I was a bit behind on listening to my regular podcasts due to the recent passing (June 10) of my mother. Upon “catching up” I came across one of my favorite episodes thus far of Photography Daily Podcast titled “The picture that changed my life!” and it began me thinking of where I began and fell in love with photography.
I was asked in high school (1982-86) if I was interested in taking pictures for the school paper and yearbook. My answer was a simple “I guess”, then a Fujifilm film camera, was thrust into my hand and I was told to stay after school to discuss what my role would be and what I would be doing. In that meeting, I met the other photographer for the school, told I would attend sporting events, social gatherings, and any other activities that were school-related and shoot them. We were shown the darkroom (training on developing photographs came later following the first roll of film I shot), where we were to get the supplies (had to log each roll of film we took), what assignments were upcoming, and thus, like that, I became an official photographer.
My training came exclusively by trial and error. I learned how to shoot (technical aspects), angles, lighting, etc. all by trial and error. My first roll of film had 12 exposure and if I recall 3-4 pictures turned out. The darkroom process taught me even more. To this day I still have those chemical smells in my nose.
The art teacher who was over the previously mentioned paper/yearbook gave me some books and photos “to study and inspire” which leads me to answer the question of your podcast. I rifled through many photos and pages but one particular shot from W. Eugene Smith had me mesmerized. It was in black and white (how I was shooting at the time, as the school couldn’t afford color), but to me, I was left with tons of questions about this one-shot I had in my hand. The shot above (I copied off of Pinterest) is that shot that inspired me to keep going, keep trying, keep shooting. I asked myself was this kid in this picture hiding from a bully, a dog, another person. Was he climbing for fun? What was below him? Did he get up there on a box or trash can, or was he just a great climber? Is there an irony to the word PRIDE on the street sign? The clothing, the grain, the clarity of the street sign blew me away. That is what began my passion for storytelling with my camera. Being 15 or 16 years old at the time, I had no idea this shot was taken in the 1950s, nor did I care. All I wanted to know was this kid’s story and why was he on that pole?
To me, that is the goal of photography. Tell a story, or at a minimum help, the viewer creates a story in their mind as I did. If I can do that with my work, then to me I can call myself a true photographer.
P.S. Years later I saw this photo below which answered a few of those original questions I had, but for years I loved the stories I made up in my head as to why that kid was on that sign. My assumption, based on the shot below was, the boy was just playing with friends, but I will never truly know. Those with a keen eye will notice the kid on the bottom left is the one climbing on the picture at the beginning of the post, but my assumption is they are all still being kids and having fun playing.
Until next time,
Tim
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