Monthly Archives: April 2010

04/10/10

Finding My Range

Lately, I’ve been shooting some work on a Voigtlander Bessa-R rangefinder I bought years ago for an assignment on board an oil tanker. I won’t bore you with the technical stuff. Let’s just say that due to their design, rangefinder cameras and their lenses are much, much smaller and lighter than SLR equivalents. Just look at the difference:

Canon and Voigtlander

David and Goliath - Voigtlander Bessa-R beside a Canon 1DS Mark II. Which would you rather carry around all day? (c) Roger Overall 2010

I’ve really enjoyed taking pictures with the Voigtlander – in fact, I’ve loved it. So much so, that I’m considering rangefinders for more serious commercial work.

Small and light – what more could a documentary photographer want?

Well, there’s a catch. My Voigtlander a isn’t a great camera. If truth be told it’s a piece of plastic tat. I’d need to invest in new gear: two bodies and three lenses. That’s where it could get silly expensive.

There are only two rangefinders still being produced that are worth considering: the Zeiss Ikon or the Leica M.

The Zeiss Ikon is made by the same people who make the Voigtlander, but to a much higher standard, and takes exquisite Zeiss lenses.

Thing is, it’s a film camera. Digital gives me so much more in terms of post-production control that I’m not sure I’d want to switch back to film for commercial shoots. Sure, I could scan the film, but that’s a whole extra step in post.

The Leica M does come in a digital version, the M9. It has a sterling reputation. Its optics are sublime and they come with exotic names like Super Summiluxicronbonbon.

Thing is, Leica gear costs more than a Renoir.

So, that’s not going to happen.

Yet.

In the meantime, I’ll enjoy the Voigtlander for some personal projects. Even if it doesn’t wind on film properly anymore and double exposes half the frames.

Leaving Cork. Voigtlander Bessa-R, 50mm Colour Skopar. (c) Roger Overall 2010

04/9/10

Fit

Photography is a physically demanding profession.

In the course of a shoot, I can walk miles. I’ll also bend, twist, turn, kneel and – occasionally – lie down.

It takes it out of you.

Moreover, documentary photography requires huge levels of concentration. I often end a shoot with a headache, such is the intensity with which I’ve been working.

When I was younger this wasn’t such a problem. Having passed 40, my body is less forgiving. It needs more care if it is to perform at its best – especially towards the end of a day.

That means a better diet and, more crucially for someone who used to be quite fit, a return to exercise.

A fitter me means better photographs at the end of a long assignment.

Here in Cork, I’m not the only 40+ photographer who’s been thinking about this. A group of us have taken up hill walking together – partly to get fitter, partly for the good company and bonhomie:

Donagh Glavin (left) and John Daly out on a walk in Co. Kerry a few weeks ago. Donagh is testing a new pair of invisible skis. (c) Roger Overall 2010

Donagh and John at the summit of our first climb. Just outside of shot are the 400 bearers we hired to bring John's rock collection to the top. (c) Roger Overall 2010

Brian Terry and John Daly try to overcome the embarrassment of wearing the same outfit. Incidentally, Brian would like to point out that he is nowhere near being 40. (c) Roger Overall

04/8/10

Sign of Things To Come

A short post today.

I’ve been working on an update to my website.

If you haven’t been there for a while, why not have a look? You’ll see some subtle and less subtle changes, all indicative of a new online direction.

04/6/10

Value

I photographed a wedding at the weekend where I was asked to stay a bit later and cover the speeches.

In Ireland, the speeches usually follow the wedding dinner, so I had a little downtime and a quick bite to eat in the hotel bar while the couple and their guests enjoyed their meal.

Not feeling very inspired, I ordered the beef burger and chips from the bar menu.

Now, I don’t know about you, but “Beef Burger” brings to mind an image. Quite frankly, to me it means the same as “Hamburger”.

This is what was put in front of me:

Beef Burger and Chips

Beef burger and chips for €11. (c) Roger Overall 2010

I did a double take – and then checked the menu again. What you see is actually what was described on it. I hadn’t bothered to read the small-print description properly before ordering. I just assumed it would be a burger on a bun. My bad.

But that wasn’t really what bothered me. What bothered me was the price: €10.95.

That’s right, €11 for a patty, a slack handful of chips and a dollop of potato salad hidden under a slice of tomato.

Eleven.

Euros.

And the glass of Coke and ice you can see there? That cost €5.20.

Five euros! I can get a couple of two-litre bottles for that at my local supermarket.

The entire meal, with a coffee cost me close to €20.

Which raises the question of price in relation to product. It’s an important issue because my own services don’t come cheap. For instance, my couples pay very close to €3,000 to have me photograph up to the speeches. And I’m undercharging at that. I’m actually developing a wedding product at the moment that is unique (as far as I’m aware) and which I will offer at prices starting at around €5,000, possibly €7,500.

Now, you probably think I’ve become separated from my marbles. How can I complain about an €11 burger, even if it does come without a bun and minimal chips, when I’m charging that kind of money for my own work? Pot. Kettle. Black. Hypocrite.

The answer is value for money.

For €11, I’m practically expecting Mishima beef … Okay that’s an exaggeration. I’m guessing a Mishima beef patty would be an absolute steal at €11. But you get what I’m driving at. Provided the price matches the value expectation, the consumer is happy.

Let’s look at what my wedding clients get for their €3,000 investment.

They get emotive documentary photography of one of the most significant days in their lives. They get my respect, which means I step back from the day rather than trying to run it for them. They get to live the day as they want to, and I record it in such a way that they will treasure the photographs all their lives.

The album my couples get will last a century at the very least, most likely double that. Being very conservative, that’s 100 (years) x 365 (days) = 36,500 days (excluding leap year days).

€3,000/36,500 days = €0.08/day.

So for eight euro cents per day a couple gets a highest-quality book of evocative photographs depicting one of the most wonderful days of their life. Their children, grandchildren and great grandchildren also benefit hugely from that eight cents a day.

Tell me that isn’t value for money. Certainly compared to a €11 beef burger – which was as tough as boots, I might add.

04/4/10

An Epiphany – Part 4

“You are infinitely important to people you will never meet, including yourself.”

How does this philosophy, which is at the heart of my photography, relate to my corporate clients?

I mean, just who are they that they have such far-reaching influence?

To be honest, they’re just regular businesses that you’ll find anywhere.

They do have one thing in common, though.

Pride.

Pride in their product. Pride in their service. Pride in their people. Pride in their customers.

Think of it this way. If you approach everything you do from the perspective that you and your product/service are hugely important to the end-user, how are you going to go about your business? Most likely, in the absolute best way possible. After all, you’ve got something to live up to.

I take the same approach to my business. Does that mean I run a perfect business? No. But the point is that I try to and that keeps me pushing forward, always trying to improve. I want my clients to get the best that I can possibly give them.

And that’s the kind of client I want to work with.

So when a company calls and tells me that they want to show their customers the inner workings of what they do, my heart lifts. Companies like Brittany Ferries, for instance, who deliver a first-rate service founded on pride.

How is Brittany Ferries infinitely important to people, including those they’ll never meet?

Think of it this way: they transport families across the world’s most hostile environment safely and in comfort. The sea is unforgiving. Believe me. I used to be a shipping correspondent. I could tell you a few stories.

Just imagine what would happen if a passenger ship didn’t arrive. That’s when the importance of a job well done is felt most acutely: in its absence.

Do the officers on the bridge or the engineers in the engine room meet every single passenger that embarks onboard? No. Are these personnel important to the passengers themselves and their relatives waiting on them at home? Yes.

But that’s easy to say for critical operations such as navigation and propulsion. What about making the beds in the cabins? That’s hardly “infinitely important” now, is it?

I’d disagree. If you entered your cabin to find it in a mess, you’d be unhappy, possibly stressed, most likely angry. Negative emotions all – possibly strong enough to ruin your day.

Finding your cabin pristine gives you a lift. A small, yet significant, piece of your overall experience onboard. Barely noticed when done right; hugely annoying when it isn’t.

That’s what I like to photograph. The inner workings of a company with pride – a company that sees beyond its doors and connects with its customers and clients.

04/2/10

No More Children

Children are great at weddings. They really are. They get so bored. That means you never know what they’re likely to do at any given moment. That makes for great photographs.

There’s a problem, though.

It’s too easy.

If you watch a child long enough at a wedding they’ll so something remarkable.

Cute and remarkable is a powerful mix. Tons of documentary wedding photographs rely on this. Lots of mine do.

Worse still, these pictures end up being entered for awards, where they do very well. I should know. Photographs of children (mis)behaving at weddings have been at the heart of much of my award success in the past 12 months. My two winning panels at the 2010 National Photographic Awards featured children almost exclusively.

Nice, but in a wedding category, shouldn’t the focus be on the bride and groom?

Yes, it should.

Don’t think I’ll be handing any awards back, mind. I haven’t won nearly enough to start being dismissive of them.

Instead, I’ve set myself a rule for this year’s entries into the heats for the 2011 National Photographic Awards.

Absolutely, definitely, positively, NO children in any of the photographs whatsoever at all.

Except this one:

Bride and Flower Girl

(c) Roger Overall 2010

04/1/10

An Epiphany – Part 3

“You are infinitely important to people you will never meet, including yourself.”

If you’re coming to this series of posts cold, you can find catch up here: Part 1 and Part 2.

So, why the addition of “including yourself”?

If you’ve followed the logic of Part 2, you’ll see that documentary wedding photography produced today will be of incalculable value to people in the future. That includes you. The human memory is a fragile and fickle thing. Documentary photography helps you relive your life – or part of it. Your future self will have great benefit from photography commissioned by you today.

Thing is, your future self is a totally different person from your current self. You live, you mature, you absorb experiences both good and  bad, you develop.

You as a 60-year-old is someone you can’t imagine today.

Your present self will never meet your future self, yet you could hardly be more important to them. In fact, if your future self could speak to you now they’d probably tell you to lay off the burgers, cigarettes and beer, and to put a tenner on I’m a Squeaky Horseshoe in the 2023 Grand National. They’d also be mighty happy you were forward thinking enough to commission a photographic record of your life today.