The Smell of Fixer in the Morning

This is a bit off topic but was prompted by my trip yesterday to Randolph Community College in Asheboro, NC.  I was giving a seminar for ASMP  “Converging Media – Adding Video to Your Skill Set”.  After setting up for my presentation I was given a tour of the school – a wonderful facility.  After going through their impressive computer labs and studios – I asked my guide and Program Head, Chuck Egerton,  if the school still had dark rooms.  He smiled and said “I’ll show you”

The second I entered the darkroom – and got that familiar taste of fixer in my mouth – I was immediately transplanted back to Brooks Institute in Santa Barbara where I had studied 34 years ago.  It’s hard to believe it’s been 34 years but when I walked into that darkroom and saw the students making their prints – it seemed like I was back at school.

A lot of memories flashed through my mind that hadn’t surfaced in years.  Being the only woman in my class – and one of six in the entire school.  Always being in a rush because I was working full time at night and going to classes and executing my assignments during the day.  Racing from the Riviera campus to the Montecito campus at break neck speeds around the curves in my big old orange Dodge van.  And most of all living in beautiful sunny Southern California, yet spending a lot of my time – in the dark.

The changes in photography have been profound since then and I’d probably have to say that as much as I learned at Brooks – I’ve learned a lot more since – out of necessity because of technology.  I love learning more now than I ever did in my younger days.  History gives interesting perspectives and when something jogs my memory and I remember my own history – I’m amazed by how much things have changed.  Seems like only yesterday.

Convergence – Defining Yourself By Your Vision – Not Your Tool

It’s 4AM as I write this entry.  I can’t sleep.  That often happens when my mind is in overdrive as it has been all week – over stimulated by the process of editing video. I’ve also spent a lot of time this past week speaking with quite a few photographers who are working in both the still photography and video mediums.  Some shooters I spoke with got into video because the entry level became cheaper when hybrid cameras that shoot both stills and video came on the market.  Other people I talked to weren’t “camera operators” at all – they were DP’s or Directors of Photography on high-end commercial broadcast productions.

One question I asked these shooters was “What do you call yourself these days?” Personally I’m struggling with that question myself.  Am I a  photographer?, a videographer? (I hate that term), a DP?, a media producer?  Who am I ?  What do I call myself? I have yet to answer that question for myself, but the answers that I got from everyone I spoke with, ran the gamut, encompassing all the titles above.  As I replayed these conversations in my head, I realized that for me the problem was I was trying to define myself by my tool.  And that just doesn’t work.

The problem is if we define ours by our tools – then we are diminishing the value of our creativity or our visionboy_viewer in the process.  We aren’t placing the value on what is unique in all of us – our vision. At the same time we’re placing too much value on the tool – in this case the camera.  As technology accelerates the production of more sophisticated cameras that are cheaper and easier to use – and we’ve placed our value on being the technician – we’re in big trouble.  Because ultimately anyone with a vision who has the “ability” to realize that vision, can put together a crew of technicians to facilitate their vision or idea – and do it cheaper these days because of technology.  And there’s nothing wrong with that.

Professional photographers get defensive when a potential client places no value on what is unique about them (their vision) and approaches them with the attitude that if you won’t work for the prices they dictate – they will just find another photographer.  But what they are really saying is that they feel that they can “just” find another camera operator. The problem is that these photographers haven’t presented their vision and because of that they are perceived as being interchangeable. That’s not a good place to be and never will be.  And for that reason when a professional still photographer comes to me and says that they are interested in getting into video and asks the question “What video camera should I buy?” I gently tell them – well sometimes not so gently tell them – it’s not about the camera.

How does one define what they are?  Great question that has a lot of answers, as it should.  Technology is amazing – but it’s the human part of the process that excites me because we’re all so different in how we see.