October 2007 Archives

Rock, hard place

As I've discussed before, I believe that one of the most difficult road blocks young freelance photographers must overcome (especially ones coming from a photo-j background like myself) is their understanding of the awkward relationship between talent and success. I certainly assumed while in college that the best photographers must command the most and best assignments; or at least that talent was the main factor in the business. Yes, indeed, what a dispiriting lesson can the marketing influence be.

Recently I was thinking about another lesson of sorts that speaks to the strange middle ground that many of us editorial shooters occupy these days, which is finding that I'm getting stuck between the two extremes of clients who either have way too specific instructions/expectations for a shoot, and others that have far too little grasp on what they want or need. Every single bad shoot I've ever been a part of (maybe 3 real stinkers in almost 6 years) has been the result of either an incredible amount of provincial NYC pre-imagining gone awry or a total lack of engagement and specificity from a lazy editor. (There have certainly been times when I didn't kick ass either, but never without also delivering something solid and usable).

Somewhere between that rock and hard place, I find myself trying to claw out a little breathing room for my own creativity while also keeping the successful conclusion of the assignment in the forefront of my mind. And regardless of how great you might shoot on a job that has got fucked, and no matter who is to blame (editor, writer, subjects), the freelance photographer is almost certainly going to get the broom. If I was an editor who was being read the riot act by boss, I'd certainly want to lay blame elsewhere too.

Neither side in this pickle is pretty to look at. The too much editors often try to "ask" if you would "like" to see their sketches or mock-ups of what they want to finished shot to look like (uh, no thanks.) The too little editors want to give you a giant list of things that you might consider, and then no matter what you decide to tackle they will inevitably need something else, something more, something better, something different.

Part of this sounds like bitching and whining, and it is. We the photographers are playing the part of Goldilocks who can't quite find the right temperature for the porridge. But the truth is that you have to help your clients get out of their own way and allow you and the assignment to breathe. They must have enough trust in you that you are going to get something solid no matter what, but they also need to want something completely unexpected, and that passion isn't always common. On my most recent assignment I was given a lot of freedom and now at the end of a lot of discussions and shooting I am starting to tense up because I know that the project isn't really going to look like either the client or I wanted.

The true panacea for this roadblock is time. But time is money, and both are in short supply aren't they? With more time my current client could have put me in the proper and visually rich situations to photograph the subjects at work on the story, instead of trying to piece it back together with portraits and compromise. The final product will likely include several stock images (mine and others) in order to make the feature well-rounded, and how rare is it that a feature that has all of this going on really ends up feeling cohesive and dynamic?

Ultimately the other cure-all is simply me just caring a lot less about how it all sorts out, but why would I keep doing this if I didn't fucking care. You have to engage and be proactive, not turn your brain off and try to focus on other parts. And so as a craftsmen and mercenary, I keep at it and try to push my clients, gently or with a bitch-slap, to amp up their energy to help the shoots I'm working on with them have a fighting chance to make a solid clip in their magazine. Here's to the good fight; and if there are any editors reading this, please find some middle ground.

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Pennies

Over the past couple of months I've been spending a hour or so each week worrying about whether or not my phone company is going to go bankrupt, which is a strange thing to admit. I've happily been with Vonage for over 3 years but because of their recent legal troubles (patent infringements) their stock price dipped below $1, only a year after their IPO in 2006. So yeah, bad news bears. If Vonage goes the way of the dodo (or SunRocket, ahem), which seems to depend on pending appeal (Vonage v. Verizon), I'm going to be stuck and in full-on scramble mode to hold on to my existing numbers not only for convenience but because I've invested a considerable amount in their promotion.

So assuming that Vonage is history, what are my options? Well, for starters there is of course Ma Bell (not happening, even though I do have a basic home line for our security system). Going back to the AT&T's of the world at this point is pretty much like choosing to dig up an abacus for your calculus homework. Then of course there is stuff like Skype, but I can't deal with the headphone mic über dork look or the ceaseless taunting I would expect. And of course there are other VoIP providers to replace Vonage, but most of them are not any better or cheaper. Except for Ooma.

Ooma is a new VoIP provider offering a fresh approach. Instead of signing up and paying a monthly premium for their service, you begin by buying the Ooma box for $400 and then you are free to make and receive unlimited calls in the U.S. to any number for absolutely nothing. $400 up front and then its done. And thus far the major reviews (it just released in September) are somewhere between "wow" and "crazy go nuts." (You can also make calls internationally with Ooma for about the same low rates that Skype charges, ie. pennies not dollars).

So in my book, Ooma is a no-brainer. Cool machine, easy to use, expensive up front but NO contract or monthly service fees forever. All sounds great, right?... but then I remember that its all about the numbers.

I want to be in control of my contact information. As far as I can tell if you cancel Vonage you can not take your number with you. And even if you could, you can not choose your own number when you sign up for Ooma (at least not yet). So either way, no matter what your situation is, if you are interested in getting on board with new technology it looks like we are all going to have to keep sending out those mass e-mails with our new contact info to friends and family, as well as ordering 500 new business cards (dumping out the 300 left from the last batch), each time you switch. There has got to be a better way!

And maybe there is. I was also recently turned on (and invited) to join the beta stage of Google's Grand Central by my buddy Eric. GC bills itself as the new way to use phones, and upon signing up it issues you a "virtual" phone number. Through this number you can endlessly configure and set-up rules and groupings that direct your calls to whichever other work, home, cell, friends, fax, hotel lines that you may want to be reached (or not) at. Want all calls from the (212) area code to ring on every phone you have simultaneously? No problem. Want your annoying aunt's number to automatically go to voicemail? Want to record your calls on the fly? (they are stored in your online inbox).

So by using Grand Central you may finally be able to stick with a single number no matter how many times you need to switch providers, and help others find you (if that's what you want), by simply changing your settings online.

No matter what I do, unless Vonage does not go under and I decide not to take advantage of saving money with Ooma, I'm going to have to switch numbers at least once in the next 24 months. Given that it seems like the best choice is to try to slowly change my clients, friends, and family over to my virtual GC number (786-220-1215, for those who are curious). In the mean time, I have a handful of invites to the Grand Central BETA version if anyone is interested. Just drop me a line.

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Monday Poem: T.S. Eliot

T.S. Eliot | "Preludes"

I

The winter evening settles down
With smell of steaks in passageways.

Six o'clock.
The burnt-out ends of smoky days.
And now a gusty shower wraps
The grimy scraps
Of withered leaves about your feet
And newspapers from vacant lots;
The showers beat
On broken blinds and chimneypots,
And at the corner of the street
A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps.
And then the lighting of the lamps.

II

The morning comes to consciousness
Of faint stale smells of beer
From the sawdust-trampled street
With all its muddy feet that press
To early coffee-stands.
With the other masquerades
That times resumes,
One thinks of all the hands
That are raising dingy shades

In a thousand furnished rooms.

III

You tossed a blanket from the bed

You lay upon your back, and waited;
You dozed, and watched the night revealing
The thousand sordid images
Of which your soul was constituted;
They flickered against the ceiling.
And when all the world came back
And the light crept up between the shutters

And you heard the sparrows in the gutters,
You had such a vision of the street
As the street hardly understands;
Sitting along the bed's edge, where
You curled the papers from your hair,
Or clasped the yellow soles of feet

In the palms of both soiled hands.

IV

His soul stretched tight across the skies
That fade behind a city block,
Or trampled by insistent feet
At four and five and six o'clock;
And short square fingers stuffing pipes,
And evening newspapers, and eyes
Assured of certain certainties,
The conscience of a blackened street

Impatient to assume the world.



I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle

Infinitely suffering thing.


Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
Gathering fuel in vacant lots.

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Return

On Friday I got a big bag of clips and negs returned to me from the morgue at Redux. It was your usual assortment of assignments including a few things I would have been OK never seeing again. One of the mags caught my eye on the way to the trashcan though, and I was pleasantly surprised to find the above clip from Audubon for a story I shot, uh, I think maybe 3 or 4 years ago, that finally found a home in this year's Jan/Feb issue. The story was about beachgoers at Cape Hatteras, NC, who (after deinflating their tires some so they don't get stuck - many do) drive their 4x4, trucks, and SUVs right out onto the beach to do their fishing and partying. Problem is the Cape is home to a ton of endangered birds and during breeding season many of the babies were being literally run right over.

I thought I had seen just about everything being from Florida, but it was crazy to me how everyone just thought it was totally normal to back your giant 4x4 right up to the water and hit the beach. Anyway, a cool clip from a really nicely put together magazine. Hopefully Audubon will give me another call soon for a clip sometime around 2010?

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Best laid plans

So often ideal plans made must to be re-arranged to fit the changing contours of our lives. And so it was last weekend when I dutifully soaked a bag of red beans overnight to make a screamin' hot and spicy RB & rice meal because The Girlfriend was out of town. But then the next day I didn't make it. And then the next. And then Judy came home, and then I still didn't. And then it was too late, as you can see above. Poor little red beans; all they wanted to do was spread their wings.

And so its been recently with a bunch of stuff going on at JLPFL. A lot of plans and ideas, a lot of scheming and sketching, a lot of scratching and sniffing? But ultimately I'm not much further along than I was a couple of months ago. There have been some pluses: a new issue of Blueeyes came out yesterday, a couple of new promo cards this month, some newsletter action this Wednesday, a cool new job for Smithsonian that I'm hopefully finishing up today. But that is all the mostly regular stuff of doing business; not the sustaining stuff that helps to push ourselves forward.

The metaphorical burner is over-filled with all of the pots that I do or don't have simmering away, brimming with all of the personal documentary projects, commercial abstract series, promo campaign ideas, collaborations, story pitches, and other odds and ends that have been dreamed up but not enacted. Now they just need to be given life and removed from this stupid metaphor and blog. So lets go do that now. Have a good weekend, all.

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Boxed

I made a quick trip home earlier this week to see family and help my mom unpack, organize, and trash a dozen years of memories and junk from the family storage unit. I'm somewhat famously unsentimental, but it was still cool to see (and chuck) pieces of the past, which together sort of form the building blocks of our family.

At night in my dad's house I listened to my little brother Michael, one of my all-time favorite photo subjects (mostly because he truly doesn't care and is therefore fearless and open), playing piano in the empty dark living room. I thought about my sister and her amazing dance talents, which are matched my Michael's rocketing musical virtuosity, and how she had recently told me how funny it was that the three of us turned out so deeply connected to different creative paths. Even my older brother does a lot of painting these days (which used to be my thing before photography).

Amy and I have talked about plans to work together and try and create something as a family. I have no idea what shape it'll take but the idea of it fills me with pride and admiration, and also an incredible love for our parents and their support which allowed us all this freedom and life.

For the record, I kept: a small shoebox of correspondence from middle and high school; a collection of minature John Deere tractor models my dad bought for me as a child; a stained, Cam Neely-autographed Boston Bruins jersey; my sport cards collection (would love to get rid of these, but they are worth something everyone keeps telling me); 10 selected issues (total) of the Leon High School High Life newspaper, The Tallahassee Democrat, The Maneater (Mizzou college newspaper), The Arizona Republic, and The Hartford Courant; and a Graflex Speed Graphic 4x5 camera (I have no idea where this came from or why it was in our storage unit) which I can't wait to check out and get repaired.

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Horns

Earlier this week one of the world's biggest rock bands, and a personal favorite here at JLPFL, dropped a giant fucking bombshell on fans, pop writers, and especially music labels. Radiohead casually announced that their much anticipated new album, now entitled In Rainbows, would be coming out very, very soon (Oct. 10, where previous reports had the release date somewhere around March '08), and, oh by the way, they are releasing it on their own, sans label. Like, Oh My Gawd, labels... Booyah!

Most of the immediate news reports focused on the pricing scheme (or lack there of) that Radiohead decided to use for the download-only version of In Rainbows (you can pay any price you would like for the music; yep, you read that right), which is interesting and all that, but the much much bigger deal is Radiohead, whose last album (the brilliant Hail to the Thief) satisfied its contract with EMI, has taken a giant leap for music-kind by taking steps to release a new album completely free of the major label system.

Many, many other rock outfits have done a similar thing (eg. Wilco, after Sony totally fucked the pooch on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, sold directly to the public via their website for a while before picking up another label, and of course so has Bright Eyes/Saddle Creek, Ani DiFranco, etc.), but none of them have done it from the platform of the "world's biggest rock band." Potentially this is a huge development in the music world, dragging the labels kicking and screaming into an entirely new condition in which they will not be able to control and restrict the flow of art/commerce between bands and fans. Even if I wasn't a creative person struggling with middle man issues, I would still think this is a pretty fucking cool experiment.

So what is going to happen? Well, Radiohead are going to sell millions of albums, mostly DRM-free download only (though I've already pre-ordered the limited edition disc box which comes with a gatefold LP, artwork, CD, as well as the download privileges), and make a shit ton of money that is completely theirs. With so much money why would the band even want to get a label or distributor on board to help with logistics for their (most likely) upcoming tour. Why after the huge success of the experiment would they not keep going down this path? And if they do why would other important bands not follow them? And if that all happens, labels, rightfully, are fucked.

Or... this could all be a sort of pre-leak of the album by Radiohead (because the leak was inevitable anyway, why not control it?) in anticipation of the regular album release by a yet-to-be-named label early next year whose new contract and awesome sum of money will ensure that none of the band members or their brothers, mothers, cousins, or neighbors will ever go even the slightest bit peckish from hunger. This could be the exact same condition, but I'd prefer that my favorite band is willing to play the part of crusader. Who else has the opportunity to do so and make it matter?!

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Kentucky XO

Sketches from the Kentucky bourbon trail. View the full gallery of images in my archive.

The idea for the recent bourbon tour began after my return from an early summer trip to the UK this year, which left me wanting much more including 2 more weeks to do a proper scotch trip. Once I was back home I realized that we had our own native spirit in the U.S., and I could much more easily afford the time and cash to begin digging into what makes Kentucky bourbon country. And once I found out about the annual KY Bourbon Festival, the whole trip was settled upon, with a few dedicated (eg. freelance or student) friends to join me as well.

Up until about a dozen years ago, there still wasn't much of a market for bourbon, and that lack of serious demand seems to have kept the original handful of distilleries as pretty much the sole producers (good bourbon takes at least 5-7 years to get to the bottling stage). In the last 5 years however, the market for ultra premium bourbon (think Makers, Knob Creek, Booker's, Baker's, Woodford, Pappy Van Winkle, etc.) has begun to take off in a big way. Personally, I started drinking bourbon having already fallen in love with its big brother scotch in early college. The reason was pretty simple math... my favorite scotches are $60+, compared to ~$32 for the bourbon.

The world's capital of bourbon is Bardstown, KY, which lies right smack in the middle of south central Kentucky and on top of a multiple county footprint of limestone bedrock, which offers clean spring water to all of the major distilleries. Coupled with the abundance of corn (bourbon is by definition American whiskey which is made with at least 51% corn -- the good stuff is usually upwards of 70%) and the region's location on the Western migration of two centuries ago, you get a picture of why Kentucky is the ground zero of bourbon. Bardstown celebrates all of this with a festival (this year's was the 16th), but you could also make the case that the real annual celebration is the Kentucky Derby (and its ubiquitous mint juleps).

Driving up from Orlando, via Atlanta, Eric and I began our tour by cutting up through Chattanooga and then staying north on small highways (its a bit quicker to head West to Nashville and then over) until we reached Loretto, KY, and our first stop: the Maker's Mark distillery (the south edge of the limestone region). What is shocking upon landing in the MM visitor's parking lot is that its a very, very small operation. If you have ever visited your local liquor store and were frustrated to find them out of Maker's, the reason may be that like the other small batch distilleries, they are truly S.O.S. (slow, old, and stubborn). Maker's offers a free tour through not only the property and a mini-museum, but also directly through the production, where you can literally poke your fingers into the bubbling yeast during the fermentation process to get a taste of the distiller's beer.

Starting off with Maker's was a great choice (which we only made because of its location -- be careful that you remember each distillery is at least 20-30+ miles away from the next one) because its such a small, classic operation that puts you in the right frame of reference. Though Maker's has never been my favorite bourbon, it was one of our highlights on the trip. And after eating a bit of lunch we moved on and North to Bardstown itself to check out what the festival was all about.

Ultimately, and somewhat unfortunately, the festival itself is best treated as a state fair that happens to have a bourbon theme. Bardstown is a cool little spot, but the festival doesn't have nearly enough of the very stuff that brought you there. It took us more than a full hour wandering around at the festival to even find the only place where you can actually drink bourbon, the "spirit tent," which was hidden behind the music stage. And even in the spirit tent, more than half of the people are drinking cheap bear. After getting ID'd, and then purchasing a badge and tickets (1 ticket=1 dollar, which makes you wonder why you needed to waste the paper in the first place), you can enjoy one of 20 or so bourbons (I was intimately familiar with almost all of the choices) while staying inside the confines of the tent area (which is set-up on a little league baseball field). There is no food in the spirit tent, but you can bring it in from outside, and not nearly enough seating. Nonetheless the bourbon was delicious and the weather was beautiful as the sun set.

Ultimately the festival is charming but incomplete for the real bourbon fan. The whole idea of a celebratory trip down the liquor trail is to discover new inspiration and kinds you have never tried or (hopefully) even heard of before. At most of the distilleries we visited there was nothing there that you didn't already know about. There is no special secret Maker's Mark blend that you can buy in their gift shop. Nope, just the same stuff in different bottles and on t-shirts and chocolates. As cool as it is to see the operation, I wanted to learn just how much more there was out there to try in the bourbon universe. It was disappointing to learn that except one giant exception, the bourbon you find at a good liquor store is pretty much the extent of things.

Later that first night of the festival my buddy Travis met up with Eric and I and we retreated back to our hotel in Elizabethtown (I tossed a coin and decided to stay west of Bardstown instead of east - staying in Bardstown itself requires a hell of a lot more preparation by way of advance booking - but next trip I'll be staying east and closer to the action). After a few beers and other libations we finished off the night, and got going to the Jim Beam distillery in nearby Shepherdsville the next morning.

On approach its obvious just how much larger of an operation that Jim Beam is, belying its role as one of the world's largest producers. JB is home to several of my all-time favorites including the world's best selling ultra premium, Knob Creek. Visitors to the distillery can check out a museum and tasting room, including a pretty nice video of the 200+ year old distillery, and then can step outside for a self-guided tour that is pretty limited to staring at the outside of their multiple giant bonded warehouses. A nice place to visit, but again there was nothing there for the ardent fan outside of dozens of expensive t-shirts.

After another content several hours spent tromping around Bardstown (lunch at a great old fashioned drug store lunch counter), we made possibly the smartest decision of the entire trip and joined friends of friends Simon and Jeremy up for a tasting they had heard about at the Chapeze House, a historic house in central Bardstown. It was immediately apparent that we had struck gold and finally found the uncommon road. We sat down to study a bourbon tasting menu separated into 3 flights possibilities: premium, ultra premium, and vintage. Uhh, yes please! Finally! Stuff I had never heard of, let alone tasted. We ordered 4 flights (2 ultra, 2 vintage) of 5 bourbons per flight, for a total of 20 different, including several bourbons that were 20+ years old (extremely rare).

The five of us were presented with trays of every bourbon sitting on a note card explaining what it was (many bourbons + drinking gets very confusing, trust me). And we diligently dug in, comparing and contrasting, matching ryes and ryes (one of the ingredients which adds a beautiful sweetness such as in Booker's) or 21 year old vintage vs. 23 year old (21 is much brighter and balanced). Things get better and better as we discussed the bourbon with Colonel Michael Masters who was on hand. And as we cleared the cups away I had a burning question for the Colonel: what in the hell is this "vintage" stuff?!

Turns out that "vintage" was not a category so much as an actual distillery located just a few miles from where we were sitting. And the heavens parted and the angels sang... a whole new distillery which we'd never heard of whose stuff was not only extremely rare and old, but it was the best bourbon I'd ever tasted, beating Booker's, Baker's, Pappy Van Winkle, and everything else hands down. Not only was it incredible stuff, but it was incredibly varied, ranging from their 25 year-old (and 125 proof) Willett Estate to the Pure Kentucky XO (think of a bigger, better balanced, beautiful Woodford Reserve). So why in the fuck haven't you heard of this heavenly stuff?! Well, to hear Colonel tell it they have such a limited distribution and tiny production that Bardstown, KY, is basically the only place on Earth that you can get it.

On the way out of Bardstown that night Jeremy and Simon had the smart idea of stopping by one of the local liquor stores and found some of the Vintage we had been drinking that night. I placed a phone order for 3 bottles (I would have done a lot more but you can only let friends buy so many bottles and carry them over state lines for you, ya know). The Chapeze House tasting was the bourbon highlight of the trip and its basically an absolutely required stop for anyone planning a trip. The Colonel will blow your mind.

Our final day in Kentucky was a Sunday which means that in Kentucky there isn't much you can do to appreciate bourbon unless you've thought ahead and pre-purchased. We made our way across the state to the beautiful horse country and the Labrot & Graham distillery near Versailles (pronounced in the most un-French way possible), home to Woodford Reserve (the official bourbon of the Derby). I've long since been a fan of this extremely under valued blend but even if I wasn't the distillery (a national historic landmark) was the best tour we went on during the trip. Though it costs $5, the tour begins with a short film and then takes you through the entire operation (another very, very small one). It was really a great way to end the trip, and I'd be surprised if Eric and I don't eventually end up buying our own barrel of Woodford Reserve (which is specially blended exclusively for you, for only $9000, equaling 190 1 liter bottles).

We wound our way back down to Atlanta and some more fun, and then eventually home. It was a great trip and I can't wait to head back.

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