Sir Francis Drake may not have been near San Francisco — some claim he was as far north as Depoe Bay, Oregon — but the explorer’s words about a coast full of “the most vile, thicke and stinking fogges” have attached themselves to many descriptions of summers in The City. For my part, I love the fog. And a good thing that is, since I live in the Inner Sunset, at the edge of the fog belt. When the temperatures rise above 80 for more than a couple of days, I long for the wall of fog to return. And as a photographer I always head out into interesting fog, hoping to catch it both at its densest and most mysterious and at those liminal moments when it lifts, leaves, and returns, when it is half there and half not.
I’m currently preparing a show that will go up in September at Canessa Gallery, in North Beach. Fog will be front and center for that exhibit, whose title might just be ” ‘Stinking Fogges’: Scenes from the Edge of the Fog Belt.” I expect to include both color and black-and-white work. Here is a first taste of some candidates for inclusion.