sports – Greg Urbano

Night at the Dali: Architecture as Teacher

In 2013, Greg Urbano’s photography evolved, particularly with architecture and HDR techniques. His night photograph of the Dalí Museum in St. Petersburg showcases his technical growth and artistic maturity. Through careful exposure settings and HDR processing, he captures dramatic contrasts, reflecting his continuous exploration and adaptability in night photography.

Architecture in HDR 2013, Night at the Dali — 2013 was a breakout year for my photography. I started shooting more architecture and post processing in HDR. Here is a photograph taken at night of the extremely cool Dali Museum at night. Highlighting its geodesic window panes. This place was only a short walk from where I lived in downtown St Petersburg Florida along the waterfront.. Shot with a Nikon D7100.

In this 2013 photograph of St. Petersburg’s Dalí Museum, Greg Urbano captures far more than an architectural landmark—he documents a photographer in the act of discovery, using his camera to decode the visual language of light, structure, and time. The image stands as a testament to what the Chapter 1 — Beginnings theme celebrates: the transformative power of experimentation and the artistic maturity that emerges from technical curiosity.

The composition immediately announces ambition. Shot with a 14mm ultra-wide lens, the perspective tilts upward to embrace the museum’s extraordinary geodesic glass bubble, that surrealist flourish erupting from an otherwise rectilinear concrete structure. The ultra-wide focal length creates dramatic spatial distortion—the glass sphere appears to swell toward the viewer while the building’s mass recedes at impossible angles. This is deliberate visual exaggeration, the photographer using optical characteristics as expressive tools rather than merely recording what stands before him.

Urbano’s fifteen-second exposure at ƒ/11 reveals careful consideration of night photography’s particular demands. The narrow aperture ensures front-to-back sharpness across the complex geometric planes, while the extended shutter speed gathers sufficient light to render both the illuminated interior spaces and the textured concrete exterior. At ISO 250, he maintained image quality while managing the sensor’s heat buildup during long exposures—a technical balancing act that night photography ruthlessly exposes when miscalculated.

The HDR processing, which Urbano identifies as a focus of his 2013 work, serves the subject’s inherent drama without overwhelming it. High Dynamic Range imaging compresses the vast tonal range between the glowing glass panels and the deep purple-gray twilight sky into a single viewable image. Here, the technique preserves detail in both the brightest interior lights and the shadowed architectural framework—the black steel triangles that form the geodesic pattern remain visible and textured rather than silhouetted into flat darkness.

What distinguishes this image within the Beginnings chapter is its transparency about process. The HDR treatment shows characteristic traces of learning—slight luminous halos around high-contrast edges, enhanced local contrast that gives surfaces an almost tactile presence, color saturation pushed just beyond naturalism. These are not flaws but evidence of active experimentation, a photographer testing the boundaries of technique to understand where effectiveness ends and excess begins.

The photograph’s context enriches its meaning considerably. This museum stood a brief walk from the photographer’s residence, close enough for repeated visits, for returning under different conditions, for the kind of sustained engagement that transforms casual documentation into genuine study. This proximity allowed Urbano to approach the subject with evolving sophistication, each attempt building on lessons from the previous one.

The wet pavement in the foreground adds an unexpected grace note—evidence of recent rain creating reflective surfaces that double the architectural lighting, adding visual complexity without cluttering the composition. Whether intentional or opportunistic, this detail demonstrates the photographer’s developing awareness of how environmental conditions can enhance rather than merely complicate a scene.

Viewed within the arc of artistic development, this photograph captures a crucial transition point: technical capability catching up with visual ambition, the gap between conception and execution narrowing with each frame. It is the work of a photographer actively becoming, embracing complexity as the necessary path toward mastery.

The Gulf Pier: A Foundation in Light and Structure

Greg Urbano’s “Landscapes in HDR” captures the Gulf Fishing Pier at Fort de Soto Park, reflecting his artistic development in photography. Utilizing a Nikon D7100, he balances composition with HDR techniques, achieving naturalistic vibrancy without over-processing. The image embodies a pivotal moment in skill mastery, exploring the connection between environment and human creation.

Landscapes in HDR, this is an image taken at Fort de Soto park in Pinellas county Florida of the Gulf Fishing Pier. This was one of my favorite places to visit on an almost weekly basis while living in St Pete. What a beautiful view of the Gulf of Mexico! Shot with a Nikon D7100.

In the early stages of any photographer’s journey, there exists a pivotal moment when technical curiosity converges with artistic vision. Greg Urbano’s “Landscapes in HDR” from 2013 captures precisely this convergence—a photograph that speaks to the fundamentals of seeing while revealing the seeds of a maturing artistic voice.

The Gulf Fishing Pier at Fort de Soto Park presents itself as an exercise in classical composition, yet the image transcends mere documentation. Shot with a Nikon D7100 at 14mm, the photographer embraced the distortion inherent in ultra-wide-angle photography, using it not as a limitation but as a tool for emphasis. The pier’s concrete pathway stretches toward the horizon with geometric insistence, its weathered surface textured with salt stains and age—details that anchor the ethereal quality of the surrounding environment.

What distinguishes this work within the context of Chapter 1—Beginnings is the deliberate exploration of HDR processing, a technique that dominated landscape photography in the early 2010s. Rather than falling into the trap of over-processing that plagued much HDR work of this era, Urbano demonstrates restraint. The luminous gradations in the sky—from deep azure to wispy white—retain a naturalistic quality while revealing detail across an impressive tonal range. The turquoise waters of the Gulf of Mexico maintain their vibrancy without crossing into hypersaturation, suggesting an eye already sensitive to the boundaries between enhancement and artifice.

The technical choices reveal a photographer building his fundamental vocabulary. The aperture of ƒ/8.0 ensures critical sharpness from the foreground concrete to the distant structures, while the fast shutter speed of 1/400s freezes the subtle motion of the scene—likely the flutter of distant flags or the movement of the few figures visible along the pier. At ISO 100, the image maintains clarity in its textures, from the horizontal railings that create rhythmic lines to the architectural shelters that punctuate the composition’s middle ground.

What makes this photograph significant in understanding Urbano’s artistic evolution is not its perfection but its purposefulness. The nearly symmetrical composition, the careful attention to the leading lines, the consideration of how architectural elements frame the natural environment—these are the building blocks upon which more complex visual narratives are constructed. The weekly visits to this location mentioned in his notes speak to something essential in photographic development: the practice of returning, of seeing the same subject under different conditions, of learning through repetition.

The landscape itself offers something eternal—the meeting point of human construction and natural expanse. The pier extends confidently into the Gulf, a gesture of connection between land and water, between the photographer’s position and the infinite horizon. In capturing this scene, Urbano was not merely documenting a favorite location but engaging with fundamental questions about how we frame our relationship to place and space.

Within the broader context of “Beginnings,” this image exemplifies the necessary stage of mastering craft before transcending it. The imperfect attempts referenced in the chapter description are not failures but essential experiments. Here, we witness a photographer learning to see in high dynamic range, to compose with geometric precision, and to capture the luminous quality of coastal light—all foundational skills that would inform the more sophisticated work to come.

This is where journeys begin: in the clarity of intention, the discipline of practice, and the recognition that every master was once a student of light.

Coney Island Grill, 2011

Greg Urbano’s 2011 photograph of Coney Island Grill in St. Petersburg, Florida, captures the intersection of nostalgia and contemporary life. Through careful composition and lighting, Urbano highlights the diner as a communal space. The image preserves a sense of belonging while acknowledging economic pressures facing such establishments, transforming it into a documentary elegy.

In the monochromatic stillness of this 2011 photograph, Greg Urbano captures the Coney Island Grill in downtown St. Petersburg, Florida, not as a restaurant, but as a theater of American nostalgia. The image presents a classic counter-service establishment frozen in a moment that feels simultaneously contemporary and timeless, a quality that speaks to the enduring nature of these communal spaces in American culture.

The composition demonstrates Urbano’s understanding of documentary photography’s essential paradox: how to frame the ordinary in ways that reveal its extraordinary nature. Shot with a Pentax K-x at 18mm, the wide-angle perspective encompasses the full breadth of the counter scene while maintaining intimate proximity to the subjects. The technical choices—f/5.6 at 1/40s, ISO 400—suggest available light work, resulting in the soft, natural illumination that bathes the scene in an almost ethereal quality despite the grittiness of the setting.

What commands attention is the photographer’s positioning. Urbano places the viewer among the patrons, seated at the counter alongside two customers whose backs form the photograph’s foreground. This deliberate framing creates layers of engagement: we observe not just the space, but the act of inhabiting it. The diner on the left, in a dark jacket, and the chef in white with his distinctive paper hat become characters in a narrative about place and belonging.

The tonal range of the black and white rendering amplifies the scene’s nostalgic register. Notice how the overhead hood reflects light downward onto the work surface, creating a stage-like illumination for the kitchen staff. The ribbed metal backdrop, the orderly rows of plates, the utilitarian equipment—all these elements speak to efficiency and tradition. Yet Urbano avoids romanticizing the space. The air conditioning unit, the fluorescent fixtures, the practical signage directing customers to the “TAKE OUT CASHIER”—these details ground the image in working-class reality.

The drinks menu board, visible in the upper left corner, provides cultural specificity. Iced tea, milk, hot chocolate, shakes—this is comfort food territory, unpretentious and familiar. The pricing, the handwritten additions, the weathered appearance of the signage all contribute to the sense that this establishment has served its community for years, possibly decades.

Within the context of Urbano’s Top 100 Journey, this photograph functions as documentary evidence of endangered spaces. Classic diners and grills face mounting economic pressures, often displaced by chains or upscale development. By photographing the Coney Island Grill with such careful attention to atmosphere and human presence, Urbano creates both record and elegy. The image honors the social function of these establishments—as gathering places, as democratic spaces where counter seats make everyone equal, where the transaction between server and served maintains its human dimension.

The geometry of the composition reinforces this democratic spirit. The long horizontal line of the counter, repeated in the overhead hood and service shelf, creates stability and continuity. The figures, distributed across the frame, suggest community without crowding. Even in stillness, the photograph conveys the rhythm of daily life, the quiet choreography of ordering, preparing, and serving food.

This is photography that understands place as palimpsest—layers of time, use, and memory inscribed in a single frame.