Mostly True

Let's Be Professional About This

There’s a big difference between a professional plying their trade and an amateur. In this image I see evidence of two people (in particular) reacting to an unexpected attack, an atrocity, in a professional manner.

The first is the officer on the left, who unlike your average celluloid action star, has her finger in the proper position and not on the trigger of her weapon. The second, is photographer John Tlumacki of the Boston Globe who captured THE moment in a straightforward manner without any photo-gizmo trickery.

The image is a testament to experience and proper training (on both sides of the lens). It also puts the lie to the idea that social media, inexperienced witnesses and camera phones are a suitable replacement for a PFJ.

There’s a video of this moment as well. It was either made by an amateur or the absolute worst camera operator on the planet. The video fails on most levels. but most strikingly when it pans away from the scene so perfectly captured by Tlumacki and instead tilts skyward at smoke and broken windows. The video shows us little of what’s happening at street level (although one can catch a glimpse of Tlumacki helping to move some barricades). In doing so, the camera operator robbed the viewer, history and criminal investigators of a clear picture of what happened seconds after the blast.

(From a photojournalist’s perspective, it also robbed us of another example of how video of an iconic moment usually fails to have the same impact on the viewer as the still image, but that’s hardly important at this point.)

Some have criticized Sports Illustrated’s treatment of the image. Saying the pop-out figures gives it a comic book feel, but that rings hollow with me. In fact, I think it’s quite effective. Heroes (comic book or otherwise) are normal people who are thrust into extraordinary situations and react in heroic ways. In other words, cops aren’t any more super than anyone else, until they are.

That said, I salute the editors of S.I. for publishing this amazing image as well as they did. Perhaps it was because their tight deadline prevented them from talking themselves out of it. I don’t know. I don't care. They got it done, and that’s what counts.

With that, I'd like to make a quick comment about the first episode of a new reality show called “The Moment”, hosted by Superbowl winning quarterback Kurt Warner. Unlike the moment captured by Tlumacki, this show is scripted, exploitative (of both their subjects and audience), unbelievable, predictable and total removed from reality. Which explains why on TV it’s called a reality show. Its gimmick, err, premise, is that it gives people a second chance to live their dream.

In the first episode, Warner gives working mom Tracie Marcum a second chance at being a Sports Illustrated photographer. We're never told when she got her first chance, or why a gainfully employed person would throw away a perfectly good job.

Marcum seems nice enough. She’s obviously deeply loved by her family, a decent bunch, and is ready and willing to work, but a sports photographer she is not. The show puts her through a two week “boot camp” where photographer Lou Jones, also a decent sort and veteran of fourteen Olympic games, attempts to turn her into a sports photographer. The prize is a job at Sports Illustrated.

The show puts Marcum through a bunch of silly exercises designed to turn her into a sports shooting machine. The cruelest of which is when they send her to a skeet range to photograph clay pigeons exploding as they’re shot. I say cruel, because SPOILER ALERT Marcum’s mother committed suicide with a gun, so the sound of gun shots freaks the poor woman out. Yeah, no manipulation here. The producers of the show didn’t put Marcum through this for some canned drama, the “exploding clay pigeon test” is one every sports photographer has to pass.

Okay, so it’s all in good fun. We all know nothing sells soap like a working mom’s tears.

As a viewer, I expected Marcum would earn herself a day rate or two for her trouble. Maybe shoot a golf tournament or something for the magazine. That’s when things got weird.

At the end of the show, Marcum heads to New York to meet with the director of photography and a highly acclaimed Sports Illustrated photographer who will look at her work and decide whether she’s earned herself a “position” at the magazine or not.

As Keanu would say, “Whoa.” Position? I thought we were talking “job”, not position.

To make matters stranger not to mention ironic, since the episode was shot, both the DOP, and the staff photographer (who judged her work) are no longer with the magazine (along with several other GREAT photographers).

Sure enough, SPOILER ALERT, Marcum wins a position at the magazine. On one hand, I have to say, “good for you girl," but on the other I’m wearing my “I can’t believe what I just saw” face (and yes, I usually wear that face on my hand).

As this episode was being shot, the magazine’s hierarchy, the same people that knew they were going to fire a bunch of people whose talents the magazine was built on, thought it was a good idea to send the message to America that anyone, given a two week training course, could be a Sports Illustrated photographer.

Is that what you want your subscribers to think? There’s nothing special here, nothing to see, move along. That given a chance (first or second) by Kurt Warner you too could be a Sports Illustrated photographer.

George Plimpton notwithstanding, can you think of a professional sports franchise that would attempt to sell season tickets with this premise?

Whether it’s our sports or the people shooting them, paying customers want the best. They don’t want to see their overweight neighbor playing for the Miami Heat. They want to see LeBron. Just like they don’t want to sit through a three hour slideshow of their neighbor’s eco-holiday, unless they happen to live next door to Sebastiao Salgado.

I know I’ve said this in a slightly roundabout way, but professionalism is important. Not only in important matters, like national security, police officers and other first responders, but also when it comes to the our press.

As a photographer, a journalist, and a consumer of news, I’m tired of the mediocre spirit that has infected our publications today.

We don’t need another overly clever youngster, running around in tiny jeans, thinking the story is about them while attempting to make self-relevant snaps with their iPhone. Can’t you just picture it? A blood stained sidewalk, maybe a tattered piece of red, white and blue bunting, a cross processing filter...

What we need is some old school PFJ’s that know how to capture a moment in a way that is relevant and insightful, but also true. Yeah, I said it. Images can be true. Regardless of what your goateed, sports coat with faux leather patches on the elbows wearing, college professor told you.

What we want (and by "we" I'm probably only talking about me), what editors should be trying to deliver (and what we got for a brief moment this week) is some photojournalism which harkens back to the Boston Globe of the eighties. This is what we need and anyone who thinks otherwise deserves to have Stan Grossfeld's non-ironic Chuck Taylors shoved right up their arse.

The Dramatic Moment

Magnum is one of the most prestigious photo agencies that has ever (or will ever) exist. It was founded to give it’s members the ability to pursue any story or subject matter they wished, profit from their work, and retain ownership of the images they made. Magnum was founded at the end of World War Two by photographers who had covered the war. Their main clients were editorial publications (magazines and newspapers). So naturally that they thought of themselves as journalists.

One of Magnum’s founding members, photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson, had a philosophy he used when working. His goal was to make a perfectly composed image, from precisely the right spot at the exact instant when all the elements he was observing came together in poetic harmony. When this happened, he called it “The Decisive Moment”.

"To me, photography is the simultaneous recognition, in a fraction of a second, of the significance of an event as well as of a precise organization of forms which give that event its proper expression." - Henri Cartier-Bresson

He was a master of recognizing the decisive moment and managed to capture a great deal more (of them) than his share. To him, the decisive moment was present in all situations. The only question was whether the photographer would find and capture it before it disappeared.

Which is what photography is, a quest to discover the under-seen, the fleeting moments of life (which most of humanity misses), in the most perfect way possible. This was (and still is) a radical idea. Painters tried to do this (to some degree), but despite all their hard work and genius level talent they didn’t have the right tool. The invention of photography gave them that tool. Artists who wanted to continue painting stopped trying to capture reality and started trying to capture their impression of reality. Artist who desired to capture the reality of life’s splendor, picked up a camera (although Bresson’s Decisive Moment would not come into play until cameras became small enough to be easily carried).

There are three fundamental problems with photographers that try to set up pictures and pass them off as an honest attempt to capture reality.

One, it shows a great deal of arrogance. To think that you can come up with a better idea than what the world is offering you (in exchange for a little patience) is foolhardy. Life is more creative than you. Spend some time looking around and it will give you images that you could never imagine yourself.

Two, You’re cheating yourself. Winning awards, being widely published, having your work hang in museums is all fine and dandy, but at some point, perhaps on your deathbed, you’ll realize you’re a fraud and the body of work you spent your life creating is a lie. (Then again maybe not, one shouldn’t overestimate a person’s ability to deceive themselves.)

Three, the tool to replace photography as the ideal medium to record the human condition hasn’t been invented yet. When that tool is invented, feel free to take photography into it’s impressionistic phase. Until than, you’re just splashing paint on canvas in the hope of convincing someone you’re brilliant.

Photography is all about you, there’s no getting away from that fact. But, if you want to be great, you damn well better make pictures that don’t need you. Images that don’t need an award or a gold star placed on them by a photo editor or museum curator to make them good. That’s a tough trick to pull off. Would your pictures still be great if none of your friends or supporters know they were made by you?

Let’s call it the Vivian Maier test. If you and all your friends are dead are your pictures still good?

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying you should make “objective” pictures. We have drones flying over our heads to do that. What I’m asking is to know a little bit about you through your photographs. There should be a hint of you visible in your images. Now, just because your work is “subjective” doesn’t mean you can abandon honesty. I want your honest take on the world, and you can’t get that by hiring or conning people into modeling for you. Posing pictures to support your preconceived ideas, isn’t being honest, it’s just a way to reinforce your prejudices. Once you start down that path, I don’t know how you avoid taking up residence in your own private echo chamber.

Listen, HCB didn’t have motor drives, auto focus lenses or high speed sensors like you. It really shouldn’t be that hard to follow in his footsteps. There are photographers out there who have been following The Troubles or chasing hot light in half made worlds for decades and they seem to do well without cheating themselves, their viewers or the people in their pictures.

Is that too much to ask?

Update - I just became aware of this film clip that almost captures the moment when Cartier-Bresson made the image of the Gestapo informer being exposed. Somewhat humbling, no?

Just Make It Happen

Paolo Pellegrin is one of the most successful photographers working today. He works with the most high-profile magazines, he publishes books, is a member of the most prestigious photo agency (Magnum), contributes to interesting projects and regularly wins major contests. So natually, he’s easy enough to hate.

Still, until his work was called into question last week by BagNews Notes, it’s fair to say he was also widely respected.

Predictably, Pellegrin is catching most of this heat from people he doesn’t know, while receiving most of his support from people he does. Which makes me wonder, not knowing him, but having admired his work for a long time and owning at least one of his books (maybe more), what kind of advice I would have given him last Friday when the story first broke.

Here’s the original piece by BagNews Notes.

So if Paolo was a friend of mine, I would have first been upset that BagNews Notes didn’t contact him and get his side of the story before they published their piece. I know BagNews doesn’t consider themselves a journalistic operation, but in a story that has this much potential to destroy a person’s career, you should give them a call.

You do it for three reasons. One, to give the accused a chance to defend themselves (even the condemned get to say their last words, or at least given time for a smoke). Two, you want to appear to be fair. And three, you want your target to have a statement on record that isn’t a carefully crafted response written by a PR firm designed to pick apart your accusation. Basically, you want to help them hang themselves with a hasty and panic driven response. It’s journalism 101 folks, maybe that’s why BagNews screwed it up.

After I was done being upset with BagNews, I’d be upset with Paolo. I would have advised him to immediately contact BagNews and admit he had made a mistake with his captions. I would have told him to take all the blame upon himself. I would have encouraged him to make a full apology to the subject in his photo, the people of Rochester, the judges who rewarded him for this work, his fellow photojournalists and to disqualify himself from the competitions.

That said, Pellegrin is not a friend of mine, and it appears no one else offered him this kind of advice (or if it was offered he chose not to follow it).

Here’s Pellegrin’s response.

Instead, Paolo Pellegrin attacked... everybody. He took no responsibility for his own actions. He constructs straw-men to whack down while at the same time blaming everyone but himself.

My way, end of controversy. Paolo’s way, fuel on the fire.

Here’s BagNews’ response to Pellegrin’s response.

Caption mistakes are one thing. Anyone can make that kind of mistake. Personally, I’m not a big fan of captions. I want viewers to see the photograph and then go to the caption to enhance and add to their understanding of the image. This controversy is no longer about poor, misleading or “lifted” captions. This is now about a self-proclaimed “documentary” photographer who manipulates people and uses them as props to illustrate a story narrative he’s made up in his head.

I thought these issues had been worked out by now. You don’t use people for props. You don’t manipulate them into doing things they aren’t doing and you don’t ask them to pose for you and then pretend it’s a situation that you’ve happened upon. This is the 21st century and as journalists we’ve had these conversations countless times. Walker Evans shouldn’t have moved the furniture. Gene Smith shouldn’t have sandwiched negatives. The guy who’s name I don’t remember shouldn’t have removed the Coke can.

Were we not clear on this?

I thought we’d moved on to questions that are harder to answer, like how much can we tweak our color palette?

Photographs aren’t a clear representation of reality. A skilled photographer willing to shamelessly manipulate a person can make them appear to be whatever they want. That’s why it’s important to have an ethical code of standards. Not just for the industry as a whole, but as an individual also.

My code goes something like this;

I try to represent the person I’m photographing in the most truthful way possible. They should recognize themselves in the images I make of them. This doesn’t always result in the best image, but it’s an attempt to be truthful and “true” to the subject.

My second responsibility is to myself. I want to make images that I’m proud to hang on a wall or see published in a magazine. If the image doesn’t meet my standards I could careless if the publisher thinks it’s a great image or not.

The final responsibility is to the editor that hired me. I don’t want them to regret the fact they did. I want them to go into the layout meeting with an image that’s better than they or their bosses could have hoped for. That way nobody losses their job and I might even get hired again. However, I’m not going to construct an image that misrepresents my subject even if it means the image doesn’t meet my standards or the publishers.

Over the years I’ve taken a lot of heat and lost a few jobs (and probably a contest or two) because of this personal set of rules. To paraphrase Lite, Put your seatbelt on, boy. I don't ride with anybody 'less they wear their seatbelt. It's one of my rules.

To be honest, I do bend this rule when it comes to politicians (and sometimes people of power). I figure a politician on the campaign trail is spending hundreds of thousands of dollars each day to manipulate me and my photos, so they’re fair game. It’s a more honest approach than the mock “behind the scenes” images so popular today. Where the magazines throws out any pretense of objectivity in exchange for not losing this prized “access” by publishing a photo that might be displeasing to the politician or his staff.

I guess this is what really upsets me about Paolo Pelligrin’s work and the caviler attitude towards objections and criticism people have made about it. He claims to be broaching subject matter that the “elites” wouldn’t dare touch when in reality he’s manipulating those without power to promote his own elitist agenda.

In a world where the press has abandoned its traditional watchdog role, and is only concerned with giving itself awards and cuddling up to the powerful he’s not an anomaly, he’s their ideal creation.

Magnum, the most prestigious photo agency of all time, doesn’t know what it is. Is it a place for artists, journalists or some type of combination of the two? Magnum’s most successful photographers are probably in the artist camp and are masters of the “found” image. While one of their most successful documentary photographers (not Paolo) is widely known to regularly set-up pictures. This is a problem.

Photo editors, who encourage photographers to “make it happen” (oh how many times I’ve heard those wretched words) and/or disappear for month long stretches to prepare their contest entries are also a major problem.

Contests... well, if World Press or POY doesn't demand to see the entire take... I’m talking Pellegrin’s entire hard drive from Rochester and scrutinize how he works from start to finish (are there fifty frames with different poses and lighting schemes of the “portrait” in the parking garage), their credibility is over. These are photojournalist contests after all.

The bottom line, is this photojournalism thing is broken. If you’ve ever seen a horde of Dutch photographers (home of World Press Photo) work a woman’s team of gold medal winning water-polo players, you’d agree. The people that should be working to fix this, the powerful editors and highly respected older statesmen, are (with some notable brave and bold exceptions) either making excuses, keeping their mouths shut or benefiting from the situation.

Sling your rocks and arrows below. Please don't hesitate to remind me that I'm old and outdated, and thus have no idea what I'm talking about.