I don’t know if I’ve talked about it here before, but I love making books. There are very few things that give me the same oversized feeling of satisfaction as holding a book that I made. There is a liability, though.
Once you put something down in fixed form like in a book, it becomes a permanent point from where all future progress is then measured. Pre-book, if I go out shooting and came back with a lot of similar shots, it’s the sign of a recognizable style, a particular point of view. Post-publication, if I go out shooting and come back with shots too much like those in the book, it’s a sign that I’m in danger of stagnating in familiar, comfortable spaces and need to shake things up. Publishing a book is almost like saying “That’s done. Time to move on to something else.” But sometimes, I don’t want to be done.
In any case, here’s my book: How to Wait a Million Years.
Now hear the album: http://www.hairlesswoman.com/
This is the result of the 24-Hour Circus Music Marathon that I shot on March 15, 2011. You know, the hardest part about the project was getting songs stuck in my head that there was no way to hear again. Until now, that is.
While I have a deep love for shooting people doing things they’re good at, no matter what they are, as a pseudo-musician myself, I have special love for photographing musicians. I can’t quite describe what it’s like for me to watch a real musician perform. Sometimes it’s like watching someone write their own autobiography in front of you. Sometimes, it’s like finding a golden ticket that grants admission to a secret art factory. I don’t know.
I sure would like to do more of it, though.
November 17, 2010 – 11:36 am
A pretty good summary of why I want to be a documentary photographer, even though I’m not especially interested in photojournalism:
“There is a division in photo reportage. There is photojournalism and there are photo documentaries: Identical mediums, but conveying very different messages. Documentary photographers reveal the infinite number of situations, actions and results over a period of time. In short, they reveal life. Life isn’t a moment. It isn’t a single situation, since one situation is followed by another and another. Which one is life?”
Read the full essay here: Photojournalism and Documentary Photography
November 10, 2010 – 10:47 am
You can’t possibly know how amazing this photo really is.
At the moment this photo was taken, my friend was dealing with a host of illnesses, including pneumonia, rheumatoid arthritis, and epilepsy – all while trying to navigate the freakish and surreal world of underinsured healthcare in America.
And yet in spite of all that – or perhaps because of it – she still found the strength, much less the will, to lift herself gracefully into the air and reclaim some of the self that existed before all those things happened.
But you still can’t possibly know how amazing this photo really is.
Heck, neither can I.
October 20, 2010 – 6:17 pm
I’m sure every street photographer gets this question at some point – why do you only shoot in big cities like New York (or Toronto or London)? In fact, someone asked me that very question a few weeks ago. Being on vacation this week, I’ve had the chance to shoot in some new locations and I’ve got a theory.
Basically, it’s a question of the city’s particular rhythm. For example, New York’s got the heartbeat of a chihuahua high on Red Bull. In contrast, Hartford (where this shot was taken) is more like a hibernating bear – its heart beats maybe once or twice a day, in an effort to conserve what little energy it has. And New Haven is somewhere in between.
I will absolutely grant that for someone who’s truly in time with the rhythm of the city they’re in, great street shots are much easier to get. But it’s really just a numbers game. When life is zipping past you at chihuahua speed, you’ve got nearly infinite opportunities to see something amazing and catch it. If you’re taking a picture of a hibernating bear, you run out of interesting shots pretty darn quickly. Front, side, top…um…what else? It’s also much easier to catch people in unguarded moments when they’re on their way to something else, distracted and impatient. People on Hartford’s streets seem to spend a lot more time just sitting idly – waiting for buses, waiting for lunch, waiting for whatever. Someone with a camera becomes a pretty obvious intrusion on that introspection.
Of course, it can be done. A good photographer can always get the shot. But where you’re shooting does make a world of difference.