She began carrying a medium-format Rolleicord as a correspondent for The New York Herald Tribune in the 1930s. “I just put one finger on the shutter and I found I was really enjoying it,” she said. “Now I could make my own pictures that also told the story.”
Working as a staff photojournalist has its challenges. How do you stay inspired, happy, and passionate about photographing a white guy in a suit standing in front of a building? How can you make compelling images that give your photo subjects a voice in their own community when you can only stay for only 10 minutes? Why am I photographing this plate of food that barely resembles food? How do you make a picture that says “ribbon-cutting” without literally shooting the ribbon being cut?
Matt Black, 1970, USA, is a socially engaged documentary photographer. He grew up in a small town in California’s Central Valley, an agricultural area that is home to some of the poorest communities in the US. In his Dust Stories he photographs the various communities, including indigenous Mexicans and the isolated Hmong population, who have come to Central Valley to work on large and rich farms or try to make a living on their own.
Why does photojournalism addict us and make us want so badly to do this even though there are better ways to make more money?
The answer struck me when reading this recent book by Jane McGonigal. In Reality is Broken she describes the four defining traits that make a game a game. They are a goal, rules, a feedback system and voluntary participation.
Mr. Melcher misses the mark when he asks what gender has to do with the photojournalistic process. I’d like to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that his post is attempting to say that photojournalism transcends gender, and gender should not be relevant. I think he meant that in the best possible way, but saying that is like saying we’ve transcended race in America. I don’t live in a fantasyland where racism doesn’t exist and I certainly don’t live in a society absent of sexism. Sometimes gender has nothing to do with the photojournalistic process, sure, but sometimes it has everything to do with it.
“There are no more discoveries to be made,” Elisabeth Biondi tells me on the opening night of the fourth annual New York Photo Festival. “Anyone can take a picture now, so it’s forced documentary photographers to have a more personalized vision.”
Special blog update to go through the details of this year’s Visa pour l’Image programme… You can read Olivier Laurent’s interview with festival director Jean-Francois Leroy…
Here is a selection of photographs submitted for the Conflict Zone exhibit, along with reactions from some of the people who attended the opening on Saturday.
Last week, Bill Keller, the executive editor of The New York Times, met with the photographers Joao Silva and Greg Marinovich at Walter Reed Army Medical Center, where Mr. Silva is recovering from the grave injuries he suffered — including the loss of his legs — when a land mine exploded under him in Afghanistan. Their conversation, which served as the basis for Mr. Keller’s column in The Times Magazine this week, is presented here in full, with minor editing and condensing.
Tereza and I were visiting New York on September 11, 2001…
Tereza ran to the corner to see and began screaming. I ran up and we could see smoke and flames billowing out of the large black hole, along with desks, chairs, papers and several bodies. I knew I was no longer a news photographer as my instinct was to get my wife out of there
I was reminded over the past couple of days that we are living in a new era. I have just returned from an assignment in London to cover the Royal Wedding. I felt some kind of obligation to history, I suppose, having been present as part of a big team of photographers covering the Diana-Charles
Edward Wong of the New York Times shares the story of Chris Hondros’s photographs documenting the accidental killing of Iraqi civilians by American troops in Iraq.
I didn’t know Chris well, but I saw him on a few occasions in Iraq. He was a calm, cheerful presence in the middle of a war that was growing more chaotic by the day. After I heard the awful news of his death in Libya last week, I remembered interviewing him in Baghdad about what he saw one winter night in 2005: the accidental shooting of an Iraqi family by American soldiers in Tal Afar. My notebook with the entire interview is in the U.S., but I found a memo on my computer that I had typed up afterwards. There are few better examples of his professionalism and compassion than the photos he shot that night. Chris was a strong advocate for documenting the impact of war on civilians. This is an edited version of the memo.
When Tuscaloosa News‘ Dusty Compton took a photo of the massive tornado that swept through Tuscaloosa, Ala., Wednesday afternoon, he didn’t know it would land on the cover of The New York Times, USA Today and dozens of other newspapers throughout the country.
After a 12-hour drive we reach Sendai, with an empty tank. We have been listening to the radio all day. Reactor No. 3 has blown up. NHK Radio is playing a slow instrumental version of “Strawberry Fields Forever.” NHK is a news station and never plays music. Not a good sign.
I get phone calls from the writers. “Leave now!” they say. I call Harald and explain why I want to find out more before I make a decision. He tells me to be very careful, but says that he trusts my judgment.
