Tips for Top Shots

Photography, like ventriloquism, has a slightly uneasy relationship with radio, but when I heard John Wilson was going to be interviewing Terry O’Neill (celebrity photographer), Don McCullin (war/conflict, now landscapes), Harry Benson (politics) and David Bailey (fashion) for Radio 4’s Front Row, I knew it was going to be a treat.

These four were chosen for their roles as a new wave of photographers who shot and helped shape the 1960s, although I found it slightly incongruous that they were being asked for their top tips on how more of us could get perfect “snaps.” And yet, this premise did illicit some interesting answers.

O’Neill, for example, apparently hates cameras, “I only have a little Leica and a Hasselblad,” he says. Is that ALL you have, Terry? I’ll dream on…

What was also interesting about O’Neill though is that he, like Don, never takes pictures at family events, and I have to sympathise there. Terry says it’s because when he takes a photo he wants the lighting and everything to be just right, and he’d hold everything up if he tried to take pictures at parties or on holiday.

Like Terry O’Neill, Don McCullin also rarely takes any kind of family photo. His wife complains that he never takes pictures of her. His reason (excuse?) is that since his cameras have been used to photograph conflict, his gear is somehow contaminated, and he just wants to shut it all away in its cupboard until he needs it again. Of course at 76 years of age Don isn’t shooting conflict any more, but look at his Somerset landscapes and you’ll see the work of a man who is clearly at conflict with himself. Of the four photographers interviewed, it would seem Don is the one most haunted by what he’s witnessed.

Harry Benson made his name, rather like Terry O’Neill, photographing the likes of The Beatles, but where Terry majored in celebrity portraiture, Harry developed his career in politics. Among his most famous photos being the assassination of Robert F. Kennedy in 1968, and he talks about the experience of getting the shots (if that’s not too cruel a juxtaposition) of the presidential candidate as he lay dying, or already dead, in the arms of his wife. Harry says, “I didn’t even bother going to the hospital. I knew it was over. Anyway I felt I’d done my work for the night.” That was an incredibly telling line.

If you were to ask people on the street to name a famous photographer, David Bailey’s name would probably crop up most often. Famous for his style of fashion photography, where he moved the whole genre away from the static studio to the street, his approach has always seemed less reverential, and in interviews where he compares his career to the likes of Don McCullin, you can sense the relief he didn’t go to conflict zones to make his name. Maybe this explains why in this interview he delves back into his school days to find conflict and discomfort. Doesn’t seem to have done him any harm…

In terms of ‘tricks from the professionals’, Bailey does impart useful knowledge. Something I’ve seen photographers fail to do, and I’ve failed to do once or twice myself, is engage with the person you’re photographing. Talk to them, find out what makes them tick. You’ll always get a better portrait that way.

From Terry O’Neill we learn to always fill the frame with what you want to say. That’s a lesson I learned from my first picture editor, who used to scream FILL THE F*****G FRAME! at me (only for my first two assignments, after which I learned).

I like Don’s advice, that if you’re likely to get killed taking a picture, you better make damn sure the exposure is correct. He would leap up, take an exposure reading, then set and frame the pictures before pressing the shutter button. All this under heavy fire.

Harry’s advice, to always stay at the centre of the story for as long as possible, is also good advice. Not to get distracted by peripheral things.

Finally, David Bailey’s advice, apart from remembering to talk to your subject, is to shoot against a plain backdrop and shoot black and white. As he says, “With colour you look at the colour before you look at the message. With black and white you go straight to the message.” Of course shooting black and white isn’t a luxury we have for every assignment, but that quote is a useful one for making the distinction between colour and monochrome photography.

Photographer Don McCullin

Don McCullin in typically down-beat mood during a presentation at the National Museum of Photography, Film and Television, circa 1991

Hear the full interview here, I highly recommend it.

What IS a great photo any more?

The internet is crammed to the gills with photos. It’s like a gigantic, dusty attic, stuffed with boxes and boxes of malingering prints, negs and trannies (not that kind, you bizarre people) that were looked at and maybe admired once, and now sit there going curly at the corners, the colours fading, the mildew gradually engulfing them, while some unseen hand throws ever more photos in through the hatch, thousands at a time.

Well ok, the internet doesn’t suffer mildew, and digital pictures don’t fade, though perhaps one day they’ll become unreadable by computers, but I’d bet you a Great British Pound that 99.9999% of photos online get looked at a few times, and are now being seen by no one.

Sites like flickr, deviantart, facebook and myspace host millions of photos taken and shared by members of the public. Some of these sites allow comments and ratings, and the words I see again and again within the comments are “great”, “brilliant”, “awesome”. But what do these words mean any more? They’re used so casually to describe the attributes of the photos (and in the case of deviantart, usually the attributes of the nude model in the photo) that these words have lost all currency.

There are great photos that many of us will be familiar with; from the First World War to current conflicts. The Farm Security Administration project, carried out during the Great Depression in America in the 1930s and 40s was a rich source of photos which bear scrutiny and critical acclaim today.

Not all great pictures have been taken in conflict and famine. Helmut Newton, Henri Cartier-Bresson, Larry Benson, Man Ray, were working in studios and peaceful locations, but still managed to produce iconic work. Awesome might be too gushing, and I’ll punch anyone who says “great capture”.

And I’m sorry if my article is a little thin on jokes this week, but I do wonder what we think a great picture is now? Why say a picture is great, when what we actually mean is it’s just nice? Yes, that word which damns with feint praise, but it’s mostly true, because surely for a photo to be truly great, it has to have a resonance beyond a few dozen, hundred or even thousand people looking at it on their computer screens for 15 seconds while they sip a cappuccino before clicking onto the next photo or back to facebook. To be truly great, I say a photo has to distill something of its time. It must transcend all the barriers that prevent an OK photo from becoming an icon.

a couple hug in an english pub

A nice photo, but not much resonance beyond its fine black border.

Perhaps you’ll think I’m being too hard on current photography and photographers, but I’m actually being quite hard on myself. I don’t believe I have ever taken a truly Great photo in my 20+ year career. There are other photographers, some thankfully still alive and working, who have taken dozens, even hundreds of photos which are truly great because of what they say and their ability to convey a message and emotion to the viewer, and unlike so much flickr fodder, tell us something fundamental about the human condition, and will tell us something substantial about our times in decades to come.

Perhaps I’m being harsh on the digital photography culture, but my fear is that in the tsunami of digital images, we’ll lose sight of what really great photography looks like. In a world where millions of photos are described as great, great becomes average, and we surely need to keep a separation between the great, and the merely good.