Roughly 120 days from now I’m teaching a workshop in Peru.
My planning has already begun. You might find that a little surprising, but it’s very true. And while this might seem like a lot of prep time, let me assure you, it isn’t. Not by a long shot.
And when I say planning, I don’t mean dragging out my suitcase or beginning to prepare lecture notes. Those will come, in time. I mean, one of the basic questions is which camera will I take – my Leica or my Hasselblad?
At the moment, I’m beginning to prepare the logistics of my photographs. My personal introspection of what I’d like to make while in Cusco for the first time – what I’d like to make while there, not what I’ll be teaching. In fact, this note is somewhat of a primer on what we will be considering while there.
You see, in many ways, I’m in a similar position to the students who will be attending the Peru in Book Form photographic workshop. I’ve never been to Peru. I’ve never witnessed Easter in Peru. I’ve never seen Cusco. I’ve never been to this hotel. I’ve never flown through Lima. So, it is difficult for me to know exactly what will happen, which is what is so exciting.
(For those curious why the heck I’m teaching a workshop in a city I’ve never visited, I’m working with the producer of the PhotoExperience workshops who specializes in photography in Cusco. Between the two of us, we’ve got it covered.)
I think one of the most difficult things about doing an event like this is fighting the urge to preconceive what will happen or what I will see. More seasoned photographers might stand over my shoulder: “been there, done that“ trying to share the easiest solution with me, but again, my mind is telling me otherwise. I have grand visions, but there is always a catch.
In my editorial and newspaper days, assignments NEVER appeared like the concepts I’d preconceived. On the one hand this was frustrating. My visions were always incredible, and often times the visuals in front of me were not. I’d find myself cursing the assignment editor or saying to myself, “Gotta make chicken salad out of chicken sh%$.”
But on the other hand, arriving at unexpected things was fantastic, kept me on my toes, challenged me, and in the end made me a far better photographer. Heading into unknown territory with my camera became second nature, which has helped me tremendously when it comes to shooting weddings or even portraits. I don’t get rattled.
So today I find myself dreaming about Peru and also trying to figure out how I’m going to “design” my photographs – better yet, create my story.
I don’t know what I’m going to see in Peru. I could go online and look up Easter and try to find something specific, and part of me wants to do that, but I’m fighting the urge. Perhaps I don’t really want to know. I want to see with fresh eyes, knowing that what I see has never happened before. Each year brings something new, something I learned from photographing Sicilian Easter over a four-year period. I would return to the same towns, shoot the same events and see different things each time.
I’m thinking about other aspects of my images: how do I want them to look? In what format? Color or black and white? What size prints will I make? Will the prints be digital or traditional? Am I shooting for more of an editorial look? Gallery look? Or a book?
The specific goal of this workshop is to photograph Easter in Peru with the idea of producing a book from the material. What size book? What format? Will this be a commercial book? A personal book? A limited edition? Softcover? Hardcover?
What if I shoot two different ways and make two different books? Can I even do that? Will it water down the images if I try to do two things at once? Should I research previously published books on Peru? Of Easter?
Okay, by now it is evident I just finished my morning coffee, and that perhaps I’m a little fixated on this issue. Guilty as charged.
But this is my reality. You see my “design” on my images changes. I’ve got more than one look, and I’m trying to predict the future.
The easiest thing to do is shoot my Leica and Tri-x. I’ll love it. I know because I’ve done it so many times, in so many places. But I could also use the Hasselblad, which I love for portraits. Maybe I could shoot the action with the Leica and the slower stuff with the Blad?
It would be so great to board the plane with two small bodies, two lenses and a small bag of film. Light, easy, simple. But my mind tells me I can do more, make more, but this might just be another trick.
But in the end I can’t allow the concept of a book, or what a gallery might like, overpower the basics of light, timing and composition. I need to put myself in the best position to make the best photographs that are most reflective of me as a photographer.
It’s so easy to get lost in the “design”.
So, today my planning and designing continues. Soon I will work on lecture notes, slideshows, etc. I will curse myself for losing at least half of my Spanish ability. But I will also relish the idea of what will happen 120 days from now. I will dream about the moments and the happiness we will experience.
Like a fire burning inside, keeping us creatively warm, until that moment when the starter gun says,” Go!”
www.santafeworkshops.com
www.photoexperience.net
www.milnorpictures.net
Austin Texas, 1990.
I was a second-year photojournalism student at The University of Texas.
Shopping for books, I found myself not in the textbook section of the store, but instead in the photography book section. All the usual suspects were there. The nature books, the celebrity books, travel books filled with stock, but then suddenly something caught my eye.
Shoving aside the enormous volumes, I found myself holding a book titled “Afghanistan 1980-1990,” by a photographer named Ed Grazda. Softbound, cover font in green, black and white lead photo, with the words “Der Alltag,” across the bottom.
Thumbing through the first few pages my heart began to race and I found my mind thousands of miles away, in the Hindu Kush and alongside the person who made the photos. I was hooked.
Afghanistan had been a subject of my fascination since the Soviet invasion, but I had never really found, or read, or discovered anything that took me to this foreign place. Until I found this book.
I purchased the book, took it to my tiny apartment and spent far too many hours pouring over the images. The book design was simple, black and white images accompanied by English text on one page, and the same text in German on the facing page. The book was exotic. The images, the foreign language, and most importantly, the idea that this man, who I knew by then was American, had gone to Afghanistan and lived amongst the war, the tragedy and the tribes to make these images. The pictures were not of war, which is what had really become associated with Afghanistan, but rather the images were about life. Daily life, tea houses, street scenes, and secret trips into the countryside with the mujahideen. Wide angle to normal lenses, black borders.
In some ways I found the book difficult to look at because for me it was evidence of what was possible, and of what I thought MY path would be. The book was a reminder, a haunting reminder that there were photographers out there doing it, devoting their lives to make pictures that were important to them.
Ed signing books in his New York apartment.
New York City, 2009
I need to find Ed Grazda.
Much time had passed since my days in Austin. I still own Grazda’s first book, and knew now there was a follow up book, “Afghanistan Diary 1992-2000,” which chronicled the following ten-year time frame in the life of Afghanistan. And there was also a book regarding the Masjid in New York. Doing what we do today when we try to find something or someone, I Googled Ed, and low and behold there he was. An email address. I wrote to Ed, he wrote back, and a few short days later I was sitting in his apartment with a tentative list of questions and slightly sweaty hands. Yes, I was nervous, but perhaps not for the reason you think. Earlier in the day I had been on a panel at the Javits Center, in front of a crowd of people, and my heart never went a single beat above resting, but sitting with Ed, looking around his apartment, which was filled with small stories of his life, I came to a realization. Interviewing someone like Ed isn’t easy. It isn’t easy because Ed has done a lot of important work, and no matter how many questions I asked, I was probably only going to scratch the surface.
A rug portrait portraying Ahmad Shah Massoud.
I found myself quietly thinking, “Maybe I’m not really qualified to do this?” but the door was closed. I was inside and there was no turning back. I was able to spend about an hour with Ed, and the result is the following interview. He was also nice enough to allow me to make a few images, which I think help to set the scene.
When I read this interview I realize I have many, many more questions for Ed, and perhaps one day I will get a chance to ask them. Since the interview, I ran into a student of Ed’s who said to me, “Ed just does his thing.” I know what this person was talking about, and I have a tremendous amount of respect for this.
A street camera from Kandahar.
Enjoy.
DRM: You’ve done a wide range of work over the years, but considering current events, I’d really like to focus on your work from Afghanistan. I know you have been traveling to Afghanistan for 25 years, but what was it that first prompted you to venture there? And, how difficult was it to even get in the country?
EG: I was travelling in Asia in early 1980. In a guest house in New Delhi I met some travelers who had been in Kabul when the Soviets invaded (this was only a few months after the invasion), also some young Afghan refugees – the first of millions. So I went to Pakistan – Peshawar. One could go up to the Afghan border and go to the tribal areas easily and relativelY safely. A great place to photograph. Still is. Only now you would not survive.
In 1982 I made my first trip with the mujahideen, they would take you across the border, most times in worked, but a few times I was caught.
Taliban at Jadi Maiwand, Kabul, Afghanistan 1997. Ed Grazda
“The Afghans are everywhere in Peshawar…they drive rickshaws, buses and trucks. They open restaurants. They also fight the Russians.” from Afghanistan 1980-1989
DRM: A few weeks ago I saw a quick video in regards to Kabul in the late 1970’s and people were wearing western clothing. It was surprising to see this, and reminded me of just how many transitions this country has been through in recent years. When you first arrived, what was happening in country?
ED: My first trips in the early 1980’s were with the mujahideen, but we were only in the country side and small villages, where life has been pretty much the same for generations.. I didn’t get to Kabul until 1992. In the 1970’s Kabul was the Paris of the East.
Mujahideen at Wageeza, Afghanistan 1983. Ed Grazda
“Almost any Afghan you meet on the street or in the bazaar will offer to take you to their “front” inside Afghanistan if you are a photographer or journalist. Or look like one.” From Afghanistan 1980-1990
DRM: Looking at your work from “Afghanistan 1980-1989” and also your second book “Afghanistan Diary 1992-2000,” it’s clear you are not really focusing on working as a war photographer, but more as a documentary photographer, covering daily life and quiet moments more than front line action. Was this a conscious decision?
EG: yes, I was interested in the culture, landscape etc. not the war per se. I leave war photography to the professionals, with health insurance.
DRM: I’ve never been in a war zone, and when I see imagery from these places I find myself wondering not only about the images, but also about the logistics of how the images were made. What was your mode of operation, both getting in and getting out? How long would you spend in Afghanistan per trip?
EG: in the 1980’s I would go to Peshawar, Pakistan and hook up with a mujahideen group and make arrangement with them to take me into Afghanistan – illegally – sneaking across the border. They would escort me in and out of the country and I would travel with them. A trip was usually 3 weeks to a month.
DRM: The bulk of your Afghan work was done before the days of digital, so what were the logistics of your actual photography? What equipment did you use and how much planning did it require to figure this out?
International press corps at Tora Bora, Afghanistan, early Dec. 2001. Ed Grazda
EG: I always use the same cameras leica M4 & M6, 400ASA film. Travel light, as you had to carry everything your self. If you trusted you gear to a pack animal you might be separated from it for days.
DRM: I can’t imagine being more isolated while working than being in Afghanistan during the war. Your first book also details a few close calls you experienced. Did you ever have illness or injury to deal with and how much a part of daily life was living in fear?
EG: When traveling with the mujahideen you didn’t really have time to worry or be scared, just keeping up with them took all your energy. There were the usual stomach problems and some minor infections, nothing major. I was lucky. If you got appendicitis or were wounded you were in trouble. I was once helped out by Medicines San Frontier people in Afghanistan. Great people.
“Now the problems started. Nobody spoke English. Nobody could read this document that the army sent concerning my case. And nobody wanted to go to the man in charge. Things only got worse. I was sick, my air ticket home was a few days from expiring, my exposed film from the trip was somewhere in Peshawar with some Afghans. My visa was about to expire. That night I slept in the barracks. The next morning I was still covered with huge bites and blisters. Still no one who spoke English: this was hell. The outhouse was two bricks-no hole. In the afternoon I started to yell and demanded to call the American consulate. They brought out the shackles and chains. I challenged them to put them on me. They did.” from Afghanistan 1980-1990
DRM: What was your goal with these images and did this goal change the more time you spent in Afghanistan?
EG: Basically to document the place during those unstable times. In the early 1980’s I really did not have a goal for the pictures. for me it was an interesting place to be and photograph.
I made some good friends who let me into their world and I got some good pictures. Peshawar was a very interesting place then, and safe and cheap. After a few trips my aim was to do a book.
DRM: When you put your first group of images together from Afghanistan what was the reaction to the work, and did the reaction and demand change the longer the war went on?
EG: The only time there was a “demand” (slight) was right after 9/11. Financially it was always a loss, but it was just something I wanted to do. if there had been”interest” from the general
public, perhaps america would not be in the place we are in now in Afghanistan.
DRM: How much of this work ended up in the editorial world? What other outlets did you find for these images?
EG: Many of my photos from the 1980’s were published in The Christian Science Monitor. A few in Time, Newsweek, Soldier of Fortune.etc. But no major assignments.
Jalaladinne Haqanni (white turban) heads to a bank in Peshawar with suitcase. 1986. Ed Grazda
DRM: When was the last time you were in Afghanistan and what impression where you left with as you departed?
EG: I was last there in 2004 for the first presidential election. At the time I thought things might work out. The country was relatively peaceful and safe. Most afghans were very pro American and the election process had seemed
to work.
DRM: Another photographer told me you have one of the few images ever made of Mullah Omar. True? And if so, what is the back story on how that image was made?
EG: I wrote a story for Vanity Fair about the Mullah Omar photo (Feb 2004.) it is on line at VF.com. (Here is the link: Vanity Fair)
DRM: Your second book, “Afghanistan Diary 1992-2000” covers a time frame when the Taliban were first coming to power. We all know the Taliban views on photography, so how were you able to work?
EG: I went to Kabul in 1997, under Taliban rule, at the time photography was frowned upon, but not yet banned. One could work, but not easily. When I went back in 2000 it was almost impossible to photograph anything.
DRM: Looking at your books it is clear to me you developed a genuine friendship with the people you photographed. Have you been able to keep in touch with any of these people, and were they ever able to see the books?
EG: I always sent photos back to people I knew and later the books. I am still in touch with some of the people from the 1980’s. Afghanistan Diary was for sale in Kabul – and may still be. Afghanistan Diary 1992-2000 was for sale from about 2002 at the book shop in the Kabul Intercon hotel by the man who was written about in the dreadful “Bookseller of Kabul” Also, many friends from the 1980’s kept photo albums that still have my photos in them.
DRM: What is your feeling about what is happening in Afghanistan now? Do you see any hope?
EG: Basically the US government has done nothing to help the Afghan people, everything the Bush
goons did was wrong and self serving. They should be handed over to the Afghan people to be tried as war criminals. I have little hope for a good outcome.
DRM: It seems impossible to do your style of imagery in modern Afghanistan, just due to it being nearly impossible to get out and live with the population. What do you think of the photography coming out of this region today?
EG: I see a lot of dramatic war stuff from “imbeds” but after a while wars seen close up all seem to look the same. And don’t tell me much about the place. I don’t like the idea of working in a situation where I need a government I.D. Etc.
“No one really expected Jalalabad to fall, and the hands of the foreign powers – USA, USSR, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan – were becoming more noticeable. There was not going to be a simple ending. As I spoke to people in Peshawar I realized that it was going to be a long time before things would be settled.” from Afghanistan 1980-1989
DRM: Do you have any plans to return to Afghanistan?
EG: Not at the present time.
If anyone who reads this post has comments or thoughts, please feel free to share them here or email me at milnorpictures at gmail.com
Also, if you are interested in Ed’s books you can find them here.
I take back everything I said about multimedia. I love it.
Just a little sneak peak at the ultra serious work going on here at the Smogranch.
I don’t put a lot of my “work” on this site.
I like to keep it that way because there is really nothing I dislike more than when I see a blog that is little more than a sales tool for the photographer.
I know why people do that. It can be a successful way of creating new business, etc, but I think, for the most part, doing this comes off as fake, silly, phoney, etc.
When I find a blog like that I never return to it, regardless if I like the work of the photographer. I don’t have time for sales tool style presentations. I want reality.
When every shoot is wonderful and every picture is perfect and the world is in harmony, frankly, I find it a turnoff because it just ain’t real. And, everyone knows this.
But from time to time I post something from my “work.” I’m not posting these images because they are the best images ever, and the client was thrilled and a rainbow formed over us during the viewing.
No, not even close.
I’m posting these for two reasons. One, I shot them with my Leica, which I find amusing. You see, I’ve used these cameras for a long while, and I thought I knew how to best utilize them. When people ask me about Leica M cameras I tell them what I think they are good for, and portraiture was never in that conversation.
But I realize after all this time I was missing something. They are great for portraits, but perhaps not in the way we all think of when we think of the classic portrait. It’s easy to get wrapped up, or concerned with gear, and the most important thing about images is how the photographers sees, but your equipment does have a say in the matter.
You see, for me, this series of images is very, very telling of a certain time, moment, age, etc, and in fact tell me everything I need to know about these girls without having to see their face. If I want the classic face portrait, I’ll use the Hasselblad. But for the “perimeter” images, the Leica is really nice.
And for me, these are “perimeter” images.
The little one can’t stand still. Ever. She fights it, just like we all did and some of us still do. When I’m around the little one, I try not to make her stop and freeze because I know her DNA is not accustomed to that. The older one is more patient. The older one says, “Mr. Milnor.”
Leaps and bounds is is the difference in ages, and I think just by seeing these three images, shot within seconds of one another, you see everything you need to know about THIS particular moment in their lives.
When you shoot these images you will have clients who say, “I can’t see their face,” which I expect because that is what we have all been taught is what a portrait MUST look like. Okay, sure. I have those too. Those are easy. Expected. Those typically come with the clunk, clunk, clunk of the Blad.
But I realize now, I’m basically doing the same exact thing with these kids that I do when I’m in the field working on a documentary project, the exact application I have used the Leica for nearly my entire “career.” And telling a story is really what it is about. It’s funny how all this time passes, all these kids through my lens, and yet it doesn’t really dawn on me until I’m sitting here editing this shoot.
These perimeter images are like whispers. Sometimes they are audible, and other times not. Subtle, quiet, telling.
“Just Me”
just me
I thought
I was never enough
the world told me
what I should be
I couldn’t do it
I was what I was
and still am
I envied others
who knew more
were prettier
and smarter
had lots of friends
and boyfriends
were homecoming queens
rode on parade floats
won awards for athletics
and stuff they made
and entered at the fair
I wanted to be
popular and get
chosen first
it took a life time
to see
how fortunate I was
just to be me
So a few years ago I went back to Sicily for the fourth time. I went during Easter, which was the time I had visited on my earlier trips, so I was returning to look for a specific thing, a specific time, etc. The work I’d made on the earlier trips is some of my best, not solely based on what the pictures look like, but also on the experience of making the images. Sicily is a wonderful place. Unique to my experience. And the folks I and spent time with are wonderful as well. All around, the kind of experience that we photogs dream about.
So I went back, but instead of doing what I had done in the past, shoot 35mm, Leica with Tmax 3200, I instead added another style to my holster. 645, Tri-x, black and white. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have done this.
These are a few of the images I made with this new approach, and some of them I like, but in the end it just watered down the look, and in my mind watered down the work I had done before. Again, it’s not that I don’t like these images, but they aren’t as good as my other work, and they are also not in the same vein as my other work. You can’t use a 645 camera in the same way you use a Leica. It just doesnt’ work that way. It’s like trying to use a Mamiya 7 or 6 in the same way you use a Leica. It doesn’t work. I love the Mamiya, but it’s slower, and larger, and bulkier, and you have fewer frames per roll, and all of that effects the outcome. One isn’t better or worse, just different.
The Leica is like a gray t-shirt. Nobody notices. You wear a gray t-shirt and you are just part of the background. You carry a Pentax 645 and people see you coming a mile away. I think what happened was I got enamored by what I was seeing around me in the photo world. I look at a lot of work. I go to a lot of galleries. Much of what I was seeing was medium format, low grain, portraiture. I bought into the charade.
I also shot color 645, which was a complete waste of time. I haven’t even SCANNED those images, and probably never will. At least I can’t remember scanning them??? It’s not to say the trip was a waste, they never are. Even if my gear had been stolen and I was unable to make a single frame, trips are always worth it. I can always make something from it.
But this trip taught me something. This trip taught me to forget what I know and do what comes natural. It always seems as if finance is a key issue when you first get started in photography. You are restricted to minimal equipment, so you just make do. You learn to make what you have work in all situations. Sometimes your rig works great, and other times not so great, but you truly learn your limits. It’s like wanting a road bike, a mountain bike, a beach cruiser and a time trial bike, but you only have enough money for one, so you buy the hybrid and make it work. In my Sicily situation, from now on, when I venture back, and I do plan on going back, I’ll know for sure what my rig will be. Leica, TMZ.
And when I write this I feel a sense of relief because I know how great it is to work this way. Small and quiet. Regardless of what is hot in the gallery world, or editorial world, or photography world in general, I’ll do what I do. And speaking of that, you can’t find anything LESS popular at the moment than grainy, 35mm. HUGE color portrait series are the “new documentary” so what I’m doing might not have a home at all in today’s photo world, but I’m totally fine with that. Things change. Slowly perhaps, but all it takes is for a few, and I mean very few, key players to suddenly shift their view, and the entire industry will change. How do I know? I’ve been watching it happen for 15 years.
I don’t even own the 645 gear anymore, but I wish I still did. I wouldn’t use it for my doc work, but for stock it works great. Oh well, live and learn. So nowadays when I think of new projects, I often ask myself, “Okay, how are you going to do this?” There is always the urge to do too much, to use too many looks, to get too complicated. All those voices in your head, and all those features in the magazines, which all seem to look the same during their given time, pull on your inner strings. Today’s feature of choice is the color portrait paired with the urban landscape void of people. Check out most doc outlets and you’ll see this style over and over. Frankly, it’s an easy style, allowing the photographer to craft a body of work in a very short time. Perfect for today’s’ “right now” market. But that’s not what I do. I spend more time, get less, and make pictures that many people might consider odd. Isn’t this a strange world?
So when I look at these images, I’m left with little passion. It’s odd to feel that way about your own images, but it happens, and it has taught me another valuable lesson. Sometimes you DON’T get what your looking for. I’m okay with that. A lot of photographers are not. It’s why newspaper photographers get fired for setting up images. It’s why photojournalists get in trouble for manipulating their images. It’s why magazines get in trouble for manipulating their cover pics to add impact or enhance corporate policy. Sometimes you just don’t get what you want, and this reality is really hard for some folks to handle. Photography as a profession can be brutal, and your typically judged by your most recent work. Win a Pulitzer on Monday and shoot pet of the week on Tuesday, and a lot of photographers will be talking about how lame your dog shots were. That’s just the way it is. But for me, when I don’t get something, I don’t feel down, I actually feel more driven. In fact, the drive can completely take over. Fixate much? And until the day I return to the scene of the crime, my mind is thinking about what I missed, about what I could have had. And this is what I feel when I see these Sicily images.
Next year I’ll be in Peru during this time, perhaps with a few people who are reading this right now, so it won’t be until 2011 before I return to Sicily. So now I wait and wonder.
Oh, if you want to see my original work, look here www.milnorpictures.net The first story.
Our fireplace shortly after the last quake. Viva California!
I think I just had a thought. Wait, yep, I did. Okay, here it is.
We hear so much these days about the demise of journalism, about how newspapers are dead, ratings and subscriptions are down and hundreds, if not thousands of people are out of work. This truly sucks.
Now there is great journalism being done out there, in places, and there are some tremendous pieces being written, filmed and photographed, but there is also a lot of schlock being thrown at us, and if I had to say, I would guess the schlock far outweighs the great journalism.
Case in point, TV news running the “bear in a tree” story, which they have done in Southern California at least three times in the past few months. I know, I saw it. It’s pathetic, lazy and there is no excuse, with all that is going on, to do this. It proves that they, the media, think we are pretty stupid, and need to be “entertained” more than informed. Also, newspapers covering celebrity events for no real reason other than there are celebrities involved and they want to sell papers, news, whatever. Same with magazines who run celebs on the cover, regardless of the inside content or photo magazines putting supermodels on the cover, regardless of inside content. In my mind, you deserve to lose subscriptions.
But, something even more poignant just peaked my interest, something I think reaches the DNA level of what is wrong with our “media” or journalism world.
Wait for it…wait for it…
The retouched journalist headshot. Am I the only one who finds this REALLY odd.
So let me get this straight. You’re a journalist, and you write the news. You cover issues with “truth and an impartial view,” but your headshot is fake? Now this might seem like nothing to most people, which is precisely why I think it is a big deal.
The journalist is selling an untruthful representation of themselves, but only writing the truth? How does that work? I know, I know, it might seem really inconsequential, but what it does in my mind is get the ball rolling in the wrong direction.
And when I say “retouched” folks, I’m not talking about 1985, blemish removal, I’m talking total cerebral reconstruction. If you don’t know what happens in the world of retouching today, just so you know, we left Kansas a long, long time ago. Gone are the days of blasting away zits, and in are the complete recreation of human beings. Think I’m exaggerating, stop by a retoucher and ask to see the before and after images. You will be amazed, or horrified. In many of the celeb images we see today, there is nothing untouched from head to toe. Heads are reshaped, necks, backs, legs, etc, even hair and feet. Nothing is real. I’ve even seen this disease creeping into the kid photography realm, which in some ways is even more alarming. Let’s get our kids thinking about a completely unrealistic vision of themselves, right from the beginning! That sounds really healthy.
As you can tell, I detest even the idea of retouching. It’s fake. And for me, it stands for precisely the opposite of what photography, or journalism for that matter, is all about. For me the math is simple, camera + moment = reality.
And now I see the same being done with the headshots of those we hold to be “watchdogs of the people.” Well I don’t buy it.
I think the problem with journalism can be traced to this exact thing. Doubt. Suspicion. Skepticism. Misrepresentation.
How can you misrepresent your own image, and ask to be believed?
Are you a celebrity, like the folks you are writing about? Are you part of the news? Or, are you strictly a vessel of delivery?
Me, I think many journalists have become part of the story, and that is where the foundation shows signs of a major crack. In my mind, you can’t do that. If you do, gone is your credibility.
I shouldn’t hear you. I shouldn’t see you, especially a fake impression of you, but what I should see and feel is the only the power of your work. And I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that what you say is the truth, or as close to the truth as you could possibly get.
I don’t feel that right now. I see those glamor shot mugs and think, “What’s next?”
This really strikes a nerve with me. To me, journalism is sacred, not casual, nor should it be cowed to the level of entertainment shows, and frankly I think that is what is happening. Me, I’m going to boycott any report, story or project that is accompanied by any perfect skin, perfect teeth, 30 pounds slimmer than they actual are, anchor, reporter, photographer, etc. I’ll probably be left without my news, but there are worse things in life.
I’ll leave you with one last experience. Last night I found a documentary on one of the few channels I get. It was really good. I only watched a few minutes, but what I did see was well done. Then suddenly we went to commercial. And there she was. A well known celebrity, only it really wasn’t her, it was some bastardized, digitally retouched, motion version of her, and I mean REALLY INSANELY OVERDONE OVERTOUCHED GHASTLY HORRIFYING VERSION OF THIS POOR WOMAN WHO UNDOUBTEDLY SIGNED OFF ON THIS HORROR SHOW. I was mesmerized as this creature stared back at me with lifeless eyes, or at least what was left of those eyes, and skin that was completely devoid of, well, skin. It was the orangeish, plastic looking stuff that is left when retouchers take all the human parts of the person away. I felt like my soul had been discarded in a roadside bin.
Is this really what we want people? Really? I can’t imagine this is where we all thought the ship was headed. I’m so glad we developed these tools, they are so perfect for overpowering nature and providing us with completely unrealistic material.
Me, I’m going to write a letter. Yep, a letter, specifically NOT an email. And I’m going to send it to the company that made this horror flick. They need to hear it, from at least one person. Might as well be me.
Onward and upward.
Recently I was alerted to the fact there existed a new, online publication regarding contemporary photography in New Mexico. Checking the list of founders, I was pleasantly surprised to see a familiar name or two, so I sent off an email of congratulations.
I began to think about my photography, about New Mexico, and wondered what I had from the region. This place, the “Land of Enchantment,” is one of my favorite places in the world. If you have never been, you must go. That is all I can say.
In fact, I recently did a radio interview and was asked about my favorite location I had traveled to, and without hesitation I replied, “New Mexico.” When I’m in New Mexico I feel different. I feel more connected, to both the land, and those around me. There are tensions there, both man made and the natural kind, but these tensions are what gives the region its flavor.
This image is active, so it will link you directly to the site. This feature was on the Flash Flood Blog, so don’t forget to check out the main site.
The story relates to my move there, and a trusty pickup that is no longer with us.
Okay kids,
If you have made a book and are thinking of making another, or just thought about making a book, or hinted at making a book, or threatened to make a book, etc, now might be the time.
As you know, I make a lot of books, a lot of Blurb books to be exact, and I just got this notice in regards to a new discount.
It is the giving season, and what better way to impress your friends, family and complete strangers than barraging them with a book of your work, or even better, a book about YOU!
I’m working on a self-portrait book, 5000 pages, and I’m going to send them out to everyone in my area code. Okay, maybe not, but I do have three more large books in the works. But for those, you’ll have to wait. Luckily, you don’t have to wait for the Blurb discount, it’s here NOW.
Now let’s get started.
Bruce Davidson looks at work, Palm Springs Photo Festival
Get ready to give confession. Get ready to spill your guts. Get ready for intense pleasure and possibly intense internal pain. Get ready for feeling like your on an island. Get ready to be accepted.
Get ready for your portfolio review.
A lot has changed since I began in photography. Although I had made money with photography for several years, I got my first real job in 1993. My very first job in photography I got without having to show a portfolio at all. In fact, the editor who hired me never even looked up from her desk. “Hi, I’m Dan,” I said. “Your hired.” This first job was hellish. Shoot, process, edit, print(darkroom), shoot the halftone, do the post up, etc. I did everything. And for those of you who don’t know what halftone or post up is, look it up under “dinosaur” in the dictionary.
After getting out of school, I sent portfolios out for eight months straight with not a single reply. This was long before email, e-portfolios, websites, etc, these damn things were handmade, 20 slides in a clear sleeve, copy slides that I shot myself. Cover letters typed on typewriter, complete with whiteout spots and no logo or brand of any kind.
At the time, with these first portfolios, I was hunting for a newspaper job, and I had been in papers and watched the brutal reception given to portfolios that arrived while I was sitting there doing my best to look useful. I’d seen editors see a great portfolio case, throw the work in the trash and keep the case for their own. I’d seen editors take portfolios that were coming on disc and throw them in the trash, “Probably a virus,” they’d say. I’d seen editors looking at stacks of portfolios, find a familiar name or face and say, “Okay, got it, we’re done here,” and toss the rest of the stack in the trash without having looked at any of them.
I knew what I was up against.
But at the time, I didn’t have a style, or a vision or really any idea what I was doing, so it’s no wonder it took a year to find a job. And I’m not really sure why I got my first internship. It might have been Spanish ability. It might have been someone making a call. It might have been desperation on the part of the editor. It might not have had anything to do with my photographs.
Over the years I’ve had to show a portfolio many, many times, and I’m sure I’ll continue to have to do it.
But much has changed since the days of the slide page. My portfolio comes in many shapes and forms, from my cell phone, to two visual websites, to my blog and even a range of books and print boxes from 4×6 to 17×22. I’ve got it all.
The portfolios have changed but so has the assortment of folks looking at them. It used to be you showed your portfolio far more in person, or you sent a physical book for clients to look at. This still happens, although not as much, as the web has taken off as the “first look” of choice.
A few years ago, clients, in many cases would use the web to screen portfolios, but would then call in the books they wanted to see after looking at websites. Nowadays, even this is dropping off, with many clients booking shoots directly from the web. Again, we are all, for some reason, in incredible hurries, all the time, for no particular reason. And, the web is cheaper. No need to ship clunky, heavy books across the country or world.
There are still other things that have changed in my portfolio reviews. When I first started showing my book I wouldn’t say I was prepared to defend or explain myself. I remember sitting down at a major newspaper in Texas, with the old, old, old school photo-editor, who was mean as a snake, and the MOMENT I opened my mouth he fumed, “I don’t care about your war stories,” his lip trembling with rage, little balls of spit flying off his lips and landing on my synthetic shirt. He shut me down. That was it. Done. Over. Squashed. I realize the other editors let this guy destroy me, probably because they were bored or wanted to see what would happen.
I made trips to New York to see magazines, publishers, editors, etc, and even went as far as France to show my work, carrying books, prints, etc, and honing my skills at getting people’s attention and also standing up for myself.
Then came the turning point.
I was at a newspaper, showing my work, attempting to land a full time staff job. While I was waiting to see the photo-editor, I waited in the lab area where all the other photographers were processing film, making prints, etc. One of the photographers said, “Hey, let me see your portfolio.” I placed my book on the table in the center of room and was treated to a near implosion of the entire photo-department. The first person to look at the book said, “Dude, you gotta take all your black and white and put it in a separate sleeve, then put all your color in another.” Another photographer standing by said, “No, don’t do that, you gotta blend it all together.” Before long there were other photographers involved and what followed was a near-blows, shouting match involving about a half a dozen photographers. It got ugly. I never said a word. Photographers took shots at me, my work, each other, their work, etc. If the publisher had been there, they would have taken a cheap shot at him or her too.
But in the middle of this mayhem I had a very clear realization.
“These people don’t have any idea what they are talking about.”
It was so clear to me. It wasn’t that they didn’t have experience, or didn’t have years under their belt looking at images, but what they couldn’t really do was tell me anything concrete about my images.
Why? There is no right and wrong. Regardless of what anyone tries to tell you, there is no right and wrong, only what you prove. You want to mix your color and black and white? Do it. You want to edit your portfolio to five images. Do it. You want to show product shots to a news editor, then do it. If you can justify your decision and you place a book of stunning images down, anything can happen.
There are plenty of sheep in this business, and like I said before, in some ways it is far easier to find work these days if you are a sheep and produce the simple, safe garbage. But me, I’d rather attempt to be a lion, and being a lion starts with your portfolio.
Make it what you want. Show what you want, and when someone confronts you about an image or a body of work, stand up for yourself, defend the images.
And when I say defend, I don’t mean be defensive. This is really common when looking at someone’s work, when you make an observation or suggestion and someone will respond, “I meant it that way,” or won’t let you get a word in edge wise. After all, you are showing your book, so you have to expect feedback, both negative and positive. Sit, listen, think, let the person speak and formulate your response. Take notes if that helps.
But at the end of the day, it is your work, your style, your vision.
If you ever attend a large portfolio review, you will realize immediately you have to be your own decision maker. If you show your book to ten different editors you will get ten different reactions, and if you chase each one, you’ll go crazy. I had one “important” editor look at my book, turned to the second image, which depicted something she personally didn’t like and she made a face and began acting like a child. It was unprofessional, sad, but frankly not that surprising. This had happened before. So, should I have taken that image out? No frickin way. It was a good image, regardless of the reaction.
Shoot it, edit it, print it, live with it and most importantly, enjoy it. .
Good editors appreciate someone willing to fight for their work.
