(Burning) Man on fire

There’s something inimitably cool about photographing the elements fire and water. But—and no offense to ocean landscapes or waterfalls and the like—images of fire, whether a controlled blaze or a destructive inferno, for some reason seize one’s eyes like nothing else. Andy Pischalnikoff, a local photographer who caught the (shutter) bug for shooting fire half a decade ago at Burning Man, has compiled a rather impressive catalog of fire-dancing and fire-performance-art photos, which will be on display over the next two months in Old Town Folsom. Here’s what keeps his flame burning.

It’s exhausting going through all your Burning Man photographs. And I imagine it’s pretty tiring running around shooting Burning Man, like being a photojournalist. Is there an adrenaline rush?

The rush for me is like being 10 at Disneyland and there is constantly a new ride being opened. Except it is in the desert, there are real physical risks, and you never really know what is around the corner.

Another big rush is meeting the interesting people; you never know who you will meet—they could live in your hometown, and they might just happen to be a brilliant inventor or artist.

Describe your favorite Burning Man moment.

After a full day of shooting during my first year of attending, I took a break. My friend Ray and I rode our bicycles out into the cool evening. We came across an incredible giant animated flower, then went into the dark playa. There was no moon, and we saw what we thought was a quickly moving and distant light.

When we finally got closer, we discovered one woman spinning fire under the stars. We stopped, sat down and watched, the only light coming from her poi [weighted wicks on chains]. The air was so clear and dark, the sky looked like it held a spray of glittering lights. It was a profound moment that felt ancient and beautiful. Time seemed to pause and I didn’t care. The sound of the fire being buffeted by air caused a rhythmic whooshing sound, and the light made the woman look like a powerful goddess. It was quite peaceful. I still smile when I think about that moment.

How’d you get into shooting fire dancing?

My first experiences of watching fire dancing were at the 2005 Burn. I saw ladies and men spinning and breathing fire and a lot of artwork that erupted fire. It was very difficult to shoot at first, but the professional photographers I met were very much into the Burning Man concept of open knowledge. I learned some basic techniques and was taught that learning more manual settings would bring better results.

What’s the appeal?

Fire has a raw, primal power, and looking for that precise time that communicates some of the excitement and the emotion of the performer can be challenging. It takes a lot of time for people to learn to handle fire properly and with grace; I try to capture those moments when everything comes together.

What discoveries have you made about shooting fire dancing over the years? What works? What doesn’t?

I find that switching between available light and using carefully controlled flash can display two unique views of fire dancers. The traditional way is to use a tripod and take slow exposures that catch the patterns they spin. Frequently, the performer is only a blur. I like the flexibility of moving without a tripod to capture the moment. I want to catch the performer and their concentration using ambient light and fast exposures, by using fast settings on the camera and lens.

When I want to show their fire trails, I use an external flash (sometimes hand-held) with tweaked power to just bring their details in without washing them out, with a slower exposure to reveal the fire trail—usually around half a second, holding the camera as steady as possible.

Is it dangerous?

Yes. There are two fuels used. White gas, which can burn you instantly, and Ultra-Pure lamp oil, which burns slower and is used for fire breathing. I have been splashed a couple of times by fuel, usually from poi that has been heavily soaked to create fire patterns at the beginning of the show. I have also been misted by fire breathers, which is why I always wear cotton, and frequently, protection for my head.

How long have you been shooting?

Fire? This will be my fifth year photographing fire; I have been a professional photographer for over 10 years.

You photograph a unique Sacramento counterculture. What’s the draw?

When I was in the service, I worked with explosives and jumped out of planes. In my early years in Sacramento, I used to do professional makeup and married an artist who made costumes. Fire performers combine the dangerous rush of manipulating fire while dancing and looking great. What’s not to like?