I have a couple friends in town who are a photojournalists. Newspaper photographers. As many of you know, I spent more than 15 years doing that same job. My friends are good at it. Very good. I wasn’t. Not that I was horrible, mind you, but I lacked the requisite passion to be anything more than average. Adequate.
So, why was that?
Well, at least for me, being a photojournalist (and subsequently a university photographer) meant I was documenting other people’s lives. I was not part of the plot. I was on the outside looking in. A mere spectator peeking through the insulating and protective window of a lens. Relationships with my subjects were, for the most part, fleeting. I got the required photographs and moved on to the next assignment. There and gone. Quick click, thank you Dick!
Don’t get me wrong, I have the utmost respect for photojournalists and documentarians. Many have a deep and sincere passion for it and thrive within its limitations and possibilities. They play a crucial role in enlightening our understanding of the world in a way that words could never convey. For them, being on the outside is good. But for me, it simply wasn’t a good fit.
Landscape photography (my brand of it, anyway) is different. I do not feel like a spectator, outsider, or an intruder. I feel welcome and relaxed, and the relationships I develop with my subject matter are long-term and affectionate. I feel as though I am a part of the scene and part of the plot. An integral part, and my presence is not only accepted, it is crucial. I belong. It is that acceptance, that connection, which fuels my passion and, if I may be so bold, elevates my photography beyond the average.
The time I spent in photojournalism was an amazing experience. I covered a couple Super Bowls, an All-Star Baseball game, World Series, Stanley Cup, an airliner crash (less than five miles from my home in Pittsburgh), a major flood, many minor floods, many dozens of accidents, fires, shootings, chases, breaks, sprains and scratches. I made hundreds of portraits, found hundreds of feature photos, and even helped rescue a collapsed firefighter and a dog who almost drowned. Mostly, though, I just covered life. From the outside.
Photojournalism may not have been my calling, but it created a pretty sturdy foundation for finding my passion.
I hope you are fortunate enough to find yours.