Mendota Rowing Club | March 3, 2025

I have lived in Madison for over four years and in that time it has greatly shaped some of my personal interests. Its extensive bike paths allowed me to bike to work every day, eventually leading me to take up road cycling as one of my favorite hobbies. Furthermore, my interest in city planning grew the longer I lived here. Despite Madison being a relatively small-to-moderate-sized city, it is the largest city I have ever lived in or even spent an extensive amount of time in. As a result, it introduced me to things I hadn't experienced before, like a decent transit system. Madison's bus network is functional but far from perfect, yet it has made me appreciate all the benefits that a great transit system can bring to a city.

That said, my biggest frustration with Madison is, ironically, one of its most famous features: the lakes. While they should be an incredible public resource, access is more limited than you'd expect. Much of the shoreline is privately owned, and the designated swimming areas are small and often closed due to algae blooms caused by farm runoff. Renting kayaks and paddleboards is a great option, but it still feels like the lakes are something you experience from the edges rather than being fully immersed in them—unless you're lucky enough to own waterfront property or a boat (or know someone who does).

Other Midwestern cities, like Chicago and Milwaukee, handle their waterfronts differently. Chicago's entire lakefront is publicly owned, with miles of beaches and trails open to everyone. Milwaukee, though smaller, offers well-maintained public access along Lake Michigan. It's a stark contrast to Madison and makes me wonder why the city developed the way it did.

From a photography perspective, Madison's lakes present a unique challenge. Many of the best skyline views are from the water, making them difficult to capture without a boat (or even with a boat too). But winter changes everything. By early January, the lakes freeze over, turning into vast open landscapes. Previously inaccessible areas become walkable, offering rare angles of the city. Ice fishers set up their shanties, cross-country skiers carve tracks across the snow, and skaters glide across the surface. It's a unique experience and something that should be experienced while you can.

Madison, overall, is full of contradictions. Like its lakes, it can be both accessible and exclusive (see my blog related to redevelopment in Madison). Despite this, I find Madison a great place to live year-round—you just need to embrace the changes and seek out the things that make the city unique.

Capturing the Image

I ventured out onto frozen Lake Mendota, looking to capture a unique angle of the Mendota Rowing Club building, which I had previously photographed in black and white. For sunset and dusk photography, this lake is usually the better option since the shoreline faces almost directly northeast, allowing the setting sun to cast light on the buildings rather than silhouetting them.

For this shot, I aimed for a clear sky with soft pastel tones and minimal shadows—no dramatic clouds, just a clean, crisp backdrop. Surprisingly, there haven't been many days like this season. Most days are overcast, and the few clear days are often cold as shit. And on this day, it was indeed cold as shit—about 5 degrees Fahrenheit. In reality, that temperature isn't too bad if you dress appropriately, but when you're lugging around a camera on a tripod and standing still for a while, you get cold fast. So, I've gotten in the habit of moving around when possible. The wind didn't make things any easier that night, cutting through my winter gear.

I got to my spot during the middle of the evening golden hour and snapped this shot (cropped from the 6x9 negative to 6x17):

In terms of composition, I really enjoy this shot. I love how the snow drapes over the roof, with the kayaks and canoes on the left overlooking the frozen lake—just waiting to be used in the summer. The stacked dock tiles stored to the side add to the feeling of everything being tucked away for winter, patiently awaiting their prime season. And again, this is an image you could almost never capture unless you were able to walk out onto the frozen lake.

However, in terms of color there is a lot to be desired for me. I’ve found that I generally dislike how Kodak Gold 200 renders deep blue skies, and I’m also not a fan of the harsh shadow of the boathouse on the snowy hillside. Additionally, the color contrast between the oranges and blues doesn’t quite work for me. The next image I took is closer to what I was hoping for:

This frame is much softer—notice that the shadow from the building is still there but far less noticeable. Additionally, the sky is no longer that deep blue. Since the skyline just barely blocked the sun as it was just above the horizon, the buildings are no longer draped in golden light. This is much closer to what I was hoping for, though I still feel it’s a bit overexposed.

This image is even closer to what I was hoping for—extremely soft shadows and a sky filled with purples. However, I still feel it’s slightly overexposed and would have been better at about one stop less. Additionally, I think I took this shot about 5–10 minutes too early. Finally, I’m unsure how Kodak Gold 200 handles exposures longer than one second. I suspect that’s contributing to the sky appearing more white rather than the rich purples and pinks I had envisioned. Unfortunately, this was the last frame on the roll, so I didn’t get another shot.

So, after developing this film, I wasn’t satisfied with the final results and felt compelled to return to the spot about a week later with some Kodak Portra 400. The sky conditions were similar to the previous week, but it was warmer and less windy, making the experience much more bearable. This time, I knew I needed to wait about 15 minutes after sunset to get that perfect sky I was looking for:

Just look at those pastel purple and blue tones in the sky—super soft, almost non-existent shadows—yet it still captures the same essence of stillness I originally wanted. Was it worth using four frames of 120 film to capture this? Yes, I think so.

Below is one last image I took about ten minutes later. It’s kinda cool how the lights add some ambiance to the scene, though I still prefer the version above. I think it’s partly because of the deep blue sky. Also, that now means I used five frames of 120 film to get the image I wanted—still worth it.