livebooks blog

One of Garth's images that appeared in a book about clearcuts, of Yaky Kop Cone on Vancouver Island. ©Garth Lenz

In my last post, I talked about how a photographer can identify and approach NGOs (or, my specialty, an environmental NGO). As I said in that post, even after you form a relationship, getting an assignment to produce images can take a while. For larger NGOs, commissioning a photographer, covering expenses, and paying a day rate is a pretty rare occurrence. For the smaller NGOs, it’s even rarer. If your primary motivation for working with NGOs is to find a new market for your work, then you’re bound to be disappointed. That is not to say that NGOs can’t be a market but, to put it bluntly, if making money is your goal, there are a lot more effective places to put your energy.

A better way to assess if a relationship with an NGO is successful, is to consider whether you share some of the same long term goals and will be able to help each other accomplish those. In my own case, my long-term photographic and conservation interest in old-growth forests, the impacts of environmental degradation on indigenous peoples, and other issues align with a number of NGOs. These NGOs have helped me achieve my long-term goals as much as I have helped them, but the fact of the matter is, I would have found a way to work on these issues regardless of whether any NGO shared these same concerns.

So assuming you have an issue that you are compelled to document and you’ve identified one or several NGOs that share your interests, how can you build a relationship with them? Perhaps a few examples from my early experience will be instructive. With a couple of assignments under my belt and getting a little recognition for my work, I was asked to be a major contributor to a large-format coffee book on clearcut logging. A number of more established photographers, like Galen Rowell and Robert Glenn Ketchum were also involved, and, to the best of my knowledge, we all donated our time to the cause. It was a great experience for me — I had my expenses covered for a prolonged period of time in the field, was able to begin my work in the Canadian boreal region, met other committed photographers and activists, and received more recognition for my work.

After completing work on the clearcut book and witnessing so much devastation as a result of industrial logging, I felt compelled to share my experiences with a larger audience. In particular I was disturbed by plans to clearcut much of coastal Vancouver Island and the biologically rich, largely intact area of Clayoquot Sound. I was also deeply unsettled by the impact that logging and the associated pollution from pulp mills was having on the boreal and the local indigenous population. So, in the winter of 1993, I decided to go to Europe and give a series of presentations to build international awareness of what was going on in Canada.

One of the images Garth presented overseas to garner support for logging protections in Canada's Clayquot Sound. ©Garth Lenz

With the moral support of two NGOs, The Friends of Clayoquot Sound and the Valhalla Wilderness Society, and some logistical support from Greenpeace and others, a colleague and I made plans, raised money, and set off for six weeks to give about 60 presentations in England, Scotland, Germany, and to the European Parliament in Brussels. We passed the hat, slept on activist’s couches, and had a wonderful experience. Although no one paid us, and we did all our own fundraising to cover our basic costs. And at the end of the day, including donations at our events, we were able to pay ourselves a modest honorarium and to donate some money back to the cause. More importantly, I was able to promote issues important to me to prominent NGOs and publications. They in turn came to me for images when these issues grew and took on international significance.

All of these activities can be considered “growing the relationship.” They helped me become a better photographer and better known for my work, while putting me in contact with people and organizations that would later purchase images, fund my work, and occasionally offer me assignments. And because at that time I was also involved in campaign strategy, creating markets campaigns, being a spokesperson, and other non-photographic activities, I learned a lot about how photography can advance conservation campaigns.

With this intimate knowledge of the needs and operations of NGOs, I was in a better position to work with them to create joint projects and self-funded projects that would meet their needs. Given how closely I was working with NGO’s, I was able to fundraise through groups with a charitable status, enabling me to receive money from foundations or individuals, which they, in turn, could write off for tax purposes. For me, working this way — doing much of the initial work of creating a project, fundraising, and working with groups from inception to completion — is far more common simply being handed an assignment, and often a more rewarding way to work with an NGO.

An image from Ed's "Curse of the Black Gold" project, which leverages years worth of multimedia content to raise awareness about the tragic effects of the oil companies in the area. ©Ed Kashi

1/7/09

Photojournalism and the documentary tradition is alive and well, but like Frank Zappa once said about jazz, “Jazz is not dead, it just smells funny.” The question I constantly confront is, how do we move this medium forward into the new millennium, keeping it fresh, alive, relevant and growing? We cannot let the digital revolution destroy the magical powers of still photography. I firmly believe we are in a period of transcendent growth and opportunity. How do we reinvent still photography in the digital age and prove the naysayers wrong?

Having the patience and time to produce in-depth, meaningful work is of utmost importance — but now without the support of magazines, how do we continue? We cannot allow the economic and political shifts in media to destroy our ability to get out into the world to tell stories people want to hear and see. We’ve never been at a more challenging crossroads for photojournalism, and finding alternative sources of funding and dissemination are essential. What will those look like and who will they come from? My guess is from a variety of places: NGOs and other foundations with specific interest in the issues our work deals with, the editorial world both in print and online (with online providing the bulk of new opportunities over time), grants from both the arts and photography, but also direct partnerships with non-media sources such as universities.

In the face of all this uncertainty, it’s especially important to keep it real for yourself and true to your passions, causes, joys, and inquisitions. What drives me is the compulsion to seek a kind of truth, to find out what certain realities feel and look like as they relate to issues and themes that matter to me personally. Now when I translate those situations into stories, they are no longer only visual — instead they include all the elements of storytelling. Still images are the basis for these stories and the structure for my explorations. But utilizing more of the senses, with sound that incorporates the voices of my subjects, the ambient sounds of the situations my images are made in, moving imagery to give more visual dimension to the subjects and place, and finally music…that most universal of languages. Today we inhabit a playland of creative opportunities unrivaled from the past. Yet for me still photographs form the emotional core, visual feel, and personal approach to my work as firmly as ever.

A researcher pushes ice floes away from a delicate instrument. Photo by Chris Linder, WHOI

Ultimately, my goals as a photographer are to communicate three things: the process of doing science, the excitement of science as a career, and the beauty of the earth’s most remote places.

The “Live from the Poles” project has given the public a glimpse into a world that very few people will ever experience — the inner workings of major polar research expeditions to the Arctic and Antarctic. I believe that the “behind the scenes” moments of overcoming logistical hurdles, deploying instruments, and just plain surviving in the polar regions are all important stories that are seldom covered by traditional media. Let’s face it, working at the edge of the map is adventurous, and I shoot the expeditions like any other adrenalin-soaked activity like mountain biking or climbing. Which relates to my second goal…

I believe that scientists have suffered from a branding problem. What do you think of when you hear the word “scientist”? At least when I was growing up, it conjured images of white-bearded men scribbling obtuse formulas on blackboards or huddling over bubbling test tubes. While this stereotype may have some basis in fact, it doesn’t accurately describe the scientists I know. My colleagues at Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution and other earth science research institutions often brave punishing weather conditions to collect their field data, on glaciers, mountains, oceans, and volcanoes. I have photographed oceanographers working in the Gulf Stream off Cape Hatteras in winter, when waves up to 30 feet high threw our 177-foot research ship around like a child’s toy. I have trudged alongside glaciologists as they explored miles of rugged terrain on the Greenland Ice Sheet. These people are as tough as nails and determined to the core. With my photographs, I am hoping to create a new image of active, adventurous scientists. By extension, I hope that our audience, particularly kids, will develop a stronger interest in science as a career.

My final goal, to document the pristine and otherworldly environment of the polar regions is, in some ways, the easiest task and in other ways the hardest. Obviously, these places are incredible locations for landscape photography. There are no tripod holes from previous shooters here — in many cases I am seeing landscapes that no other human eyes have looked upon. But to get the very best shots, you need to give up certain comforts, like sleep. Often, the best light for landscape photography in the Arctic and Antarctic occurs in the middle of the “night.” During our final week on the Greenland Ice Sheet last summer, the entire sky flushed pink for an hour every night at about 2 a.m. Sleep becomes a luxury in conditions like that; I pushed myself hard every day to document the science, napped for a few hours, shot until 5am, then repeat. I just tell myself, you can catch up on sleep when you get back.

When working with consumer photographers (anyone who markets directly to the public), I always like to encourage them to show images that will make their potential clients believe that if they hire them, they’ll create that same MAGICAL moment for them. Those magical moments are why a consumer client hires a photographer. Regardless if it’s to capture their baby’s first year, their family portrait, or especially that bride’s special day, they want to believe you are the person to make that moment happen.

These are my recommendations for putting together a website of your wedding photography, which have helped my wedding photographers increase their bookings from 25-45% to 50-100%.

DOs:

• Make your galleries quick and easy to look at (15 – 25 clicks per gallery)

• Tell a story with multiple weddings –- the start of the day to the end of the day. Example: Bride getting ready, father seeing bride, bride walking down aisle, the I Dos, the kiss, the bridal party portraits, reception vignettes (flowers, table cards), the first dance, the father-daughter dance, people having a blast at the reception, the cake cutting, and finally the cliché end of the night moment (holding hands walking off into the night). Yes, you heard it right, that cliché moment gets a bride every time.

DON’Ts

• Have 10 galleries – each titled: “Joe & Sarah,” “Marc & Beth,” etc. that only show the best photos from each of their weddings

• Show a bride or anyone at a wedding at their worst moment. Some photographers appreciate a photo for its caught-moment approach. I appreciate that too –- but if it’s on your wedding site, a bride will imagine herself in that photo every time. If a bride looks too heavy or someone is causing trouble, she will think the same will happen to her if she hires you. I know this sounds elementary, but every client I work with has at least one photo that MUST be taken out.

GALLERY IDEAS:

• Have one gallery showing the entire day from start to finish, drawn from different weddings

• Have multiple galleries (no more than 3-5) breaking up the categories, such as, Getting Ready, I Do, Group Shots, The Reception, and Bridal Portraits and/or Engagement Photos

Finally, remember you are being hired to help capture that special day (a.k.a. that MAGICAL moment). Everything — including your website, portfolio, and personal presentation — has to convey that you are exactly the right person to do that.