Sunday, May 30, 2010

Just because you say you are a pro...

Doesn't make it so.

There is more to being a professional photographer than snapping pictures and taking money. Certainly, one definition of a "professional" is that of someone who is paid for his or her services. If that's all it took, though, the ubiquitous teens snapping photos of tourists at every theme park in the country could call themselves "professional" photographers. You know the ones I'm talking about... the kids at the entrance of everything theme park you've ever been to who snap your photo upon entry and hawk them for $29.95 with a souvenir, commemorative photo frame? Sure, that's probably what goes on the kid's resume, but by no stretch of the imagination would any serious photographer consider that type of work "professional" photography.

Although a bit of an extreme example, that's what happens when anyone can buy a decent camera and has access to the internet. What was once attainable by only a few has now become commonplace; that is, good equipment and an accessible means to produce a product. In the old days (and, yes, I'm old enough to say that now) before digital cameras, it was expensive, time consuming and technically challenging to produce a "pro-quality" photograph. Now, anyone with a DSLR and a decent printer can produce a passable print and sell it.

Still, producing a passable print that someone is willing to pay for does not make you a professional.

A professional, like a doctor, or lawyer or architect, studies his or her craft for years before being able to practice. A doctor can't simply hang up a sign (or start his own website) and practice medicine. Similarly, a photographer doesn't simply open his new DSLR out of the box and become a professional. It's the same concept I wrote about when I relayed the story of shooting on the set at a Harley-Davidson motorcycle shop. A mechanic, after enviously watching me shoot gorgeous bikini models, said to me, "I should buy one of those nice cameras so I can be a photographer." I replied, "Yeah, and I should buy one of those shiny toolboxes, so I can be a Harley mechanic." He understood my sarcasm immediately.

Professionals have standards. Our craft has certain rules that apply in order for a product to be called "professional" quality. Exposure, lighting, composition, and style can vary from photographer to photographer (because, after all, we are still artists, right?), but there are certain basics that are agreed upon as essential elements of a professional photograph. Color balance, correct exposure, focal points, impact... all are elements that can be debated in a photograph, but all are essential to a good photograph and must be understood to be used (or not) properly. Professionals know this.

Professionals have associations to which they belong and which govern their actions. Although, as photographers, we're not tightly regulated like doctors or architects (photographs, although potentially powerful don't directly impact anyone's life like a botched apendectomy or a defective bridge design), we still have professional licensing, credentialling and governing bodies. Anyone who calls himself a professional should be willing to submit to the rules, guidelines and standards of the profession's regulators. Business and tax lisences are also a requirement if you are doing business as a professional.

Training, standardization and regulation are fundamental aspects of being a professional, but they are not the only criteria.

Besides training, standardization and regulation, a "professional" anything also has certain characteristics or qualities that should be upheld to claim the title of "professional." This is where how you present yourself or your product matters. A professional upholds ethical standards. A professional is on time and honors his commitments. A professional presents a professional product in a professional manner to his clients. A professional conducts himself like a gentleman on a set. These characteristics separate a pro from amateurs just as surely as training or credentialling do. Even a highly-trained, credentialed photographer can act in a less-than-professional manner. I recently won a contract for a shoot over an equally-skilled photographer because I was on time for the shoot, and he was late. It doesn't matter how good you are, if you can't "be a professional," you're still not going to go far in this business.

Train for your craft, know the rules, abide by the standards, and conduct yourself ethically. Call yourself a professional. But if you do, be willing to accept the responsibility that comes with the label.

Sunday, May 9, 2010

What's old is new, in the digital age.

I thought about titling this blog something like "Old dogs, new tricks," but that's not really an accurate description of where I'm headed with today's thought. There are a lot of us old dogs still snapping photos like we've done for years, but the digital age has changed what comes next. Before, we would have taken our film rolls to the darkroom to try out different methods to expose our vision; today, we take our electrons to the digital darkroom to create our artwork. The tricks aren't new... there's just a new way of implementing them.

From the very beginning of photography, artists have used different techniques after the shutter snapped to achieve the desired results for their photographs. In what we call post-production (or PP) today, photogs would spend hours in the darkroom with chemicals, emulsions and solutions bathing their negatives under different lights for varying lengths of time to produce different visual effects. Frenchman, Armand Sabattier, developed what is known today as "solarization" (more accurately, the technique is called the Sabattier effect) in 1862 . Legendary photographer, Man Ray, took the technique to new heights in the 1920's and 1930's.

By the 1960's, many photographic artists were experimenting with darkroom processing techniques, including cross-processing (that is, processing one type of film in chemicals intended for a different type of film) to achieve creative results with their photography. Dodging (reducing the light hitting specific parts of an image) and burning (increasing the light) techniques were commonplace.

Though commonplace by the modern era of film, these techniques were still very time consuming and labor intensive. The techniques for achieving artistic results had improved, but still, the results were often hit or miss. The outcome depended on the input. One image might work perfectly processed one way, while another image may not work at all with a particular technique, aesthetically speaking.

Then came the digital age. Fast forward through the early iterations of digital imagery to today, and you now have the tools that photographic artists toiled over for years right at the tips of your fingers. Using your computer and imaging software, you can create the same photographic effects in minutes, or even seconds, that once took days. The same solarization effects, dodging, burning, and cross-processing techniques have been captured by mathematicians and programmers and turned into the image editing software we can all access today.

Film purists (and there are still some among us) might contend that the old techniques should stay in the darkroom, but I believe, as an artist, that taking advantage of the new virtual darkroom is the way to go. I can produce similar results in seconds; my results are repeatable; and I don't have to expose myself (yeah, I said it) to hazardous, smelly chemicals that most probably shortened the life span of some of our photographic forefathers.

So go ahead and post-produce your digital images, and do so without guilt. Do you think we'd remember Man Ray today for the photographs he produced right out of the camera? No. His post-production techniques are what made him a memorable artist. The pioneers of photography paved the way for us, but it's up to us to press forward with a new vision of the future in the digital age.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

My clients; my friends

Certain responsibilities come with calling oneself a "professional." There comes certain rules, norms and standards with every professional occupation. Doctors have their Hippocratic oath; attorneys must adhere to the rules of the Bar; counselors must be certified by boards within their specialities... and the list goes on. One of the basic tenets of being a professional is maintaining a "professional" relationship with one's clients. Medicine, law, counseling, and many other professional fields demand their practitioners steer clear of developing personal relationships with their clients, for obvious reasons. Doctors, lawyers, and counselors must remain objective and maintain distance between their clients in order to give the best, objective advice they can. The relationship between a professional photographer and his or her clients, however, is different.

In order for me as a professional photographer to get the very best result for my client, I must get to know my client on a personal level. I have to know my client, not as a subject, but as a person, and often, as a friend. The relationship that a wedding photographer develops with his client is special. The photographer is allowed in the inner circle of family and friends on one of the most intimate and special days of people's lives. Remaining distant and objective is no longer an option. There must be a trust relationship between the photographer and the bride and the groom in order to capture the emotion of the day. An outsider would never be able to shoot with the intimacy and empathy required to truly memorialize the moment.

The brides and grooms and families I've shot over the years have remained my friends long after the ceremony or event I was hired to cover. That is because I take the time to get to know the family. I remember names, events, important details - just like you would in any friendship. That's how my clients become my friends.

I have to admit, even though I'm a professional, I still get choked up when I watch a bride dance with her father at the reception; when I see the mother of the groom watch as her son has his first dance with his bride; or when I watch the myriad of other intimate moments that happen when my clients, my friends, share their special day. One could argue that the tear that rolls down my cheek makes me less professional - I would argue it makes me a better photographer.

Here's to my friends who started out as clients...many happy returns on your special day.