Planning
May04200808:16 AM
Each May in the last two years there's been a rally and
march for immigrants' rights in Yakima. Thousands of
marchers, walking through downtown Yakima, showed up
for those rallies which prompted heavy coverage by the
Herald-Republic. This year, however, was different. The
national conversation about immigrants and immigrants'
rights had died down, superseded by talk of the
economy, gas prices and the presidential election.
Also, there was a different organizer for the march and
there appeared to be very little advance planning for
the march. So, the march itself was a guess by the
editors. How many people would be there? A thousand? A
hundred? Would there be any counter-protesters? What
level of coverage was appropriate given that the
immigration debate had been placed on the back burner?
Should it be page 1? Or should the march coverage be placed on our Homefront section? Initially, it was decided to put the rally coverage on our Homefront section because editors figured there wasn't the same interest as in years past. But on the morning of the afternoon rally, the decision was made to place the coverage on page 1 and to focus the story on the apparent cooling of the immigrant rights debate. Figuring more is better than less, two reporters and three photographers were assigned to coverage. Staff photographer Andy Sawyer shot video (see video) while photographer Kris Holland shot stills. I also shot stills but only for the first few minutes of the march so I could post a photo on www.yakimaherald.com while the march was going on to give up-to-the minute coverage.
As it turned out there were only a few hundred marchers and the protesters were few and stayed several blocks away from the march.
Despite the lack of information for more informed planning I think our our treatment was appropriate given the visibility of the marchers (several streets were blocked off for the parade) and the importance of immigration in our circulation area. Still, it's always better to have as much information as possible when planning event coverage.
Should it be page 1? Or should the march coverage be placed on our Homefront section? Initially, it was decided to put the rally coverage on our Homefront section because editors figured there wasn't the same interest as in years past. But on the morning of the afternoon rally, the decision was made to place the coverage on page 1 and to focus the story on the apparent cooling of the immigrant rights debate. Figuring more is better than less, two reporters and three photographers were assigned to coverage. Staff photographer Andy Sawyer shot video (see video) while photographer Kris Holland shot stills. I also shot stills but only for the first few minutes of the march so I could post a photo on www.yakimaherald.com while the march was going on to give up-to-the minute coverage.
As it turned out there were only a few hundred marchers and the protesters were few and stayed several blocks away from the march.
Despite the lack of information for more informed planning I think our our treatment was appropriate given the visibility of the marchers (several streets were blocked off for the parade) and the importance of immigration in our circulation area. Still, it's always better to have as much information as possible when planning event coverage.
|
That Moment
March17200805:44 PM
I'm cool and collected when a 250-pound linebacker
hurtles towards me on the sidelines. My heart doesn't
pound when faced with roaring flames in front of the
camera. And my palms don't sweat when I'm watching one
of our local athletes win the race or break a personal
record. Not to say that none of these aren't exciting,
but there's not the rush of adrenaline they once held
for me. And I never would have expected that an
assignment to photograph a girl receiving an oversized
check could make me feel what all of these things
don't.
Last week, I was sent to photograph 18-year-old Sharon Reyna, a student at Toppenish's Eagle Alternative School. Sharon had won a $10,000 scholarship for designing a greeting card and was going to find out the big news at an assembly of her fellow students as well as the teachers and mentors who have helped her. Only those teachers, some school administrators, the man with the check, and the members of the media knew. As she walked in the door, I positioned myself to stand near her so I could get a reaction shot when she figured out that the assembly was for her. As I waited, she joked with her peers. I remembered the uncertainty about how I was going to pay for college, and the huge difference an education made in my life and the lives of many young people. I knew that this money would be a life-changing event for Sharon, a door opening. I thought about how I would feel if a new world opened up suddenly before me, if a huge weight were taken off my shoulders, if a road of struggle suddenly became a little easier. I was so excited for Sharon and as she started to figure out what was going on, I switched to auto focus so my shaking hands wouldn't blur the picture, wanting to capture that moment, when hope becomes reality, when the future is, for a moment, bright and wide open.
-- Sara Gettys
Last week, I was sent to photograph 18-year-old Sharon Reyna, a student at Toppenish's Eagle Alternative School. Sharon had won a $10,000 scholarship for designing a greeting card and was going to find out the big news at an assembly of her fellow students as well as the teachers and mentors who have helped her. Only those teachers, some school administrators, the man with the check, and the members of the media knew. As she walked in the door, I positioned myself to stand near her so I could get a reaction shot when she figured out that the assembly was for her. As I waited, she joked with her peers. I remembered the uncertainty about how I was going to pay for college, and the huge difference an education made in my life and the lives of many young people. I knew that this money would be a life-changing event for Sharon, a door opening. I thought about how I would feel if a new world opened up suddenly before me, if a huge weight were taken off my shoulders, if a road of struggle suddenly became a little easier. I was so excited for Sharon and as she started to figure out what was going on, I switched to auto focus so my shaking hands wouldn't blur the picture, wanting to capture that moment, when hope becomes reality, when the future is, for a moment, bright and wide open.
-- Sara Gettys
Looking for - and finding - an answer
March16200808:29 AM
While tailing a black Buick out to a Selah home near
the Yakima Training Center to photograph an organized
backyard fight, I couldn't believe Yakima
Herald-Republic writer Pat Muir and I had been given
access to what appeared to be a semi-seedy, underground
fight community. There was a sense of secrecy around
the location of the fight, the details were shady and I
think both Pat and I felt like we could potentially be
getting ourselves into a situation that could be
difficult to get out of should something go
awry.
However, as more time was spent with fighters "Vengeance" and "Nasty Rob" and the rest of the spotty cast, the more everyone relaxed. By the end of the day, the big question I kept coming back to was "what makes a person want to do this?" There's no money involved, no belt or trophy and seemingly little glory
.
"It's a huge rush" Vengeance said in a recorded interview with Pat. "You could probably compare it to being thrown off a plane... it's exciting, there's no feeling like it." I guess I found my answer.
--Kris Holland
However, as more time was spent with fighters "Vengeance" and "Nasty Rob" and the rest of the spotty cast, the more everyone relaxed. By the end of the day, the big question I kept coming back to was "what makes a person want to do this?" There's no money involved, no belt or trophy and seemingly little glory
.
"It's a huge rush" Vengeance said in a recorded interview with Pat. "You could probably compare it to being thrown off a plane... it's exciting, there's no feeling like it." I guess I found my answer.
--Kris Holland
Light, photo requests and the real world.
March10200809:35 AM
It's simple - without light we couldn't do our jobs.
But there's good light and bad light. Bad light happens
starting in late morning and runs through early
afternoon. Good light happens the rest of the day.
That's why I think picture taking should be banned
between 9 a.m. and 3 p.m. Warm morning and afternoon
and evening light can make a routine photo at least
more interesting and in some cases, dramatic.
Children walking down a dirt road isn't such an exciting photograph (the story was on the poor condition of the road). But shot at 7:30 a.m. the long shadows of the early morning light frame the youngsters and add character and shape to the potholes. The same photo, shot at noon, would be dull as dishwater.
Another example of light transforming the routine into the dramatic is this photo of a horse:
The problem is, news and news photography doesn't always happen between 3 p.m. and 9 a.m. so we often have to deal with harsh lighting (especially here in central Washington where the sun always seem to shine). We don't like it but we deal with it.
--Gordon King
Children walking down a dirt road isn't such an exciting photograph (the story was on the poor condition of the road). But shot at 7:30 a.m. the long shadows of the early morning light frame the youngsters and add character and shape to the potholes. The same photo, shot at noon, would be dull as dishwater.
Another example of light transforming the routine into the dramatic is this photo of a horse:
The problem is, news and news photography doesn't always happen between 3 p.m. and 9 a.m. so we often have to deal with harsh lighting (especially here in central Washington where the sun always seem to shine). We don't like it but we deal with it.
--Gordon King
High-Tech
March03200808:08 PM
Just wanted to share this little high-tech photo tool.
Ring lights are used a lot in high fashion shoots --
they create soft but strongly directional light and
create interesting round catch-lights in the subject's
eyes, rather than the bright pin-prick of a small flash
or even the rectangle of a soft-box. The only problem,
they can can be a little spendy. I found directions to
make one on-line (there are many approaches out there,
just search for DIY ring light). And with about $5
invested (less than $3 for cheap plastic bowls, another
two for silver duct tape), I found a way to make my
own. Simple, cheap, lovely!
-- Sara Gettys
1) cheap plastic bowls
2) silver tape to line the inside of a larger bowl, the outside of a smaller bowl, to reflect the light.
3) The set-up, about half an hour later. Scotch tape used to suspend the smaller bowl inside the bigger one, which has a hole cut out in the back to slip over the strobe. I also used some cardboard to make a little tunnel to slip over the head of the strobe so it would be easier to secure.
4) pretty light!
-- Sara Gettys
1) cheap plastic bowls
2) silver tape to line the inside of a larger bowl, the outside of a smaller bowl, to reflect the light.
3) The set-up, about half an hour later. Scotch tape used to suspend the smaller bowl inside the bigger one, which has a hole cut out in the back to slip over the strobe. I also used some cardboard to make a little tunnel to slip over the head of the strobe so it would be easier to secure.
4) pretty light!
The thrill of victory and agony of defeat
February24200802:21 PM
One high school
state basketball tournament here in Yakima ended last
night (with an OT win by a local team) Another one
begins this coming Wednesday and it doesn't get any
better than this. In the state tournaments teams play
with a passion, intensity and desire you don't find in
the regular season. All that translates into great
action and more importantly, great emotion. This is the
unvarnished emotion of youth and I love it. A couple of
photos from this week's class 1B
tournament.
Two players from Tekoa-Oakesdale High School celebrate their win as the losers from Moses Lake Christian stand mutely on the sidelines of the court. Tekoa-Oakesdale advanced to the championship game where they lost a thriling game by one point in overtime.
On the flip side were the Sunnyside Christian High School girls:
They tearfully walked off the court after losing a close one to Garfield-Palouse in the semifinals, their championship hopes dashed.
Shooting the post-game celebration/dejection isn't easy - you need to put yourself in the right place at the right time to capture the storytelling emotions. And all that figuring and calculating can be for naught if the players don't behave according to your plans. Generally, I try to stand on the baseline at the end of the court where our local team is sitting. Players on the court, whether they are celebrating or crying, generally head toward their bench and teammates at the final whistle. After that initial flood of emotion players from both teams line up and greet the players from the opposing team. After they've moved through that line the players again head for their bench. They're usually still very emotional which gives me another shot at capturing that emotion. And if you're lucky you'll get both the winners and losers into the same frame to give a complete picture of the game's outcome.
I don't always adhere to this strategy - I shot the two celebrating players on floor from a courtside table near the midcourt line as I was transmitting photos back to the newspaper from an earlier game. Still, the baseline strategy is usually a good place to start.
--Gordon King
Two players from Tekoa-Oakesdale High School celebrate their win as the losers from Moses Lake Christian stand mutely on the sidelines of the court. Tekoa-Oakesdale advanced to the championship game where they lost a thriling game by one point in overtime.
On the flip side were the Sunnyside Christian High School girls:
They tearfully walked off the court after losing a close one to Garfield-Palouse in the semifinals, their championship hopes dashed.
Shooting the post-game celebration/dejection isn't easy - you need to put yourself in the right place at the right time to capture the storytelling emotions. And all that figuring and calculating can be for naught if the players don't behave according to your plans. Generally, I try to stand on the baseline at the end of the court where our local team is sitting. Players on the court, whether they are celebrating or crying, generally head toward their bench and teammates at the final whistle. After that initial flood of emotion players from both teams line up and greet the players from the opposing team. After they've moved through that line the players again head for their bench. They're usually still very emotional which gives me another shot at capturing that emotion. And if you're lucky you'll get both the winners and losers into the same frame to give a complete picture of the game's outcome.
I don't always adhere to this strategy - I shot the two celebrating players on floor from a courtside table near the midcourt line as I was transmitting photos back to the newspaper from an earlier game. Still, the baseline strategy is usually a good place to start.
--Gordon King
Here, Now
February06200803:02 PM
As you've
hopefully seen, one of my projects for this year is a
photo column. For me, it's a huge opportunity and
challenge. This is my first column. After several years
of admiring the work done by photojournalist columnists
around the country, I decided to give it a try. In
developing my idea for the column, I was struck by two
ideas. The first was that whenever I tell my physically
distant friends and family that I live in Washington
state, I always get the same reaction. “Wow, I bet it's
wet there.” Their only concept of Washington is of
western Washington: lush, green, and urban. I wanted to
begin to describe the Washington I live in, its quirks,
its character, its landscape and people. To try to
describe, in pictures, my community – sageland and
hops, rather than orcas and Microsoft.
My second thought was that I should start this exploration soon. I've lived here now for just over two years. Things that used to surprise me are slowly becoming comfortable and mundane. Places that are new, surprising and interesting slowly become so much a part of my everyday experience that I hardly notice them any more. I want to continue to look at my home with the eyes of a newcomer, to be fascinated at the commonplace.
So over the next 12 months you'll be seeing the Yakima Valley through my eyes. The column will appear in the "Life in the Northwest" section monthly in print, and will also soon have it's own home on the photo department's website, which I hope to update more often. Some entries will be a single photo, others will have video or slideshows. Each entry will explore the link between place, THIS place, and the people who live here. In the next 11 months, I want to paint a portrait of the Yakima Valley. In picking situations to photograph, I am sketching out the shape of her. In editing my photos and videos I am choosing the nuance of line, here ragged as the ice along the river's edge, here soft as cherry blossoms falling to the ground. And in the faces and stories of the individuals I will meet, I hope to discover the colors of life here: the earthy brown of everyday struggles, the brilliant glitter of a child's sudden laugh. It will be my portrait, painted with my experience.
I also welcome any suggestions for people and stories to photograph as part of this column. Please leave a comment below or email me with contact information at sgettys@yakimaherald.com.
--Sara Gettys
My second thought was that I should start this exploration soon. I've lived here now for just over two years. Things that used to surprise me are slowly becoming comfortable and mundane. Places that are new, surprising and interesting slowly become so much a part of my everyday experience that I hardly notice them any more. I want to continue to look at my home with the eyes of a newcomer, to be fascinated at the commonplace.
So over the next 12 months you'll be seeing the Yakima Valley through my eyes. The column will appear in the "Life in the Northwest" section monthly in print, and will also soon have it's own home on the photo department's website, which I hope to update more often. Some entries will be a single photo, others will have video or slideshows. Each entry will explore the link between place, THIS place, and the people who live here. In the next 11 months, I want to paint a portrait of the Yakima Valley. In picking situations to photograph, I am sketching out the shape of her. In editing my photos and videos I am choosing the nuance of line, here ragged as the ice along the river's edge, here soft as cherry blossoms falling to the ground. And in the faces and stories of the individuals I will meet, I hope to discover the colors of life here: the earthy brown of everyday struggles, the brilliant glitter of a child's sudden laugh. It will be my portrait, painted with my experience.
I also welcome any suggestions for people and stories to photograph as part of this column. Please leave a comment below or email me with contact information at sgettys@yakimaherald.com.
--Sara Gettys
Footprints in the snow
February05200803:37 PM
Long ago I saw photo by photographer William Davis that
has stuck with me ever since. It's in the book, "If
Mountains Die: A New Mexico Memoir," by John Nichols
and Davis. It's a simple photograph of a magpie's
imprint in the snow. For me, it's something that's
difficult to wrap words around. With the imprint, the
magpie gives itself away, marks its existence for the
moment; but that bird's legacy is only a fading memory
at its discovery. In a matter of days, hours, minutes,
that frozen moment will be gone. But the photograph
captures it, keeps the moment for us to see, and in
doing so allows us to see more than that moment: we can
see the time before it was there, the moment it
happened and the time after it was gone. So I always
look for footprints in the snow. I do my best to
appreciate every one. These were in my back yard.
--Andy Sawyer
--Andy Sawyer
The future has arrived (pt. 2)
December17200708:16 PM
When the
newspaper's video equipment arrived two months ago I
was anxious and excited about the prospect of shooting
video (see "the future has arrived" post). Now, I'm
just excited. Over the weekend the Herald-Republic
hosted the Northwest Video Workshop. Spearheaded by
YH-R web producer T.J. Mullinax, the two-day workshop
brought together newspaper photographers, reporters and
web folks to learn the basics of shooting and editing
video. We were taught by two of the best videographers
in photojournalism - Colin Mulvany of the Spokane
Spokesman Review and Kurt Austin of Portland's KGW-TV
television.
Their energy and enthusiasm helped me get over any reservations I might have had about picking up a video camera in addition to my still cameras.
During the workshop We shot and edited a very basic project (thanks to the young ladies carolling in front of Wray's Thriftway at the Chalet Mall - they were the subjects of my team's video) which will be posted on the workshop Web site (video.yakimablogs.com/) in the future. The video cameras are the new tools of storytelling and now we have the knowledge of how to use those tools. Or at least the basic knowledge such as which button turns on the camera and how to move video and sound clips around in the Final Cut Pro editing software.
I'm looking forward to when I can shoot and edit a video package for yakimaherald.com. It will be probably be a while, though, before I can get something up on the Web site - I still have to help put out a newspaper each day with local photographs which itself is a full-time job. It's going to be fun, frustrating and challenging to learn this new way of telling a story. The learning curve is steep and I'm sure my first efforts are going to be rough but I'm asking for the viewers' patience.
A couple of photos from the workshop:
Central Washington University student Maggie Schmidt photographs the singers at Wray's Thriftway.
Yakima Herald-Republic reporter James Joyce, left, gets editing help from workshop trainer Kurt Austin.
---Gordon King
Their energy and enthusiasm helped me get over any reservations I might have had about picking up a video camera in addition to my still cameras.
During the workshop We shot and edited a very basic project (thanks to the young ladies carolling in front of Wray's Thriftway at the Chalet Mall - they were the subjects of my team's video) which will be posted on the workshop Web site (video.yakimablogs.com/) in the future. The video cameras are the new tools of storytelling and now we have the knowledge of how to use those tools. Or at least the basic knowledge such as which button turns on the camera and how to move video and sound clips around in the Final Cut Pro editing software.
I'm looking forward to when I can shoot and edit a video package for yakimaherald.com. It will be probably be a while, though, before I can get something up on the Web site - I still have to help put out a newspaper each day with local photographs which itself is a full-time job. It's going to be fun, frustrating and challenging to learn this new way of telling a story. The learning curve is steep and I'm sure my first efforts are going to be rough but I'm asking for the viewers' patience.
A couple of photos from the workshop:
Central Washington University student Maggie Schmidt photographs the singers at Wray's Thriftway.
Yakima Herald-Republic reporter James Joyce, left, gets editing help from workshop trainer Kurt Austin.
---Gordon King
Thanks for the memory
December11200708:43 AM
I'm a fan of the TV series, "Northern Exposure,"
partially because I was living some parts of that life
while the show aired in the 90s. A recent Google search
on "Northern Exposure" brought up an Alaskan
photographer's work .... a self-described amateur, but
a photographer with some great images, for sure.
Anyway, the page also had some photos of the
Superstition Mountains in Arizona ... mountains that
used to be in my "back yard" so to speak. So I did a
search of some of my old photos and -- among others --
this one stood out. I remember it well ... these
leathery prospectors gathered around a campfire,
roasting a pork loin and drinking ... what else ...
whiskey.
I was there to photograph the unlikely gathering of loners in the foothills of the Superstition Mountains while they swapped lies and told stories from their frequent travels into the mountains and quests for gold. It's a nice memory, them around the campfire, the smell of dinner cooking and the bottle being passed around. And all that because I was thinking about asking for the Northern Exposure series on DVD for Christmas. I think photo and memory this were a gift enough.
Also, some technical info: I shot this during a time when I lit almost every photo. This was shot on film -- probably Fuji 800. I used two strobes, one blasted over the background to make the dark figures stand out, then a second light on their backs to give them an edge in the shadows.
--Andy Sawyer
I was there to photograph the unlikely gathering of loners in the foothills of the Superstition Mountains while they swapped lies and told stories from their frequent travels into the mountains and quests for gold. It's a nice memory, them around the campfire, the smell of dinner cooking and the bottle being passed around. And all that because I was thinking about asking for the Northern Exposure series on DVD for Christmas. I think photo and memory this were a gift enough.
Also, some technical info: I shot this during a time when I lit almost every photo. This was shot on film -- probably Fuji 800. I used two strobes, one blasted over the background to make the dark figures stand out, then a second light on their backs to give them an edge in the shadows.
--Andy Sawyer
It's a tie
December06200701:51 PM
When others make the rules
November29200711:37 AM
When
you’re playing someone else’s game you’ve got to play
by their rules. Even if you don’t like those rules.
The assignment was to photograph a team of Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents arresting people who had violated the conditions of their residency. However, before I could accompany those police, I had to agree in writing to several conditions. First, I couldn’t show the faces of the police. Second, I couldn’t show the faces of the persons arrested unless I obtained written permission from those people. Third, I had to stay “a reasonable distance” back while photographing the agents and last, I had to obey all commands of the officers. I had to agree with all four rules before I was permitted to ride along.
I don’t have any problems with rules 1, 3 and 4. It was rule no. 2 – not showing the arrested person’s face – that I like least because from a strictly legal point of view, it’s illegal and I had to sign away that right to get any photographs. Generally speaking, the law says that whenever a person is in plain view (that is, in public) anybody can photograph that person and publish that photo. But in order to get photos of the operation, I had to sign away that right and abide by ICE’s “no faces” rule to be able to ride along with the officers. I could have refused to sign the ICE document and then ICE would have not allowed me to ride along and I wouldn't have gotten any photos. And that would not have made the other editors happy. So it was a choice of faceless, headless photos or no photos at all.
By not showing the arrested person’s face I couldn’t show that person’s emotions, emotions which might have told the story better than any other photos. In fact, one of the people arrested began to cry which said as much for his situation than any other photo I took of that person.
But I was playing ICE's game and I had to follow their rules, like it or not.
So I ended up with a bunch of headless, from-the-back, awkwardly cropped photos. Not great photojournalism but the photos do give readers a tiny glimpse into the ICE operation.
Here’s a sample. These photos appeared in the print version of the Herald-Republic and on our Web site.
An ICE agent places an arrested man in a holding cell
ICE agents gather for a briefing before the morning's operation
A man just arrested for violating the terms of his
legal residency is led from his home.
A man arrested for violating the terms of his residency is handcuffed
at the ICE Yakima office before he's put on a van and taken to a detention
center in Tacoma.
Another person headed to the Tacoma detention center waits
to be put on the transport van. Other handcuffs lie on the floor
awaiting use.
--Gordon King
The assignment was to photograph a team of Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents arresting people who had violated the conditions of their residency. However, before I could accompany those police, I had to agree in writing to several conditions. First, I couldn’t show the faces of the police. Second, I couldn’t show the faces of the persons arrested unless I obtained written permission from those people. Third, I had to stay “a reasonable distance” back while photographing the agents and last, I had to obey all commands of the officers. I had to agree with all four rules before I was permitted to ride along.
I don’t have any problems with rules 1, 3 and 4. It was rule no. 2 – not showing the arrested person’s face – that I like least because from a strictly legal point of view, it’s illegal and I had to sign away that right to get any photographs. Generally speaking, the law says that whenever a person is in plain view (that is, in public) anybody can photograph that person and publish that photo. But in order to get photos of the operation, I had to sign away that right and abide by ICE’s “no faces” rule to be able to ride along with the officers. I could have refused to sign the ICE document and then ICE would have not allowed me to ride along and I wouldn't have gotten any photos. And that would not have made the other editors happy. So it was a choice of faceless, headless photos or no photos at all.
By not showing the arrested person’s face I couldn’t show that person’s emotions, emotions which might have told the story better than any other photos. In fact, one of the people arrested began to cry which said as much for his situation than any other photo I took of that person.
But I was playing ICE's game and I had to follow their rules, like it or not.
So I ended up with a bunch of headless, from-the-back, awkwardly cropped photos. Not great photojournalism but the photos do give readers a tiny glimpse into the ICE operation.
Here’s a sample. These photos appeared in the print version of the Herald-Republic and on our Web site.
An ICE agent places an arrested man in a holding cell
ICE agents gather for a briefing before the morning's operation
A man just arrested for violating the terms of his
legal residency is led from his home.
A man arrested for violating the terms of his residency is handcuffed
at the ICE Yakima office before he's put on a van and taken to a detention
center in Tacoma.
Another person headed to the Tacoma detention center waits
to be put on the transport van. Other handcuffs lie on the floor
awaiting use.
--Gordon King
Food for the soul
November22200702:03 PM
Here in the photo department, we give thanks for daily
inspiration, provided by a few Web sites and blogs.
Some are funny, some are informative, and some are just
wacky. These are places we visit often. Enjoy!
The Turkey (Multimedia / video / audio):
http://www.multimediashooter.com/ (a blog of multimedia projects, showcasing some of the best multimedia journalism going on right now)
http://www.mediastorm.org (a smorgasbord of multimedia pieces)
The Stuffing (our favorite part of the meal! Daily Inspiration):
http://www.aphotoaday.org/ (inspiring!)
http://www.sportsshooter.com/ (not just sports, a gathering place for photojournalists, with new portfolios and projects posted daily)
Gravy (Heights we aspire to):
http://www.auroraphotos.com/ (a photo agency with some interesting projects)
http://www.magnumphotos.com (documentary journalism, covering global and social issues)
http://www.viiphoto.com (same as above, sort of)
http://www.poyi.org and www.cpoy.org (Pictures of the Year International and College Photographer of the Year contests, a lot of great pictures and stories and archives of past years' winners)
http://www.bop.nppa.org/2008/ (another international contest, lots of great work)
Cranberry Sauce (Weird! Fun!)
http://www.interact10ways.com/usa/index.asp (interesting to play around on, my favs are "light" and "information")
http://www.facesinplaces.blogspot.com/ (faces!)
http://www.wefeelfine.org/ (how are you feeling?)
Dessert (to fill in any leftover spaces):
http://www./blog.robfinchphoto.com/ (a photographer at The Oregonian, great blog)
http://www.strobist.blogspot.com (a technical lighting blog)
http://www.thislife.org (love these stories)
http://www.npr.org (self-explanatory)
--Kris Holland and Sara Gettys
The Turkey (Multimedia / video / audio):
http://www.multimediashooter.com/ (a blog of multimedia projects, showcasing some of the best multimedia journalism going on right now)
http://www.mediastorm.org (a smorgasbord of multimedia pieces)
The Stuffing (our favorite part of the meal! Daily Inspiration):
http://www.aphotoaday.org/ (inspiring!)
http://www.sportsshooter.com/ (not just sports, a gathering place for photojournalists, with new portfolios and projects posted daily)
Gravy (Heights we aspire to):
http://www.auroraphotos.com/ (a photo agency with some interesting projects)
http://www.magnumphotos.com (documentary journalism, covering global and social issues)
http://www.viiphoto.com (same as above, sort of)
http://www.poyi.org and www.cpoy.org (Pictures of the Year International and College Photographer of the Year contests, a lot of great pictures and stories and archives of past years' winners)
http://www.bop.nppa.org/2008/ (another international contest, lots of great work)
Cranberry Sauce (Weird! Fun!)
http://www.interact10ways.com/usa/index.asp (interesting to play around on, my favs are "light" and "information")
http://www.facesinplaces.blogspot.com/ (faces!)
http://www.wefeelfine.org/ (how are you feeling?)
Dessert (to fill in any leftover spaces):
http://www./blog.robfinchphoto.com/ (a photographer at The Oregonian, great blog)
http://www.strobist.blogspot.com (a technical lighting blog)
http://www.thislife.org (love these stories)
http://www.npr.org (self-explanatory)
--Kris Holland and Sara Gettys
Something from nothing
November11200711:25 AM
Theoretically,
press conferences should be easy to shoot. After all,
your subject(s) have been brought to you and they're
not going anywhere until you're done. The lighting is
usually pretty good (thanks, TV folks). The press
conferences usually don't take very long.
But really, I think press conferences are hard to shoot. Press conferences, by their very manufactured and organized nature, suck the life and any possible emotional moments out of most photographic opportunities (but not always-see the blog entry "Thank you Craig family" below). And that's what we, as photojournalists, are looking for - photos that have life and emotion. Photos that will connect with the reader, photos that have content and meaning.
So when I've got to shoot a press conference my first rule is "go early and stay late." There may be some spontaneous moments with the subjects before and after the press conference and my best photos often come from those times. Failing that, I have to really get creative during the press conference to make any decent pictures. If the organizers have done their jobs properly, they've provided some sort of background or props (such as charts) I can include in the photo to add meaning to any photos. Sometimes there's interesting light I can use spice up the photos. My goal is to always make photos which convey information to the reader but it's a challenge to make something from nothing. And sometimes we're given nothing at a press conference.
A recent press conference with noted author Salman Rushdie is an example of having little to work with for good photos. The press conference took place in a basement room of the Capitol Theatre in Yakima. A small, square table with a small sign for the Town Hall lecture series (the event at which he would soon speak) sat on the table. That's it. Rushdie came into the room and immediately sat down. So much for my "going early" theory. I shoot a few tight head shots as insurance and then move on to trying to make a more creative photo. There's only the video cameras of the TV stations to work with and by including those I could, at least, show the reader that Rushdie was speaking at a press conference. Some of my photographic efforts (all pretty cliché):
Rushdie framed in the tripod legs of a camera.
Rushdie through the viewfinder of a TV camera.
Tight head shot of Rushdie.
Looser, head and shoulders shot with the sign on the table.
An overall of the press conference scene.
We ended up using the tight head-and-shoulders shot in the newspaper. The others are graphically interesting but don't impart much more information than the tight shot. Plus, that tight shot worked best with the page layout for that day.
But really, I think press conferences are hard to shoot. Press conferences, by their very manufactured and organized nature, suck the life and any possible emotional moments out of most photographic opportunities (but not always-see the blog entry "Thank you Craig family" below). And that's what we, as photojournalists, are looking for - photos that have life and emotion. Photos that will connect with the reader, photos that have content and meaning.
So when I've got to shoot a press conference my first rule is "go early and stay late." There may be some spontaneous moments with the subjects before and after the press conference and my best photos often come from those times. Failing that, I have to really get creative during the press conference to make any decent pictures. If the organizers have done their jobs properly, they've provided some sort of background or props (such as charts) I can include in the photo to add meaning to any photos. Sometimes there's interesting light I can use spice up the photos. My goal is to always make photos which convey information to the reader but it's a challenge to make something from nothing. And sometimes we're given nothing at a press conference.
A recent press conference with noted author Salman Rushdie is an example of having little to work with for good photos. The press conference took place in a basement room of the Capitol Theatre in Yakima. A small, square table with a small sign for the Town Hall lecture series (the event at which he would soon speak) sat on the table. That's it. Rushdie came into the room and immediately sat down. So much for my "going early" theory. I shoot a few tight head shots as insurance and then move on to trying to make a more creative photo. There's only the video cameras of the TV stations to work with and by including those I could, at least, show the reader that Rushdie was speaking at a press conference. Some of my photographic efforts (all pretty cliché):
Rushdie framed in the tripod legs of a camera.
Rushdie through the viewfinder of a TV camera.
Tight head shot of Rushdie.
Looser, head and shoulders shot with the sign on the table.
An overall of the press conference scene.
We ended up using the tight head-and-shoulders shot in the newspaper. The others are graphically interesting but don't impart much more information than the tight shot. Plus, that tight shot worked best with the page layout for that day.
And they're off
November09200707:59 PM
In a way,
photographing election night is like shooting a
sporting event except the players aren't wearing
numbers and the playing field is a tightly packed room
which gets warmer and warmer as candidates, supporters,
and members of the media sweat out the last few minutes
before the results are announced, literally. Like a
football game, we photographers went into it knowing
who our key players would be - I was assigned to cover
Kathy Coffey and Susan Whitman, as well as look for
other telling moments in the pandemonium.
Much like a sporting event, the center of the visual story is the elation of victory and the sad sag of defeat. The strategy, the plays, the cheering and the action has already happened. At the end, all of us are together in a small room, waiting for the scoreboard to light up. And when the numbers appear, it's the reaction of the players that matters, joy or disappointment. It's the way each player handles victory or defeat.
Leaning close to Susan Whitman after she read that she had only gotten roughly half the votes of her opponent she smiled softly, telling me that yes, she was disappointed, but that her faith helped her not put her entire self into the results, but to look at the defeat in the context of the many other important parts of her life. Her husband Rob put a hand on her back and she said they'd planned to enjoy relaxing together after hearing the results, whatever they might be.
A moment later, a loud whoop soared across the packed room. "Guess what, mom -- I won!" Summer Derrey's face lit up. Earlier, I'd watched as she'd done the meet and greet with the local political community. Poised and cheerful, only her nervous gesture of picking her fingernails gave away the tension that was finally released as she grinned into the cell phone, letting her mother, then her boyfriend cheer with her about her victory.
Being a good sport, in the political field, as well as on the playing field, seems something that both teams, for the most part, value. After the game, the softball team will head down the line, smacking hands and murmuring "good game." The gesture may be heartfelt, or not. As the results sunk in, opponents in local races met briefly to shake hands before leaving to celebrate, to relax, to plan for the future, whatever it might be. We make the pictures, the closing in what has been a long story, many innings. We try to show the way the players hold themselves, what their faces, stony or smiling, reveal about the game and players alike.
-- Sara Gettys
Much like a sporting event, the center of the visual story is the elation of victory and the sad sag of defeat. The strategy, the plays, the cheering and the action has already happened. At the end, all of us are together in a small room, waiting for the scoreboard to light up. And when the numbers appear, it's the reaction of the players that matters, joy or disappointment. It's the way each player handles victory or defeat.
Leaning close to Susan Whitman after she read that she had only gotten roughly half the votes of her opponent she smiled softly, telling me that yes, she was disappointed, but that her faith helped her not put her entire self into the results, but to look at the defeat in the context of the many other important parts of her life. Her husband Rob put a hand on her back and she said they'd planned to enjoy relaxing together after hearing the results, whatever they might be.
A moment later, a loud whoop soared across the packed room. "Guess what, mom -- I won!" Summer Derrey's face lit up. Earlier, I'd watched as she'd done the meet and greet with the local political community. Poised and cheerful, only her nervous gesture of picking her fingernails gave away the tension that was finally released as she grinned into the cell phone, letting her mother, then her boyfriend cheer with her about her victory.
Being a good sport, in the political field, as well as on the playing field, seems something that both teams, for the most part, value. After the game, the softball team will head down the line, smacking hands and murmuring "good game." The gesture may be heartfelt, or not. As the results sunk in, opponents in local races met briefly to shake hands before leaving to celebrate, to relax, to plan for the future, whatever it might be. We make the pictures, the closing in what has been a long story, many innings. We try to show the way the players hold themselves, what their faces, stony or smiling, reveal about the game and players alike.
-- Sara Gettys
My favorite subject
October31200712:55 PM
A lot of people ask me what my favorite subject is to
photograph. Through my years as a photographer, this
answer has changed: nature, sports, social documentary.
Today, I've decided to come clean. I'm one of those
guys who always talks about his children ... well,
child, in this case (at least until early July!!). This
is Lucy, my daughter, who is 20 months old.
Only 20 months, yet, I can't even remember a time when she wasn't in my life. She looks a lot like her Mom, thankfully, and also has a lot of her Mom's personality, thankfully. Eating apples off the ground she gets from me ... OK, that apple she's eating didn't really come from off the ground. She does have my blue eyes. I can't tell you how many photos we have of her, and yet, it never seems to be enough. She's hands-down my favorite subject. I know that's not what a lot of photographers would think of as provocative, sexy, daring, adventurous, cutting edge or what have you, but that's where I am in life, and I'm happier than I've ever been. I honestly believe that all the other work I do as a photographer has become better as a result.
--Andy Sawyer
Only 20 months, yet, I can't even remember a time when she wasn't in my life. She looks a lot like her Mom, thankfully, and also has a lot of her Mom's personality, thankfully. Eating apples off the ground she gets from me ... OK, that apple she's eating didn't really come from off the ground. She does have my blue eyes. I can't tell you how many photos we have of her, and yet, it never seems to be enough. She's hands-down my favorite subject. I know that's not what a lot of photographers would think of as provocative, sexy, daring, adventurous, cutting edge or what have you, but that's where I am in life, and I'm happier than I've ever been. I honestly believe that all the other work I do as a photographer has become better as a result.
--Andy Sawyer
Is this the one?
October28200707:28 AM
I've just
ordered another brand of camera strap, the latest in my
long search for the perfect camera strap. I may not
have tried them all but I've tried a bunch over the
years as I look for just the right strap. Camera straps
are very much an individual thing. For some, the strap
doesn't make any difference - it could be a piece of
rope so long as it works. For others (like me) it's got
to be just right. Being "just right" means it has to
comfortably carry the camera and distribute the weight
when I carry it around my neck. The strap has to be
kind of "grippy" so it won't slide off my shoulder and
yet it can't be too "grippy" when I want to slide it
off my shoulder or adjust the position of the camera
around my neck. I don't like it too wide or too narrow.
It needs to be a dark color - lighter colors call
attention to the strap. I like my straps plain - no
company or camera logos. No sense giving a
multi-billion dollar camera company a free ad on my
camera strap.
I'm now using a one-inch-wide black Domke strap on one camera and a very well-worn stock Canon strap on the other. It's this Canon strap I'm replacing. Besides being worn out, it's got a big Canon logo on the strap (see above) so it needs replacing. Over the years the Domke straps have been my favorite but I have always been willing to try another type in my never-ending quest for the perfect strap. My main complaint about the Domke straps is the grippy stuff seems to wear out pretty quickly so they start to slide around.
The new strap is from Think Tank Photo and it looks a lot like the Domke strap. Hopefully it will last longer, especially since the strap cost the company $25.
--Gordon King
I'm now using a one-inch-wide black Domke strap on one camera and a very well-worn stock Canon strap on the other. It's this Canon strap I'm replacing. Besides being worn out, it's got a big Canon logo on the strap (see above) so it needs replacing. Over the years the Domke straps have been my favorite but I have always been willing to try another type in my never-ending quest for the perfect strap. My main complaint about the Domke straps is the grippy stuff seems to wear out pretty quickly so they start to slide around.
The new strap is from Think Tank Photo and it looks a lot like the Domke strap. Hopefully it will last longer, especially since the strap cost the company $25.
--Gordon King
A shot in the dark
October19200705:06 PM
The photo
request seemed simple enough. I was to shoot a local
diver competing in a meet at the local indoor swimming
pool used by high schools. Still, I knew the assignment
would be a challenge. I'd photographed swimmers there
in the past and through that experience I knew the pool
was dark making the use of a flash mandatory. Flash
photography is prohibited during diving events but I'd
I figured my fancy Canon Mark IIN shooting in the RAW
mode could deal with the darkness. After all, I had
shot night football at Cle Elum High School without a
flash. The diving part of the pool (Lions Pool for all
those familiar with Yakima) isn't just dark. It's Dark
with a capital "D." The best exposure I could get was
1/125th of a second at 3200 ASA. Any movement by the
diver resulted in a blurry image. Action shots were
impossible. I shot a few frames of the diver on the
board as she prepared to make her dive and was
relatively still. The photo quality was acceptable but
the photo was boring.
But I still had to get a photo of this diver. Plan A (action) didn't work so I had to shift to plan P. As in portrait. I'm not a big fan of portraiture, especially when there is an opportunity for action or documentary photography. But sometimes a portrait is the only avenue available. And when they're well done, a portrait can be very revealing. So then my challenge became creating an engaging and telling portrait of this diver. Diving is an incredibly intense sport and divers, like all athletic contestants, must remain cool and collected to execute a dive. This diver is the best in our area so it's obvious she could keep her cool under the pressure of a diving competition. So, I wanted to try and convey that coolness through the use of light and the pose of the diver. A blue-colored flash, underexposed background and an incredibly cooperative (and fun) diver yielded this portrait after a half-hour of shooting.
Still hoping for an action photo I left my strobes in place to shoot her diving during practice (when flashes are okay). Still, I wasn't able to get a good action photo for a variety of reasons - her mouth was wide open, her legs or arms obscured her face, etc. I was frustrated at not being able to get a good action photo but knowing I had a good portrait in the bank made me feel better about the assignment.
I combined the portrait with a couple of non-action photos shot during the meet to round out the package.
The swim and diving coaches really wanted me to get an action shot of the diver but didn't seem to understand it wasn't technically possible. Sometimes a portrait is the only way to photograph a person. Especially when the alternative is a shot in the dark.
--Gordon King
But I still had to get a photo of this diver. Plan A (action) didn't work so I had to shift to plan P. As in portrait. I'm not a big fan of portraiture, especially when there is an opportunity for action or documentary photography. But sometimes a portrait is the only avenue available. And when they're well done, a portrait can be very revealing. So then my challenge became creating an engaging and telling portrait of this diver. Diving is an incredibly intense sport and divers, like all athletic contestants, must remain cool and collected to execute a dive. This diver is the best in our area so it's obvious she could keep her cool under the pressure of a diving competition. So, I wanted to try and convey that coolness through the use of light and the pose of the diver. A blue-colored flash, underexposed background and an incredibly cooperative (and fun) diver yielded this portrait after a half-hour of shooting.
Still hoping for an action photo I left my strobes in place to shoot her diving during practice (when flashes are okay). Still, I wasn't able to get a good action photo for a variety of reasons - her mouth was wide open, her legs or arms obscured her face, etc. I was frustrated at not being able to get a good action photo but knowing I had a good portrait in the bank made me feel better about the assignment.
I combined the portrait with a couple of non-action photos shot during the meet to round out the package.
The swim and diving coaches really wanted me to get an action shot of the diver but didn't seem to understand it wasn't technically possible. Sometimes a portrait is the only way to photograph a person. Especially when the alternative is a shot in the dark.
--Gordon King
Thank you Craig family
October10200703:41 PM
One of the hardest things to photograph, for me, is the grief of those who have so recently, and often unexpectedly, lost one of their family members. On Monday night, seven of the 10 people who were aboard a small Cessna plane were found dead at the site of the wreckage. Tuesday morning, family members, friends, rescue workers, and the Yakima County Sheriff's office held a press conference at the command center. Television crews and reporters from around the region crowded together while rescuers, family members, and supporters stood across from them, a stand of microphones in the center of the circle.
After various agencies told about the facts of the rescue , members of the Craig family stepped forward to talk about their son and brother, Casey, who was one of the skydivers who was killed in the crash. Casey's brother, Kelly, stepped up to the microphone to talk about how his brother died doing what he loved. His sister, Ivy, joined him. Later, Ivy would show me a family photo taken two weeks ago as the three siblings jumped together, wide grins as they hold onto each other in the air. Ivy says her brother was a funny man, and despite a morning of tears, laughs at the memory of his antics. His mother holds up a photo to the television cameras of her three children and behind them, Casey's friends and the family of the skydiving community hug each other and wipe tears away.
The stereotype of the journalist as heartless "vulture" is one of the things that almost kept me from becoming a journalist. Capitalizing on other people's pain and grief is, I think, an immoral act. However, as I photographed the Craig family, and in the past as I have photographed people in their grief, I believe that the act of witnessing can be a way to help: to help families remember, to help communities understand and connect, to memorialize those lost in tragic events. I don't believe that grieving or loss must remain hidden, and that not showing it is the only way to deal with emotions we have all felt.
Casey's family wants him to be remembered for the vibrant, wild, and funny man they knew, not just a victim of a tragic accident. As they stepped up to the microphones and later talked to reporters in small groups, they talked about what kind of person he was, and gave us a glimpse, through them, of the hole his absence will leave. As they grieve, their community, our community grieves with them. Photographs let us know that we don't grieve alone. Photographs remind us that the price of disasters can't be told in maps or charts, but is only apparent in those left behind.
Living their grief in front of a mass of journalists and sharing their memories of Casey, was a gift -- to Casey and to our communities. It took bravery and stamina on what has likely been one of the worst times of the Craig family's lives. Thank you.
--Sara Gettys
Separating families
October09200709:34 PM
I guess what
struck me the most about this assignment was that it
took me away from my family for three nights, but some
of my subjects wouldn't see their families for months
on end. Three days was hard enough for me ... I can't
imagine what it must be like for those who come here to
work and leave their families behind. I'm not sure I
could do that, but then, I'm not faced with same
circumstances they are.
All in all, it was a great assignment. It was a challenge for sure, since the photo opportunities were limited, and editing was even tougher because the story became one that is both impressionistic and literal, and cutting photos out was easy to a point, but then the story line took over, and I found myself keeping photos that I normally would have thrown out early. I think we ran more photos than a story like this would usually require, but given the linear element, I really believe what we ran was what it took to give readers the full story of the bus ride. I mean, it's a long ride, and my knees ached by the middle and onto the end ... I need to try to convey that ache, too, even if it's just that a reader is sick of looking at my pictures.
--Andy Sawyer
All in all, it was a great assignment. It was a challenge for sure, since the photo opportunities were limited, and editing was even tougher because the story became one that is both impressionistic and literal, and cutting photos out was easy to a point, but then the story line took over, and I found myself keeping photos that I normally would have thrown out early. I think we ran more photos than a story like this would usually require, but given the linear element, I really believe what we ran was what it took to give readers the full story of the bus ride. I mean, it's a long ride, and my knees ached by the middle and onto the end ... I need to try to convey that ache, too, even if it's just that a reader is sick of looking at my pictures.
--Andy Sawyer
I Heart Holga
October05200709:00 PM
Holga is the small, cheap, plastic camera I used to shoot my photo page of this year's Central Washington State Fair. She is completely unlike the hefty workhorses we carry for daily work. To start with, she's a toy. Weighing practically nothing, she doesn't even come weighted with the need for advanced photographic knowledge. To make a picture you punch down the shutter button then wind the film by hand. Her back is taped on so that halfway through the roll it doesn't fall off and ruin the entire take. She has no batteries, no light meter, no motor drive. Her shutter speed is set, and approximate. Her lens focuses by moving it back and forth between a picture of one person (close-up) and mountains (far away).
While most of my daily work involves juggling a photograph's content with the technical decisions about lighting, depth-of-field, and speed, the Holga gives me little choice and, paradoxically, ultimate freedom. What I get is what I get. It will likely be technically “flawed,” in exposure or focus. But in return, I get to shed everything from my thoughts except looking for the right subject, the right light, the right moment.
I love the fair, its's so different from anything else. I love walking through the barns and looking at the cows and checking out the largest local zucchini. Although I don't ride many rides, I like to stroll through the midway, watching kids swirl in the swinging chairs or bump into their reflections in the fun house, laughing all the while. Like most folks, I find the smell of a funnel cake, an elephant ear, or the sight of a hand-dipped chocolate ice cream bar irresistible. For me, the fair is an escape, a short trip to another world where it isn't surprising to see Elvis riding a unicycle and juggling for a small group of enthralled viewers, some younger than five, some older than eighty. It's somewhere we can all go, and seems to have a little something for everyone.
The Holga, with all of its flaws, conveys this sense of the otherworldly. The unpredictable images it captures is as unpredictable as the little surprises that make the fair, especially for the young, so exciting.
Lastly, like the fair, working with the Holga seems to ground me in a long tradition. I can imagine people a hundred years ago walking through livestock barns and playing games. And while digital cameras have become my main tool as a photographer, as I pull the film off the developing reel, still wet and smelling of fixer, and hold it up to my kitchen window, I still feel the magic as the ghostly, reversed scenes appear in the film's fine grain.
-- Sara Gettys
The future has arrived
September30200706:06 AM
The future
arrived via UPS in two large cardboard boxes at the
newspaper last week. Both had overnight shipping
stickers affixed to their slightly battered exteriors.
Inside were two Canon 
video cameras and
related accessories.
Their arrival marked the start of a new era in photography at the Yakima Herald-Republic, an era in which photographers and reporters will be shooting video as well as our usual still digital photographs. The video will be posted on this website as well as the newspaper's main website, www.yakimaherald.com. The inclusion of video into the visual mix will be one more way of bringing more information to the reader and making our Web sites the place to go for both written and visual information.
Those two boxes included more than just video gear - they included both an opportunity and no small amount of angst. I, along with the rest of the photographers and reporters at the Herald-Republic, will now have another way to tell stories. We can use the power of those moving pictures to bring the stories of people, places and events to our readers. Truth be told, there are some stories which can be told better with video than still images. Now, with video cameras, we have the opportunity to tell the story in the best fashion possible. I'm very excited about that.
I'm pretty sure that Roberts Imaging (the place we bought the cameras) didn't mean to, but they included anxiety in those boxes along with the cameras. We now have to learn a whole new set of skills to take advantage of the power of video. Shooting video includes many of the same techniques we've learned as still photojournalists so that part shouldn't be so hard. But editing video is something most of us have never done and it's going to take some serious study and work to get it right (and that's where the anxiety comes in). I'm going to make some mistakes and shoot some bad video but in time I'll learn how to do it and do it right.
Video has been coming our way for the last couple of years. As its arrival neared over the last couple of months I've been doing some hard thinking about my job as a photojournalist and how I view myself in that job. I'll admit it -- I've been a journalist longer than some of our reporters have been alive. My first professional camera was a beat-up Nikon F2 with a motordrive that used AA batteries. And I shot film -- all black and white Tri-X. With that camera and a Domke bag full of fixed focal-length lenses (all manual focus -- there was no autofocus in those days) I embarked on my professional photojournalism career in the early 80s. Since then I've been a still photographer believing in the power of the single image. I have always worked to make that one single, powerful image that tells a story and connects with the reader. For me, still photography has always been the most pure, most honest imagery. It has taken me years to learn how to make those decisive images, years to learn exactly when and how to push the shutter button to capture the best photograph.
Video? That was what we all saw on the evening news. There was the very occasional story-telling piece but most news video seemed to be B roll and a stand up by a news person. I never got a real sense of the people and their stories. The video camera vacuumed up all the images, not focussing on any one decisive moment to tell the story. It simply wasn't powerful in the way a still image can be powerful.
I never envisioned carrying a video camera and I am still having some difficulty with that image. But cameras, after all, are just the tools (albeit they are really cool tools) we use to tell the stories. Video cameras will be just another addition to our visual tool kit.
I continue to fervently believe in the power of the single still image to capture the emotion of a moment in a way that no video can capture. But video can and will play an important role in my job to tell the stories of Central Washington. I am still a photojournalist, just now a photojournalist with a different type of camera. And I'll just have to get used to carrying a video camera.
--Gordon King
video cameras and
related accessories.
Their arrival marked the start of a new era in photography at the Yakima Herald-Republic, an era in which photographers and reporters will be shooting video as well as our usual still digital photographs. The video will be posted on this website as well as the newspaper's main website, www.yakimaherald.com. The inclusion of video into the visual mix will be one more way of bringing more information to the reader and making our Web sites the place to go for both written and visual information.
Those two boxes included more than just video gear - they included both an opportunity and no small amount of angst. I, along with the rest of the photographers and reporters at the Herald-Republic, will now have another way to tell stories. We can use the power of those moving pictures to bring the stories of people, places and events to our readers. Truth be told, there are some stories which can be told better with video than still images. Now, with video cameras, we have the opportunity to tell the story in the best fashion possible. I'm very excited about that.
I'm pretty sure that Roberts Imaging (the place we bought the cameras) didn't mean to, but they included anxiety in those boxes along with the cameras. We now have to learn a whole new set of skills to take advantage of the power of video. Shooting video includes many of the same techniques we've learned as still photojournalists so that part shouldn't be so hard. But editing video is something most of us have never done and it's going to take some serious study and work to get it right (and that's where the anxiety comes in). I'm going to make some mistakes and shoot some bad video but in time I'll learn how to do it and do it right.
Video has been coming our way for the last couple of years. As its arrival neared over the last couple of months I've been doing some hard thinking about my job as a photojournalist and how I view myself in that job. I'll admit it -- I've been a journalist longer than some of our reporters have been alive. My first professional camera was a beat-up Nikon F2 with a motordrive that used AA batteries. And I shot film -- all black and white Tri-X. With that camera and a Domke bag full of fixed focal-length lenses (all manual focus -- there was no autofocus in those days) I embarked on my professional photojournalism career in the early 80s. Since then I've been a still photographer believing in the power of the single image. I have always worked to make that one single, powerful image that tells a story and connects with the reader. For me, still photography has always been the most pure, most honest imagery. It has taken me years to learn how to make those decisive images, years to learn exactly when and how to push the shutter button to capture the best photograph.
Video? That was what we all saw on the evening news. There was the very occasional story-telling piece but most news video seemed to be B roll and a stand up by a news person. I never got a real sense of the people and their stories. The video camera vacuumed up all the images, not focussing on any one decisive moment to tell the story. It simply wasn't powerful in the way a still image can be powerful.
I never envisioned carrying a video camera and I am still having some difficulty with that image. But cameras, after all, are just the tools (albeit they are really cool tools) we use to tell the stories. Video cameras will be just another addition to our visual tool kit.
I continue to fervently believe in the power of the single still image to capture the emotion of a moment in a way that no video can capture. But video can and will play an important role in my job to tell the stories of Central Washington. I am still a photojournalist, just now a photojournalist with a different type of camera. And I'll just have to get used to carrying a video camera.
--Gordon King
Just Another Day at the Office...
September28200702:12 PM
One of the
things I love most about being a photojournalist is
that every day brings new challenges. No two days are
ever alike. On Thursday, I got to the office with two
assignments in my box-fairly typical. One was in our
studio, head shots of two people for a story, and the
other, a feature for the sports department. After
checking my e-mail, I headed out to get one of my other
chores for the day done-getting my press pass for the
upcoming Central Washington State Fair. Because the
fair office had had problems with its camera, the line
was pretty long when I got to the SunDome. But, I was
simply in the same boat as all the other folks-delivery
people and fair workers-who were waiting, and no doubt
the people making the pictures were having a much
longer day than mine. Ten minutes into the wait, I get
a call from my editor-there's a city council meeting
that needs to be covered. My pass will have to wait. I
pop into the office to pick up my new assignment, so
I'll know what the story is going in and head over.
The problem with photographing meetings is that, although the issues discussed may be important, visually, there is usually just a lot of talking
and listening.
I sat on the floor for almost an hour, waiting for the people in the neighborhood surrounding the site where a Seattle developer wants to build apartments for seniors to show, through expression or gesture, just how frustrated they were. I could tell the man sitting near me, Earl Pratt, had something to say-he'd been taking notes and nodding as the people before him made their presentations. When he stood up to address the session, I knew I had my photo.
Back at the office, I downloaded my images, thinking to get them ready for publication before the women I was photographing in the studio showed up. Before the files were even finished copying, a message came over the police scanner, and a news editor came running towards the photo department: someone had been shot on South Naches Avenue. Lots of police were heading over. The suspects were still at large. Grabbing our cameras, fellow photographer Kris Holland and I headed out.
Spot news-fires, accidents, crimes-aren't an every day occurance, but they are part of our job. They are usually part of the job I like least – photographing people on what is likely the worst day they have had in a long time. When I showed up to the scene, police cars were already blocking the road, and emergency workers were loading the victim into the ambulance. I shot a a few frames, knowing we likely wouldn't publish them. Kris and I stayed back, taking some shots of the overall scene while we tried to get the lay of the land. A police officer went running by me, and suddenly, a nearby police car took off down Naches Avenue. Kris headed for his car and I jumped in and off we went. Two blocks later, police, with guns drawn, were running down a back alley and around several houses. Kris took the alley, and I headed around front.
I jumped, but kept photographing as police drew their guns and started shouting at someone I couldn't see.
At any emergency scene, my job is to come back with storytelling images, but to stay out of the way of emergency workers who are trying to do their jobs too. I remembered a story I once saw of a photographer chasing a suspect with police only to realize later how much danger he'd put himself in because the suspect was armed. It ran through my head that if shots started flying, I definitely didn't want to be in the way. Luckily, for all, that wasn't the case.
The suspect had hidden under a house and they pulled him out and handcuffed him.
Shortly thereafter, I was at the office, downloading the photos and running to get the lights set up for the headshots.
That done, time to grab a quick lunch and head to my afternoon assignment, the sports feature.
I love shooting sports, especially the dedicated athletes in high schools. I admire the dedication these young athletes bring to their sports, and the excitement and joy when they compete. My afternoon feature was of a Eisenhower High School runner, Ivan Alfaro who has Usher's syndrome. He's been deaf since birth and only has about 20 percent vision.
In order to show how Ivan was different from his teammates, to show his unique challenges, I couldn't just shoot him running. Visually, he's no different from any other runner. With some help from the writer and my editor, we decided to shoot the pre-preactice pep talk from the coach, which Ivan hears through an intepreter who signs the coach's words. I had a good situation, but needed to figure out how to get both elements into the frame. I decided to shoot the intepreter's hands, to show the signing, then Ivan's face, watching. After a couple of wider shots, I realized Ivan didn't really stand out from his teammates-he'd be hard for a reader to identify.
I switched lenses and cropped out his teammates, and had my shot.
I hung around for a little longer to see if I could get another nice photo of him warming up. Although I had a shot that described how he was unique, I didn't feel I'd captured any of his personality, showed the person, not the disability. And it's people that I'm interested in. As he was warming up, he was joking with his teammates, and the coach came over to push him in his stretches a bit. He groaned but laughed at how inflexible he was. His face lit up and I had my shot, felt good that I could show him as just another member of the team, gearing up for Saturday's big race.
After toning the photos back at the office, I had one last task for the day: the press pass. Kris and I headed to the SunDome together, knowing that good conversation might make the wait go faster.
When we got to the front of the line, the folks at the fair office laughed as we took pictures of each other, and of ourselves being photographed. No doubt they'd had a very long day helping impatient people get their credientials, and a little fun to top off all of our days was a good thing.
Smile!
-- Sara Gettys
The problem with photographing meetings is that, although the issues discussed may be important, visually, there is usually just a lot of talking
and listening.
I sat on the floor for almost an hour, waiting for the people in the neighborhood surrounding the site where a Seattle developer wants to build apartments for seniors to show, through expression or gesture, just how frustrated they were. I could tell the man sitting near me, Earl Pratt, had something to say-he'd been taking notes and nodding as the people before him made their presentations. When he stood up to address the session, I knew I had my photo.
Back at the office, I downloaded my images, thinking to get them ready for publication before the women I was photographing in the studio showed up. Before the files were even finished copying, a message came over the police scanner, and a news editor came running towards the photo department: someone had been shot on South Naches Avenue. Lots of police were heading over. The suspects were still at large. Grabbing our cameras, fellow photographer Kris Holland and I headed out.
Spot news-fires, accidents, crimes-aren't an every day occurance, but they are part of our job. They are usually part of the job I like least – photographing people on what is likely the worst day they have had in a long time. When I showed up to the scene, police cars were already blocking the road, and emergency workers were loading the victim into the ambulance. I shot a a few frames, knowing we likely wouldn't publish them. Kris and I stayed back, taking some shots of the overall scene while we tried to get the lay of the land. A police officer went running by me, and suddenly, a nearby police car took off down Naches Avenue. Kris headed for his car and I jumped in and off we went. Two blocks later, police, with guns drawn, were running down a back alley and around several houses. Kris took the alley, and I headed around front.
I jumped, but kept photographing as police drew their guns and started shouting at someone I couldn't see.
At any emergency scene, my job is to come back with storytelling images, but to stay out of the way of emergency workers who are trying to do their jobs too. I remembered a story I once saw of a photographer chasing a suspect with police only to realize later how much danger he'd put himself in because the suspect was armed. It ran through my head that if shots started flying, I definitely didn't want to be in the way. Luckily, for all, that wasn't the case.
The suspect had hidden under a house and they pulled him out and handcuffed him.
Shortly thereafter, I was at the office, downloading the photos and running to get the lights set up for the headshots.
That done, time to grab a quick lunch and head to my afternoon assignment, the sports feature.
I love shooting sports, especially the dedicated athletes in high schools. I admire the dedication these young athletes bring to their sports, and the excitement and joy when they compete. My afternoon feature was of a Eisenhower High School runner, Ivan Alfaro who has Usher's syndrome. He's been deaf since birth and only has about 20 percent vision.
In order to show how Ivan was different from his teammates, to show his unique challenges, I couldn't just shoot him running. Visually, he's no different from any other runner. With some help from the writer and my editor, we decided to shoot the pre-preactice pep talk from the coach, which Ivan hears through an intepreter who signs the coach's words. I had a good situation, but needed to figure out how to get both elements into the frame. I decided to shoot the intepreter's hands, to show the signing, then Ivan's face, watching. After a couple of wider shots, I realized Ivan didn't really stand out from his teammates-he'd be hard for a reader to identify.
I switched lenses and cropped out his teammates, and had my shot.
I hung around for a little longer to see if I could get another nice photo of him warming up. Although I had a shot that described how he was unique, I didn't feel I'd captured any of his personality, showed the person, not the disability. And it's people that I'm interested in. As he was warming up, he was joking with his teammates, and the coach came over to push him in his stretches a bit. He groaned but laughed at how inflexible he was. His face lit up and I had my shot, felt good that I could show him as just another member of the team, gearing up for Saturday's big race.
After toning the photos back at the office, I had one last task for the day: the press pass. Kris and I headed to the SunDome together, knowing that good conversation might make the wait go faster.
When we got to the front of the line, the folks at the fair office laughed as we took pictures of each other, and of ourselves being photographed. No doubt they'd had a very long day helping impatient people get their credientials, and a little fun to top off all of our days was a good thing.
Smile!
-- Sara Gettys
Food karma
September24200708:38 PM
Who
cares what's in a hot dog? When diverse, cast-aside
elements come together to make something great, why,
that's the American Way. No, you do not ask of the hot
dog, the hot dog asks of you, what are you made
of?"
-- Miller High Life advertisement
Before I started working in journalism, I never expected to hear the National Anthem or say the Pledge of Allegiance as many times as I have, but we go to a lot of public events that begin that way, and that's just how it is. I also never dreamed that I would eat as many hot dogs as I have, and the two often tend to go hand-in-hand since both happen before high school sporting events, and I've been to a lot of high school sporting events.
The hot dog thing started when I was working in Twin Falls, Idaho. I mentioned to my friend and fellow photographer, Andy Arenz, that I was going to grab a hot dog from the concession stand before shooting a Detrich High School basketball game. Andy sort of looked surprised. "Wow, I don't
know if I would do
that," He said, or something to that effect. When
I asked him why, he answered, "I don't know,
really, it just seems like it would be bad luck."
He suggested that I instead get something for the
drive to the game. "Maybe Burger King," he
suggested. But not a Whopper or anything like
that, but rather a cheeseburger, since they stick
together well and wouldn't fall apart as I ate and
drove. Photographers aren't really known for
their healthy diets. So Burger King it
was.
Now, some photographers would have chalked up my failure to get a good photo at that Detrich game to: dungeon-like lighting, zero places from which to shoot, a short time to shoot due to a late-starting game on a dark snowy night with a tight deadline. But I wasn't about to start making excuses like that. The blame fell squarely on my Burger King dinner. When I saw Andy next and he saw my sub-par photo, all I could do was shake my head and say to him with disdain, "Burger King." We had a good laugh. But before my next game, I had a hot dog from the concession and got a good photo. Since then -- and much to my doctor's dismay, I'm sure -- I always have a hot dog before a game (I try hard not to think about how many I've eaten). It got to the point last year that the Ike boosters saw me coming and had the hot dog waiting on the counter for me. Sad, isn't it?
But it seems to work, so I'm not about to risk messing it up. I think the reason it works is simple: I'm giving some support to the school -- however small the purchase of a hot dog might be -- before I shoot the game. I give a little, and I get a little back.
-- Miller High Life advertisement
Before I started working in journalism, I never expected to hear the National Anthem or say the Pledge of Allegiance as many times as I have, but we go to a lot of public events that begin that way, and that's just how it is. I also never dreamed that I would eat as many hot dogs as I have, and the two often tend to go hand-in-hand since both happen before high school sporting events, and I've been to a lot of high school sporting events.
The hot dog thing started when I was working in Twin Falls, Idaho. I mentioned to my friend and fellow photographer, Andy Arenz, that I was going to grab a hot dog from the concession stand before shooting a Detrich High School basketball game. Andy sort of looked surprised. "Wow, I don't
know if I would do
that," He said, or something to that effect. When
I asked him why, he answered, "I don't know,
really, it just seems like it would be bad luck."
He suggested that I instead get something for the
drive to the game. "Maybe Burger King," he
suggested. But not a Whopper or anything like
that, but rather a cheeseburger, since they stick
together well and wouldn't fall apart as I ate and
drove. Photographers aren't really known for
their healthy diets. So Burger King it
was.Now, some photographers would have chalked up my failure to get a good photo at that Detrich game to: dungeon-like lighting, zero places from which to shoot, a short time to shoot due to a late-starting game on a dark snowy night with a tight deadline. But I wasn't about to start making excuses like that. The blame fell squarely on my Burger King dinner. When I saw Andy next and he saw my sub-par photo, all I could do was shake my head and say to him with disdain, "Burger King." We had a good laugh. But before my next game, I had a hot dog from the concession and got a good photo. Since then -- and much to my doctor's dismay, I'm sure -- I always have a hot dog before a game (I try hard not to think about how many I've eaten). It got to the point last year that the Ike boosters saw me coming and had the hot dog waiting on the counter for me. Sad, isn't it?
But it seems to work, so I'm not about to risk messing it up. I think the reason it works is simple: I'm giving some support to the school -- however small the purchase of a hot dog might be -- before I shoot the game. I give a little, and I get a little back.
Memorials and funerals
September23200709:20 AM
Memorials and
funerals we attend are always emotional
events, always painful to photograph in some shape or form. Like last
Friday before Grandview High School's homecoming football game when a
memorial to fallen soldier Matt Emerson reminded everyone that sometimes
people don't come home from wars. Emerson died in the service of his
country, and his family, friends and community members honored his
memory on the field where only a few years before he had played
football.
It's always difficult to remain emotionally detached in these
situations, but that's what we have to do. We have to do our jobs and
create photos that document the event and tell our readers the story.
We have to point our cameras on people who might not be too
enthusiastic about being photographed at that moment, and take our
photos. We have to walk up to them afterward and ask them their
names. It really stinks. It's especially bad when the person being
honored seemed to me to be the kind of person I wish I had known, his
family the type of people I would like as neighbors. But I didn't let
myself get caught up in the moment, even when my gut turned as the
announcer called out Emerson's number and name, but instead of him
running onto the field, cheerleaders released balloons that I watched
float up, out, then beyond the stadium lights.
Afterward, as I walked back to the car, a woman thanked me for being
at the event. I told her, "You're very welcome," when really I felt
like it was I who should be thanking her and all the people there for
letting me attend. I put my gear in the back seat, turned and waved
back at her and I could feel it welling up. When I climbed in and
closed the door I realized what I already knew: I can only hold it
together for so long. It was a long ride back to the office.
events, always painful to photograph in some shape or form. Like last
Friday before Grandview High School's homecoming football game when a
memorial to fallen soldier Matt Emerson reminded everyone that sometimes
people don't come home from wars. Emerson died in the service of his
country, and his family, friends and community members honored his
memory on the field where only a few years before he had played
football.
It's always difficult to remain emotionally detached in these
situations, but that's what we have to do. We have to do our jobs and
create photos that document the event and tell our readers the story.
We have to point our cameras on people who might not be too
enthusiastic about being photographed at that moment, and take our
photos. We have to walk up to them afterward and ask them their
names. It really stinks. It's especially bad when the person being
honored seemed to me to be the kind of person I wish I had known, his
family the type of people I would like as neighbors. But I didn't let
myself get caught up in the moment, even when my gut turned as the
announcer called out Emerson's number and name, but instead of him
running onto the field, cheerleaders released balloons that I watched
float up, out, then beyond the stadium lights.
Afterward, as I walked back to the car, a woman thanked me for being
at the event. I told her, "You're very welcome," when really I felt
like it was I who should be thanking her and all the people there for
letting me attend. I put my gear in the back seat, turned and waved
back at her and I could feel it welling up. When I climbed in and
closed the door I realized what I already knew: I can only hold it
together for so long. It was a long ride back to the office.
Lucky
September18200703:15 PM
The Inevitable
September14200709:25 AM
I was left with a bloody stump for an arm after Sunday's street luge assignment. "Look out" were the last words I heard before bales of hay were airborne and my arm was wedged between the pavement and one of these modified skateboard contraptions.
OK, so maybe the "bloody stump" is a huge exaggeration. Nonetheless, while lying on my stomach to make photos of kids speeding down 96th Avenue through an obstacle course, I was suddenly struck by an out of control youngster participating in the USA Luge Slider Search tour put on by members of the USA Luge National Team. After the impact, I stood with a gash in my wrist and bloody elbows and knees. I fumed. I was about to yell at the kid who ran me over but, after inhaling deeply, I realized no one was to blame for our painful introduction. I was positioned off the course and in what I thought at the time was a safe area, and the young man was certainly not intentionally trying to grind my hand away from my arm. It was a simple accident. As photographers, we understand that there are some risks associated with our profession. It is our job to get the best photo possible and sometimes that means we get hit, bitten and bruised (if not worse) in the process. It's not the first time I've come back to the newsroom a little bloody, and I'm sure it won't be the last.
--Kris Holland
Size isn't everything
September07200702:15 PM
This is an illustration to disprove the sentiments I
(and my fellow photographers) have heard many times
about how having a long lens must make for great
pictures. It does -- as long as you're in place before
the action, have a nice, clean background, and (at
least in my case) a fairly quick and accurate
autofocus. Where a long lens sings is stopping action
with a minimal depth of field, making a subject "pop"
in focus against a background that's intentionally left
out of focus. We want to see the jubilation of victory
or the sweat of exertion on the athlete's face, not the
spectator eating a hot dog behind her. What goes into
making that great picture is knowing what's going to
happen before it does -- where the play is headed,
which player is likely to react when she scores a
point, who's in position to dive for the ball. A moment
too late means the ball is out of the frame and the
picture is unusable. A moment too late and that foot of
focus is mispl