When In Rome....

Is everything in your life done on some sort of efficient agenda?  Are all your shoots scheduled?  Are you proud of your time management skills?  Do you see value in walking around with no conscious intention?

There's tremendous creative energy in throwing away "productivity" and replacing it with quiet, active observation.  When I lose the thread of excitement in my art (as opposed to work) I know I can get it back by repudiating the socially engrained work ethic that haunts most of us.  The only way for me to move forward is to not think about "moving forward."

I pick up a camera and a lens and some film or a memory card and I hit the streets and wander aimlessly. Sometimes I just observe stuff.  Sometimes I have a reaction to what I see.  It could be excitement or fear or a cynical sense of boredom; but some sort of reaction.  That's when I photograph.

A number of years ago I finished up some corporate work and I felt burned out.  Used up.  My store of visual energy was used up in the service of injecting passion into temporary, and ultimately unimportant materials.  I told my wife I needed to recharge and I packed a small bag and headed to the airport alone.

I was thinking of going to Mexico City but at the last moment I decided on Rome.  I had no agenda, no itinerary.  I landed at the Leonardo Da Vinci airport, took the train into town and booked a room at my favorite old hotel, the Victoria.

Every morning I got up early and ate quick breakfast in the dining room.  I carried a Mamiya 6 camera with a 75mm lens and stuck a 50mm lens in the pocket of my jacket.  In the opposite pocket I stuffed in ten rolls of 120mm Tri-x or T-max CN.  This gave me 120 potential images per day.  120 chances to find something fun.

But I never went out thinking, "I need to find something to shoot."  Instead I went out thinking, "I want to see what life looks like in Rome."  And if I saw something that caused a reaction then that was a bonus.  I walked and ate and shopped and shot for the better part of eight days.

When I came back home I had images that echoed what I felt during my visit.  During my walks.  I never thought about the images as stock.  I never justified the trip as a tax write off.  I just responded to things that made me think or feel.

Using one simple camera and one or two lenses, along with the formalist discipline of locking into one kind of monochrome film, focused me in a way that digital doesn't.  It limited choice so that my brain could process the emotion instead of running mental sub routines concerning color balance or contrast.  It freed me up to respond in a less encumbered way.

I have a camera I am using right now that I'm trying to sculpt into the shooting cameras of those days.  Black and white.  One aspect ratio (square).  One ISO (160).  One lens (Normal focal length).  If I limit choice I expand reaction.  My brain might work differently from yours.  That's what makes my vision mine and yours yours.

I'm just describing what works for me.

The top image was taken while walking down an alley.  The gentleman was totally aware of my presence.  I smiled and brought the camera up to my eye.  When I clicked the shutter and then let the camera drop down to my waist we both nodded at each other and moved on with our days.

The bottom image was taken during a crowded day at the Vatican.  It's part of a series that I love because it shows how integrated faith is in the daily lives of some Romans, as well as their proximity to the symbols of their faith.

I went to Rome to see things in a fresh way.  Next week maybe I'll go to San Antonio, Texas and walk around downtown.   Readjust my eyes to a new year.

A non-photographic mentor. Learn more from people who know more.

Mike Hicks, circa 2007.  Austin, Texas.

If you woke me up in the middle of the night, at gunpoint, and demanded to know who has taught me more about photography and creativity in general, I would blurt out, "Mike Hicks."  Which is interesting because Mike is not a  photographer.  Mike is the consummate "Renaissance Man" of advertising and creativity.  I first met Mike back in the early 1980's.  He ran the most respected graphic design firm in Texas, Hixo, and he taught graphic design at the University of Texas at Austin, College of Fine Arts.

I didn't meet him in either of these contexts.  I met him at a restaurant called La Provence.  It was an amazing restaurant for Austin, at the time.  Patricia Bauer-Slate, the founder of the world famous, Sweetish Hill Bakery, decided Austin needed a classic, haute cuisine restaurant and for several years her restaurant set the standard for Texas, a land festooned with lots of chicken fried steak, BBQ and Tex-Mex food.  It was amazing.  And Mike is always at the forefront of good food in the capitol city.  We were introduced by Patricia one evening.  My wife and I were already in awe of Mike for his design work.  Now we came to know him as a "foodie".  In fact, many years later, he gave me a copy of the Larousse cookbook as a birthday present......

But this is a story about photography and mentors.  For a while I ran a competing ad agency and, when the opportunity presented I convinced Mike to joint venture with us on a big, multi-year project.  His command of the field was amazing.  His concepts were both timeless and cutting edge.

A few years later I left the ad industry to become a photographer and Mike was one of my first and most loyal clients.  What I learned from him came from almost weekly assignments for an ongoing, black and white newspaper campaign for a major retailer.  Once a week I would get a comp from his agency and I would be required to find the props and models and shoot, with rigorous precision, the exact set up described by the comp.  In those days we were shooting most studio shots on 4x5 film.

Sometimes Mike would indicate on the comp a very specific lighting style.  This was before the days of the internet and sometimes I would research and refine techniques for days before I got them to work.  One time I was asked to illustrate a baseball for an ad for Nolan Ryan's book.  The baseball needed to be clear and crisp but look as though it had been thrown so fast that it was on fire and trailing smoke.  Easy enough against a black background, but our whole campaign was shot against white.

I researched everywhere I could.  I called every pro I knew and came up blank.  Finally, after destroying ten or so baseballs I invented a technique that gave Mike exactly what he wanted.  When he looked at the 11x14 inch fiber based print (that's how we presented back then) he chuckled a bit and said,  "I thought that would be impossible.  Nice job."   This happened more than once.

I didn't learn anything directly.  It has all been osmotic.  But I've learned so much.  The biggest thing I've learned is that clients look at things differently from photographers.  We need to make work that works well for both sides of the camera.

Another thing I've learned from Mike is the importance of constant, personal reinvention.  He made the leap from analog to digital as seamlessly as a teenager learns a video game.  He's been able to translate a print sensibility into television commercials. He's a brilliant writer for publications like Graphis and  CA. And he understands the importance of a good lunch.

He's in his early sixties and has the energy of a 30 year old.  He never lives in the past.  Doesn't talk about the good old days.  He looks ahead, figures out how to do things in new ways and always finds a way to make it profitable.

You could do worse in choosing a role model.

I asked Mike to come by and let me photograph him a few years ago when some company lent me a medium format digital camera to test.  I like this image because it shows his relentless intensity.  Maybe it will be lost in translation but it is one of my favorite portraits.

Mission Accomplished.....but not in time for the holidays.

The title, the cover, the ISBN number and all the guts are done.   I took a deep breath, celebrated with the Wonton Seafood Soup at Lotus Hunan on Bee Caves Rd. and then got back to work on the next project.


First, the self congratulatory, self pat on the back:  Four books in two years.  Yay! Now a bit about the book:

There are a lot of choices on the market when it comes to lighting equipment for photography but the typical photographer usually is only exposed to the most mainstream, bestselling and most cost effective products.  Beyond the world of shoe mount flashes there is another universe of lighting tools, made to satisfy nearly every lighting goal imaginable.

I've worked in photography for many years and have also done quite a bit of work with video and film production.  This exposed me to a much broader range of lights.  From 18,000 watt movie lights with large fresnel lenses to tiny LED panels that add just the right touch of light to a scene poised on the border between light and shadow.

More importantly, my tenure in both moving images and high end studio work have shown me what kind of accessories are required to really leverage the capabilities of diverse light sources.

This book is an overview of what's out there.  How it's used.  And why.

I only had 128 pages at my disposal but I tried to make sure that a photographer reading through would discover the range and the advantages and disadvantages to each category of light.  It's good to know that an 18,000 watt HMI figure can compete with the sun in a large area but it's also good to know that they are huge, heavy and require special power sources (and an experienced crew) to use.

The book is out of my hands now and is in the last lap with the publishing experts at Amherst Media.  If all goes according to plan the book will be out in late Spring, 2010.

If you are looking for the perfect gift to give a fellow photographer right now I'd love to recommend my third book, Commercial Photography Handbook.  It's pretty darn good.  One week till Christmas.  Hope everyone is doing well.

Sometimes advertising concepts are unusual.....

Men: An Owner's Manual.

A while ago I was asked to shoot an ad concept for a cooperative ad bound for national newspaper insertion.  The client was Bookstop Bookstores, the first "category killer" giant bookstore chain.  The ad was to promote a book called, "Men, An Owner's Manual".

The agency creative team was fun and cynical and willing to take risks.  Lots of risks.  And so was the client, for that matter.  With tongue firmly planted in cheek the agency comped up a layout that pretty much matches the above photo and flew it past the client's marketing team with zero friction.

We convinced a new hotel in town to "loan" us a room, booked a couple of models and headed over for an afternoon of insouciance.  Mild room service.  No fiscal damage.

This is hardly high art.  Shot with a Leica M4 with an old chrome 35mm Summicron and some 100 iso black and white film.  Hand processed.  Printed on fiber paper.  Old school.  Two old strobes, probably Normans.

Just found in a stack of ad stuff.  It's not in a book.  It's just here.

Fashion Week in Paris.

It was a cold October in 1994.  My wife, my parents and I were in Paris on a vacation.  When I read the paper one morning I discovered that our time in the city corresponded with the Fall Fashion shows being held, that year, at the Carousel de Louvre.  I put my Contax film camera in a bag and headed over to see what there was to see.  Security was tight and only photographers with passes were allowed inside the six large halls where non-stop shows were going on.

I didn't have any credentials for the shows and I was about to head back upstairs and wander around the city when I heard a familiar voice calling my name.  It was an assistant art director from a large American magazine I had worked for from time to time.  She asked which show I was covering.  I told here my being there was totally coincidental and I wasn't shooting for anyone.  She reached into her large bag and pulled out a press pass and a second "all stages" pass and handed them to me.  "If you get anything fun you can send it to me when we all get home." She said.  And then she disappeared into the crowd and was swallowed up in the line heading for the Lagerfeld venue.

I took my one camera and two lenses ( a 50mm 1.4 and a 135mm 2.8, both Zeiss) peeled ten rolls of tri-X out of their boxes and headed in to see what was what.  I spent the afternoon shooting for fun.  I hung out backstage at a few shows.  I drank some Champagne with  people celebrating the success of their individual efforts and I had fun.  Thank goodness I thought to wear black.

All the photographers were patient, kind and professional.  There's no real story here.  Just a random memory triggered by a photo in a folder.

No one cared that my camera was a manual focus one.  Nearly everyone else's was too.  Amazing that so many great photographs were taken before the advent of so much automation and lightning fast feedback.  More challenging? Less challenging?  Maybe just different.

Sometimes photography is just plain, clean fun......

Working in your style.

Curious to understand what makes a "style".  I'm not sure I know.  I know I like portraits that seem to connect with me.  I'm less interesting in the technique than the context and less interested in the context than the content.  I want to be interested by the implications of the captured moment.

More square.  More time.  More practice being with people.

A silly holiday image.

    From the Zilker Park Holiday Tree display.  December 2009.


It's been a tough year for most of my friends and long distance acquaintances.  Some times a walk through the park is a good prescription for our mental health.  Hope the holidays are stress free and happy for everyone.