The Documentary Photographer

Shh! (c) Roger Overall 2010

As it’s the last Wednesday of the month, the usual mid-week PictureBoo makes way for a plug for the latest episode of the Circle of Confusion.

We’ve tweaked a few things by adding more news items to the show and we’ve upped the tempo a bit.

We received a couple of emails about the volume level being too low on Episode 2. We were very conscious of volume for this episode and did playbacks on a number of machines, which all sounded okay. Hopefully that’ll be your experience too.

Producing the podcast has been a tremendous experience so far. It’s a steep learning curve, but we’re starting to settle into a rhythm. The recording and initial edit of the launch episode took, I think, about 8 to 10 hours – though a lot of that time was given over to eating an apple pie. Episode 3 took just over half that. It would have been shorter but for another apple tart.

Much of the time saved is due to Peter and me getting more used to chatting in front of a microphone. Our best conversations tend to happen off air, during editorial meetings or chats on the phone. We’d like to bring the feel and flow of those exchanges into the podcast. I think episode 3 is a step forward in that respect, though I for one find it hard to get past the Rode Podcaster microphone. It’s a big piece of kit and visually daunting with a spit guard attached, I can tell you.

See what I mean about the gear getting in the way of a conversation? (c) Roger Overall 2010

We’re very grateful to everyone who’s taken the time to listen. We’re conscious that you don’t have limitless time, so we appreciate any you choose to spend in our company. We’re also thankful for the comments we receive on the blog, which we hope will become a focal point for discussion about our profession. Lastly, we’d like to thank those of you who have taken the trouble to give feedback about the show – unless you were mean, in which case your mother was a hamster and your father smelled of elderberries.

Episode 3 of The Circle of Confusion with Peter and Roger.

I’m at a very interesting place in my career. I’m no longer at a crossroads. In fact, there never was a crossroads. It was an illusion. With the help of some very inspirational people I’ve come to understand that even the road-less-traveled is far too mundane. The road-that-wasn’t-even-there-until-you-came-along is the one to be on.

This has given my business outlook a remarkable boost. Firstly, I’m developing new products and services unique to me.  More about those as they come to fruition.

Secondly, it’s changed the way I view clients and how I approach potential business. I’d like to share a little of that with you here.

(c) Roger Overall 2010

The photograph above was taken as part of a trial shoot for a bakery here in Ireland. They have a lot of work for a photographer and I had been recommended. More or less, the business was there for the taking. However, I wasn’t sure that my style of photography was what the company was looking for. So I suggested a trial shoot.

The trial shoot, which cost the client nothing, would give them a good idea of how my style would translate their business into photographs, and at the same time give me a feel of how well we’d work together.

Why bother doing a trial shoot? Why not just take the money?

I deliver my best work when I collaborate with people who want to work with me. I already have this approach to the wedding side of my business. I am very open with potential bridal clients about what it is that I do, and how I approach a wedding. In the past six months, I have turned down at least half-a-dozen wedding enquiries, either on the phone or at face-to-face meetings. In these instances, I have been able to direct couples to photographers better suited to their needs and their tastes.

This transfers to the corporate environment as well. In fact, in this arena I hold a better hand. I can’t simply approach brides on the street. All I can do is make the market aware of my existence and hope I reach the right kind of couple. In the commercial sector, I can pick companies I’d like to work for and approach them with a proposal. My last two commercial shoots (one a medium-term documentary project, the other documentary shots for the packaging of a new product) were won this way.

As a result, my role as a photographer and my work is being valued. There is a real connect between me and the client, and between my work and their marketing goals. The respect I’ve been shown as a consequence has been wonderful. As a for instance, I’ve been kept in the loop about how my work is being used on the new product packaging. How great is that?

I want more of this (who wouldn’t?) and have a list of companies and individuals I want to approach with proposals, all of which excite me. At the moment I’m laying the foundations for what I hope will be some very interesting discussions in the closing part of 2010 and into the future. Some of these will lead to dream assignments with dream clients.

That is what I hope for beyond the horizon: assignments for clients for whom I am a perfect fit.

And the bakery?

Well, I have to hold my hand up. I called it wrong in a previous version of this post. I had taken a three-week silence to mean the match between us wasn’t meant to be. This afternoon, however, I received a very enthusiastic email concerning the trial photography.

Yesterday, I wanted to impress a new client in London.

I wanted to shoot an assignment in the morning and have the proofs online for the client before they left the office for the day. In fact, before I even boarded my flight home.

The plan was to do the post-production at Stansted Airport and upload the picture proofs before the check-in desk opened. It would mean using a Boingo wifi hotspot at the airport. Expensive at almost £4 for an hour, but worth it to make an impression on a new client.

The shoot itself went smoothly. More than smoothly. It was a dream. We finished early and the files needed very little post, other than a small colour correction. The proofs were pretty much good to go when I got off the train at the airport.

The plan was falling into place.

Just after 3pm yesterday, I settled in behind a smoothie and panini at Costa Coffee at Stansted to upload the files to our proofing server. An hour’s Boingo time would be plenty. After all, 70-odd 200kb files take very little time to upload at home using Eircom’s feeble no-band broadband, so I reckoned I’d have plenty of time to check the Spain-Switzerland game on the BBC website once Boingo had zapped the files on to the server. (By the way, how did that result happen?)

Unfortunately, the Boingo connection was shocking. I mean back-to-the-days-of-dial-up-snail-band shocking. After 40 minutes only a handful of 200kb files had uploaded. And loading websites like the BBC and Hootsuite into Firefox or Safari took an age. After an hour, it was time to go to the check-in desks, and the majority of the files hadn’t left my laptop.

I wasn’t happy, and tweeted my feelings.

An hour and a bit later, airside, and now well past 5pm, I tried the Boingo wifi again at Starbucks, having earlier in the City got a loyalty card that gives me free access. Or it would do if Starbucks at Stansted actually offered the wifi the card is supposed to afford you. Anyway, that’s another story.

I ended up buying another Boingo hour. Just to see if I couldn’t get the files up. I was traveling to Dublin early the next day and wanted to get the London job proofed and off my plate.

This time, the speed was phenomenal. The remainder of the files uploaded in a matter of minutes.

Nevertheless, I’d still missed the opportunity to impress a new client by having the proofs online before they’d left the office and I’d left the country. That chance to impress will never come again.

But there is a positive to this story.

While the files were uploading @boingo got in touch via Twitter. How’s that for use of social media? Would I email, @boingo asked? I did, and quickly got an email back from Lauren, who was keen to “make things right”. She asked for information about my location at the time of the dud connection and said she’d look into my usage data.

I have to admit I was impressed. Lauren had monitored the Twitter feeds and responded quickly, inviting me to engage with her. Then she’d replied promptly to my email. And now my complaint was being looked into, barely three hours after I grumbled on Twitter. She was starting to turn adversity in her company’s favour. Simply acknowledging me was a big step.

We had no more contact before my flight left, but I left the UK in a happier state of mind.

This morning, there was a email from Lauren. It was friendly. She apologized again for the problem I had experienced and told me that Boingo had credited my account with the fee for the failed connection.

I am impressed.

This is a terrific example of a company using social media to monitor its reputation. It is also a textbook example of how to deal with a complaint.

I’m still disappointed at the missed opportunity to impress my client. But I have to admire how Boingo turned a negative product experience into a hugely satisfying customer service experience.

In Boingo’s case, the first impression wasn’t great.

But the second impression was. So much so, that the first one is almost forgotten.

I have no formal business training whatsoever. Nor do I have any knack for business. For me, it’s complex and daunting and overwhelming.

Not surprisingly, I am not very good at it.

I’d be a whole lot worse at it were it not for My Secret Weapon.

I’m going to share it with you.

Ready?

Here it is:

My Secret Weapon. (c) Roger Overall 2010

His name is Aodan Enright.

He runs facilitated learning groups for entrepreneurs.

If you live within an hour-and-a-half drive of Cork City, you should give serious consideration to signing up to one of his SmarterEgg programmes.

I’ve just completed his latest series, aimed at enhancing the online presence of its participants.

I could write volumes of praise. I’m not going to. I’ll just say this:

Life-changing.

We laugh a lot, and seldom cry. (c) Roger Overall 2010

At Tuesday’s closing session we had Frank Hannigan of Goshido giving us direct and insightful advice. He was one of four terrific internet entrepreneurs Aodan sourced as guest participants for the programme.

Guest participant Frank Hannigan joins in the debate last Tuesday's SmarterEgg group session. (c) Roger Overall 2010

Now here’s a thing.

According to most of the Dublin advertising agencies I visited in January and February this year, documentary photography, however appealing, won’t work in advertising campaigns in Ireland. The advertisers are just too traditional.

They are not alone in this belief.

It was recently repeated to me by the marketing manager for an international parcel company.

I gave examples of campaigns abroad, most notably one for Emirates Airlines I’d heard about in a podcast interview with the photographer involved: Doug Menuez, a photographer I greatly admire. Not only that, Doug recently launched an agency to market his documentary work to the advertising sector – in response to demand for the kind of photography he provides.

It didn’t help. Ireland isn’t ready was the message.

Really?

In the seat pocket in front of me on flight EI 183 from London to Dublin yesterday evening was a copy of Aer Lingus’ in-flight magazine Cara.

Here’s a photograph of the full-page advert on one of the early pages in the magazine.

Vodafone ad in April/May 2010 issue of Cara

Now, I’m not for a minute suggesting that this is a purely documentary photograph. However, you cannot deny the photojournalistic aesthetic of the picture. You can tell the people on the shoot went to great lengths to get the right feel. London bus and some fellow in a high-viz jacket in the background. It all adds the the sense of reality.

By the way, if this is a genuine documentary photograph and you know the backstory, I’d love for you to share it here.

Back to the point I’m trying to make. Real equals honest, which is something we don’t often equate with advertising. At least, not in Ireland. Because, the agencies say, Irish companies can’t grasp the concept.

While Vodafone isn’t quite there yet (and I’ve no doubt a skilled street photographer could have produced a real documentary moment), it is a step in a direction that interests me greatly. After all, I’d love to shoot a documentary advertising campaign.

Compare Vodafone’s effort to this one by Bank of Ireland on the next facing page of the current issue of Cara.

Bank of Ireland advert in the April/May 2010 issue of Cara

Oh dear.

This is the worst of both worlds: a posed image that is so heavily staged it reeks of insincerity. In fact, I have a niggling suspicion it is a stock image, most likely American, to which the credit card in the girl’s had has been added in post-production. A tell-tale sign is that the card she is holding is the same as the larger one in the bottom left of the ad, right down to the name: Mr J Brennan of VBC Ltd. I have to say that Mr Brennan is a fine looking woman.

Of course, that could be JB in the background there on the phone.

The photograph doesn’t ring true, which undermines the advertisement. It doesn’t inspire. It doesn’t make me want one of these cards, even though I bank with Bank of Ireland and fly Aer Lingus regularly. A great documentary image taken in a real office would have been so much more powerful. Ironically, I spent yesterday shooting documentary photographs in a London office.

Even better, why not a photograph of people enjoying one of the Aer Lingus Gold Circle Lounges the card gives you access to?

Perfect material for a great documentary photograph.

I was in the Cubs when I was a little boy. Not for long, and not very successfully. I think I got a merit badge for tying knots, or being clean – one of the two. Anyway, I seem to remember the motto was “Be Prepared”.

Those words have been in my head for the past couple of days as I’ve tried to marshal my thoughts and resources for the week ahead. It’s going to be some week.

If all goes well – fingers crossed – it will go like this:

Planning for four clients, five cities, six days. (c) Roger Overall 2010

Monday

Fire-walking seminar shoot for EMC here in Cork from about 5pm to 9pm, followed by post-production back at base for a couple of hours. Send print files to the lab, ready for collection/delivery on Wednesday evening.

Tuesday

Fly to London in the morning. Possible shoot for a catering company run by friends in the afternoon in Twickenham. Yet to be confirmed.

Wednesday

Annual report shoot for the London P&I Club from 8am to 5pm.

Then it gets interesting. I’m booked on a 9pm flight from Heathrow to Dublin and on a 10pm flight home to Cork.

If I’m on the Dublin flight, then on…

Thursday

…I’ll be shooting in Dublin for a client I can’t yet name from about 10am until the afternoon. Then I’ll be traveling to Galway for a second-day of shooting with this client on…

Friday

The shoot in Galway will have to be done by 5pm, as I’ll need to travel back to Cork by train for a wedding shoot in Bantry on…

Saturday

On Saturday evening, I’ve been invited to celebrate the birthday of Queen Beatrix of the Netherlands. I shall need a drink after that week.

As I write this on Sunday evening, it is still unclear what is going to happen on Thursday and Friday. That makes planning the week erm… interesting. There are a number of issues to resolve. Not least balancing the range of equipment I take to London with airline baggage restrictions and the requirements of possible shoots in Dublin and Galway. I won’t be able to pop home to Cork if I find I’ve forgotten something.

I also need to manage the EMC post-production and delivery of prints in my absence if I do end up in Dublin.

And don’t get me started on the management of the image files. I have – touch wood – never lost a file from a commercial shoot. But if it is ever going to happen, it’s going to be during a week like this.

***UPDATE*** The Dublin and Galway assignments were confirmed this morning. Additional flights and rail travel booked. Catch me if you can: Cork – London (air), London – Dublin (air), Dublin – Galway (air), Galway – Cork (rail), Cork – Bantry (car). That’s the full set: Trains, Planes and Automobiles.

How do you attract attention in a busy marketplace?

Here’s one approach:

One a approach to catching someone's attention in the market. (c) Roger Overall 2010

That’s not going to work for everyone, though. Gun laws being what they are in most of Europe and all.

Moreover, clients are increasingly looking online. It’s a lot harder to pull a gun on the internet.

So how’s a fellow to stand out and be found amidst the hordes of photographer websites and blogs?

I’m in the process of finding out thanks to SmarterEgg‘s latest book programme for entrepreneurs here in Cork. Barely three weeks into the course, I’ve learned more about internet marketing than I did in the previous three years. It’s been a revelation.

Not everyone can enjoy the benefits of a SmarterEgg programme, so let me just say this one thing. Buy, beg or steal a copy of Gary Vaynerchuk‘s “Crush It!”. Better still, get the audio version – if you can handle three-and-a-half hours of Gary tellin’ it, yellin’ it, and riffin’ it. Utterly recommended.

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 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.

“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.

Yesterday I revealed that this is the keystone of my photography:

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

I’ve had quite a bit of feedback today. All of it good, especially when I’ve explained what I mean and how it could possibly relate to photography.

The best explanation I can give you is this photograph, which says it all:

My philosophy of photography. (c) Roger Overall 2010

I can’t explain it any clearer.

…

Okay, not everyone in the audience is getting it, so I’ll have to spell it out.

The concept works both for private individuals and for business clients.

Private individuals first. Answer me this question: Would you like to have great-great-great grandchildren?

Most of us would. I know I’d like to.

Thing is, you’ll never meet them. You’d like to think that your line will continue that far into the future, though. We’re talking around AD 2150-2200, give or take, it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that you are not going to live that long. I don’t care how much muesli you eat. You are never going to be invited round to their place.

Nevertheless, you could not be more important to them. Without you they will never exist. Just like you wouldn’t have been here were it not for your own great-great-great grandparents. Look at the cup cakes and the stand in the photograph above. Without each individual tier below it, the next tier up wouldn’t be able to stand. You’re the bottom tier, your descendants are the ones higher up.

And do you think that your distant descendants will want to know about you?

Of course they will. Unless you invade Poland or something, in which case they’re going to change their names and pretend they were hewn from pure amber by gypsy elves.

You get where I’m going with this?

More than any other form of photography, documentary photography is a wonderful way for you to connect with your unseen ancestors. For instance, the story of your wedding day told properly through photographs will reveal who you were, what you did, your history on that day, the emotions you felt. It is a window from the distant future all the way back to your past. It provides information that your great-great-great grandchildren will be so grateful for.

If you doubt this at all, just imagine having the kind of documentary photographs you’ve seen on this blog of your own great-great-great grandparents’ wedding. Tell me you wouldn’t cherish that.

That’s why it’s important to me that my private clients understand that their lives and their history have massive value, and because of that they are infinitely important to people they will never meet.

In part 3 I’ll explain why I added “including yourself”.

And in part 4 I’ll show how this works for businesses.