The Documentary Photographer

Another Sunday, another USP.

I make sure as best I can that there is a good fit between me and my clients

This one has cost me money. For instance, this year alone I’ve turned away three couples who were looking for disc-only wedding coverage. As I’ve explained before, disc-only doesn’t fit with the long-term outlook that is key to my photography. It is a bad fit.

In the past, I’ve made the mistake of not being clear enough when speaking to wedding clients. Last year, a couple asked me to redo a large chunk of post-production because they didn’t like black and white photographs. In spite of showing lots of b/w photographs at the initial consultations, it had never occurred to me that I should tell my couples that they would be getting a lot of b/w photographs. Now, I make that very clear from the outset.

In fact, I make sure that my couples understand exactly what they’ll be getting. If I don’t, how can they ever decide properly whether or not I’m the right match for them?

If I’m not the right person to photograph their wedding, no harm done – provided I don’t take the booking. Usually, I can point them in the direction of someone who is more suited to their needs. Everyone wins.

(c) Roger Overall 2010

This bottle of wine illustrates what I’m talking about.

Today is a special one. For me anyway. I’m 42.

Earlier in the week, I dropped into Karwig Wines to buy a celebratory bottle. Maurice asked me some questions and then recommended this one.

I liked it straightaway. How could I not?

1) It is Australian. I have very close and dear family in Victoria, where my sister’s ashes rest.

2) There is no doubting the vintner’s origins. I’m half-Dutch. I was practically obliged to buy it.

3) It is a blend of no fewer than five grape varieties. I’m a mud-blood myself.

4) I moved to Ireland in 2003.

It is a perfect fit.

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I process my images in a very particular way

I spent a lot of time in February visiting advertising and design agencies in Dublin. With only two exceptions, my portfolio was met with great enthusiasm. That was a very uplifting experience, having previously doubted that my work was good enough to show in the capital.

[Incidentally, having overcome that silly mental block, I'm working on plans to meet agencies outside of Ireland - two countries in particular are very obvious targets for me. More on that in the weeks ahead]

Back to my Dublin experience. At least half of the creatives I met commented on the feel of the images. All of them struggled to put it into words. “Depth”, “Silver”, “Three-dimensional” were all used, along with “Different”, the most commonly used description.

This is important. Digital post-production has given photographers great freedom and control over the final look of their work. Previously, we’d have all sent our work to the same labs and the post would have been pretty much homogenous. Wealthier photographers would have collaborated with individual printers to get the look they wanted, but most of us didn’t have that luxury. Now we do. That gives us another way in which to set ourselves apart from our colleagues.

A friend of mine, a fellow photographer, once gave me some of his files to run through my post-production cycle. When I sent the images back, he initially didn’t recognize them as his own photographs. That’s how powerful developing a personal post-production discipline can be.

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I’m big on black and white photographs

I’m almost reluctant to list this as a USP. A lot of photographers prefer to produce b/w photographs.

Still, my preference for b/w does part defines me as a photographer, so I decided to include it.

B/w suits what I do. My photography is all about the story. Often colour can be a distraction, particularly if there is a splash of red in the picture.  We are drawn to red above all other colours – there’s a reason stop lights and brake lights are red. And that can get in the way of what a photograph is all about.

By taking out the colour, the story often gets a better chance to breathe.

There are photographers, some very influential and significant, who will tell you this is all hokum. Jay Maisel calls b/w photography an insider joke, a private jape between photographers. A step away from reality. After all, the world is colour, not b/w.

Steve McCurry, one of the great photojournalists, shoots exclusively in colour. As does Martin Parr. And there are others.

Maisel, McCurry and Parr are legends. Maybe it’s just too hard for a mortal like me to shoot colour documentary photographs. I mean, my brain is at full load when it’s limited to just subject, narrative and light. Conceivably, it might start to bleed out of my ears if I asked it to do colour as well.

In the meantime, I’m drawn to b/w.

I prefer to shoot by the existing light.

Not so long ago, this would have read “by available light”, but the pedants in the photography world (they are legion, you wouldn’t believe it) have latched on to the phrase. According to them, if they have a four-head, radio-controlled studio flash system with them, then it’s “available”.

By existing light, I mean the light that exists in the scene, without adding anything.

It’s very hard to be inconspicuous when you shoot with a flash. At best, you draw attention to yourself. At worst, during a wedding ceremony for instance, you also draw attention away from the the thing you’re photographing. Either way, its obvious a photograph is being taken and it becomes intrusive. Imagine an orchestra conductor using a megaphone to direct a performance instead of a baton.

By not using flash, it is easier for me to blend into the environment. My presence goes unnoticed and people act naturally, which produces very true photographs of what they are doing. The best compliment I get to hear is when my wedding clients are asked why they didn’t hire a photographer.

That’s only half the story. There is also an aesthetic consideration. I love the way existing light looks.

Here’s a photograph I’m showing a lot at the moment for a variety of reasons. It also helps illustrate the point about the quality of existing light.

My daughter brushing her teeth. Houston, Texas. I loved the light and the way it made a commonplace daily event into something almost heroic. At the same time it is a very tender photograph. (c) Roger Overall 2009

I could have used flash to fill in all the dark areas, or even to light up the whole scene evenly.

It just wouldn’t have had the same feeling. Flash would have destroyed the atmosphere of the photograph.

Relying on existing light helps preserve some of the integrity of the scene as it was. That’s an important consideration for a documentary photographer.

Last Sunday, I started a series about unique selling points. Important to any business. My first USP was that I’m a documentary photographer.

My second unique selling point is this:

I use a 24mm lens for 80% of my work

One Sunday morning after a shoot I noticed something in my post-production software. I could organize the photographs I had taken the day before by the lens they were taken on. So I did.

To my astonishment, easily 80% of the pictures were taken with one lens: a 24mm wide angle.

The remaining 20% were taken mostly with a 50mm standard lens, with a slack handful using a 135mm short telephoto.

I’d always known that I favoured the 24mm, but never realized the extent. We’re talking borderline addiction.

Wide angle lenses suit documentary photographer very well. Context is important to proper storytelling, and wide angle lenses allow photographers to include plenty of that.

Wide angles also make me more unobtrusive.

That may sound counter-intuitive. After all, isn’t it more unobtrusive to stand well away and use a big telephoto lens?

Oddly enough, no.

If I stand amidst or very near people as if I belong, they soon forget about me.

My wedding clients are often asked why they didn’t hire a photographer, even though I was openly walking among their guests all day.

Same with my corporate shoots. After 15 minutes, people don’t see me any more.

If I were to stand well away with a big lens, people would feel spied on. That would inhibit them and change their behaviour.

Another reason I like my 24mm is that it allows me often to tell two stories at once. Often things happen concurrently that make for a really interesting photograph.

One of my favourite photographs from last year, and a typical example of a wide angle shot. There are two stories that combine to make one. The first story is the bride being readied to enter the church, made more powerful by the smaller second element of the reverend looking on. I was standing right next to the clergyman when I took the picture, but he had long forgotten about me. (c) Roger Overall 2009