Bruce Springsteen, 2006

Grudowski was covering the first New Orleans Jazz Fest after Katrina for MSN. At 8 a.m., hours before the concert was to start, he and his co-workers were just firing up the computers when they heard rock music coming from around the corner. They took a look, and there was Bruce Springsteen and his band on the main stage.

"It was amazing," Grudowski says. "Here he is at 8 a.m., giving 150 percent, just for the sound check."

The high point of that sound check, according to Grudowski, with only about 25 people listening, was My City of Ruins, a song from The Rising album that Springsteen had written about his decaying hometown of Asbury Park, N.J., but which had deep resonance with what had just happened to New Orleans. In the performance, and later in the actual concert, Springsteen passionately urged his listeners to rise up, rise up, rise up.

When he got home, Grudowski used Photoshop to merge four other original photographs into his Springsteen image, transforming into something much more than just another publicity shot.

Chrysalis Interlude, 2008

Since he was young, Grudowski has seen mysterious images in his mind that he wanted to create. This one hung suspended in his imagination for a couple years before he found the right images to make it real. A chrysalis is an insect pupa or, more broadly, a sheltered state of being.

Also since childhood, Grudowski has nurtured a desire to create landscapes so vast that a viewer can get lost in them. Many of his early artistic influences made extensive use of nonsense, otherworldliness and infinity—Lewis Carroll, Dr. Seuss, the Cocteau Twins, Terry Gilliam—and Grudowski is a constant trespasser on that same hallowed terrain. To understand Grudowski is to fall down a rabbit hole.

Espiritu de la Lejana, 2010

Even as a child, Grudowski saw non sequitur visions and images that he wanted to keep forever. He would walk through the forests around Seattle, where he grew up, and encounter a scene where the light was otherworldly and perfect. He wanted to capture it. But more than just the image, he wanted to capture the feeling that the scene evoked in him.

In Spanish, Espiritu de la Lejana means Spirit of the Distance.

When he was 19, Grudowski's great-uncle gave him a present that would, in time, determine the direction of his career: a Stereo Realist camera that had been popular a couple decades earlier.

Soon, Grudowski's muse began taking him in two different directions. He was passionately involved in creating 3D work with his great-uncle's camera, as well as photo-collage work, which was the physical cutting and pasting of various images to create a single collage. It wasn't until digital techniques arrived that he found a way to marry the two impulses into a cohesive signature approach.

Grant Morrison, 2008

Among aficionados of comic books, Grant Morrison is a superhero. He is best known for comic books such as New X-Men, Fantastic Four, Batman, All-Star Superman, The Invisibles and others.

Given the graphic, hyperbolic tone of the genre, shooting Morrison in 3D seemed a natural. Grudowski met Morrison at Comic-Con, the annual comic-book convention. In Photoshop, Grudowski added a background shot of the coast of his native Washington state.

Grudowski has a special affinity for Morrison's little-known series The Dune Patrol, which was a Dadaist take on superheroes. Collage, a favorite Dadaist technique, has now become a favorite of the Photoshop generation.

Patrick Stewart, 2006

At the Cannes Film Festival, many photographers were angling for a shot of Patrick Stewart. His film, X Men: The Last Stand, was making its Cannes debut, and he was fulfilling his promotional obligations. However, only one photographer there had a digital 3D camera: Ted Grudowski.

The camera Grudowski owns is a strange-looking contraption. It was manufactured by a now-defunct German company named RBT that was hacking existing commercial Sony cameras into stereoscopic devices. RBT would take two Cybershot P200 cameras and permanently mount them side by side to take simultaneous photographs. The angles were such that, when the photos were laid over each other, a 3D effect was created.

Since the RBT device looks like something lifted out of Star Trek: The Next Generation, it's always a handy conversation starter for Grudowski. Stewart took the bait, becoming immediately curious, asking Grudowski a series of questions about the device. Eventually, Stewart was convinced to strike a dramatic pose, and it was so.

The Edge, 2006

After Katrina, guitarist The Edge (David Howell Evans), from the Irish rock band U2, established a strong relationship with the New Orleans music community. He cofounded Music Rising, a charity whose mission was to purchase instruments for musicians who had lost them in the hurricane and flood, and later, replaced tens of thousands of instruments for parishioners and music students. They brought the music back to New Orleans.

Grudowski captured The Edge backstage at the first Jazz Fest following Katrina. While covering the concert for MSN, Grudowski struck up a conversation with him about his exotic German-manufactured 3D camera.

"It's a conversation piece," Grudowski says. "It's better than just saying, 'Oh, I love your music,' it's more like, 'This is how it works, and do you mind if I take your picture?'"

The Edge was not working at Jazz Fest, so there was a casualness to his demeanor—a softness, Grudowski calls it—that one doesn't always see in photographs of this intense artist. In Photoshop, Grudowski placed The Edge into a collage with architecture and design that is clearly regional, but also blends in imagery that captures something beyond.

Reversal of Fortune, August, 2008

In late summer 2008, America was just entering a frightening financial freefall. Kunin's eye was sharply focused on the unfolding meltdown, creating a work that plays on a term that was omnipresent in the media at the time, upside-down.

Starting with an original photograph shot in the studio, Kunin used Photoshop to build upon the image with elements from at least five other original photographs shot in and around England.

Tower of Babel, 2008

In Christian tradition, the descendants of Noah attempted to build a tower that would reach heaven. Jehovah prevented its completion by confounding their language so they could not understand one another. The allegory has come to signify visionary schemes that come to naught. Others see it as an example of human hubris. Still others see it as a story of defiance or disobedience to God.
In 1563, Pieter Bruegel the Elder painted his masterful The Tower of Babel, but it is another thing entirely to re-create that painting photographically, as Claudia Kunin has done. First, she took photos in and around England—Glastonbury, Burgley, Corse Castle and other locations throughout southwest England—and then painstakingly pieced them together via Photoshop into the architecturally impossible final result.

Flight of Persephone, 2008

In Greek mythology, Persephone was the daughter of Zeus and Demeter. Hades abducted Persephone and kept her prisoner in the Underworld. Demeter was heartbroken and convinced Hades to release her, but not before Persephone had eaten six pomegranate seeds.

It was a rule of the Fates that whoever consumed sustenance in the Underworld was doomed to spend eternity there. As a result, Persephone was doomed to retreat to Hades for a period each year, which the Greeks associated with autumn and winter. Likewise, her annual reemergence from the Underworld was a happy event said to herald the new life of spring.

In order to create this photo, Kunin shot at least eight original photographs and, using Photoshop software, merged and manipulated them into the final product.

Consciousness, 2008

While visiting a friend in Philadelphia, Kunin was struck on a deep level by an unusual plant called an allium.

"Like our consciousness, an allium goes many places, but emanates from the same central point," Kunin says. "I consider this image to be so iconic that it resonates on a deep level, much like images we encounter when stimulated by psychedelic drugs."

Starting with the original photograph shot in Philadelphia, Kunin combined it via Photoshop with a variety of other original photographs.

Impossible Possible, 2010

Much of Kunin's work, including this photograph, deals with symbols and imagery drawn from the realm of the unconscious. During the creation of this photograph, Kunin confesses that she was in a difficult time in her life and felt as if she were carrying a huge weight.

One night, Kunin had a wondrous dream involving a floating elephant. Working with various images over the ensuing weeks, her original vision transformed through the artistic process into one involving a rhinoceros. In order to create this photo, Kunin shot at least five original photographs and, using Photoshop software, merged and manipulated them into the final product.

The Gambler, 2005

Kunin bought this original daguerreotype from a dealer. She had no idea of the man's identity, but had a strong feeling about his character. She then found a pair of antique 19th-century dice and photographed them, then merged the images in Photoshop.

Kunin believes that photographs contain a bit of the spirit of the subject, especially daguerreotypes, since they're not negatives. In the making of daguerreotypes, the photographer would ask the subject to sit still, and then simply remove the lens cap. The light burned a positive exposure rather than a negative, and as a result, Kunin believes, the daguerreotype genuinely captures the spirit.

Dahlia No. 10, 2011

Working with Dahlia No. 10 gave him a sense of new buds, just starting to open up to the world, as well as a sense of smallness, since this flower is dramatically smaller in real life than the others.

Dahlia No. 5, 2011

Just looking at Dahlia No. 5 evoked emotional brushstrokes, as if it were painted by Van Gogh.

Nature Study No. 22, 2010

When Mike Pucher started taking pictures of this haworthia, he had trouble capturing the details. For some reason, it wasn’t coming to life. But when he finally tried freeing it from its pot, the whole composition suddenly became extraordinary.

In Pucher’s initial exploration of 3D, he undertook a systematic exploration of many different natural forms; hence, the numbers in the titles. But this particular shot especially touches him. The haworthia sits there so unprotected. And rather than simply exploring the details of a fabulous blossom, this photograph hits an entirely unexpected note.

Tagetes No. 2, 2011

Tagetes No. 2 commonly known as a marigold, struck him as incredibly dense, and he knew that in 3D, it would seem to defy gravity and float right into the viewer’s space.

Verbena No. 1, 2011

Verbena No. 1 struck Pucher as order emerging from a cluster of fireworks, and was terribly pleasing to his eye.

Frances Naylor With Doll, 1921

Photo #1 from the series A Case of Levitation: The Story of Frances Naylor

Frances Naylor was born September 30, 1907 to William Naylor and Eugenia (“Jennie”) Naylor of Evanston, Illinois. In the spring of 1909, shortly after she learned to walk, Frances’ legs developed a circulatory problem and were amputated.Confined to a wheelchair, Frances had no close friends and spent many hours in her room. Nine years later, at the age of 13, Frances began to have dreams that she was able to walk again. One morning after waking, Franny leapt out of bed without thinking and found herself able to levitate and move about the room. Jennie Naylor was a devout Methodist and was convinced it was a sinister manifestation. She forbade Franny from using her ability outside the house, afraid of the shame she might bring to the family.
-Christopher Schneberger

Measuring Frances, 1921

Photo #2 from the series A Case of Levitation: The Story of Frances Naylor

Franny’s father William made extensive visual documentation of his daughter using a stereographic camera that was popular at the time. A month later, Frances Naylor lost the ability to float. At 23, Frances took a job as a seamstress, but was afflicted with advancing mental illness, and two years later, became catatonic and was institutionalized. Frances passed away from pneumonia on October 15, 1935. -Christopher Schneberger

Playing a Hiding Game, 1908

Photo #2 from the series The Strange Case of Dr. Addison and the Crosswell Twins

Dr. Addison took several other photographs of Regina, including at the estate, at his studio and at the cemetery where Lydia was buried. Each time, Lydia’s image appeared in the photographic plate.
Addison tried several experiments to discern the truth, including stereo photography. If the spirit was false, Addison reasoned, it would not have visual depth. In time, Addison began to accept the presence of Lydia’s spirit and began to suspect foul play.
Addison jotted down the names of his suspects and their possible motives in a diary that ends abruptly with an entry indicating that Addison had made a discovery. Soon thereafter, Addison disappeared and was never seen again.
-Christopher Schneberger

Playing at the Typewriter, 1908

Photo #1 from the series The Strange Case of Dr. Addison and the Crosswell Twins

Dr. Charles Addison first photographed portraits of the Crosswell twins in the autumn of 1907. When Lydia Crosswell died in January 1908, Dr. Addison was summoned to the Crosswell estate to make a memorial portrait of Lydia in repose. Several months later, Regina claimed to see her departed twin Lydia and play with her. Mr. Crosswell felt that if a new portrait were made, it might help Regina accept the family as it then existed, without her sister. When developing the glass plate negative, Addison discovered the figure of Lydia Crosswell in the image. -Christopher Schneberger