This has been a thinking vacation. We’re here on our annual pilgrimage to Chautauqua, New York, and the Chautauqua Institution. It’s a place of learning and investigation, teaching and debate. And last week, as it happens, great introspection.
Each week here at Chautauqua is measured in by a different theme. Here’s the description of last week, week 5, the first week of our time here:
Picture This: Photography
In collaboration with Kodak and George Eastman House, this week will celebrate the history of photography, its contribution to and relationship with surrounding culture, its place in the art world, and its reflection of technological innovations that have reshaped the industry. We will meet photographers practicing their craft, and SEE this nexus of art, science, culture, biography, and history.
So, that’s the set-up. As a photographer, obviously I have some interest in this stuff so I was looking forward to getting schooled by these whomever they invited to take the stage.
Steve McCurry. McCurry? This dude’s images have been dancing around in my head for as long as I can remember. I felt like I was going to a job interview just sitting in the audience. If you aren’t familiar with McCurry’s work, the image at right will hopefully stir the memory banks: Afghan Girl was a cover on NatGeo 25 years ago and sets the bar for iconic cultural portrait work.
Ed Kashi. Kashi has been traveling the globe capturing the turmoil of world events for decades. Only in the most recent decade has he turned his camera on issues affecting our own country; in one of his most powerful displays, he played a short film of his work covering the aging population in America, a piece that evolved from his very personal efforts to care for this aging father-in-law.
Margaret Geller. Geller has devoted the better part of her career as a scientist to taking pictures of the universe. The photos from her team help to map the stars, to give us a better picture of where we are in space, and perhaps of equal importance, to further the development of wildly advanced electronics in digital photography.
I’ve been struggling with how to frame my own introspection this week. These are remarkably humble people given what they do. I’m struck by this feeling that they have come to a level of intimacy with their work that has surpassed the short term results, the quick glance at the LCD screen on the back of the camera, to be supplanted by the grander scope of their place in the world, and their role in reporting on it through imagery.
Kashi told this story, talking about shooting in Iraq last year. A father approached him as he was asking permission to take a picture of this family as they were struggling to buy food in a market. The father said, “why should I let you take my picture? Ten years ago, a man was here just like you. This man said I should let him take my picture because these pictures would help me change my life. It’s been ten years and my life hasn’t changed. Why should I let you take my picture now?”
Kashi was stunned. After taking a moment to collect himself he said, “I’m not important. I’m here to take your picture because what you’re going through is important. And if you don’t let guys like me tell your story through images, you’re going to loose the drumbeat of this issue. The world will lose the drumbeat of the issue. Your life might — or might not — change because of this one picture. The one thing I can guarantee is that if you don’t let us take your picture, nothing will ever change at all.”
What people like Kashi and McCurry and Geller do so beautifully is illustrate the incredible simplicity that getting up and going to work can have, if you are one of the lucky ones that has discovered the path to best apply your unique skills to change, to better the world around you.
For me, it’s made me evaluate the projects I take on, and those I don’t. It’s made me reflect on the clients with whom I partner. It’s made me double down on my own efforts to increase output on personal projects — the things that are important to me-and-only-me — and apply my own voice to the stories I’m passionate about, critics be damned.
We all have a role in this place, and a unique set of skills to support it. Whether we’re copywriters or photographers or accountants or plumbers, what we do has the power to change the lives of those around us. What I’ve learned from this week of discussion: my job is to live up to the potential of my own craft. Do you?