Through Trial and Error

A while ago I posted about my struggle with portraiture and how important I think it is for me to connect with the subject on an emotional level. While that might not be true for everyone, it’s still something that I struggle with. Through trial and error, I’ve learned to deal with my anxiety in different ways. One way that works for me is using an instant film camera to make the initial interaction less awkward and more friendly.

This often comes into play when traveling around places where the population doesn’t necessarily have the means to go out and get prints themselves.

While I was over in Niger this last year, documenting a project on paleontology, we ran into quite a few semi-nomadic families moving around the desert herding various types of animals. We would stop and chat through an interpreter to see if they’d seen any massive dinosaur bones when traveling. During these stops, I’d pull out the instant film camera and through a small amount of miming, convince them to pose for a portrait, that I would then give to them. 

I realize that I’m not solving any large-scale social problems, and maybe I’m really just doing all of this for myself, but It does seem like it makes people genuinely happy to receive a small gift like that and if it’s an easy thing to do, why not do it?

The Void Between

Portraiture is one of the most difficult types of photography for me. More difficult than shooting in the mountains, or in the back alleys of third world countries. I’ve spent a lot of time wondering why this is, and I haven’t figured it out. I’m an outgoing person, but there is something so raw and intimate with the interaction, it makes me uncomfortable. The void between the camera and subject is essentially nonexistent, leaving me with nowhere to hide. I’ve been trying to overcome my anxiety and certain things help put me a little more at ease, like in this instance, being longtime friends with the subject.

Luke Nelson, who I’ve known since college, is a talented ultra-marathon runner for Patagonia. He loves suffering, but more than that, he loves suffering in the cold and excels when the temperature drops. One of my first adventures with him was documenting a hundred plus mile run that he and Ty Draney did through the Frank Church Wilderness area in central Idaho.  I had photographed the beginning of their run and didn’t find them until well past the time they were supposed to have finished. We stumbled upon each other 15 miles up a drainage. I had hiked up the side of the canyon to get a better vantage point and saw them thrashing around in the brush at the bottom. I yelled and started running down toward them. Even after hearing my shouts and seeing me from a distance, both Luke and Ty weren’t convinced I was real until I was handing them a couple of apples I had pulled from my backpack. The two of them had been without food for quite some time and informed me that they had spent a couple of hours that night, huddled under a map, shivering on the banks of the Salmon River.

I think that seeing Luke at his absolute worst made the portrait possible for me. Allowing me to witness a part of him that not many people ever get a chance to see definitely put my anxieties at ease. Thanks Luke.

Authenticity

I don’t shoot portraits very often. It’s something I enjoy, however I definitely struggle with it. What helps is having an interesting subject. My friend Chad is one such subject.  Not only is he an incredibly talented wood worker, but he photographs well, although it could just be the beard.

I had another frame that was similar to this one, but without the scratch down the eye. Eventually I decided that I liked it more with the scratch than without. I think that in an age where perfection can be achieved with the click of a few buttons, there is something nice about authenticity. I’m not saying that touching up is wrong, but it’s a different form of art. Really, it just comes down to preference.