A few months back, when I started blogging, I had plenty of time to write long posts about my images and share my thoughts about the entire image-making process. I had time, because less than six months ago, business was slow. Suffice it to say, the last three months have been crazy-busy, which for a free-lance photographer, means work, and consequently, blogging takes back seat to taking pictures. Simple enough.
At the beginning of 2009, the two words on everyone’s lips here in the UK were “Credit Crunch.” You couldn’t swing a cat without hearing them. I think that the US simply called it a recession, but the Brits love their alliteration, so credit crunch it was. Yes, the financial crisis was systematically far more serious than a simple crunch, but why call something by a much more mundane name when credit crunch rolls off the tongue so much easier. It’s a bit like calling sodas fizzy drinks or calling a ski mask a balaclava, if Brits can find a fancier way of saying something, then they will. Mind you, they did invent the language, so I suppose we should leave it at that.
The credit crunch was for me a time for a bit of reflection, but mostly one of action. My magazine work dropped significantly, companies were reluctant to invest into marketing, and even private clients tightened their purse strings. To lift a phrase from the Queen herself, 2009 turned out to be an Annus Horribilis with regard to photography work. Marketing my business became my full-time job. Networking, emailing, phone calling, blogging, twittering and more networking became my standard operating procedure. At one point, I realized that I had actually become a professional networker and had lost sight of my real business, taking pictures. Still, I continued pressing forward with another meeting and a new twitter post, all the while anticipating the next gig.
During the last week of photography school at SCCC, our instructors sat our class down and imparted their advice. “Give yourself five years” one said. “You’re only as good as your last shot,” said another. The words of my instructor Robbie Milne, however, left the biggest impression on me, “Just Shoot.” When times are tough, pick up the camera, and shoot something, anything. Two simple words that I couldn’t even begin to comprehend at that time. Upon leaving school, work began coming in. Times were good. Even when Lee and I moved to London in 2006, work came. But then came the credit crunch. Commissioned work became limited at best. Marketing and meetings got me the right connections, but there was something missing. Then one morning at 3:45 am (or thereabouts), Robbie’s voice chirped up inside my head, “Just Shoot.” Aha! I thought. But what?
One of the first struggles I had to overcome when I left university was my perfectionism. I was obsessed with trying to achieve perfection, and became paralyzed by my fear of imperfection. My paralysis became apparent when I was working as an intern at a weekly commuter newspapers in Minneapolis. I’d been given the assignment to write a profile about a comedic actor in a local show. I interviewed him, wrote the article, and then sat on it. In retrospect, the article was less than insignificant. It was not a life or death article, it was a profile of a comedic actor in Minnesota; most likely a highly-disposable fluff article that would end up with a coffee ring and a hand-drawn mustache. At the time, however, my fear of imperfection and the significance I placed on the article itself was insurmountable. I’d never written an article for a newspaper before. This would be my first published piece. What if it looked bad? Would people laugh at it? Was I out of my league? Still, I was overcome by my fear of imperfection and continued sitting on the article for a few more weeks.
About a week before I was due to move to Seattle from Minnesota, I got a call from the editor. He was kind but firm, the actor’s play was opening in a week and the article needed to run the following Tuesday. I read through it once more, popped the floppy disk in the post (long before email). A couple of weeks later while living in Seattle, I got a package from the editor. It was a copy of the article, and it looked pretty good and provided me with a tactile reminder that life doesn’t just happen, but you have to make it happen. This was the first real-life lesson I had in “Just Shoot,” and I had been lucky to have had such an understanding editor.
When I moved into the business world, I took the lesson from my internship and ran with it. I learned quickly that the people who asked just enough questions and then took decisive action were the ones who got the most done. In an entrepreneurial environment, perfection doesn’t exist, and perfectionism can’t be tolerated. Yes, a team needs to work together to produce the best in its class, but in a fast-paced environment, waiting for perfection means imminent death. Sometimes a company just needs to act, and make improvements in the dot release. In the software world, it became known as “Just Ship!”
Photography is no different. “Just Shoot” has become my mantra. If times have been slow and the phone hasn’t been ringing, it starts the moment I click the shutter. It’s as if there is some cosmic energy out there that never fails. Mark meet camera, camera meet Mark. Go! Just shooting is the perfect way to unleash latent photographic potential and transform it into reality. It never fails. The results of just shooting have varied over the years, but each time I learn something new. Whether it is testing out a new lighting set up, working with a different type of film, or simply exorcising visions from my brain. It gives me the opportunity to create and also define the next steps I will take.
Payback for just shooting is not necessarily immediate. Yes, the phone starts to ring and work comes in, but the intent of just shooting is to create a lasting image, and one that hopefully inspires people to want more. Lee and I worked incredibly hard on the Howdy Partner shoot. We cast multiple models, bought wardrobe, built an elaborate set and spent a full day in the studio shooting. Afterwards, not a single one image was licensed. The resulting images ended up first on my web site and then quietly made their way to my hard drive. Then one day, I showed I showed one of the shots to a prospective client. She was sold. That was what she wanted, only different. All of the work that I’d done before had more than paid off. Together she and I created some lovely pieces to promote her business.
So back to Tooting, London, 3:45 am, early 2010. I needed to just shoot. A year ago I met the actor Charlie Condou at the Terrence Higgins Trust auction. I’d liked his work in Gimme Gimme Gimme and we got chatting. I asked him if he’d pose for me and to my surprise, he said yes. The scene needed to be set. When Lee and I moved to Tooting a few months back, we started visiting a local place just a few minutes from our house called The Tram Shed. It is one of my favorite places in London. The interior is very cool, hip–but not over the top. Just a good place to hang out pretty much any night of the week. When I first walked in, I knew it was a place that I wanted to do a shoot in. I also have a penchant for feather dusters (If I can’t wear a boa in public, at least let me have a feather duster!) I found an amazing lime green one on a trip to Canada. It was a perfect fit: handsome Charlie with a vibrant feather duster.
Charlie has a wonderful face, I wanted to photograph him ala Hurrell. Working with a single, undiffused light, I worked to emulate Hollywood glamour from the 1930s. His bone structure and his strong nose fared well with the contrasty lighting.
Working with just daylight, I also created this more casual, boy next door shot. Doing this shot pushed me in new directions. I’m not really a fashiony type guy, but I can appreciate great styling. For my limited Just Shoot budget, I got the opportunity to procure the wardrobe, photograph it, and then casually return the clothing afterwards. Um, er…I know that professional stylists do this all the time, it just pushed me right out of my comfort zone though. Nonetheless, it was all part of the learning process.
And what was the net result of this endeavor? Business is back on target. Work has picked up and I’ve even finished shooting one of the biggest projects to date. While I am sure I can market and promote myself until I am blue in the face, remembering the wise words of Robbie has re-charged my batteries. Here’s to 2010!
