As a young doctor starting out in my profession I wanted to stake a claim in academia – doing research and teaching about human aging.  What I achieved is something different from what I originally intended when I began my project of visually documenting the process of growing old.

Initially I tried to catalog the physical manifestations of aging.  Using Kodachrome slide film and flash, I captured changes of the skin and musculoskeletal system, supplementing my portfolio with x-rays that enhanced understanding of the physiology of growing old.  One day out of curiosity I switched to black and white film, turned off the flash, and stepped back to photograph my patients in their natural environment and captured the interactions between me and my subject.

To my surprise I discovered an entirely new landscape, the complex psychological and essentially human process of life in old age.  My camera helped me to see my aging patients in an entirely new way – one that was not taught in medical school – viewing my patients not as illnesses but as people.

I began photographing elderly people in nursing homes in New York City where I worked.  To contrast illness with robust, healthy aging, I sought out older individuals in different environments including motorcycle rallys, tattoo contests, rodeos, Native American reservations, and tennis courts.

I used a variety of film cameras, starting with an Olympus OM2S, and moving to a Nikon FE.  When my uncle died I inherited his Leica M4 with an array of fixed focal-length lenses.  The first time I handled it I thought I never saw a camera so ungainly.  It was completely manual and needed a separate light meter.  But once I started to use it, I appreciated its quiet elegance and incredible sharpness.

By the time I converted to digital image capture in 2008 with a Canon 5D, I amassed over 12,000 negatives.  I picked the best which presented the emotion, power, and diversity of old age, scanned and printed them and assembled a show entitled “Aging Through a Physician’s Lens.”   My show has had some success traveling around the country, appearing in healthcare facilities and medical schools.  Other photos have appeared in dozens of medical journals.  There are links to some published photos as well as samples from my aging portfolios in my website, www.levinemdphotos.com.

Despite the fact that the aging demographic is the most rapidly growing sector of American society, honest, sympathetic and realistic images of aging are hard to find.  We are conditioned by our media to view aging in a negative light, and the images that are out there reinforce our stereotypes.  Despite the demographics, of great concern is that the specialty of geriatrics finds few candidates among graduating medical students.  Medical care for a 90 year-old is much different from a 50 year-old, and the medical profession still has some way to go toward accepting this concept.

Old age is a time of growth and change, and I am continually fascinated learning how people cope with the enormous challenge on so many levels.  As a physician who specializes in geriatrics, I have cared for many older people.  As a photographer, my images show a side of human life that our culture has conditioned us to turn away from.  In my photos I try to show not just the pain and wrinkles, but the inner spirit that has enabled and resulted in longevity.  I hope that my images will bend society’s views of growing old and open our eyes to new possibilities as we age.

'Cat Walk' from 'Chica Barbie.' ©Carl Bower

Miki Johnson: Tell me a little about how you first found out about the beauty pageants of Colombia.

Carl Bower: I saw a small article in the New York Times that said there was a pageant there for practically anything imaginable — Miss Sun, Miss Sea, Miss Purity, Miss Pretty Legs, Miss Honey — the list went on. I was intrigued by the juxtaposition of these contests with everything else I had been reading about Colombia: the cartels, the guerrillas, the bombings and kidnappings. I thought of how such parallel realities could coexist and the extent to which our popular conception of the country had been a caricature formed by stories of the drug trade.

At the time I came across the article, I was supporting a close friend in her battle with breast cancer. She had been a national champion ballroom dancer and a competitive bodybuilder. Her appearance was something that she took pride in and took pains to maintain even as she lost one breast, then another, and suffered the effects of chemotherapy and radiation. Throughout her ordeal, I noticed how her sexuality seemed undiminished, if not stronger. I started to wonder, if a beautiful person gradually loses elements deemed to be part of that beauty, where is the tipping point at which they are no longer beautiful? Is there one?

In my anger and frustration with the cancer and growing obsession with the commoditization of beauty, the story of the pageants struck a nerve. Here was an environment where all the issues I was grappling with were stripped bare and distilled to the point that it might be possible to convey some of them on film.

At first I tried finding the pageants through government records, but most of the information was unreliable or outdated. Through a friend, I met a fashion designer commissioned to create the dresses for a candidate to the national pageant. I photographed her preparation and coaching, learned of regional pageants, and met with judges, organizers, parents of contestants. I visited modeling agencies and schools where girls were being trained to compete in the pageants from the age of four.

'Aguardiente' from 'Chica Barbie.' ©Carl Bower

When I learned of festivals occurring throughout the country, I went to various towns and introduced myself in their mayors’ offices. I went everywhere: to the national pageants, with their weeks-long round-the-clock media blitz, to high school pageants, to pageants with just three candidates.

I began to see how the pageants were one of the few unifying threads in a country compartmentalized by geography, politics, and social stratification. It seemed that everyone, regardless of social standing, had an opinion about them: not on whether they were good or bad, or whether they should exist, but on who should win. When I returned to the United States, I found that some of the complexity I experienced was missing from the photos, so I went back. I kept finding new layers of meaning, so I ended up going back again and again.

MJ: You said that as you’ve gotten deeper into the story it has gotten more complicated and you feel more ambivalent about the role of these pageants in the culture (something visible in the images). What were some of the contradictions you discovered?

CB: When I began photographing, I felt that the pageants were essentially meat markets. It wasn’t just that thousands of people were scrutinizing the contestants’ bodies; what struck me was the categorical, exhaustive, and unforgiving nature of it. Are her ankles thick? Who has breast implants? Who doesn’t but should? Whose ass is too small, too large, or shaped like melons when it should be like oranges? After the current Miss Colombia was crowned last November, there were months of public demands that she have her nose fixed to better compete in Miss World.

Even in comparison to our own celebrity-obsessed culture, the arguments and scoring in Colombia had developed to the level of sport. I thought of all the young girls in the audiences with their jaws dropped in awe. Had they already decided what it meant to be a woman, what it meant to have value, what they needed to be loved? Given my friend’s experience and the questions and emotional baggage I began with, I think I was preconditioned to see things in fairly stark terms.

Those feelings haven’t changed, but they have been complemented by others. For example, there was almost always a genuine enthusiasm in the crowds, which included old, young, male, female, rich, and poor. And despite the crude assessments, the favorites of the crowd were not always the most beautiful — they often seemed the most intelligent or exuded a stronger sense of character. While the source of young men’s enthusiasm was fairly easy to track, older men and women expressed a sort of paternal affection. And even as the candidates molded their personalities into coquettish personas, they were still excited to be there.

'Miss Coffee' from 'Chica Barbie.' ©Carl Bower

One of the first things I had trouble reconciling was the absolute mania over the pageants with an environment where the threat of violence was nearly ubiquitous. More than half of the Colombians who invited me into their homes eventually showed me “The Picture.” The face in the photo was always different, but I came to expect and dread the moment it would come out. A brother killed by the FARC. Someone’s else’s brother, killed for the pesos in his pocket. A friend kidnapped years ago who hadn’t been seen since.

The woman who introduced me to the fashion designer went to the funeral of a very close friend, then held a huge party at her apartment only a few days later. I asked if it was difficult, having it so soon. She gave me a long look. “If we went into a period of mourning every time someone we knew was killed, we wouldn’t have time for anything else.”

It’s boring to be a victim, and tiring. Pageants, soccer matches, festivals and concerts are not only opportunities to forget, but a form of defiance. A refusal to be defined by the violence or to wait in vain for it to end. Colombia’s problems have been grave, but Colombians themselves are astonishingly optimistic. It is one of the things I respect most about them, one of the things that keeps drawing me back.

MJ: Tell me about what it’s like to be a foreign male documenting these events so tied up in creating definitions of youth and femininity. Even here some people might question a man dealing with “women’s issues.”

CB: I don’t see that these are strictly women’s issues, or that a man shouldn’t be able to discuss them or be without empathy. We are all pressured at some point to fulfill certain roles based on what we look like more than on who we are. Sometimes we go along; sometimes we don’t. It’s actually the theme of the group show I’m in at the Farmani Gallery in New York, titled Select Gender.

I didn’t start this because I’m a feminist advocate or viewed the world primarily from a female perspective. It happened because I watched helplessly as one of my best friends was overcome by breast cancer and because of the pain and admiration I felt for the way she confronted it. I responded to what was in front of me, in the only way I knew.

After documenting her experience for several years (Diane’s Story), I began looking at the culture of the pageants. I’d love to say I set out on an altruistic mission, but this was originally driven more by my own anger and confusion and attempts to understand the issues. Despite my initial motivation, this project has probably raised more questions for me than it’s resolved, and I’m at the point now where I feel that may be an end unto itself.

'Circle of Men' from 'Chica Barbie.' ©Carl Bower

I don’t think my gender hindered the project once people got to know me. I tried to be very open about what I was doing, explaining that I was mostly interested in the idea of the contests, how young women were transforming themselves to meet a very specific ideal, and the fact that the obsession for the contests was on a scale North Americans could only imagine. I think some people were just relieved to have a foreigner focusing on anything other than violence and the drug trade.

I tried to speak with the organizers, security teams, judges, and always the candidates themselves before I started photographing, so they knew I was approaching things from a different place. Some didn’t know what to make of me, but decided that I must be harmless.

I traveled with the candidates whenever possible, until most just thought of me as part of the entourage. I was usually allowed to work in areas that were off limits to local photographers, who were perceived as using their credentials as passports for voyeurism and chatting up the girls. So in many cases my position as an outsider was probably an advantage.

MJ: This project is now your first book. What have you learned about making images for a book and how that differs from a long photo story?

CB: I viewed a book as an extended essay until I started laying one out, turning the pages and realizing things just weren’t working. When I first started shooting, I was thinking only of a series of images, each driving home a different aspect of the themes I was exploring, built into a narrative.

When I started paying attention to books I really liked however, I started to see that many were not only documents but meditations, and that the interplay between these forms gave them a certain rhythm that drew me in and kept me there. In the books I returned to most, there seemed to be a point where I wasn’t so much studying the pictures as breathing them in, absorbing them through osmosis, without being aware of exactly what I was thinking.

I also found myself flipping back and forth more, sometimes going back and pausing a long time at a more meditative picture without knowing why. When I jumped forward to where I’d been before, I realized my perception of the latter photo had changed, like I’d been given a key without knowing the direct connection, or passed a divide between information and understanding. Photo stories, more topical and limited in length, often can’t accommodate the more meditative pictures. But the books are dead without them.

From the Faces 4 Reform project. ©Robert & Robbie Bailey

Name: Robert & Robbie Bailey
Website: faces4reform.com
Age: 42  & 41
Location: New York
Kind of photography we specialize in: Portraiture

Personal project name and short description: Faces4Reform – Portraits of America’s Uninsured. According to the 2008 U.S. Census Bureau, there were 46.3 million people living in the United State without health insurance.  This series of portraits gives you a close look at some of their faces.

When and why did you start it?
Towards the end of the summer, we began to pay close attention to the debate over health insurance reform.  As small business owners, we personally understand the plight of the uninsured.  For years, we worked 80 hour weeks but were still unable to afford the high premiums unfairly imposed on the self-employed.  We opted for a reasonable state subsidized insurance plan but that has increased by 65% in the last three years.  If something doesn’t change, we could be uninsured again in the very near future.

Aside from our own personal motivation, we felt compelled to respond to the misconceptions about the uninsured.  There are those that would like for you to believe that the majority are illegal immigrants or welfare recipients. In contrast, many of the uninsured people that we know are productive, hardworking individuals and families that are simply locked out of a broken system.

Sadly, political lines have been drawn, the spin-masters are hard at work, and the American public is once again at the mercy of entertainment journalism and those that specialize in misinformation. When that happens, those most affected get lost in the discussion and politics takes precedence over people. This series of portraits hopes to humanize the ongoing debate and encourage participation in the political process. As artists and small business owners, we obviously don’t have the money or influence to affect polices in Washington but we do possess a creative power that can be used to inform and inspire.

Do you have a particular image you are especially drawn to so far?
The power in this particular body of work lies in seeing the images as a collective.

What has been the most challenging thing about the project?
Finding the time to do it.

What has been the most rewarding thing about it?
The most rewarding thing about this project has been the response from the creative community. Several of our fellow photographers donated their studio space and equipment. Art director friends helped us create a logo and offered ongoing design advice. Jon Lucich, the representative for our commercial site, presented the idea to liveBooks and helped us secure the Face4Reform website.  And, most importantly, the many uninsured individuals who generously contributed their time and bravely posed for portraits. Their faces and their stories have affected us more than they could ever know.

In your ideal world, where would this project end up?
Realistically, since this is a no-budget personal project, we are currently relying on word of mouth, grassroots marketing.  Since it is hot topic and a timely subject, we think it would be appropriate for various forms of media.  Of course, we’d love to have it printed in the New York Times Magazine, or other respected publications but it would also be relevant as part of a health insurance reform segment on radio or television.  We are also planning an upcoming gallery exhibition.

Do you recommend personal projects to other photographers, and why?
As professional photographers, personal projects are good for your soul.  The commercial work can be financially rewarding and creatively stimulating but they often lack substance.  Although the process can be exhausting, personal projects help to remind us of who we are and why we became photographers in the first place.

Name: Josh Maready
Website: joshmaready.com
Age: 30
Location: NYC

What kind of photography do you specialize in?
I shoot mostly fashion and portraiture, but I feel really connected to photojournalism and documentary. I like capturing pieces of history that otherwise might have been lost or forgotten.

Personal project name and short description
Pic-A-Pet: This is a slideshow and interview with Mr. Madonna, the owner of a small plant and pet store named “Pic-A-Pet” in my hood in Inwood, at the very top of Manhattan.

When and why did you start it?
My old apartment was right above where the super put all of the trash overnight before he put it out on the street, and because of it there were always some stray flies that found their way in. I got pissed and went on a search to find some Venus fly traps that led me to Pic-A-Pet. I loved that place ever since I first walked in.

I have soft spot for old stores — the dirtier and more cluttered the better. Those places are so full of stories and have so much soul, you know?  I instantly wanted to take pictures of that place and hear some of those stories, so I grabbed my camera and voice recorder and sat down with the owner, Mr, Madonna.  Sadly, he had Stage 4 cancer and died a couple of weeks after our interview. It’s pretty amazing to think that because of the interview I did, a few of his stories will always be alive. That’s powerful stuff.

Mr. Madonna by Josh Maready

Do you have a particular image you are especially drawn to so far?
From this story, I like two images the most: a portrait of Mr. Madonna smiling and a picture of his cluttered cash register that he told me he hasn’t used since the first day he opened. In the portrait, maybe it’s the smile he’s wearing, even though I knew he was in pain, or maybe the sunlight hitting the dust on his glasses. The register, to me, is a perfect summary of everything I love about old stores.

What has been the most challenging thing about the project?
The most challenging part was the editing. I sat down and talked with Mr. Madonna for almost an hour and a half. So taking all of those stories and condensing them into 10 minutes was tough.

What has been the most rewarding thing about it?
Just what I said earlier — to know that I was a part of keeping someone’s legacy alive is a huge honor.  Mr. Madonna was loved by so many people. And even though this is a small and unworthy tribute for such a good man, at least it’ll give people a taste of what he was like.

In your ideal world, where would this project end up?
I hope this ends up in front of the eyes of people who appreciate the stories of the unknown heros of the world as much as I do.

Do you recommend personal projects to other photographers, and why?
Totally. I try to find time to fuel the creative fire by shooting things that really mean something to me. This project was time consuming and finding free time is hard. Freeing up time is usually hard to justify. But to look back and feel like I’ve done something good for the world is worth it.

Wow – you wanna hear something weird? Right now as i’m writing this I just got an email from someone who had known Mr. Madonna. They told me they just watched the slideshow/interview and then poured their heart out about Mr. Madonna and told me a few of their own stories about him. That’s it, man! That’s why I love this stuff! That’s good fuel for the fire and motivation for the next few stories I have in mind…

©Lisa Wiseman (2)

Name: Lisa Wiseman
Website: lisawiseman.com
Age: 27
Location: San Francisco
Full-time job: Photographer

Personal project name and short description
The New Polaroid — This project is shot completely with my iPhone and is an exploration of iPhone as the new Polaroid. As the iPhone is becoming a ubiquitous and trendy accessory, on-the-go picture taking is now the norm. I see people using their iPhones to take spontaneous photos in the same carefree way that cheap Polaroid has been used in the past. In concept and ideology, the iPhone mimics Polaroid; however, it pushes the aesthetic forward by utilizing a new non-film (but technologically infantile) medium. Just like traditional Polaroids had a specific size and unique look, iPhone photos are unmistakable because the technology limits them to a fixed size and resolution and imbues them with a unique chromatic aberration that says “iPhone” and nothing else.

©Lisa Wiseman (2)

When and why did you start it?
I have been shooting with my iPhone since I got it approximately two years ago. I started showing The New Polaroid alongside my portraiture portfolios on my website and in my book in June, 2008, along with other personal work including a project shot on traditional Polaroid film. It was important to me to show my potential clients another side of my shooting personality — I wanted creatives to have a feel for what the world looks like to me and what I photograph when I’m not shooting portraits. With a wider breadth of work encompassing still lifes and interiors, I wanted to show that my vision carries through everything I shoot. Showing personal work has directly led to jobs, and when I show my work in person my work seems to resonate more with the viewer because it includes the iPhone images and traditional Polaroids.

©Lisa Wiseman (2)

Do you have a particular image you are especially drawn to so far?
There are always a handful of images that I’m partial to at any given time but it changes frequently! I am drawn to shooting windows, lamps, and empty beds, so there’s often one of those in there. (My favorites right now are the photos included with this blog post)

What has been the most challenging thing about the project?
Because this project is about showing the work that I see and shoot all the time, it’s more inspiring and exciting than challenging. Of course there are snags here and there, but the excitement of showing work that I love overwhelms any challenges I would face.

©Lisa Wiseman (2)

What has been the most rewarding thing about it?
To have other people resonate with my personal intimate work is lovely and very rewarding. I also really enjoy that The New Polaroid has sparked a lot of conversation and interest around my work, including people sending me their own projects or iPhone photos or telling me stories about what my images evoke for them. I love to know when one of my photos causes someone to remember or feel something from their own history. When there is a link between past and present through my images, that’s my favorite thing.

In your ideal world, where would this project end up?
Currently I include iPhone images and traditional Polaroids in my fine art work and gallery exhibits and I would be thrilled to be assigned to shoot a job on my iPhone.

Do you recommend personal projects to other photographers, and why?
Absolutely yes! Shooting what I love makes me feel driven and in love with my career. It also keeps my work fresh and complex and prevents me from becoming stale. I couldn’t imagine not doing it.

Pronghorn antelope in western Wyoming.

Name: Joe Riis
Website: www.joeriis.com
Age: 25
Location: Moose, Wyoming right now and moving to Bijou Hills, South Dakota, early in 2010. I want to live in a cabin on the prairie.
Full-time job: Wildlife photographer and videographer

Personal project name and short description
Pronghorn Passage, a conservation photography project that focuses on the Grand Teton National Park pronghorn migration. Each fall a herd of 400 pronghorn antelope migrate from Grand Teton National Park down into the Upper Green River Basin of Wyoming, a total round-trip journey of 300 miles. This migration is the second longest overland mammal migration in the western hemisphere (after caribou in Alaska). The migration corridor is being squeezed down by residential development and mineral extraction on the private and public lands that it crosses. Pronghorn Passage is a collaborative project between myself and essayist Emilene Ostlind.

When and why did you start it?
The project was actually Emilene’s idea; she approached me and wanted to work together. She is a writer, and was just finishing up working at National Geographic Magazine and as Steve Winter’s assistant on his snow leopard story in India. She was coming back home to Wyoming to write a selection of essays about the pronghorn migration and wanted me to photograph it. At the time, I was just finishing up a 2-year conservation photography project on environmental threats to the Missouri River. I was ready to start photographing something new, and the pronghorn project, which had never been photographed before, seemed like a great idea.

I started researching and filling out grant applications in November 2007, and started my fieldwork in May 2008, the day after I graduated from the University of Wyoming with a bachelor’s in Wildlife Biology. We got the project fully funded through the National Geographic Expeditions Council, The Banff Centre, University of Wyoming, North American Nature Photographers Association, Grand Teton National Park, and Patagonia the clothing company. I feel very fortunate to have received so much financial backing for the project, which has allowed me to focus all my efforts on fieldwork.

I am still surprised by the support we got, but the bottom line is that the pronghorn story had all the elements to a good wildlife story. A small herd of pronghorn migrating a super long distance over an incredible landscape, under threat, that had never been photographed before — plus we were two young Wyomingites who wanted to live with pronghorn. The reason is hadn’t been photographed before is because it takes a huge time commitment, at least a full year. No one knew exactly where they were migrating so I had to do field biology before I could photograph it. Because most of my work is by camera trap, I have to know exactly where the animals are moving.

Do you have a particular image you are especially drawn to so far?
I like the top picture because it was my first decent picture of the project and the first camera-trap picture I ever made. The one with the truck is very simple: It gives the viewer a glimpse into the plight of the pronghorn.

The Grand Teton pronghorn are the only pronghorn in the world that traverse big rivers, so I spent two months this past spring focusing entirely on river crossings. The bottom picture was the first camera-trap picture I got in the water. The picture probably won’t get much use, but I like it a lot.

What has been the most challenging thing about the project?
Since I went to school for wildlife biology and haven’t ever taken a photography course, the computer work and file management is hard for me. For example, managing file names for five cameras is difficult, especially when I have multiple camera traps making pictures at the exact same time. And editing, of course. I always want to pick the pictures that took a lot of energy to get, which many times are not the best images to tell the story.

What has been the most rewarding thing about it?
I’ve been able to discover and see things about this migration that no one knew happened. I’ve see some wildlife spectacles that I know I am very fortunate to experience: wolves, bears, mountain lions, and huge herds of elk and pronghorn. Those are things that I knew I was going to see when planning the project.

What I didn’t know was that I would meet and spend time with so many people who live in the mountains of western Wyoming. I am not talking about the people living in Jackson Hole, I am talking about ranchers, cowhands and wranglers, loggers, postmasters and snowplow drivers, oil and gas folk, the people who are actually Wyomingites.

One family in particular, the Domeks, have been awesome to get to know. They’ve opened their lives to me and let me in; I feel like I’ve almost become a member of the family. It’s hard for me to explain my relationship with them in words, but through example they’ve taught me a lot about what I “want” and “need” in life. I’ve had so many great conversations with them over a cup of tea or bottle of wine, usually sitting next to the wood stove, in their little cabin on the hill. One morning during breakfast this past winter, the five of us watched a pack of wolves hunt a small group of pronghorn from the kitchen table. It was absolutely incredible.

In your ideal world, where would this project end up?
Well, I am a wildlife photographer so the easy answer is National Geographic Magazine, mainly because the readership of NGM is so large and spans the globe. But I think that qualifies more as a dream than reality. I have a pronghorn feature story scheduled for the November issue of Ranger Rick Magazine, which is cool because almost every grade schooler in the U.S.A. reads that magazine. I also have a feature in National Geographic Adventure this coming winter/spring sometime.

The magazines are great, but I really want to see my images printed big in a exhibition. I think camera trap pictures look awesome when they get really big. Emilene and I are planning the Pronghorn Passage exhibition now, which will include about 25 pieces, printed big on canvas wraps. The Field Museum in Chicago is at the top of my list for museums. It would also be great to take it to D.C. — I think our policy makers need to see it.

Do you recommend personal projects to other photographers, and why?
It’s the only way to make a break right now. Pick a subject matter that you truly care about, pick something that’s difficult, then shoot the best pictures of your subject that have ever been made. And finally, don’t finish the project until the entire story can be told with 10 to 15 pictures.

The great thing about personal projects is that the amount of time and dedication you put into it is totally up to you. The reward is a direct result of the effort; you don’t work for anybody and no one tells you what to do. So you have the total freedom to create something that wouldn’t be made if it wasn’t for you doing it. I like that.

Garrett with his mom and dad. ©André Hermann

Name: André Hermann
Website: www.andrehermannphoto.com
Age: 35
Location: Oakland, CA
Full-time job: Visual storyteller

Personal project name and description
Garrett: The Boy Beneath The Bandages — Epidermolysis Bullosa, or, EB, is a rare genetic skin disease that most people have never heard of, yet it affects 100,000 children across the United States alone. Children born with this disease lack the ability to produce the collagen-7 protein that acts as a glue to bind the inner and outer layers of skin together. Their skin is extremely sensitive and fragile, with open wounds similar to third degree burns that never heal. The slightest friction or bump causes the skin to blister and break down. EB kids live relatively short lives, wrapped in bandages and in constant pain.

This series of images tells the story of a 12-year-old boy named Garrett, his family, and the challenges they face every day because of this debilitating disease. EB not only takes a toll on its victims and their families, it also affects their friends, caregivers, and the communities that help them. Through these images, I will attempt to give a face to this horrific and unpublicized disease.

When and why did you start it?
I started work on this story in 2008 as my thesis while pursuing a masters in photography at the Academy of Art University. During the summer semester of 2007, I answered an ad on the school’s job board. A nonprofit organization that ran a week-long summer camp for kids with genetic skin disorders needed a photographer. I jumped at the opportunity.

During the week of camp, I met Garrett and his family. I had never heard of EB. In a weird way, I feel like this story found me. Everything just seemed to fall into place. Garrett’s family and I both recognized this as an opportunity to gain much needed awareness for the disease. I pitched the idea to them. I was nervous because I was asking them to enter a 1-year+ commitment without knowing much about me. They agreed to the idea, and here we are today.

Do you have a particular image you are especially drawn to so far?
This is a tough question. The image above is the decisive moment of the story. It’s said that a picture is worth a thousand words. In my opinion this photo is the story. This image shows the pain and suffering this kid lives with every day. His bandages, which act as a protective layer, must be changed three times a week. Imagine having your skin peeled away every couple days, and you start to get a hint of what Garrett goes through.

What has been the most challenging thing about the project?
First, due to Garrett’s limited physical activity, he spends much of his free time sitting on the couch, watching basketball or playing video games. I often found myself reshooting my own images, fighting with repetition. To overcome this challenge, I had to become extremely aware of Garrett. I had to learn to slow down and pay attention, yet move quickly to decide what to do with those moments when they happened. For example, wide angle, medium angle, close-up, or extreme close-up of Garrett’s body, an eye, mouth, expression.

Second, photographing in the chaos of someone’s home, where I can’t control the positioning of furniture, pictures, clutter, etc. It took me some time and patience to finally resolve this. Thankfully this story was so forgiving. I had the luxury of returning a couple times per week to work on it.

What has been the most rewarding thing about it?

The most rewarding part of this project was when Garrett’s mom, Lorraine, shared her opinion of my work with me. During a visit to Newman, Lorraine thanked me for what I have done. She told me that in the beginning she was skeptical about letting a student into her family’s private life to work on a “school project.”

Many times before, neighborhood kids, classmates, and community parents had asked if they could use Garrett as a topic for their science projects and reports. Deeply angered, she told me, “I really didn’t like the idea of reducing Garrett to a ‘science project.’” After seeing the photographs I was creating, witnessing my growing dedication to EB, Lorraine was quickly won over. She gave me her complete trust and allowed me into their private life.

In your ideal world, where would this project end up?
If I had it my way, this story would be shown in National Geographic (black & white), Washington Post, New York Times, and every other major media outlet, where it would get the attention it deserves. In my ideal world, this story would travel from city to city, from gallery to gallery. This is a rare genetic skin disease that only affects children. Skin is our body’s largest organ, and the one we most take for granted. People need to see Garrett and be aware of this disease. Maybe we would stop taking things, like our bodies, for granted if we saw what a year in Garrett’s life is like.

Do you recommend personal projects to other photographers, and why?
Absolutely. They are an opportunity for release. They offer a chance to do what we do best, often without the time and budget restrictions that hinder other jobs. We are free to choose topics that mean something to us personally. They help us grow as people and as professionals, and they help us form relationships and friendships that last beyond the end of the project.

One of Gustavo's photos from his Hogs for Kids tour. ©Gustavo Fernandez

No one has more power to change the world than photographers. Yes, yes, doctors are regarded as the human deities of the world, but with few exceptions photographers are embraced with open arms everywhere they go. Because whatever your photographic discipline, and no matter where you travel, you can barter your talent as a shooter for just about anything. Including the well being of children in a far away country.

A week and a half ago photographer Gustavo Fernandez packed up his Harley Davidson to be shipped back to California from New York. He had successfully concluded his second annual “Hog for Kids” motorcycle ride across the United States in a bid to raise money for impoverished children in the Dominican Republic, where Fernandez was born.

In his first career, as a pharmaceutical rep, Gustavo frequently contributed to Children International, a Kansas City-based organization that aids needy children around the world. When he left that steady paycheck last year and plunged into a new career as a photographer, Gustavo (like most making that transition) was watching his bank account with a frugal eye. His budget wouldn’t accommodate his annual donation to his favorite charity.

Gustavo Fernandez ©Michele Celentano

Unwilling to abandon the kids of the Dominican Republic, Gustavo went on a motorcycle ride to conjure a creative solution. He was sitting on the answer. He loves riding his Harley and he loves making pictures. Thus emerged Hog for Kids.

As he rode east to New York, Gustavo shot portraits of the children along the way — in exchange, the families contributed his room, board, and a $264 annual ($22 monthly) sponsorship of a child through Children International. This year’s successful trip took 28 days and received international attention. Gustavo says he is looking forward to riding again next year — provided he gets the feeling back in ass by then.

There is no other art form that is so versatile in it’s adaptability and portability for aiding others than photography. As Gustavo demonstrated, all that’s required is the will and the application. Your efforts don’t need to be as grand as a motorcycle ride across the country, but I do urge you to try and find a charitable application of your talent at least once a year. Not only is it good for your soul, it’s good for your career.

As Gustavo discovered, any experience with a camera in your hand, paid or charitable, will always make you a better shooter than you were the day before. He returned from his first Hog for Kids ride a markedly better shooter than before he left. When you place yourself in photographic situations that are unfamiliar and require you to adapt quickly, you’ll be improving by a significant factor. If those situations are charitable in nature, you have more latitude for mistakes, which will ultimately prepare you for the times when mistakes are less tolerable.

Photography is a unique profession that is a golden key to the world. Don’t keep it all for yourself.

One of Sol's Redneck Games images, which ran in National Geographic. ©Sol Neelman

Miki Johnson: So tell me what you’ve been working on now.

Sol Neelman: I’ve been working on a long-term project, photographing weird sports and the culture of sports around the world. Recently, I photographed dog surfing in San Diego, pro wrestling in Mexico, the Lumberjack World Champs in Wisconsin, and bike polo in Seattle. Up next is a prison rodeo in Oklahoma.

I try to keep myself busy with fun sporting events. It’s an excuse to travel, which is one of my addictions. Along the way I’ll do some traditional sports, such as The Beijing Olympics and college football. I just went to my first Cubs game at Wrigley and photographed the fans in the bleachers. That was fun.

My goal is to get this work published in a book. Ideally it would encompass everything in sports – not just weird sports. It doesn’t need to be the Redneck Games to be good. But the Redneck Games were pretty good.

As far as work, last year I did a commission piece for a developer for whom I photographed downtown Portland for a year. They hung my photographs in the lobby and on each floor of their new building, which ironically is located right across the street from The Oregonian. I’ve also been doing work for Nike and a local bank, plus some weddings. Things are kind of hit or miss, so I try to stay busy with my own project to fill the time.

I’m still trying to figure out how to expose myself to more advertising firms. I recently signed up with Adbase and plan to contact firms that seem like a good fit. At the same time, I’m really trying hard to steer away from editorial clients, just because their rates are so low.

I think one mistake a lot of newspaper photographers make is that they’re still trying to work for editorial clients. It’s very rewarding, but when The New York Times is paying $200 day rates, you can’t make a living off that. So I think the more important avenues are commercial, advertising and corporate clients.

MJ: And how have you found it to be trying to get into those? Did you consider finding a rep?

SN: I work with a couple people in LA, but I would love to find a nationwide rep. I wish there were more photo reps who were looking to take on new clients. That would make it a lot easier for me to do what I do best — take pictures.

Most of the photographers I know are not talented business people. It’s not an intuitive skill for photographers, I think, to be on top of it financially. They’re happy to make pictures, and they’re happy to be paid for it. Unfortunately, they’re not always diligent about being paid appropriately.

And it’s a tough thing to do. It’s tough to walk up to a client and say, I’m worth $2,000 a day or $5,000 a day or whatever. Ideally, if you have a good photo rep, he or she would be better at negotiating and – more importantly – finding you quality clients.

One of Sol's wedding images. ©Sol Neelman

MJ: Talk to me a little bit about weddings and how those are going.

SN: It’s supplemental income, one part of the puzzle for me. I have not booked as many as I would like this year. Last year was a little busier. I think it’s harder for people to drop adult wages for a wedding right now when there are so many photographers out there willing to work for less.

Generally I find clients through word of mouth. I signed up for WPJA, and I get some traffic to my wedding website from that. But I’ve only booked one or two weddings from them. What I really need to do better is to hit the streets and talk with local wedding coordinators and event planners directly.

MJ: What was the hardest or the scariest thing when you left the paper?

SN: Well, I think the scary part is the lack of stability. Newspapers have always been a safety net, a security blanket for photographers, a way to make a living taking pictures. When you’re freelance, you’re in charge of earning money and that task can be pretty daunting.

On the flip side, you become your own assignment editor, and how cool is that? There’s a lot of freedom working for yourself. And a lot more fun.

Lucha Libra fans. ©Sol Neelman

I say embrace your strengths. I love shooting sports. There was a certain point where instead of trying to be all things to all people, I just embraced sports photography and said, “I’m gonna own this. This is gonna be me.” It doesn’t mean I can’t do other things, but sports photography is my passion.

MJ: So are there big questions that you are still trying to figure out?

SN: I want to know how to find a full time photo rep. That world is so intimidating. I’m very fortunate to have some friends who are in the advertising world, and that’s how I cracked the code a little bit. But I’m not doing as much as I want to. I really feel that having some form of manager is key, to free me up to spend more time taking fun photos.

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Elliott Erwitt and Jim Marshall, from Tim Mantoani's "Behind Photographs" project. ©Tim Mantoani Photography Inc.

Name: Tim Mantoani
Website: www.mantoani.com
Age: 40
Location: San Diego
Full-time job: Photographer

Personal project name and description
Behind Photographs — I have been shooting portraits of photographers for the past 2.5 years on 20×24 Polaroid. Each photographer is holding an image they are known for. As many of these photographers, like Polaroid, fade away, I hope these images will be a way for future generation to appreciate the contribution these artists have made.

When and why did you start it?
I started shooting in Dec ‘06; I always wanted to try shooting with the 20×24 Polaroid. Since it is expensive to rent, I wanted to shoot something that meant something special to me. I knew both Jim Marshall and Michael Zagaris and asked them to bring in a favorite image to hold for a portrait. It all snowballed from there.

What is your favorite image so far?
Too many great images and memories to call out a single image.

What has been the most challenging thing about the project?
Cost and time. I have really maxed myself out financially shooting this project, but it is all starting to come together now that people can see the work. Sadly, some of the participants have passed away, but it is a great feeling to know that I can help keep their legacies alive.

What has been the most rewarding thing about it?
Being able to spend some time with each of these photographers, to hear their stories and collaborate on the final image.

In your ideal world, where would this project end up?
I would love to see this project in a large venue where I can show all of the images at full size.

Do you recommend personal projects to other photographers, and why?
Every photographer has a personal project they want to shoot. JUST GO DO IT!!!! There will always be a bunch of reasons not to: money, time, risk. But at the end of the day, the images you shoot for YOU are the ones that will be your best and the most rewarding. The roller coaster is more fun than the merry-go-round.