10/8/10

The Right Words From The Right Person At The Right Time

Photographers can be delicate souls.

This one is, anyway.

It doesn’t take much to unsettle us. Self-doubt enters through the slightest of cracks in our confidence, and then feasts heartily on our belief, reducing it to mush.

We’re a bit like actors. We need affirmation and adoration. We push our heads back, raise the back of a hand to our foreheads and whine: “Tell me darling, I can take it, how was I?”

If the answer falls even the tiniest hint short of absolute adulation, our spirits crumble and we lock ourselves in our dressing rooms.

I set off for this year’s IPPA conference in comparatively low spirits. Artistically, I haven’t been able to get it going this year, so I thought. My work has been dismissed during the preliminary judgings for the national awards, and my entry utterly failed in the FEP awards. Worse still, I felt that I was struggling to hit form during assignments.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, nobody seemed to be able to get me to see sense.

Not Anne, my wife, who is usually very good at telling me to stop being such a wet stick of celery.

Not Peter, a close friend and insightful photographer, whose powerful logic was blunted by my artistic self-pity.

Not my wonderful clients who sent me a string of enthusiastic emails expressing their delight at their photographs.

Not the supportive crowd of photographers, creatives and friends who reach out to me through social media.

No-bo-dy.

Nobody, that is, except Vinnie O’Byrne.

Vinnie is one of the great photographers working today.

He is also one of the great photographic mentors.

He terrified me the first time that I met him. He has an intensity and an aura that I found utterly intimidating at my IPPA induction several years ago. There was absolutely no way I was ever going to be able to pull myself together enough to have a coherent conversation with him. This man is a photographer to the gods. I operate on the level of mere mortals. Surely he could barely hear me speak from down here.

It didn’t take long for me to learn that while Vinnie is a giant of our industry, he is a very approachable one. Not only does he hear you, he engages. His passion for nurturing and encouraging new photographers is legendary. He transforms potential into being. He will fight hard for photographers he believes in – very hard indeed. We are blessed to have him in our association.

Since that first meeting at IPPA HQ, Vinnie has become very important to me – as he has to many of us who have joined the IPPA in the past five years.

Last Sunday, he worked his magic again in a short one-on-one mentoring session during the IPPA conference.

I sat down into the chair next to him burdened with doubts.

When I stood up again, the doubts stayed in the chair.

He didn’t actually say that much. A giant doesn’t need to.

Thank you, Vinnie.

10/5/10

The Wall

I suppose it was a fairly predictable outcome.

At my age, if you push yourself hard enough, work long enough hours, take on enough projects, drive enough miles, don’t get enough sleep, you will end up running into a mental and physical wall.

I ran into it at around 6.30 pm today. Actually, I likely ran into it a few days ago but hadn’t noticed the bruises until now.

The past two months have been a roller coaster ride, with little let up in sight until November. It’s been phenomenal, don’t get me wrong. Nevertheless, the signs are there that I need to take my foot off the accelerator a teeny tiny bit.

That’s hard for someone like me. I drive with lead boots.

I must do it, though. If not for me, then for my family and my clients.

That means shedding some of the load. An immediate casualty has been the 10-10-10 project I referred to in the latest episode of The Circle of Confusion. It hurts, but it would hurt more to press ahead with it amidst a congested week and a backlog of post-production.

While 10-10-10 is off, it has made me more determined to make a success of 11-11-11, for which 10-10-10 was merely a dry run. And with 13 months to go, I can afford to be more leisurely in my approach.

Some you win; some you postpone.

09/22/10

Remembering

Imo

Imo. 21st January 1970 - 23rd September 2007

We have countless moments.

Eventually they are all lost.

Though some remain with us longer than others.

08/30/10

First Day Of School

I’m a big soppy softy. Seriously. And today was a big soppy softy day. Our little girl’s first day of school.

Quite how this has happened is something of a mystery.

Only a couple of months ago, I was holding her in the delivery room at St Finbarr’s Hospital. She had silver metallic eyes.

Now, mere weeks later, she’s off to school – proper school, uniforms and everything.

At this rate, I shall be walking her down the aisle by Christmas.

In the past I have been guilty of not photographing my own family life. That is a terrible admission for a documentary photographer to make. So, today, I brought my camera.

This is what I call her "You're An Idiot" look. I get it a lot. There is a chance I'll get it even more when she is a teenager. (c) Roger Overall 2010

Mummy knows how to get round it, mind. (c) Roger Overall 2010

(c) Roger Overall 2010

Helping mummy keep it together. (c) Roger Overall 2010

(c) Roger Overall 2010

(c) Roger Overall 2010

She just knows how to find the right light. (c) Roger Overall 2010

Tag - You're It. Best friends Lucy (left) and Emily playing after their first day at school. (c) Roger Overall 2010

07/20/10

It’s The Photographer, Not The Camera – Unfortunately

Until fairly recently, I wasn’t too concerned about my main camera – a Canon 5D Mrk II. It does the job. In fact, it does the job very well.

Thing is, it’s quite big. Not as big, by any stretch, as the 1 series Canons, but it’s still a honking block of camera.

More importantly, the lenses I use on it are brutal and heavy. I shoot fast prime lenses. Physics dictates that for a digital SLR, these lenses have to be chunky glass monsters.

I would like a lighter body, and more importantly lighter lenses. The lenses still have to be fast, mind.

A smaller camera will help me blend in better on a long-term corporate assignment I’m currently working on. It would also mean a lighter carry-on load when shooting overseas – something that is in the works.

It has become apparent that what I want is a Leica M9. The camera is compact and its lenses are among the finest in the world. They are also fast, diminutive and, yes, light. That’s because the Leica M9 is a rangefinder.

There’s another reason the M9 has caught my eye.

I mentioned not so long ago that I’d been shooting with a cheap Voigtlander rangefinder and had really been enjoying the experience, despite the fact that its film advance is temperamental. This has been echoing in my mind for several months now. I’ve come to recognize that I don’t enjoy using the Canon 5D Mrk II. It is a fairly soulless piece of gear. Functional, capable, reliable, inoffensive. It is, if I were being very un-PC, a bit Swedish.

Really, as an artist [***COUGH Ego! COUGH***], what you want is something more Mediterranean – something more… Italian. Artistic, temperamental, passionate.

Actually, that’s a terrible idea. That’s the last thing you want your camera to be.

Rather, you still want it to be functional, capable and reliable, but you also want it to be beautiful. Beautifully designed, beautifully crafted. You want to purr over its mechanical perfection as much as its erudite handling.

You want a Leica.

I’m thinking of switching.

Two things are holding me back:

1 – Cost. An M9, with a film M7 as back up, and say a 35mm f1.4 and a 75mm f2.0 lens would upset the bank balance by close to €15,000.

And to a lesser extent:

2 – Autofocus. While not spectacular in that department (actually, it’s shocking), the Canon 5D Mrk II is an autofocus camera. Leicas aren’t. They are old school. You need to focus yourself. I’ve come to rely on autofocus, most of us have, so I’d need to reschool. Not an insurmountable problem, but one that does need consideration.

Being honest, item 2 is a nonsense. I just added it in to make it look as if money wasn’t the only thing holding me back.

€15,000 is too big a hurdle.

Sigh.

Still, you’ve got to have dreams, eh?

04/20/10

8 Out Of 20 Years

The weather here in Co. Cork is beautiful this morning. Clear blue skies, and a freshness in the air.

Eight years ago, the weather was horrid. The visitors to Ballycotton on 20th April 2002 wouldn’t have known the village looked out over a bay. It was hidden by a heavy mist. It was also windy. Very windy. It almost took my new wife’s veil clear off. Lord knows where it would have landed. Connecticut most likely.

She has been a rock in my life, never more so than in the last couple of years, which have put a heavy strain on me. She lifts me and nurtures me.

She is gracious, even when she’s grumpy. She never lets on. She always puts others first.

She is kind. I cannot even describe how kind.

She is loving.

She is giving. She has a lot to offer the world and a lot she would like to do, yet she has put it all on hold to help me achieve my dreams.

She is a phenomenal mother to our daughter, whose positive traits are all hers.

I cannot quite understand that she said “Yes” when I proposed in New York’s Grand Central Terminal in 2000. Mind you, the signs were there: she’d been at my side for 10 years at that point.

So while today is our 8th anniversary, we’ve been together 20 years.

I do so love her.

Next stop Connecticut. Photograph by: Peter Jan Haas