The Observer picture editor reflects on the evolution of photojournalism as he bows out after nearly 30 years
Jane Bown looking at a contact sheet by the lightbox, using her monocle eyeglass. Motorcycle couriers flirting with picture researchers. Reporters massaging the egos of alpha-male photographers, vying to become the next Don McCullin, the great photojournalist whose career began here. Men in shabby suits from now-defunct picture agencies, cigarette in hand as they hawked photo-essays from battered suitcases. The picture librarian ferrying files of black and white prints to the man who was at the centre of everything, the revered picture editor, Tony McGrath.
Over the years, he's covered plenty of high-profile events, including three Olympics and five Super Bowls.
Last fall, I marked my 25th anniversary with The Post-Crescent. It’s incredible how quickly time passes. I’ve spent close to half my life documenting the Fox Cities, Wisconsin and beyond. This journey has given me the privilege to tell the stories of so many.
Photography shines brightest when we are moved by it or it reveals something to us that we may have never seen before. We believe this selection of extraordinary photographs from the past year radiates that light.
As professional photography editors, we are accustomed to seeing a little bit of everything: war, famine, fires, hurricanes, politics, suffering, beauty, silliness and sometimes joy. This year was different. Photography, and photojournalism in particular, is regarded as a medium of reality. Reality became surreal this year and with it, photojournalism. Photography shines brightest when we are moved by it or it reveals something to us that we may have never seen before. We believe this selection of extraordinary photographs from the past year radiates that light. — the Washington Post Photography Team
"The Seven Cities" is the third in his series called "The Invisible Yoke." Here he looks at the people and places of Hampton Roads, and at the weight of memory.
Eich’s latest photography book, “The Seven Cities,” is a look at the places and people that make up Hampton Roads. It shows the variety that anyone can discover in an hour’s drive from an oyster roast in Suffolk to a Russian Orthodox Church service in Virginia Beach to an Amtrak bus station stop in Newport News. It also illuminates the grief, hope, anxiety and laughter of its people.
Here’s just a small sampling of the amazing images he captured in his time as a staff photographer, photo editor and most recently, the Deseret News’ chief photographer.
After 41 1⁄2 years as a photojournalist, 36 of those years with the Deseret News, Ravell Call hung up his camera straps for the last time this month. Here’s just a small sampling of the amazing images he captured in his time as a staff photographer, photo editor and most recently, the Deseret News’ chief photographer.
He was one of the great directors of the photo department of the NY Times magazine, then of Life magazine. Astonishing character, caustic, funny, attractive, fascinated by photojournalism and married to a wonderful lady : Anthéa Disney.
Working the politics beat in D.C. requires exquisite timing, patience and a thorough knowledge of who’s who in the political world. Photographer Mark Wilson had all of that and proved it over and over again.
That same feeling of absence is touching the photographic community here in D.C. after the sudden passing of Getty Images photographer Mark Wilson. I had the pleasure of working alongside him while covering Capitol Hill and the White House as a photo intern for U.S. News & World Report in 2001.
Recorded - August 20, 2020 From AL SOL to ZOI and back to Boston, Stella Johnson has been seeing, investigating and reflecting culture, community and family ...
From AL SOL to ZOI and back to Boston, Stella Johnson has been seeing, investigating and reflecting culture, community and family over the last forty years. She will talk about her process in crafting an image that brings the viewer to look again and again. Stella will also discuss how and why she has developed lifelong relationships with the people she photographs, and what that means to the photographic narrative. Learning to see requires perseverance, patience, preparation, and knowing what to look for when you encounter those unexpected moments.
Ed Templeton is a photographer, artist, and skateboard executive based on Huntington Beach, CA. (This interview was compiled from two chats...
SO, that leads to the answer. I think I am drawn to anything that is interesting to me, mostly people and how they present themselves and act. I trust my eye and sensibilities as I walk around to guide me. I probably err on the side of being a tad cynical. I like shooting people most. I think that is the hardest kind of photo to take, so I enjoy the rush of getting close and seeing and and trying to compose and capture a little slice of reality that can transcend the moment and tell a story on its own. Although I'm sure many of mine do not succeed on that level, and of course they are open to varying interpretations, that's the idea.
Kids, masked, greeted their teachers with pantomimed high-fives. Some rushed jubilantly toward their classmates, while others solemnly maintained a perimeter of personal space.
On Tuesday, after seven months of closure due to the coronavirus pandemic, and two reopening delays, New York City’s public elementary schools welcomed students back inside their buildings. It wasn’t technically the first day of school—the beginning of the academic year took place remotely—and in many ways it didn’t feel like one. The streets of the East Village, a neighborhood with one of the highest densities of primary schools in the city, would in any other year be a snarl of yellow buses, and sidewalks and schoolyards would reverberate with operatic shouts and shrieks of greeting. This time, by comparison, the activity was sparse and subdued. Parents and caretakers, queuing for drop-off (their times staggered, at most schools, to avoid crowding), stood atop social-distancing markers—yellow lines painted on the pavement outside of one school building, yellow stars at another, blue “X”s of electrical tape on the sidewalk at a third. Kids, masked, greeted their teachers with pantomimed high-fives. Some rushed jubilantly toward their classmates, while others solemnly maintained a perimeter of personal space.