Back on the street

The weather is back to nice (30 C at dusk, feels almost chilly) and the kids are on vacation, so I’ve managed to wrangle a half hour away from everything. Landed in the parking lot of a huge park they’re rebuilding in the center of AD. The workers where wait9ing around for their accomodation shuttles.The trip is an hour each way, twice a day. Little to no AC. To go back to lodgings that look like a prison camp (although to be fair – they seem clean and well kempt from the outside)
The Pinoy guy is from Cebu. I think he was very happy to talk.

“By Tuesday, you’ll hate me”

These are the first words I remember from DAH when I introduced myself the day before class. I remember thinking that it was hype and bluster. How hard could it be?

By Tuesday I was hating him, photography, Dubai, myself and the world.

But let’s get one thing out if the way first: I don’t recommend you take this course.

Yes: It’s the best course I’ve ever taken in my life. But I don’t recommend you take it.

Look, I don’t know you. I don’t know if you have what it takes. Hell, I didn’t know myself if I had what it takes. So on this one, you’re on your own. You’re going to have to take an adult decision. Do you feel you have what it takes? Then go do it. The question, of course, is what does it take?

So what happens during these mysterious sessions?

For the most part, I was trying not to fall asleep, because I’d been up shooting and editing late (yes, partying was involved, but any good GPPer will tell you it’s part of the process.) For another part, I was fascinated and terrorized by my classmate’s portfolios. They were better than me technically. They were more creative. They had better access or better gear. Anything to feed the self doubt.
And then of course, there were the minutes when my own pictures were up on that wall. Typical aphorism: “Your bad pictures are closer to good than your good ones.”
So from the outside, all that happens is that David spends his time looking at our stuff, commenting on it and editing it (as in “no, no, no, no, maybe, no, no …”) And he spends time in between telling us to get an education on photography.
So on the face of it, not much happens.

Okay, but what really happens?

The worse for me was the lack of structure. No guidance, no chapters. Just: “Find a subject”, “Find a place”. “Go shoot.”
But just like in real life the journey matters more than the destination.
And the journey is simple: Find a subject, try to shoot it, show your pictures, go shoot again. Rinse, Repeat.
The trick, of course, is when it fails. That’s where you learn.

As Sara Lando put it in a tweet to me when I was feeling particularly down:

@TSWDAH he’s busy tearing you apart. The beer will come later, when you’ll staple the pieces back together.
And she was absolutely right.

Frankly, I wanted to believe her, but I don’t think I could.
It took three days of me failing.
In the end, David sat me down and told me that I was biting too much, that I wanted to say too much:

“Not everything you can articulate is easy or worth shooting”.

“Find something small and shoot it. Anders Petersen shot the same cafe for three years. “

As frustrating as it was, this was the turning point of my week. Kaya, a Burn editor and David’s assistant, mentionned a fisherman’s accomodation in the middle of Dubai she thought was worth shooting. I grasped at that idea like a lifeboat, and ran with it.

High as a kite

When I got to the warf I was determined to get the shots, and not move until I got them. So I stayed for 3 hours in a space not much larger than my bedroom. And shot, and talked to the guys, and shot again. At the end, I didn’t know if I had a good shot, but I had a new facebook friend who was calling me “photoman”. And I had a sense of the place that allowed me to capture it much better. On the contact sheets, I feel I can see the pictures becoming better and better.
And this waiting through the “bored” state is when I almost hit paydirt. At prayer call, the fishermen were wrapping up their day, we started saying goodbye – and in a reflex, I asked if I could see their accomodation. They were more than happy to oblige, and we started going in. Unfortunately, because it’s a government building, there’s a guard there who was kind of surprised to see me. After some palaver, he agreed that I could go see a room … but balked at the camera.
Dammit.
Yet that night, I was so sure I had something that I put together a slide show with some music (my wife can be your sound designer too, for a fee). When at the next morning critique David turned to me to say “You got it …”, I can’t tell you the sense of elation I felt then and there – until the “… but go get that shot of their room – without it, you got nothing” …. aaaaaaand crash.
That afternoon, the last day of shooting, I was pumped out of my mind. I had an Instax (thanks Fujifilm) so I wanted to give my new friends some snapshots. That alone was an awesome feeling, of giving back something instead of always taking.
Again, I spent hours shooting the scene. And this time, at the end, struck gold – by well prepared luck: I found that I could go in their kitchen, and it was a photographer’s dream. Absolutely no light save the cooking gaz and small LEDs they keep on their wrists. Jackpot.

As I was walking back towards the main road to get a taxi, I stopped because I was feeling weird. Then I realized: I was high. High on adrenalin, high on serotonin. Just plain happy.

The irony is that, for all this work, the shots I like best in the essay (the first and the last one) where almost pur luck. I took the first one thinking it was a snapshot of a guy dozing off, until I realized at home that his arm and the boat were just so. I staged a picture with an Instax in it, which I took many times until I got it absolutely right. In reality, it’s really bad. The one that works I took as I was passing by a net, for fun. But this would not have happened had I not failed spectacularly for three days, and worked the people and the location like a maniac.

Should you do it?

Breaking people to pieces to rebuild them is a classic technique. I guess I was ready to be broken. I’m sure some people aren’t. Or don’t like it. Or don’t want it.
It’s also a dangerous process, and David gets absolute credit for keeping our twelve individual stories and evolutions in his mind. I don’t think he pushed any of us too hard (but again, I can’t speak for the others.)

This is where you have to make your own mind. Are you ready to be run gratuitously through brutally honest critique every day (to be clear: never ever mean spirited – just no holds bared)? Are you ready to subject yourself to a “freeform” exercise where David will guide you, but not impose technique or subject in any way? Are you ready to be left to your own devices, find your own way, at the risk of getting absolutely nothing on the fifth day? If the answer is yes, then you’re in for the experience of a lifetime. If no, then try to work up the courage to do it one day. You owe it to your photography.

” I want to, but I’m not good enough.”

Pretty much everyone I met at GPP wanted to know how it was, and then immediately told me “oh, I couldn’t do it, I’m not a good enough photographer”.
To which my reply would be to laugh: I can’t light my way out of a paper bag, and I have a hard time remembering that f/2 is wide open.

Now, I’m not angelic.
There are good and bad photographers. There are people who will never get out of auto mode. But there are also people who will nail a shot with razor sharp focus every time, with the key light in the butterfly position and a 5/4 CTO gel (did I tell you I know nothing about light?) yet they will say absolutely NOTHING with their pictures. (Another Harveyism for you: “Yeah, it’s a picture, but it’s not a photograph”)

You can’t think of this class in terms of “technique”. I suspect if that’s the way you approach it, you’ll be sorely disappointed. But if you think you have a story to tell, I think you owe it to yourself to think it through long and hard. It just might be worth it.

Marketing is not a four letter word

I was pointed to a recent interview in DPReview of a senior FujiFilm manager.
I’ve written elsewhere about similarities between Apple and Fuji in their thoughtfulness of design.
The DPReview interview, by contrast, highlights a major difference in approach: Apple is notoriously tight-lipped about its design pipeline; Fuji, by comparison, has been very open, giving public access to some of its senior staff, bringing photographers to Japan to participate in their Kaizen process and, if the amount and precision of rumors leading up to the X-E2 and X-T1 are any indication, by orchestrating a very efficient viral marketing campaign.

I wasn’t paying attention in the 90’s, when Steve Jobs resurrected Apple, but I’d wager it was never similarly open: it seems too much of a cultural transformation to where it is now – the external secrecy it cherishes can only work with a healthy dose of internal paranoia. This in itself is good news to me: it means there is more than one path to thoughtful products. Hopefully it means that Apple and Fuji are not one-of-a-kind wonders but heralds of a trend.

A good example of Fuji’s openness, in the DPReview talk, is Iida-san’s discussion of continuing internal dissensions over providing firmware updates to discontinued models such as the X-E1 and X100. I can’t imagine that this was not a carefully thought out marketing point, just like the casual mention of film-era engineers guiding the Image Processing teams. And, because we’ve been conditioned to reject marketing, equating it to crass, vulgar, lowest-common-denominator advertising, there is some backlash to Fuji’s growing presence 1 in social media and in photography circles 2.
But I’m reminded here, as in design, that marketing can be a thoughtful process. Fuji is trying to sell us its cameras and to ensure its long term survival. It is doing so not by showing us half-naked women taking impossible pictures, but by engaging us in a conversation about where they want to go.
I actually quite enjoy being treated like an adult.


  1. trolling some of the better known photographers like Zack Arias and David Hobby for their vocal support of Fuji seems to be the flavor of the month. 
  2. I haven’t read anyone mention “cult” yet, but give it a few months.