One of my previous mentors and a blog I follow, is David DuChemin. A practicing photographer, photo-journalist and mentor-trainer.
On a recent post, “What makes this image work” David struck a note that parallels my own photo expression.
He talks about being able to de-construct the image to work out the elements that make it successful, and any that might detract from the story. Worth the read if you like to think about why some pictures are more memorable than others.
It is a process I’ve been fortunate to have been taught a long long time back when I was a mere wee broth of a photographer, and still wet behind the shutter button.
One of my great mentors, and a notable photographic friend and a staunch ally was, and I’ve mentioned him before in past blogs, John Harris.
John had a way of teaching that made people want to learn. He would often say about deconstruction of a photo, “What we are looking for is the photo inside the photo.”
John and I first met when I was, for want of a better term, acting as Stage Manager for a major photographic convention and National Judging event. Judging of National and International competitions is on par with any blood sport, and emotions, egos and competitive angst abound.
So it was not surprising that during the running of the event, as I was co-ordinating it, I was told, “John Harris is coming!” Fear and trepidation would be the hallmark of such an appearance. John will want to change the colour of the room. John will need those curtains to be pulled back (or forward, or removed), John, will bring his own equipment and the current gear will need to be removed. Don’t expect John to accept the furniture layout, it will need to be changed, etc, etc, and etc.
Quite the demand list it seemed. Pity is we were running on a tight time schedule, a budget that didn’t exist and we had a power of work to get through in the time allotted. Changes, however small, were not going to happen, let alone be tolerated.
And certainly NOT on my Watch.
“John Harris is here” midway through the afternoon, I heard in hushed terms.
I expected some demi-god. What I got was a pretty decent replica of my own Dad!
He did look the place over, suggest a few changes, we had some words, and eventually we arrived at what I expect could be called an amicable arrangement. The show went on.
Something between us Clicked—to coin a photographic metaphor. It was more than just respect. We would go on to build a great relationship, built primarily around our mutual love of image, and as seekers of the story within.
So much so, that John spent a lot of time over my photos, and their progression, I reciprocated. A process that benefitted both our work.
Together we ran classes for visual literacy, and general photo training.
I was scheduled to run a two day event in a small country town, and while the locals came out in good numbers, just as I was beginning I was a bit shocked to see John Harris come through the door. He’d heard I was there ,and had driven up specially for the day. I added him to the programme and as he was an accepted ‘local’, any friend of John’s was a friend of all. Suddenly I wasn’t just some passing stranger with a few slides to show, I too was part of the community. Such was John’s prowess.
A programme we developed together, and did successfully run for several years, involved image deconstruction. John had collected a large folio of tear sheets from a range of magazines, and we would pass them out to small groups at the event ,and have them highlight the elements of the visual. Much as David D is asking in his blog.
John’s skill was making the images meaningful, mine was getting each of the groups to communicate what they were seeing and experiencing. What lens, shutter speed, lighting, point of view, emotion, visual elements and the like, so that everyone could both share their experience with the photo, and of course hopefully use the gained knowledge in their own work.
David’s current image of the coffee barista at work is a classic shot for deconstruction. No two of us are ever going to agree on what should and shouldn’t be in the image. As John would remark, “If we all agreed, then someone could take One Photo of the Subject and we’d never need to take our Cameras out again. Art that is not growing is Dead!”
Thanks David for the insight, Thanks John for the memories.
A Black-shouldered Kite, hunting pre-dawn. Too simple? : Or simply Abstract?