F.R. "Fritz" Nordengren, MPH

It’s the time of year when we all lie to ourselves:
Lose (random integer here) pounds
Run a mile in less time than it takes to process a roll of C41
Bench press the ISO rating of my favorite film
Visit a homeless shelter, no, wait÷. Volunteer at, no, wait….
Build a homeless shelter
Get my columns to my editor on time

But, kidding aside, there is something about the new year that brings the “potential” for change to our lives. And if you are ready for some change, here is my list of suggested resolutions you can add to your list:

1) Enough is enough. I will stop buying software upgrades just because they are released.
This isn’t meant as a slap to the industry. I believe in worthwhile upgrades. But, I’ve fallen victim to automatically upgrading software because it was released, not because it works in my projects. Premiere 5.0 is one example. A great product, a great company. I saw it at NAB and upgraded. While I edit primarily on AVID, Premiere does some things easier than other tools I have on my shelf–like make QuickTime movies and easy export to Real Video. That was April of ’98. Now version 5.1 is released and they still don’t support the Truevision DTX video board.(soon they say, soon). My point is, just because it’s released doesn’t mean it works for me.
2) I will help someone who is not on the Internet discover the world of online communication.

It’s time to be a new media evangelist. I’ll give you an example. My sister is 50+ years old and retired at age 50. She’s traveled much of the world, and is an avid movie buff. She used computers in her job. Of all the people I know, she would really enjoy the online experience÷. But, my sister is still off-line. She says she doesn’t want anything to do with computers now that she’s retired. Maybe this is the year I send her Web TV. (It’s not a computer, its TV.)

2a) I will help someone who is on the Internet rediscover the real world outside.

The real world is bigger than 640 x 480.

Ignoring all the pop psyche studies about whether spending too much time on the Internet makes depressed people more depressed, or brings people together ala “You’ve Got Mail.” It’s time to get out of the chair and into the world more. I chose a life as an independent producer to get away from tyrannical bosses and ridiculous schedules.

My email has become one of the tyrannical bosses. Hell, I even give some folks the email address of my digital phone-I can be emailed when I’m in the car! (What was I thinkin’?)
3) As a producer, I’ll make sure the people working with me have the tools necessary to do their jobs.

This is the opposite of #1 above. In my role as producer, I need to understand what tools are necessary for doing the work in my shop. Look at the tools your competitors (or associates) are using and make sure that yours are up to speed.
4) Just for kicks, I’ll try to put together a package using low cost consumer tools.

I think at times, we have so many tools, effects and gizmos available that we forget how to tell a story–simply. So try this some weekend: put together a project using simple consumer tools. Shoot with a VHS C or 8mm camcorder. Edit with an inexpensive edit package like Avid Cinema ($99). Tell a story. Use good light. Listen to the nat sound audio. Edit in camera as much as possible.

I have a Sharp Viewcam we use for home movies. Frankly, I always have fun shooting with this camera. It’s a simple, 8mm format and the quality is not “broadcast quality,” but it does produce a nice image for home movies. It’s a camera you can turn on and pass around the room.
5) I will give someone a “break” into the business.

You remember what it felt like when you got yours.
6) When I see someone’s work I really like, I will let them know.

I will send them an email (see #2 above)–or–I will send them a hand written note (see #2a above).
7) I will learn the difference between editing and spell checking, and do both in my written work.

If your projects use a displayed word–we can’t limit our thinking to “printed” anymore–it’s time to remember the basics. We need to spell check (I’m guilty of this one) and edit. That includes some basic things like lead writing and copyfitting.

Writing for the computer screen includes editing so that the words are easy to read, that line breaks make sense, and the display works well on little screens as well as big screens. If you are doing Web stuff, the “standard” monitor size is reduced to a display area of 600 x 300 pixels after you account for the browser navigation buttons. Web TV is 544 x 378, and a Palm Pilot is 160 x 120. If you are delivering text content to folks on those platforms, editing for the screen is going to be crucial. (We’re blessed at The Digital Journalist with a good editor. Self-editing is much harder.)
9) I will keep a “list” of projects I want to do on my desk at all times.

This is my creative fuel. These are the projects I would do if I had no obstacles. I think Robert Schuller calls it–what would you do if you could not fail. I have a list of 7 to 10 projects I keep in front of me, and every so often I connect with someone who can help take one of them to the next step.

Here are two from my list, anyone interested?

“Seven Rivers – Seven Years” – Interactive & video documentary of life along: The Nile, Ganges, Mekong, Mississippi, Amazon, Chang (Yangtze), Volga

“So Now What do We Do? Ashes to Ashes – Dust to Dust” – Interactive & video documentary describing death and post death ceremony and practice.

9a) And while I’m at it, I’ll keep short proposals for pitches on my hard drive so I can send one out at a moment’s notice. It’s amazing, with the ease of desktop publishing, layout, and mail-merge (or search and replace) how quick it can be to print out (or email) a custom proposal to the sponsor, producer, or client. After all, isn’t that what I bought a computer for?
10) Work less, play more.

My office used to be across the street from a cemetery. In all the time I walked through it, I never saw a tombstone with the epitaph “I wish I spent more time at the office.”

There you have it. From my chair, 1999 looks like a great time to be a storyteller.

I watched with great interest the TBS Superstation documentary “Dying to Tell the Story.” This is an amazing combination of personal insight and objectivity about the profession of photojournalism. Shortly after it aired, I began to receive e-mail questions from students asking how to become a “war photojournalist.”

The Dan Eldon story is fascinating. It gives real insight into the mind of someone who is burning to tell great and important stories. Not surprisingly, this dramatic and perhaps romantic side of photojournalism attracts publishers and documentary filmmakers.

But, there is another side of photojournalism that gets overlooked too often.

Community photojournalists are shooting against tight deadlines every day, in towns from New York and Orlando, to Racine and Barstow. Beyond deadlines, these storytellers seek out the important images and stories to balance the necessary (but dreaded) “head shots” and “real estate” often used in the news hole.

I’ve had the privilege of working with a group of community photojournalists this year on a Web project called “Behind the Viewfinder”(http://www.digitalstoryteller.com/YITL), and what I have learned about this group amazes me everyday.

The job is telling the story. The community photojournalist lives in a community where they work. They learn the subtle context and nuances of their beat. They are the other side of photojournalism; they are, living to tell the story.

Dick Kraus, staff photographer of Newsday, explains that often, in daily work, you need to find the images that go beyond the obvious.

 ”If you are standing on a street corner, with camera in hand, waiting to photograph yet another “man in the street” interview, and armed guards come running out of a bank, shooting at some bad guys holding money bags, and the activity causes a bus to swerve and crash into a truck, and both vehicles end up crashing through a storefront plate glass window leaving carnage everywhere, you are one of the lucky ones. It’s not hard to aim your camera anywhere and come up with great pictures.

“But, not all of us are so lucky. We have to generate our own luck. And it usually comes in the least suspected places. Most of the daily grind that we find ourselves shooting most days are usually little slices of life in the communities in which we serve. “

That’s not to say community photojournalists don’t see their share of death, despair and human suffering too. Lara Hartley, photojournalist for the Desert Dispatch in Barstow, California, points out the grim vision after a traffic accident.

“The reporter and I hit the deck running I think. Going over the best and quickest route in my head, driving carefully but fast, teaching her how to change lenses on the Nikon. Adrenaline pumping through tired veins, we sped north. We arrived on scene to find a wrecked RV and two other vehicles. And three bodies under tarps and a quilt with more injured being tended to by rescue workers.

“Once again I am reminded of the preciousness of life and how suddenly it can end. I hear others talk about the philosophy of life and death, how death is natural and part of nature’s cycle and not to be feared.

“Maybe so, but a buttercup yellow tarp with only blue feet showing is not natural. This is not how it should end.”

The lines between garage and home become blurred as debris lays scattered after a tornado. © 1998 Mark Lent

Mark Lent, of Tuscaloosa, Alabama, describes the “rush” of spot news: “Someone has just been robbed and shot at the convenience store just down the road. You get into your car and as fast as you can, get to the scene where chaos abounds. The robbery happened near a shift change and the replacement clerk is sobbing hysterically, near the now murdered body. Police officers spot you and sternly ask you to move back away from the crime scene—you oblige by moving into the road, and shoot the scene with a 300mm lens rather than the 85 you had been using.”

“This gets you to thinking that if it weren’t for that freelance work you’ve been doing, it would be tough to make ends meet. You think about the clients that you’ve worked for over the years, and the list is getting longer and longer. It should too. You’re a good photographer, and give your very best work each and every time that you pick up your camera.”

Lent says the lifestyle often forces photojournalists to question their choice, not unlike the questions Eldon would write in his journals.  “At one time, I worked three jobs simply to pay for my school, food, camera equipment and the roof over my head. It’s not fun and you have to sit and wonder to yourself if it’s really worth all of the effort that you put into it.”

Paul LeRose kisses Deanna Meyers whom he  married Tuesday September 8 at the Racine County Jail, after Judge Michael Gibbs sentenced him to five years in prison on theft charges, Thursday September 10, 1998 in Walworth County Circuit Court in Elkhorn, Wis. LeRose was accused of overbilling the state for his work as a public defender. He was also ordered to make $58,000  restitution to the state. His brother, Jim,  looks on, and a Racine County sheriff’s  deputy waits to take him back to the Racine County Jail. Photo by Mark Hertzberg – Racine Journal Times ©1998

Mark Hertzberg, director of photography for the Racine Journal Times, explains local news coverage this way: “It makes no sense to give people the same news they probably saw on TV the night before, and that they can read in the other papers. While we do report significant wire stories, we recognize that local news is the bread and butter of our franchise. Local news does not mean presentations and check passings to us…it means solid coverage of the issues that interest and affect our readers.”

Hertzberg described covering a recent sentencing hearing for a criminal. “I rushed to the hallway after the sentencing to get a picture of LeRose being led past his family, shackled. I saw him stop to kiss his new wife, and fired off some pictures. I took one more as he passed by his father and his brothers in the hallway. He turned and looked at me, and then came the confrontation I had expected since the first time I took his picture in court. ‘How many more do you need, you goddamn vulture?’ he yelled. I said nothing. His father told him to be quiet.”

Hertzberg selected two photos to run in the paper and didn’t think anymore about the case until he checked his phone messages later in the day.

A woman’s voice on the recording said, “This message is for Mark Hertzberg. It’s [Paul's mother]. I want to thank you for those pictures. They made me cry, but they did show that he is not a monster. Thank you.”

Hertzberg points out that often times, even when the story is about a far off land, the more important photo is what’s happening at home.

U.S. Army Reserve Spec. David Danner hugs two of his children, Brandon, 5, right, and Samantha, 6, left, as he prepares to board an airplane Sunday, Jan. 18, 1998 at Gen. Mitchell International Airport in Milwaukee, Wis. Danner’s reserve unit, the Sturtevant-based 336th Engineer Platoon will join about 8,000 other U.S. peace keeping troops in Bosnia. The unit could be stationed in the war ravaged country for up to nine months. (Photo © 1998 Racine Journal Times, Jim Slosiarek, used by permission)

“An 83-year-old reader called me this morning, in tears, telling me how moved he was by (staff photographer) Jim Slosiarek’s photo of a local Army reservist saying good-bye to his family before leaving for a nine-month tour of duty in Bosnia,” Hertzberg begins.

“The assignment posed a dilemma for us. Some of the leaders of the reserve unit would not tell us where or when the flight was leaving because they wanted the soldiers to be able to say their farewells without cameras around. Part of me understood that and wanted to respect that desire.”

As photo editor, and as journalist, Hertzberg said he felt he had to do what he could to get a photographer to the departure gate.

“I felt that a photo—like the one Jim gave our readers—was an important part of an important story in our community. Our readers needed to see a departure photo as they read the story about the troops’ departure. One reservist gave me the information when we agreed that only the Journal Times, the local newspaper, and no television media, would be there.”

Roy Scheider looks the part while filming the HBO movie “Somebody Has to Shoot the Picture” in Orlando. © Tom Burton/The Orlando Sentinel

Traveling to a distant place, or risking your life may seem thrilling, but Tom Burton, senior staff photographer for the Orlando Sentinel, sees it a different way.“Truth is, it’s pretty easy to look like a photographer. Buy some Nikons or Canon cameras, put on a photo vest (or even an old fishing vest, if you’re on a budget), get a hat, hang a plastic credential holder around your neck and Bingo! Ya look like a pro. “For a lot of people, just being there and pointing a camera at the action is enough to be a photographer.” Burton says that photographers have to be storytellers – not just thrill seekers.

“But the best photographers are more than ‘be there.’ They are storytellers. They have a knowledge and a passion for the medium, understanding the methods of composition, and lighting, and timing and the visual language that is used to make good photos. They know that the subject is the most important element. They are diplomats. They can make good photos from the quiet stories, and great photos from the dramatic events. They work hard. The true measure is the quality of their photos.”

The quality of photos is often balanced with the quality of the content. Susan Markisz, a freelancer for the New York Times and Riverdale Press, has the desire to do more within the focus of the community.

“There’s nothing really wrong with feature photography. It’s a mainstay of community journalism, along with coverage of local issues.” She explains that her photo layouts generally amount to a page of either pictures from a dance performance, or an event that merited multiple pics.

She continues reviewing her own work: “There were no in-depth picture stories, which shouldn’t surprise me because that’s not been something the paper has pursued. With the varying perceptions of the meaning of photojournalism v. newspaper photography v. portrait photography v. feature photography.

“I suppose I fit neatly into the latter two categories, which is bothersome because I would like to think I’m capable of working on an in-depth project, not one in which there’s only an hour or less to get a picture. I don’t think they adequately reflect the pulse of our community; a moment in a day in the life, perhaps, but as a mirror of what people’s lives are about? Probably not.”

Joey Costello, 3, suffered a seizure last year after being diagnosed with leukemia 1 1/2 years ago. He has trouble standing up by himself. © 1998 Susan B.Markisz/The Riverdale Press

Markisz actively pursues her own individual projects, and often takes time on sensitive features that enables her to get closer to the subject. She describes a recent assignment to photograph a woman and her 3 and 1/2-year-old son, both of whom have leukemia, as not being about a war on another continent but rather “a silent one being fought here…and in just about every corner of the world.“‘Swallowing hard’ is how I would describe the feeling of walking into their lives to take their picture,” Markisz said.

Tom Burton also sees the dichotomy of work in community coverage as both subject matter and financial reward.

“Each generation of photojournalists has to face the conflicting demands of making a living and making good photos. It is frustrating, painful and depressing to realize that the pictures we consider to be important aren’t valuable in the marketplace. The photographers I admire seem to always find a way to survive this quandary. They find a way to make cash on the ‘easy’ assignments. Then those resources can be used to fund their personal work, which is always the work that is the most interesting but harder to publish.

“This mind-set applies even to staff photographers. Each week, I have plenty of mindless, no-brainer assignments that do nothing to further the goals of photojournalism. For whatever reason, the editors want these photos to fill in formatted sections that appeal to specific reader demographics. The photos aren’t interesting or enlightening, but are instead informational and functional.” Burton said.

“Because there are only so many hours in the day, each ‘empty’ assignment takes away from time that could be spent on something more journalistic. Knowing this can sap your enthusiasm for this profession. It can be the poison that kills a career.”

Burton explains his ability to rationalize the choices. “I face this peculiar kind of depression, but have been able to temper it by shifting my perspective. In my mind, I collect my paycheck for each and every one of the painfully boring house photos, mug shots, or pointless product shots I make each week. That money, along with the resources of cameras and film, gives me the chance to pursue my own ideas in the time I steal in between assignments.”

Burton sums up what the others have shared by describing the way he lives to tell a story.

“This Jekyll and Hyde approach can be stressful but it is the only method I’ve found to be able to continue my work in photojournalism, going into mid-career. The only other options I can think of are to find an editor who wants to run ‘pictures Tom thinks are cool,’ or to give up altogether. I can dream about the former, but can’t face the possibility of the latter.”