Tomatos

This photographic composition showcases three tomatoes on a textured wooden surface against a dark background, illustrating the themes of light and form in still life art. Using controlled lighting to create a dramatic chiaroscuro effect, the photographer emphasizes the tomatoes’ beauty, merging classical traditions with contemporary techniques.

Tabletop still life of three ripe tomatoes with water droplets on a wooden surface against a dark background.
A tabletop still life of three tomatoes arranged on a wooden surface and lit against a dark background.

In this deceptively simple composition, the photographer demonstrates how the most humble subjects—three tomatoes from a supermarket produce section—can become vehicles for exploring light, form, and the enduring traditions of still life photography. The work sits comfortably within the classical end of Chapter 5’s spectrum, channeling centuries of artistic precedent while employing decidedly contemporary tools and techniques.

The arrangement recalls Dutch Golden Age vanitas paintings, where ordinary kitchen staples were elevated to subjects of profound contemplation. Here, three ripe tomatoes rest upon a weathered wooden surface, their placement casual yet deliberate. The varying positions of their stems—pointing in different directions like botanical compasses—introduce subtle asymmetry that prevents the composition from becoming static. Water droplets cling to the glossy red skin, suggesting recent washing and adding points of light that animate the surface.

His lighting strategy proves crucial to the image’s success. Working with a single Godox V1s flash modified by a softbox and grid, he achieves remarkable control over illumination. The grid attachment narrows the light spread, creating focused illumination that emphasizes the tomatoes while allowing the background to fall into deep, theatrical darkness. This chiaroscuro effect—the dramatic interplay of light and shadow—lends gravitas to subjects that might otherwise seem merely documentary.

The wooden surface provides essential contextual grounding. Its rough texture and visible grain contrast beautifully with the smooth, taut skin of the tomatoes, creating a dialogue between refined organic form and rustic materiality. The warm tones of the aged wood complement the rich reds of the fruit, establishing a harmonious yet varied color palette that feels both earthy and sophisticated.

His post-processing approach through Skylum Luminar 4, utilizing a color LUT (Look-Up Table), demonstrates an efficient workflow that enhances rather than overwhelms the captured image. The color grading deepens the reds toward burgundy in the shadows while maintaining natural highlights, creating dimensionality that draws the eye around each form. This restrained digital intervention respects the photographic integrity of the scene while amplifying its visual impact.

Within the broader trajectory of his still life work, this image represents a return to fundamentals—a meditation on how controlled lighting and thoughtful composition can transform the everyday into the examined. Where other works in this chapter might push toward experimental territories, this photograph anchors itself in proven traditions, demonstrating that innovation need not always mean departure from established visual language.

The Sony A7ii captures these elements with clarity and subtle tonal gradation, rendering the tomatoes with sufficient detail to appreciate their imperfect spherical forms, the slight variations in color saturation, and the delicate green stems that signal recent harvest. These details matter; they prevent the image from becoming abstract or overly stylized, maintaining its connection to the tangible world.

Ultimately, this work succeeds through its quiet confidence. The photographer understands that compelling still life photography requires neither exotic subjects nor complex staging—only patient observation, technical competence, and an appreciation for how light reveals the inherent beauty in forms we too often overlook. These grocery store tomatoes, frozen in this particular moment of light and shadow, become worthy of sustained attention.

Marie Selby Roots, 2012

In Greg Urbano’s 2012 black and white photograph of banyan tree roots at the Marie Selby Botanical Gardens, the ordinary is elevated to extraordinary. Using a Nikon D5100, he emphasizes natural architecture and texture, inviting viewers to appreciate the monumental presence of the roots and their intricate details, symbolizing persistence and growth.

Black‑and‑white close‑up photograph of large banyan tree roots spreading across the ground at Marie Selby Botanical Gardens, taken with a Nikon D5100.
A 2012 black‑and‑white photograph of banyan tree roots at Marie Selby Botanical Gardens in Sarasota, Florida.

In the Marie Selby Botanical Gardens of Sarasota, Florida, Greg Urbano discovered a subject that speaks to photography’s essential pursuit: finding extraordinary vision in the ordinary world. His 2012 image of a banyan tree’s root system transforms what many visitors might walk past into a study of natural architecture, texture, and the quiet monumentality of growth.

Shot on a Nikon D5100 at 18mm, the photograph embraces the wide-angle perspective to emphasize the sculptural sprawl of roots as they emerge from and return to the earth. The technical choices here are deliberate—an aperture of ƒ/4.5 provides sufficient depth of field to keep the intricate root structures sharp from foreground to middle ground, while the 1/80s shutter speed at ISO 100 captures clean detail in what appears to be soft, overcast light. The conversion to black and white strips away the distraction of color, allowing the image to become purely about form, line, and the interplay of light across weathered surfaces.

What makes this photograph compelling is its invitation to reconsider scale and presence. Banyan trees are known for their dramatic aerial root systems, which drop from branches to establish new anchor points in the soil. These roots, over time, become massive supporting structures that can make a single tree look like an entire forest. Urbano positions his lens low and close, giving these roots the monumentality they deserve. They undulate across the frame like organic highways, their surfaces marked by the patient work of decades—moss-covered in places, smooth and silvered in others, each groove and crack a record of growth and adaptation.

The composition draws the eye through natural pathways. The roots create flowing curves that lead deeper into the frame, while pockets of accumulated leaves and debris provide textural contrast and visual rest stops. There’s an almost sculptural quality to the way light models the cylindrical forms, revealing their three-dimensionality through subtle gradations of gray. The photograph operates on multiple levels: as documentation of a specific botanical specimen, as an abstract study of natural form, and as a meditation on time, persistence, and the hidden infrastructure that supports visible life.

Within the context of the Top 100 Journey project, this image represents the photographer’s developing eye for architectural elements in nature. The banyan’s root system is, after all, a kind of natural architecture—functional, structural, and beautiful in its purposeful design. The black and white treatment connects this work to photography’s documentary traditions while simultaneously elevating the subject into the realm of fine art.

There’s something humbling about standing before such a root system, and Urbano’s photograph captures that sense of being in the presence of something both ancient and ongoing. These roots speak to persistence, to the slow but inexorable way living things claim their space in the world. The photographer’s choice to work at ground level, to get close and look carefully, reveals a fundamental photographic truth: the world rewards sustained attention. What appears as mere roots at first glance becomes, through the lens, a landscape unto itself—complex, textured, and worthy of extended contemplation.