The Documentary Photographer

[This post first appeared a couple of days ago on From Bath to Cork with Baby Grace, the blog of my good friend Paul O’Mahony. When he heard I was going to the US to hear one of my heroes speak, he encouraged me to write about the experience. I’m glad he did.]

On Meeting Elliott Erwitt

Inevitably, somebody fell for it.

“What’s with the egg?” a lady in the audience asked.

“What egg?” Elliott Erwitt responded.

“You have a fried egg on your lapel.”

“I have a fried egg on my lapel?!”

It’s a fake, bought in Japan and pinned on to Erwitt’s dark blazer because he “likes to be interesting”.

Elliott Erwitt was born in Paris 82 years ago, lived in Italy, escaped from Europe to the US on one of the last boats out during World War II, became one of the greats of modern photography and has produced some of the world’s most famous and iconic images. He’s already interesting without the egg.

He was speaking at the Blanton Museum of Art in Austin, Texas, at the invitation of the newly established Austin Center for Photography. It was a rare opportunity to hear one of the greats deliver a lecture. In Erwitt’s case, possibly the only one I would ever get. So I flew thousands of miles to be there.

The timing of the lecture was prescient. When the talk was announced, I was going through a transition in my career – or, to be more precise, finalizing the direction of that transition. The consequences of the planned change were significant for my business, my development as a photographer and for my home life. I would be abandoning the safety (and mediocrity) of a bland approach to corporate photography based on the tastes of my local market in favour of a purely documentary approach based on my own preferences. Faced with the enormity of the implications that the change would bring, I was wavering.

The announcement of Erwitt’s lecture appeared to be a soft nudge – a gentle “Go on” from the gods of silver halide and pixels.

It would have been rude not to have bought a ticket.

And so I did, never more ready to hear the secrets of documentary photography, eager for the rich insights Erwitt would provide. Each one would be a beacon, a signpost to how to produce great documentary photography, culminating in a solid blueprint for my glorious future.

In fact, I learned nothing from the lecture that I had hoped for. Not a single thing.

However, while the lecture itself was barren ground, the experience of the lecture produced a valuable lesson.

First, though, I should explain why Erwitt’s presentation was so disappointing. To do so, I have to draw upon the memories of another disappointment.

Walking down Congress Avenue on the way back to the hotel after the lecture, “Layla” started up in one of the bars. The electric version, not the acoustic. You know, the real one, the plugged-in one. One of my all time favourite songs.

I remembered the last time I heard it. It was a while ago and Eric Clapton was playing it himself, in the flesh. Not just for me, you understand. He was playing at Cork’s annual month-long summer music festival and my wife was sent by a newspaper to review the concert. There was an extra ticket with the job, so I went along.

The concert wasn’t great, to be honest, but it was memorable – if only for that single song. Towards the end, Clapton and the band started up with “Layla” and played it to the finishing note, right through the long coda. It made the entire concert worthwhile. More, it added to my life experience. I’d heard an iconic song played by the man himself, including the tail end that radio stations generally erase.

OK, so it wasn’t the kind of event that was going to change my outlook on the universe, but it it’ll get into my top 250 on my deathbed. Somewhere around the 220s.

Which is higher than attending Elliott Erwitt’s lecture is going to get. That may not even scrape into the top 500. Which is odd at first glance, as I’m a big Erwitt fan; much less so of Clapton.

So, how does that work?

(c) Elliott Erwitt - One of my favourite photographs of Erwitt's, taken in Ballycotton, Co. Cork, where I was married. He confided during the lecture that he had barked at the dog to startle it, though he may have been kidding. His sense of humour is so subtle, it can be hard to tell.

For a start there is something magical about hearing a musician live on stage. We all know that. Whether you’re into opera or death metal, for the fan an in-the-flesh performance is a far superior experience than listening to an mp3 on an iPod. U2 and Springsteen don’t sell out football grounds for nothing.

Watching a photographer push a button on a MacBook to bring up the next photograph on an auditorium screen just isn’t the same. There are much better ways to view photographs to enjoy them fully. Exhibitions, books, your own computer screen.

What a photographer can bring to a slideshow of their work are the stories behind the photographs, insights into what drives their work, an explanation of their philosophy, their views on the overwhelming number of challenges faced by individual photographers and the industry as a whole today. Photography is a meaty topic.

Sadly, Erwitt didn’t stray beyond the occasional anecdote. Those he did tell were interesting rather than insightful, delivered with an engaging and charming dry sense of humour that mirrors his photography.

Ultimately, his hour-long lecture was a slideshow of mostly familiar work, many of which were the best-selling photographs he is known for and few of which were new work unfamiliar to his audience.

Paradoxically, that’s the formula that most bands apply when they perform live – if they have any sense. We want to hear musicians play their hits, the songs we all love, the oldies. Mostly, we don’t care for the new stuff, particularly if a band is trying something new. Give us “Layla” – and it had better be the electric version.

Attending a lecture by a photographer is the opposite. If they’re merely presenting a slideshow, it’s got to be of work we haven’t seen yet. We know the old stuff and most likely will have read about the story behind it – certainly in the case of work by a living legend like Elliott Erwitt, which gets lots of press.

Here was a chance to hear a man of stature, a photographer of intellect and intelligence, an artist whose work is both significant and beautiful, deliver a lecture. Sadly, all we got was a brief discussion about some of his most famous work, ultimately adding little to what we already knew.

Certainly, it didn’t help me with any grand scheme of documentary photography; its place, its role and its merits in a corporate environment. There was no blueprint here. This was a great of the profession simply recounting his greatest hits.

Oh well, at least I was able get a signed book in the foyer afterwards.

Standing in line with a copy of “Elliott Erwitt’s Hands”, I watched the people ahead of me fill out their names on blue Post-It notes offered by one of the ACP’s hierarchy.

Write your name clearly and fix it to the page you want Elliott to inscribe, we were told.

The older lady in front of me wrote down a quote she wanted written down and signed. At the signing desk, Erwitt’s minder took the book, glanced at the text on the Post-It, and removed it from the book.

“He doesn’t do that,” she said, frostily.

Older Lady had to make do with her name, just like everyone else.

I had thought it cheeky that she’d even attempted to put words into Erwitt’s mouth. Insulting even.

The thought sparked another, and another. Suddenly, I was richer for the experience of the lecture.

All right, I hadn’t heard what I’d wanted to. I’d heard what Elliott Erwitt was willing to tell. Just like he wasn’t going to validate anyone else’s words by being told what to inscribe, he wasn’t going to have the content of his lecture dictated to him. He did what he did, and if I didn’t like it, tough.

For 82 years, Elliott Erwitt had gone his own way, done his own thing and it had made him a great in photography.

There is no blueprint; there are no answers.

Success is grounded in uniqueness. Uniqueness cannot be taught.

If I’m going to make a success of corporate photojournalism, I’ll have to do it my way; find my own footing and make my own choice of lapel decoration.

I started work on a long-term project at the airport here in Cork today. I’m really excited about it and it’ll be another proving ground for the corporate photojournalism that I’m rolling out in the months ahead.

The first project was with Brittany Ferries a couple of weeks ago. The feedback from the BF office here in Ireland was tremendous and there is the possibility of an extended shoot next summer, which I’m hoping to extend to include photography of Brittany. Watch this space.

I have a couple of other projects in development, each of which is ambitious and each of which could transform my career. You can imagine how exciting that is. Unfortunately, I can’t say too much more about them just now, which is frustrating. Nevertheless, as the green lights go on, I’ll be posting extensively about each assignment.

Meanwhile, here’s a photograph from this afternoon’s shoot, which produced half-a-dozen interesting photographs. An encouraging start to the project.

Jet2 flight LS6875 from Milan/Bergamo arrives at Cork Airport, Ireland, 22nd October 2009 - (C) Roger Overall 2009

Sitting in the living room watching “The Making of UP” with my daughter. She’s booked in to see the film at the cinema this coming weekend. She can’t wait. Nor can I.

I’m reflecting on the last few days, all taken up with marketing and cup cakes.

First up was the BNI national conference here in Ireland. There were some phenomenal speakers and excellent networking opportunities. And the positivity was off the chart.

Mind you, it’s hard to be glum when you watch Dinah Liversidge walk on the stage, having just been told she spent 12 years in a wheel chair following a serious car accident in her early 20s. It’s even harder to be down when you here her talk about the time Virgin destroyed her electric wheelchair during a flight. It’s a remarkably uplifting story, best told by her so let’s just say that Virgin, and Richard Branson in particular, come out of it well.

Among the other great speakers were Frank de Raffele (who gave a superbly motivating and useful talk on the state of the economy, the future, and what happened when he took his daughter to see Cinderalla at Disneyland) and Iain Whyte (who last year rode a motorbike across the US – in a kilt).

From a personal point of view, the conference was great. I have confidence in 2010 thanks to some great contacts, which will help me build on some solid planning – provided I actually do the planning.

The general demeanour around the wedding fair in Cork that followed over the weekend was much less upbeat – in some quarters anyway. Looks like the wedding business is in for a rough ride in 2010 here in Ireland. This has been apparent among photographers for a while now. Everyone seems to be running at around 50% of where they were last year in terms of bookings.

My own thinking is that those photographers who can show a distinct style and offer unique products will ride out the storm. The casualties will be among the large group of wedding shooters who are pretty much producing carbon copy photographs in exactly the same albums as everyone else. The only way for them to differentiate is on price, and that’s a losing proposition for everybody – brides and grooms included.

Wedding photographers could learn a lot from the cake makers at the show. You’ve never met a more positive crowd (outside a BNI meeting, that is). Must be all the sugar or something. They seem to get on well with each other too, even sharing show stands, and are able to set themselves apart from one another by offering cakes that are unique to them.

They’re a generous lot too. We got a bunch of cup cakes to take away at the end of the show.

Chocoate cup cake from Karina's Cakes - (c) Roger Overall 2009

Butterfly cup cake from Flourishing Cakes - (c) Roger Overall 2009

They were gleefully received at home, I can tell you:

Vanishing cup cake - (c) Roger Overall 2009

My main take away from the last few days is this: be unique, plan and believe.

Here goes with the first wedding on the new blog.  A special welcome if you’ve found your way here from my old Altar Narrative blog.

These are some favourites from a wedding I photographed here in Cork in late spring this year. As usual, the couple were fantastic and I had a great time – except that I tore a huge hole in the seat of my trousers. Oh, the things that happen. You can read about all of that here: By the Seat of My Pants. In fact, have a read and then come back here. The photographs from the stairs onwards were taken with a gargantuan rip in my trousers.

(C) Roger Overall 2009 - Documentary Wedding Photography, Cork, Ireland

(C) Roger Overall 2009 - Documentary Wedding Photography, Cork, Ireland

(C) Roger Overall 2009 - Documentary Wedding Photography, Cork, Ireland

(C) Roger Overall 2009 - Documentary Wedding Photography, Cork, Ireland

(C) Roger Overall 2009 - Documentary Wedding Photography, Cork, Ireland

(C) Roger Overall 2009 - Documentary Wedding Photography, Cork, Ireland

(C) Roger Overall 2009 - Documentary Wedding Photography, Cork, Ireland

(C) Roger Overall 2009 - Documentary Wedding Photography, Cork, Ireland

(C) Roger Overall 2009 - Documentary Wedding Photography, Cork, Ireland

(C) Roger Overall 2009 - Documentary Wedding Photography, Cork, Ireland

(C) Roger Overall 2009 - Documentary Wedding Photography, Cork, Ireland

(C) Roger Overall 2009 - Documentary Wedding Photography, Cork, Ireland

(C) Roger Overall 2009 - Documentary Wedding Photography, Cork, Ireland

I’m just back from a shoot onboard a ship with Brittany Ferries.

What a great company to be associated with. First rate ship, and even better crew.

Brittany Ferries is a good example of the kind of company for which documentary photography works really well. It has a strong cultural identity and is proud of its corporate values. It shows in everything it does, from dealing with photographers to berthing their ships in tricky harbours. There is even carpet on the bridge of the flag ship, the Pont-Aven. This is a very proud company.

My 24 hours on board the Pont-Aven were incredibly rewarding, both personally and photographically. I met and spoke with some wonderful people (both passengers and crew), was given carte-blanche access and produced some very satisfying work. Here are some of my favourites from the quick preliminary post I did on board the ship. I’ll be posting a fuller gallery on the website in the next week or so.

The master and an officer share a joke on the bridge of the Pont-Aven as she leaves Ringaskiddy, Ireland - (c) Roger Overall 2009

Passengers relax in one of the many lounges onboard Brittany Ferries' Pont-Aven - (c) Roger Overall 2009

Passengers enjoy the sun and the view from the Pont-Aven's top deck - (c) Roger Overall 2009

An officer on watch marking the ship's position on an Admiralty chart during the night - (c) Roger Overall 2009

An officer in the office area of the bridge of the Pont-Aven during the night. A heavy curtain separates this part of the bridge from the main part to keep light spill to a minimum, allowing the crew to see more easily into the night, much like we drive without a light on inside our cars at night - (c) Roger Overall 2009

At Roscoff, and Irish truck ascends from the depths of the Pont-Aven to leave the ship - (c) Roger Overall 2009

(c) Roger Overall 2009

The ship had been carrying a load of fish, which had leaked on to the deck during the voyage from Cork to Roscoff. Crew spent half an hour meticulously cleaning the decks to prevent the next lot of vehicles and passengers from slipping - (c) Roger Overall 2009

I’ve reached a crossroads with my work. Actually, I’ve passed the crossroads, having decided which route I’m going to take, and I’m a few yards down the new track.

It’s exhilarating and at the same time a little scary. Leaps of faith always are.

It’s also tremendously liberating. It feels something like this, or at least I imagine it does:

Dolphins in the Atlantic Ocean - (c) Roger Overall 2009

So, welcome to the new blog, where from now on I’ll be covering all aspects of my work, regardless of whether it concerns  corporate commissions or private assignments. They’ll all have one thing in common: a documentary approach. That’s the plan, anyway. That’s the road I’ve chosen.