Personal reflections and philosophical musings on the art of photography, drawn from decades of documenting the human and natural world. A deeper look at what lies behind and beyond the images.
Incredible video about how the wolves, re-introduced into Yellowstone National Park in 1995, have started a trophic cascade – an ecological process that starts at the top of the food chain and tumbles all the way down to the bottom – and how this trophic cascade has actually altered the rivers in the park. It is all good news and time well spent to view the video.
The dance begins again. Packing, unpacking, weighing my bags and double checking my equipment list. I am heading north to Alaska with National Geographic/Lindblad Expeditions for the next three weeks. Most important item besides my cameras? My Xtratuf Boots. Follow my adventure on Instagram @JonathanKingston
I am often asked how many good photographs I get when I am out on assignment. In the days of film, this question was framed “Jonathan, how many usable photos do you get per roll? ” Today the question is simply reframed “What’s your ratio of good photographs to bad?”
It took me a long time before I could articulate an answer to the above question that didn’t leave me feeling strangely drained and awkward. Not because I didn’t have an answer; there was a time in my life I knew precisely how many good frames I was averaging per roll of film and could return the figure as accurately as a cash register printing a receipt. What always rubbed me the wrong way about the question was that I never liked the connotations of my answer – whatever the number was. I disliked the idea that one of the metrics of how good or bad a photographer I was could be measured by how many good or bad frames I captured on a roll of 36, or on a memory card.
Many moons ago, I posed the same question to one of my mentors, Dewitt Jones. He returned my question with a knowing smile and let just enough silence fill the space after the asking to make me feel like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. When Dewitt broke the silence he said “If your asking that, you’re asking the wrong question.” Feeling a little like young Luke Skywalker learning the force from master Yoda I replied, “What is the question I should be asking?” Dewitt answered, “The question you should be asking is ‘did I get THE shot’?” He then went on to explain, “You either get the shot or you don’t get the shot – it’s as simple as that.” The light began to dawn in my mind and I swear I saw Dewitt’s camera levitating ever so slightly on the table behind his chair. “It’s not how many good shots I get, the question is, ‘did I get THE shot?’”
So what is THE shot? For me the shot is the image, or group of images that most effectively tell the story. The frame(s) that capture both the reality and the feeling of the moment.
Cartier Bresson describes the shot as capturing the “decisive moment.” Rikki Cooke describes his process with the phrase “it turned my head.” Chris Rainier describes his approach as a “feeling in the solar plexus.” In fact, every great photographer I have ever spoken with uses different words to describe the same thing – excitement.
So what do I do when I have that feeling in the solar plexus? When my head turns to see the soft light gracing the pilgrims face?
My process can be summed up in three words: Ask, See, Do.
Ask – I ask myself: What is the story here? What matters in this scene and what doesn’t? How can I highlight what is working and eliminate what is not? And importantly, when photographing people, I try to live by the golden rule by always honoring my subjects and asking permission whenever possible.
See – Do I see the story in my mind’s eye? Do I see this shot at my core level? Am I seeing this shot with my head or my heart? If I don’t feel anything when I take the shot, people looking at my photo aren’t going to feel anything. If I am filled with joy at the beauty before me or cry because of the tragedy in front of my lens, my hope is those viewing the image will be able to feel the same emotion.
Do – Can I let my technology and technique augment my vision as an extension of myself, or is it going to be a barrier between myself and the scene. If it is a barrier – how can I simplify to the point where it is not and still capture the frame? Do I need to put away the DSLR and pick up my point and shoot?
Great photography is knowing the story, seeing it with my heart and capturing it in a way that allows me to remain connected to my subject. Great photography happens when subject, heart and technique connect; and when they do, the result is pure magic.
In 2002 I was a freshly minted graduate from Brooks Institute, and had just received the opportunity of a lifetime – a one year contract to move to India and teach at a newly opened photo college. To facilitate a quick departure from the USA, I took all my possessions and in a feat of amazing, Herculean and smart packing crammed everything into a 6’×10′ storage unit in Santa Barbara, California. In my mind, I envisioned living and teaching in India for a year, then returning to southern California with tales of adventure and glory and picking up where my life left off.
This is not what happened.
Continue reading What I Learned from Five Years in Mini Storage
From time to time I receive emails asking for advice from photographers who are just entering the business. Having recently replied to such an email, it made sense to share my answer with anyone who stumbles across this blog. The business of photography is evolving so quickly that marketing strategies that worked 1 year ago don’t necessarily apply today, however there are a few rules I have found to be true:
1) Only show work that you actually want to do. Editors and art directors love to pigeonhole photographers. You might have the best shot in the world of “x” but if “x” isn’t what you want to photograph – don’t show the shot.
2) Find a way to make yourself visible to the people you want to work for. 10 years ago this meant sending out promotional mailers on a regular basis to editors and art directors. Five years ago this meant sending out emails to the same. Today it means finding the social media channels those art directors are watching and being active and visible on them. Tomorrow it will mean something different. I don’t have the magic formula for this… I am experimenting just like you are.
3) Do good work. Don’t prove – rather continually improve.
4) Plan on starving. It isn’t feast or famine in this business – its only famine. Either you don’t have enough work to eat, or you are too busy to eat. The end result is the same either way. As a side note, most pro photographers net LESS on a year to year basis than the starting salary of school teachers.
5) Be nice… to everybody. The photography world is small and incestuous.
6) Find a way to survive. Some of the best photographers I know could not make it in the business and some of the worst continue to make ends meet. Your skill as a photographer only takes you so far. Your skill as a businessman/woman is MUCH MORE important. It is a long term game of attrition. If you can find a way to survive – you will win in the end.
In the end we will conserve only what we love. We love only what we understand. We will understand only what we are taught.
– Baba Dioum, 1968
Halleluja! After obsessing for the last couple weeks in front of the computer to solve the problem of balancing a tightly edited website featuring a current portfolio of my work while still allowing art buyers to search older classic images, I have implemented a two pronged solution. For anyone wishing to while away a few minutes of your time – please kick the tires of the brand new portfolio site jonathankingston.com and the new stock site stock.kingstonimages.com, then drop me an email or comment to let me know what you think.
