Stacked Chrome Muscle: The Architecture of American Power

In a 2014 throwback photo, Greg Urbano captures a chrome muscle car engine at a car show, transforming it into a sculptural testament of American automotive culture. The monochrome composition highlights its intricate details and engineering philosophy, transcending typical automotive photography into fine art, reflecting power and craftsmanship.

Throwback Photo 2014, Stacked Chrome Muscle
Throwback photo from 2014 of a stacked, chrome muscle car engine I capture at a car show and then post processed in black and white.

In this striking image from Greg Urbano’s early photographic explorations, the viewer encounters not merely an engine, but a sculptural monument to American automotive culture. Shot at a car show in 2014, this photograph demonstrates how technical documentation can transcend its utilitarian origins to become a meditation on form, texture, and cultural identity.

The composition centers on a magnificent array of individual throttle bodies—eight polished chrome velocity stacks rising like organ pipes from the engine block below. Urbano’s decision to shoot at f/8.0 provides exceptional depth of field, rendering every fluted trumpet in sharp detail while maintaining visual coherence across the crowded mechanical landscape. The MSD Digital 6AL ignition box in the upper left corner grounds the image in specificity, reminding us this is a real machine, not an abstract study.

What elevates this work beyond conventional automotive photography is the photographer’s masterful use of monochrome. The conversion to black and white strips away distraction and reveals the essential geometry of performance engineering. Chrome becomes a study in gradation—from brilliant highlights on the velocity stack lips to the deep blacks of the engine valley below. The ribbed valve covers create rhythmic patterns that echo throughout the frame, establishing a visual cadence that draws the eye deeper into the mechanical complexity.

The lighting deserves particular attention. Working with the ambient conditions of a car show—notoriously challenging for photographers—Urbano has captured specular highlights that accentuate the three-dimensional quality of each component. The reflections dancing across polished surfaces create a sense of movement and life in what is, paradoxically, a static object. One can almost hear the anticipated roar of this engine, feel the vibration of its operation.

From a curatorial perspective, this image belongs firmly within the “Beginnings” chapter of Urbano’s journey. It reveals a photographer discovering his eye, learning to see beyond the obvious. Car shows present a particular challenge: everything is designed to be spectacular, yet the very abundance of visual stimulus can overwhelm. Here, the photographer has exercised editorial judgment, finding a perspective that isolates and celebrates a single element of automotive excess.

The stacked throttle bodies themselves represent a specific philosophy in performance engineering—individual runners for each cylinder, optimized airflow, uncompromising dedication to power over practicality. This photograph captures that ethos perfectly. There is nothing subtle about this engine, and Urbano wisely chooses not to apologize for its maximalism. Instead, he leans into the drama, using his technical choices to amplify the subject’s inherent theatricality.

The 24mm focal length on his Nikon D7100 provides just enough wide-angle perspective to encompass the scene without introducing distortion that would undermine the precision of these machined components. Shot at 1/30th of a second—relatively slow for handheld work—the image’s sharpness suggests careful technique, perhaps braced against the engine bay or shot with controlled breathing.

This photograph documents more than machinery; it captures a particular strain of American automotive culture that values power, craftsmanship, and conspicuous performance. In rendering it so beautifully, Urbano elevates the vernacular tradition of car photography into something approaching fine art—a promising beginning indeed for a photographer learning to find extraordinary subjects in ordinary places.

Fallen Tree: The Foundation of Seeing

The photograph from Hillsborough River State Park, taken by Greg Urbano in 2013 with a Nikon D7100, captures a pivotal moment in his artistic development. It reflects his early understanding of composition and intentionality, showcasing the dense subtropical landscape through HDR processing. This image symbolizes the importance of beginnings and learning in photography.

Landscape in HDR 2013, Fallen Tree
Landscapes in HDR, this is an image taken along the trail in Hillsborough River State Park. Before moving to Colorado this park offered my best opportunity to capture flowing water over river rocks. Now I am spoiled with the Big Thompson and Cache la Poudre so close by.
Shot with a Nikon D7100.

In the opening chapter of Greg Urbano’s photographic journey, this image from Hillsborough River State Park stands as a testament to the essential nature of beginnings. Shot in 2013 with a Nikon D7100, the photograph captures more than a forest scene—it documents the foundational moment when a photographer learns to truly see the landscape before him.

The composition reveals an intuitive understanding of depth and perspective. Shot at 10mm, the wide-angle lens creates an immersive quality that draws viewers directly onto the trail. The fallen log in the foreground serves as both literal and metaphorical threshold, inviting passage into the deeper woods beyond. This diagonal element cuts across the frame with authority, its weathered texture rendered in sharp detail by the f/8.0 aperture, demonstrating Urbano’s early grasp of how to balance foreground interest with background context.

The HDR processing technique employed here reflects the experimental spirit characteristic of this pre-2015 period. While HDR would later fall somewhat out of favor in fine art photography circles, its application in this image serves a clear purpose: to capture the dynamic range of a Florida forest understory, where dappled sunlight creates extreme contrasts between shadow and highlight. The palmetto fronds and oak canopy are rendered with an almost hyper-real clarity that emphasizes the dense, layered nature of this subtropical ecosystem.

What makes this photograph particularly significant within the “Beginnings” chapter is its honesty about place and limitation. Urbano’s accompanying note—that this Florida park offered his “best opportunity to capture flowing water over river rocks” before relocating to Colorado—reveals something crucial about artistic development. Great photography emerges not from waiting for perfect conditions, but from working intensively with what’s available. This trail became his classroom, this fallen log his teacher.

The technical choices demonstrate a photographer thinking through his craft. The 1/50s shutter speed suggests deliberate handholding technique, while the ISO 200 setting indicates available light conditions and a preference for image quality. These aren’t the settings of someone simply pointing and shooting; they reveal consideration and intentionality, even in these early stages.

The color palette—predominantly greens with earth-toned accents—creates a cohesive, naturalistic feel despite the HDR processing. The slight motion blur in the foliage adds an organic quality, a reminder that this is a living landscape caught in a specific moment. The trail itself winds invitingly into the frame’s depth, disappearing around a bend that promises further discovery—a fitting metaphor for the artistic journey being documented.

In the context of Urbano’s larger body of work, this image represents more than just an early attempt. It embodies the crucial truth that mastery begins with showing up, with making photographs even when the circumstances aren’t ideal, even when the technique hasn’t been perfected. The photograph’s inclusion in his top 100 collection isn’t about technical perfection but about recognizing the importance of foundation.

Every artist’s journey requires a starting point, a place where curiosity meets commitment. This fallen tree, this Florida trail, this moment of learning to see—these are the essential ingredients that would eventually lead to mountain streams in Colorado and a mature photographic vision. The imperfect attempt, it turns out, isn’t just necessary. It’s everything.

Lady in a Hat: A Study in Perspective and Presence

In 2013, Greg Urbano’s photograph “Lady in a Hat” encapsulated his experimental spirit in photography. Taken at a Veterans benefit car show in Florida, it features a classic car and a woman in a hat, illustrating the dynamic between subject and observer. This image showcases the evolution of Urbano’s artistry and HDR techniques, emphasizing compositional storytelling.

Black classic car with chrome wheels and open hood displayed at outdoor car show with woman in hat standing nearby under trees.
2013 was a breakout year for my photography. I was shooting a lot of car shows and post processing in HDR. This photograph I titled “Lady in a Hat” for obvious reasons. It was taken at a Veterans benifit car show held at the Bay Pines VA in Pinellas County Florida. Shot with a Nikon D5100.

In the early years of Greg Urbano’s photographic journey, there existed a willingness to experiment boldly with emerging digital techniques—a quality that would become foundational to his artistic identity. “Lady in a Hat,” captured in 2013 at a Veterans benefit car show in Bay Pines, Florida, exemplifies this experimental spirit while revealing an intuitive understanding of compositional storytelling that would define his later work.

The photograph presents a gleaming black classic car, its hood raised to display immaculate chrome and engineering, positioned at a dramatic low angle that transforms the vehicle into something monumental. But what elevates this image beyond typical automotive photography is the deliberate inclusion of a figure in the background—a woman in a distinctive hat, observing the scene. This compositional choice transforms what could have been a straightforward documentation of mechanical beauty into a meditation on observation itself, on the relationship between spectator and spectacle.

Urbano shot this image with a Nikon D5100 at 10mm, an ultra-wide focal length that creates pronounced perspective distortion. The technical settings—f/10 at 1/320s, ISO 160—suggest bright midday conditions, yet the photographer’s use of HDR processing pushes the tonal range far beyond what the camera captured in a single exposure. This was 2013, when HDR photography was experiencing widespread popularity in automotive and architectural work, and Urbano was actively exploring its possibilities. The processing intensifies the reflections on the car’s black paint, brings out texture in the engine bay, and maintains detail in both the bright Florida sky and the shadowed undercarriage.

What makes this image significant within the context of Chapter 1—Beginnings is not its technical perfection, but rather what it reveals about the photographer’s developing eye. The ultra-wide perspective could easily overwhelm the frame, yet Urbano maintains balance through careful positioning. The car dominates the foreground, grounded by fallen leaves and grass texture, while the human element remains present but unobtrusive in the middle distance. This suggests an emerging awareness of layered storytelling, of creating images that reward sustained viewing.

The title itself demonstrates artistic intentionality. “Lady in a Hat” redirects our attention from the obvious subject—the pristine classic car—to the peripheral human presence, suggesting that the photographer understood even then that compelling photographs often exist in the tension between primary and secondary subjects, between what commands attention and what quietly observes.

This photograph also documents a specific moment in Urbano’s technical education. HDR processing, with its characteristic emphasis on local contrast and detail recovery, taught photographers of this era to see scenes in terms of tonal relationships rather than single exposures. This training in visualizing extended dynamic range would later inform his approach to lighting and exposure, even when shooting single frames.

Within the broader narrative of the Top 100 Journey project, “Lady in a Hat” represents the necessary phase of bold experimentation that precedes refinement. It captures a photographer unafraid to push processing techniques to their limits, to shoot from unconventional angles, and to include elements that complicate rather than simplify the frame. These imperfect attempts, as Urbano himself acknowledges, formed the foundation for everything that followed—a reminder that artistic growth requires the courage to create before one fully understands how.

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.

Marie Selby Roots 2012
Black and white image taken at the Marie Selby Botanical Gardens in Sarasota Florida of a large Banyan tree roots. Taken with a Nikon D5100.

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.

Into the Green Cathedral: Highlands Hammock State Park, 2011

Greg Urbano’s 2011 photograph from the Cypress Swamp Trail reflects the intersection of technical skill and artistic vision in photography. Using a Pentax K-x, he captures a weathered boardwalk amidst Florida’s lush swamp, illustrating the relationship between nature and human presence. The image balances light and texture, inviting viewers into a transformative experience.

Highlands Hammock State
Photograph taken in Highlands Hammock State Park of the Cypress Swamp Trail, 2011. Shot with the Pentax K-x.

In the early stages of any photographer’s journey, there exists a pivotal moment when technical capability intersects with artistic vision—when the craft begins to serve something deeper than mere documentation. Greg Urbano’s 2011 photograph from the Cypress Swamp Trail at Highlands Hammock State Park captures precisely this threshold, presenting a meditation on entrance, passage, and the liminal spaces where human intervention meets primordial nature.

The composition anchors itself on a weathered wooden boardwalk that curves through the left third of the frame, its moss-stained surface bearing witness to countless footsteps and Florida’s relentless humidity. Shot at 18mm on a Pentax K-x with the kit lens, Urbano demonstrates an understanding that wide-angle photography isn’t about capturing everything—it’s about creating context and relationship. The boardwalk serves as both literal path and visual guide, drawing the eye from the immediate foreground deep into the swamp’s verdant interior.

What distinguishes this image from typical nature photography is its masterful handling of light in a notoriously challenging environment. Shooting at f/4.0 with a 1/40s shutter speed and ISO 400, Urbano navigated the technical constraints of a modestly equipped camera to capture the dappled luminosity filtering through the canopy. The exposure balances the bright patches of sky visible through the trees with the darker water below, creating a tonal range that feels both accurate and atmospheric. The slightly elevated ISO introduces a subtle grain that, rather than detracting from the image, contributes to its organic texture.

The swamp water itself becomes a secondary canvas, reflecting the surrounding cypress trunks and creating visual echoes that blur the boundary between substance and reflection. Fallen branches break the surface tension, their pale, skeletal forms contrasting with the vibrant greens of new growth. This juxtaposition of decay and vitality speaks to the swamp’s essential nature as a place of transformation, where death continuously feeds life.

The color palette reveals a sophisticated eye for harmony—countless variations of green layer upon one another, from the luminous chartreuse of sunlit leaves to the deep olive shadows beneath the boardwalk. The aged wood introduces warmer earth tones, grounding the composition and providing respite from the overwhelming verdancy. These are the subtle decisions that separate intentional photography from happy accidents.

Within the context of a photographer’s formative work, this image represents more than technical competence. It demonstrates an emerging awareness of how to use man-made structures not as intrusions upon nature, but as framers of experience—the boardwalk doesn’t dominate the swamp; it offers a way to witness it. The slight curve of the path suggests journey and discovery, inviting viewers to imagine themselves walking deeper into this green cathedral.

Shot with entry-level equipment during a period when digital photography was becoming democratized, this photograph affirms that vision matters more than gear. The Pentax K-x and kit lens proved sufficient tools for capturing not just a place, but an atmosphere—the particular quality of light, air, and time that defines Florida’s ancient swamplands. It stands as evidence of a photographer learning to see, to compose, and to recognize moments worth preserving.

Alioto’s on Fisherman’s Wharf: A Study in Nocturnal Americana

Greg Urbano’s 2010 black and white photograph of Alioto’s restaurant in San Francisco is a significant early work, capturing the intersection of technical skill and artistic vision. It explores familiar scenes through a developing photographic perspective, revealing how ordinary moments can become extraordinary. The image emphasizes light, structure, and context, marking a pivotal discovery in Urbano’s artistic journey.

Aliotos on Fishermans Wharf 2010
An early photograph from 2010. Taken on vacation in San Francisco a black and white image of the iconic Aliotos restaurant at night on Fishermans Wharf. Shot with my Samsung NX100.

Alioto’s on Fisherman’s Wharf: A Study in Nocturnal Americana

Greg Urbano’s 2010 photograph of Alioto’s restaurant on Fisherman’s Wharf stands as a pivotal work from Chapter One of his Top 100 Journey—a collection dedicated to early beginnings and the formative images that taught him how to see. This photograph represents more than just a vacation snapshot; it captures the moment when technical skill and artistic vision began to converge.

This image works on multiple levels simultaneously. On the surface, it presents a straightforward night photograph of a famous San Francisco landmark. But closer examination reveals a developing understanding of tonal relationships and compositional balance. The black and white treatment isn’t merely aesthetic—it’s revelatory. By stripping away color, the photographer forces viewers to see the architecture of light itself. The neon signs become sculptural elements, the illuminated storefronts transform into glowing boxes of human activity, and the darkness above presses down with an almost palpable weight.

What makes this photograph particularly significant as an early work is its democratic vision. He doesn’t attempt to elevate Alioto’s to fine art by isolating it or abstracting it beyond recognition. Instead, he presents the entire commercial ecosystem: the neighboring Sabella LaTorre sign, the smaller vendor stalls with their utilitarian lighting, the people moving through the frame as gentle blurs. This is tourism and commerce as theater, captured without cynicism or sentimentality—a mature perspective for someone still discovering their photographic voice.

The technical execution demonstrates the learning curve inherent in Chapter One. Shot with a Samsung NX100—not a professional camera by any measure—this image proves that vision was developing faster than equipment acquisition. The exposure is carefully controlled, holding detail in both the bright signage and the darker architectural elements. The vantage point shows deliberate thought: low enough to emphasize the vertical drama of the building, yet far enough back to include context. That giant illuminated fish and the number “8” become almost sculptural forms against the night sky.

As an early capture, this photograph reveals an artist already grasping something fundamental: great photographs often lie not in exotic locations but in how we see the familiar. Fisherman’s Wharf has been photographed millions of times, yet this image feels both specific and universal. It could only be this place, yet it speaks to every similar waterfront tourist district in America. This understanding—that the ordinary can become extraordinary through careful observation—marks a crucial lesson in any photographer’s development.

The inclusion of this work in the Top 100 Journey reflects its role as a foundational piece. It’s not about perfection; it’s about the spark of discovery. The photograph represents a moment when the camera revealed something the artist was only beginning to articulate—an ability to see light as structure, to recognize the poetry in commercial spaces, to trust in straightforward documentation over manipulation.

The photograph has aged beautifully, which speaks to the instincts already present in these early days. In an era of digital saturation and Instagram filters, there’s something refreshing about this honest image. It doesn’t try too hard. It simply observes, with emerging intelligence and care.

When displayed as part of Chapter One: Beginnings, this image invites viewers to consider the photographer’s journey. It rewards examination not just for its formal qualities—the geometry, the light, the tonal range—but for what it represents: a lesson learned, a moment of clarity, a step toward understanding how to translate vision into image. This is where the journey truly began.