The Daily Edit – Respect, curiosity without judgment, human to human. By Sarah Sherman

 

Sarah Sherman

Heidi: You attended the event as a photojournalist and part of “the huddled masses” – can you unpack how you felt like you were both?
Sarah: Everyone was expecting D.C. to be cold, but as all major events moved inside or were canceled entirely, everyone was left outside with dwindling options, including press.

The photographers with indoor access were swiftly cut down to a slim group of AP and White House Press Pool photographers stationed inside. Most press passes became mute—they didn’t get you inside the Rotunda anymore. You had access to the streets like everyone else.

The Capital 1 Arena was opened as a holding shell for the simulcast. It was the official backup location, so that’s where most of the core base of Trump supporters were going, and I was going with them. We all walked together trying to find the place.

As part of the “huddled masses,” I shared in the frustration, cold, and confusion. But as a photojournalist, I was there to observe and catch the images that illustrated this complicated political and emotional backdrop, and the historic day. Being in the cold gave me a physical show of the disparity between the wealthy attendees’ experience and that of the everyday supporters.

The city was fenced off like a maze. Members of the Special Services, police, National Guard, and military manned the barricades. As such, they were the only people to ask for directions. We asked guards at every gate we passed. They simply didn’t know where the Arena was or how to get there, and it seemed they hadn’t been told. And it seemed like it was on purpose. The disorganization and lack of information for the people felt almost cruel, or, to assume the best of the Trump Administration, a huge failure in planning.

There was a massive lack of pomp and circumstance. Sharing in the same experience as the average Trump supporter showed me the event’s class divide—for the more well-to-do attendees there were packed and patriotic schedules—spreadsheets filled with exclusive galas, private watch parties, luncheons, music, and a banquet of indoor events that you either had to pay quite a lot for, or be invited by an insider. For the average person the choices were to either wait in line for two hours to see Trump simulcast on a screen, or watch from a bar if there was any space/tickets left. Most bars and restaurants were not allowing free entry to see the inauguration on their TVs.

You did a stellar job at dealing with comments on IG about the bag pile and the polarizing narrative by thanking the person for their insight and knowledge. In a few words, how do you use respect as a tool during these dynamic times?
Yes, a woman in my comments wrote that the experience I described of attendees being required to throw their bags into a trash pile to enter the arena was not her experience at all. I know what I saw, so I took no offense. I sent her a link to a video of all the piles of bags. She commented back that actually her bag was one of the bags in that pile, but that it was more than worth it for her, and that’s why she did it. I thanked her for sharing that honesty, because that is the truth that people want to hear. A lot of Democrats would be quick to ask what could compel someone to throw an LV purse away to see a simulcast in an arena, but when we listen, we often get the answers. I really felt honored that she was able to let her guard down and share that with me, and my followers.

You had a lovely and very human framing of your images on IG, “We are all brothers and sisters on this earth together” – how do you let those you are photographing know you come in peace and respect?
We really are all in this together whether we like it or not. The hate won’t help. Things might get a lot worse and they might get better–those who voted for him will experience the outcomes too, just like people who didn’t vote for Trump. The way I view it, there is evidence in the world to support any conclusion. Respect is about recognizing the humanity behind every perspective, even when it’s challenging.
My approach is rooted in nonverbal safety–I try to attune to the emotion of my subject and match it so they see me seeing them. I rarely cover my face with my camera—I want them to see my eyes and share a moment with them. Or if they’re smiling and singing I smile and sing too so they know I’m with them, and not here to embarrass them. By being present and engaging with my subjects in a truly curious and nonjudgmental manner, they know I am a friend. Sharing moments of camaraderie—whether through conversation, shared laughter, or simply by showing gratitude for their openness— helps establish that trust. When people feel respected, they’re more willing to let you into their world. And how boring would it be if I only knew people who dressed and thought just like me? I want to see the circus. I want to be immersed in the circus.

Observe History: As an observer, you bring an aesthetic and POV with your framing and the moments you select. What were you trying to communicate with this image set?
I wanted to show moments of extreme highs–screaming, singing, embracing–with more somber images of people in the cold, to show the whole gamut. The “huddled masses” and their sacrifices and big emotions were so visually different from the exclusivity and mild smiles of wealthier attendees’. I was highlighting the tension between unity and disparity.  By highlighting the perseverance, emotions, and camaraderie of the people in the cold, I wanted to show the commitment and resilience of everyday individuals, and what that looks like. There were high spirits amidst harsh conditions, reflecting a realistic view of the event–Trump’s supporters were all there because they wanted to be, and come rain, snow, or shine, they were not giving up on seeing him sworn in, even if they were left out in the cold.

What was left out of frames on the image sets? Meaning, what was happening outside the frame that didn’t support your POV, if anything?
Some moments of hostility among the attendees were left out—not that they didn’t happen, but if there was a fight in the Capital 1 Arena line, the offenders were removed immediately, and the police were quicker than I was. These next four years will be a shared experience for all Americans no matter if we voted for him or not. Images that reinforced oversimplified or harmful stereotypes were left out. Images of angry white women were left out (too much of the blame for Trump’s success has already gone to women). It’s important for me to show viewers that not just white Americans attend these events. I wanted to include what I believe is a powerful and underestimated diversity amongst the President’s supporters. Additionally, the experiences of those inside luxurious events weren’t my focus. I didn’t include images of law enforcement even though that was a staple for me when I documented the Republican National Convention. They weren’t the focus, the people were. I caught glimpses and images of opulence in hotel lobbies, or in lines for fundraising Galas, and even outside, but the story to me was more about staying aligned with what I really saw–the narrative of the “huddled masses”, and what seemed to me like a suddenly discarded pillar of Trump’s supporters–the poor and working class base.

How did you get to the point where they were dropping pants to show their tattoos in total elation?
Moments like these are often born from genuine camaraderie and mutual trust. He was elated, he was so proud to show me his tattoos and that his commitment to Trump had paid off. And that his guy won. I encourage people by talking to them while I’m photographing. I say what I really feel, and I give them compliments; “Dude, this is insane and badass, you’re so brave,”. When he dropped his pants, I knelt down on the floor of the bar to look. Once I did that, a whole crowd gathered to take their own photos because they saw his art being respected and they realized he wanted his art to be seen. My ability to connect with people from a place of curiosity—without judgment, human to human—makes people feel comfortable and safe enough to express themselves freely. Moments of unfiltered reaction are easily able to be photographed when people feel seen and respected.

By being present and effusive in a celebratory atmosphere, I build verbal and nonverbal rapport with my subjects through shared energy and curiosity. Their joy makes me feel joy, because it’s very real and it’s intimate. When I hear a man belting out ‘Glory Glory Hallelujah’ with the choir on the bar TV, I feel the power and vibration of his voice and how genuine his feelings are, even on a controversial subject. I can feel their relief and excitement. In those moments I am totally present with them, not thinking of any potential “worst case scenario” outcomes of the election. In those moments I am embedded in the atmosphere and that alignment allows the images to almost flow through me with very little decision making.

The Daily Edit – Ashok Sinha: Art of Looking through Windows and “The Fight to Save Googie”

The Arby’s cowboy hat sign on Sunset Boulevard in Los Angeles still remains while the location is now a Prince Street Pizza pop-up

America’s oldest surviving McDonald’s dates to 1953:  Architect Stanley Clark Meson
initially outlined the tall sheet metal arches with flashing pink neon. Subsequent
corporate modernization mandates got ignored since this franchise predated the
McDonald’s Corporation. After McDonald’s purchased the property with demolition
plans, the National Trust for Historic Preservation listed it as endangered, in 1994.
The stucco shed structure and canted plate glass windows were subsequently
restored.
Norm’s Coffee Shop: Restauranteur Norm Roybark opened this Googie 1957 landmark by Louis Armet, Eldon Davis, and Helen Fong. Currently the oldest in his Norm’s diner chain, it preserves the nautical sign and sharp cantilevered canopy. In 2015, real estate investors applied for demolition, but the local cultural commission voted for preservation as a Historic-Cultural Monument.
Pann’s: Original family owners lovingly maintain this space-age 1958 diner with a “tortoise
shell” roof by Louis Armet, Eldon Davis, and Helen Fong. Classic Googie features
include the animated neon sign, tropical plantings, terrazzo floors, plate glass
windows, and stone walls. Frequently used in films, the building received a 1993
Conservancy Preservation Award following restoration.
Apollo Theater, 253 West 125th St., Manhattan
Rainbow Room, 30 Rockefeller Ctr.
White Horse Tavern 567 Hudson Street, Greenwich Village, Manhattan
Early evening view of LED sign
Dublin House

Ashok Sinha 

Heidi: “Just as today’s brands are built to shine on Instagram and TikTok, Googie structures were built to entice through a car window” – The New York Times noted people are looking out the window decades later you peer from an airplane seat. What are the creative parallels?
Ashok: I have been intrigued by LA’s love affair with the automobile and how it shaped the city’s built environment, tracing back to a time when cars themselves were objects of beauty. Those cars are no longer on the streets today but the buildings from that era (built in the ‘Googie’ architectural style) still remain. These buildings were like advertising billboards – symbols of consumerism that sent a universal messaging to the drivers and beckoned them to come inside. The Googie project recently published in NYT is a continuation of my personal photo series and book titled ‘Gas and Glamour’ and allowed me to connect with that lost design history and capture LA’s car-culture-induced optimism and ambition reflected in polychromatic, star-spangled coffee shops, gas stations, car washes, and others that once lured the gaze of passing motorists.

As luck might have it, I was recently assigned to photograph a similar story for the NYT, but this time in New York about the city’s disappearing neon signs.
This year marks the centennial anniversary year of the first neon sign in Times Square, yet it has been marked with a loss of one vintage neon sign after another, either because the business it hangs on is shuttered or its owners opt for LEDs. This photo series captures an urban landscape in transition, highlighting iconic New York City neon signs that are about to be turned off, and others that have already been dismantled or replaced by LEDs. Much like the last of the Googie establishments in LA, the story about neon signs highlights the typography, graphic design, and curbside appeal and neon’s importance in luring the gaze of passing pedestrians of New York City. Fittingly, it might be the beginning of a sequel to the west coast Googie project- ‘Glass and Glamour’ this time, perhaps?

How did the visual experience of programming satellites for the U.S. government inform your personal work?
Working on satellites is often a lonely and solitary affair (and I frankly hated it). However, it does give you a sense of humanity’s place in the universe and how we are just a tiny part of that giant extraterrestrial equation. The work is monotonous, but you do get to dream a bit and get lost in that world on a daily basis.  Looking back at those years, I believe that that mindset of logical thinking, patience, problem-solving and daydreaming all contribute to the way I manifest my thoughts and ideas through my photography work today.

Exacting Proportion asks the viewer to consider the sense of place and self—why are these considerations important to you?
Many years ago, when I visited the top of the Empire State Building one foggy night, my view of the world changed. I was consumed by the immense sky to which very few people have access in Manhattan. That led me to document a view of the world that put the scale of our communities in perspective. Living in a big city like New York, we often lose ourselves in the world surrounding us and fail to realize civilization is limiting, even at its best. Only when you start looking under the prism of a collective horizon can we evoke the constraints of our existence and better understand the delicate balance between us and the universe we all share. Through my photographs, I wanted to point out the environmental and cultural similarities between all of us, taking delight in the colorful differences, as well as infuse a hint of humor by positioning humankind as tiny in such a large universe.

Tell us about the self-made camera modification for your work “New York to LA.” What were the considerations around the seat assignments and weather conditions?
The entire body of work was shot through airplane windows and made over many years of personal trips between New York and Los Angeles. Minimizing reflections on the (plexiglass) airplane window was my main goal for creating an ad hoc attachment to the camera lens. Using black cine foil and gaffer’s tape, I devised a flexible “tent” to put the entire camera inside it and get the lens as cloo the plexiglass as possible.

Seat assignments were crucial. You ideally want to be sitting forward of the wing, otherwise, the engine turbulence creates blurry areas in the image. I also studied airplane seat maps and flight paths to make sure I was sitting on the correct side of the airplane, what terrain the airplane would be flying over etc. Most importantly, I only shot when the flight was below cruising altitude, and only at those moments whne the airplane (window) is almost parallel to the ground below, which usually means a few minutes while the airplane is turning and pitching during takeoff and landing. In order to maximize my chances of “usable” photography time, I often opted for multi-stop flights over nonstop ones.

What were some of the biggest lessons while creating this body of work since there are so many variables?
Weather was also a big factor and while I had no control over it, I used it as much as possible to work in my favor. For example, I have photographed the same landscape over different times of the year and have been delighted by the results.
While this project has definitely taught me the power of preparation and planning before any shoot, it has helped me in having an open mind and remaining flexible because the best pictures are often made that way.

Your architecture and interior work celebrate clean lines, structure, and beauty – how do your personal projects and initiatives contrast this work?
I have a curious mind that is constantly working overtime! As much as I enjoy and relish the minimalist simplicity in architecture and interiors, my personal projects are an outlet to explore other topics and subjects that I’m interested in. For example, my interest in human-driven stories has resulted in short documentaries (Forgotten Artisans of New York, Pigeon Kings of Brooklyn, Sticker City), while my affinity towards the natural world has led me to create several bodies of work that explore landscape (Exacting Proportion, New York to L.A.) and lastly, my curiosity about identity and self-expression has resulted in portrait projects (The Hindu Bagpipers of Secaucus in NYT and the Languages of New York short video interview series.)

 

A New Winter – Sofía Jaramillo

   


 

A New Winter – Sofía Jaramillo

Heidi: What are your hopes for this body of work?
Sofia: This is an ongoing project. I hope to make a book eventually!
This project has two main goals:

  • To encourage conversations about diversity and inclusion in winter sports
  • To create representation for people of color in winter sports culture.

I plan to showcase this work at various museums and galleries, particularly in the Mountain West, to promote dialogue about the evolving culture of winter sports and explore ways to make it more welcoming for everyone.

How did this project come about?
This project began years ago when I walked through the Sun Valley Lodge. Sun Valley is the first ski destination resort in the U.S., meaning it has some of the earliest marketing images of destination skiing in the country. These were the first images to define what ski culture would be like in the United States. Many of these photographs are displayed in the lodge, particularly in an iconic hallway lined with hundreds of images.

While I was there, I noticed that out of the hundreds of images on the walls, only one featured a person of color. This stark observation made me reflect on the correlation between the representation of individuals in those historic images and what we see, on average, at ski slopes today. For those who don’t ski or haven’t spent much time on ski hills in the U.S., according to the Snow Sports Industry of America’s 2022-2023 annual report, only 13% of all skiers were Hispanic, 9% were Black, and 8% were Asian, making skiing one of the least diverse sports.
When I saw those images, I thought, “How does this relate to who we see skiing today, and how exciting would it be to remake and reimagine ski history in a more inclusive way?” As a young Latina who grew up in Sun Valley, this project reflects my personal journey with identity and my desire to see a future in winter sports culture where everyone feels they belong.

How did you decide on the casting?
The first year of casting, I called up all my friends to see who might want to support and be part of my crazy idea. I am lucky that some of my good friends are also great models and we got a really great group together for the first year this way. I invited everyone out to Sun Valley and we shot for 3 days.
The second year was way different. We started planning casting a lot further in advance and we worked with a dedicated Casting Director. Terumi Alana Murao, who is also our stylist, stepped it up and offered to do the casting as well. Turns out Terumi is just as talented at styling as she is casting and we were able to lock in some incredible models!

We are specifically seeking athletes and models who are not only outstanding in their fields but also share our project’s mission of representation and inclusion in outdoor sports. Many of the models we have chosen are involved in either operating or volunteering with nonprofits and organizations that promote participation in outdoor sports among people of color. Quannah ChasingHorse and her family started Native Youth Outdoors, which provides access to the slopes for Native Youth in Alaska. Juju Milay started Colour the Trails, a nation wide organization in Canada that helps get folks of color outdoors in many different sports.

How did you decide on which images to reimagine?
I spent about a year researching images and looked at different sources from library archives and books, to online archives.

My main source was actually the Wood River Historical Museum in Sun Valley. I spent hours going through old slides with an archivist looking at images and browsing their online archive. The historic images absolutely fascinate me! Many of the images that caught my eye were shot by Union Pacific Railroad photographers. The railroad started Sun Valley Resort and had their own photographers. Beyond those photos, I was drawn to the works of other photographers like Slim Aarons, George Silk and Ray Atkeson for their minimalistic style and ability to showcase the pure joy and pleasure of ski culture.

Historically, Black and Brown bodies have rarely been depicted in moments of joy, pleasure, and strength in photography. Instead, the images that dominate history often reflect narratives rooted in struggle or oppression. This absence speaks volumes and it’s one I seek to challenge with my work. In this photo series, I juxtapose Black and Brown bodies with spaces and scenes they have not traditionally been depicted in, such as the world of skiing and luxury. Slim Aarons’ work, for instance, often celebrated exclusivity and affluence, aligning closely with the early imagery of skiing in the U.S. By placing BIPOC+ individuals in these contexts—where their presence has historically been erased or marginalized—I want to reimagine these spaces and expand our understanding of who belongs in them.

How can people support the project?
If brands or agencies would like to support this project, they can either hire me for similar concepts or donate vintage clothing for the shoots. Anyone can contribute directly to the project by donating to the Sun Valley Museum of Art and specifying that the donation is for “A New Winter”. Supporters can also purchase fine art pieces through Ochi Gallery, where we offer a variety of sizes and price points. If you know a book publisher who might be interested, please connect me with them. Additionally, I am available to speak at your event! I have a 20-minute keynote presentation on the history of skiing and this project.

Can you share a little bit about the process from the first photo to creating the last photo?
This was quite a journey for us. In the first year, our goal was to prove we could even just make this happen with a dedicated team of eight people. We learned a lot, starting with five scenes that were all single portraits.

By the second year, we shot eight scenes, including three group shots. We went from having a small crew the first year to having over 30 people on set on year two for some of the scenes. During the second year we were way more set up because I had built community connections in Sun Valley like private supporters and the Sun Valley Resort that was a huge supporter of this project. They ran lifts for us even after they were closed, helped us dig snow pits and gave us lift access. One of the most unexpected parts of this project, was how much the community in Sun Valley showed up to support it and make it happen. I plan to continue it in the snow sports realm and beyond, and I’m excited to see how it evolves after being showcased at the museum and gallery this winter.

We sat together at Center in Santa Fe for The Democratic Lens: Photography and Civic Engagement lecture. What kind of framing did that provide?
Yes! Getting to hear that talk was such a treat. I remember it being very informative and was so grateful that you invited me. The talk was about how photography informs who belongs and the different ways photographs currently and previously influence citizenship and who is deemed worthy of it. The talk had a significant impact on this project because it helped me realize the true purpose of my work: to question how images inform and influence notions of belonging. How do images, especially in a historical context, inform and influence who belongs? How do historical images perpetuate stereotypes?

The Daily Edit – Standing Strong: Josué Rivas

Canoe ceremony at Oceti Sakowin Camp. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. August, 2016.
Children running free. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. August, 2016.
Men setting up an altar. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. August, 2016.
Spirit of the Missouri River. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. September, 2016.
Man braiding his hair. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. September, 2016.
Tepee poles. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
Thanksgiving ceremony. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
Water of Life. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
Police mace Water protectors. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
A group of women carry a wounded warrior. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
A man gets treated with a solution made of half liquid antacid and half water after being sprayed with mace. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
Police barricade. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
Chief Arvol Looking Horse sits near the Dakota Access Pipeline during a prayer. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
Resistance. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
Matriarch. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
Water protector praying by the river. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
A girl and her horse. Oceti Sakowin Camp. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
Diné walker. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
Elder praying during a peaceful demonstration. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
People cross a handcrafted bridge to Turtle Island, a sacred site and burial ground. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
People stand near a handcrafted bridge. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
Man under a tepee near the Dakota Access Pipeline. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
A woman walks in the snow during a blizzard. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
Two men get sprayed by law enforcement with high pressure water during a demonstration near the Oceti Sakowin Camp. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. November, 2016.
Last stand at Oceti Sakowin Camp. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. February, 2017.
The end of the Oceti Sakowin Camp. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. February, 2017
People peacefully leave the Oceti Sakowin Camp. Cannon Ball, North Dakota, USA. February, 2017.
Sacred Fire. Fort Yates, North Dakota, USA. September, 2017.
Young man putting down tobacco. Fort Yates, North Dakota, USA. September, 2017.
People harvesting wild sage. Fort Yates, North Dakota, USA. September, 2017.
Young man leaving a tepee. . Fort Yates, North Dakota, USA. September, 2017.

An upside down American flag waves at a healing gathering. Fort Yates, North Dakota, USA. September, 2017.

Creative Director: Josué Rivas
Founder of  INDÍGENA

Heidi: You drove 1,400 miles to Standing Rock and committed seven months of your life to being in the community, serving as a witness and documentarian to ensure that Indigenous perspectives were included in the narrative. Eight years later, the images made in “Standing Strong” remain iconic and impactful. How has this body of work informed your creative evolution?
Josue: In retrospect, I gained a deeper understanding of the significance of a movement transcending traditional creative practices. The protocols and prayers I experienced, led by both elders and youth at Standing Rock, were integral to this transformation. Addressing the question of creative evolution, it’s fascinating to reflect on how this large gathering was inherently infused with conflict. The challenge lies in honoring these moments through spiritual practice while still innovating the narrative. My approach to creating that work was rooted in intention—seeking to create a space where we could tell our own stories, which I believe is a fundamental human right. I think there’s something we can all learn from Indigenous stories, especially in this current time.

 


Two of your illustrated images appear in “Protecting the Right to Protest,” written by Annie Leonard. Can you share the story behind the weather conditions on the night when two water protectors were sprayed by police with high-pressure hoses? The image holds a tension between peace and violence, appearing almost magical at first glance.
On November 20, water protectors were sprayed with freezing water by law enforcement. Standing Rock represented a moment in time we probably won’t relieve in a while. These impactful moments served as a portal—through my documentation I hoped to document an awakening for both Indigenous peoples and society at large.

One of my mentors, Nick Tilsen who is the president and CEO of NDN, described this as the “curb cut effect.” When certain groups are treated with dignity, it leads to broader societal and cultural shifts in how we treat one another. The stories I create aim to ignite a piece of this curb effect by honoring Indigenous sovereignty.

Looking at Standing Rock and the lasting value of that work in society, I see how it can continue to evolve. It was during my time in the Magnum Foundation Fellowship with Fred Ritchin that he encouraged me to let go of the pressure to be overly precious about my images. He reminded me that I don’t have to be a traditional photojournalist or win a Pulitzer Prize to create images that are a cultural currency to society. This approach has influenced how I approach my later projects. The collaboration with Patagonia was a reflection of this, layering existing images with elements not visible through the lens.

How did your storytelling process align with current cultural narratives?
During my time at Standing Rock, I began to grasp the longevity of the experience and its stories. Storytelling should not merely document a fleeting moment or platform, nor should it reside solely in a viral image. The iconic image had a profound societal impact, yet it can be exchanged for something more immediate—a viral video or story that shifts perceptions and cultures. Layering images creates a new toolkit for storytellers. We are shifting away from the notion that an award represents the pinnacle of achievement, and embracing how short form videos or images from a smartphone can profoundly influence communities and society.


Purpose, collective healing, and the power of community are central to your work. Why do you believe this story held purpose and power?
In an era where social media dominates our lives, it’s crucial to remember that it can serve as a transformative tool—regenerative instead of exploitative. My intent is to reveal through this work that transformation is possible when you share your story.

I’ve always appreciated the added layers of context that photography and storytelling can provide, tell us about your process.
With the Patagonia project, we layered images, granting the process its own significance while remaining open to how it might be perceived.
For “The Right To Protest” project, I collaborated closely with artist Tekpatl from our creative agency INDÍGENA. Despite my busy schedule, we leaned on one another to showcase various layers of the story. This collaboration was particularly poignant since the images we illustrated were created on Thanksgiving Day about seven years prior. Tekpatl brought balance to our work, grounding it by representing unseen energies in the images—using a technique Yael Martinez introduced in photojournalism, who has been a significant inspiration

Please download, print this image and scan the QR code in the bottom right.

When did you begin incorporating AR into your photography? Was “Be a Good Ancestor” the starting point for your multimedia and motion work?
I’ve always seen myself as more than a photographer and more of a conduit to something bigger than myself. My intention is to be of service. What happens when we accept that images are tools for society, not mere illusions; they can convey truths. Can one story carry a universal truth?

To try and find the answer to some of these questions we created “Standing Strong,” a multi-disciplinary visual project using augmented reality and community intervention. This project showed how we can innovate within our imagery while embracing new technologies—the message continues to evolve and spread.

Empowering Indigenous youth and refining journalism to be more inclusive and collaborative are essential values in your work. Fast forward to 2022; as a juror for the World Press Photo Contest and with your recent inclusion in the ICP’s exhibit “We Are Here: Scenes from the Streets,” have you noticed increased representation among storytellers?
Yes and no, at times I see the intention for collective change and it’s also a process. I think our days are ahead as we build systems to transform visual storytelling. I think it’s the beginning of the blossoming of years worth of work by people that came before us, we just keep doing the work.

You founded INDÍGENA. Are you returning to your role as a witness and documentarian, ensuring Indigenous perspectives are part of the narrative—especially in light of recent election results?
Social Justice Documentary work is always going to be part of my creative practice, it’s also limiting. I see this practice as an evolving song, an offering. Currently, I am co- documenting stories from boarding school survivors through a trauma informed lens. We are also innovating the way we tell those stories. Reflecting on the recent election results, I see how images will be powerful tools for communication and change but also confusion. We have reached a point where images serve not only as interpretations but as instruments for shifting societal consciousness. Ultimately, I hope my work demonstrates that transformation is possible when you share your story.

The Daily Edit – Rosser Lebeau

   
Rosser / Lebeau

Francois and Ben say “life is an intricate narrative that requires us to appreciate its depth and authenticity by embracing its genuine, spontaneous, and natural beauty.” By adopting a documentary approach, they focus on capturing spontaneous, realistic moments to showcase the raw beauty of life and evolved their friendship into a new photography business. I checked in with them to learn more now that Volume 2 is out.

Heidi: How did your friendship begin?
Rosser / Lebeau: It was in 2012. We were both new to living in NYC and learning how to navigate that place. Our paths were bound to cross because we were both in the photo industry already and avid rock climbers. We got to assist a friend at the same time, and we just got along instantly. We started rock climbing and sharing photo ideas, knowledge, and experience, and our friendship just grew from this.

Now that you are 4 years into this project, what surprised you about this new endeavor?
It surprises us that we’ve been doing this together for four years! Also, the reception of our service has been above and beyond our expectations. Our work gets in front of people who appreciate what we observe in the daily lives of the families we work with, which is very rewarding. To see that our initial vision and drive found their audience, we couldn’t ask for better.

As a team, we consistently reevaluate the business, asking each other what we could do differently to improve, which leads to a to-do list that we are tackling one by one. But as of now, I don’t really know what we could have done differently cause it’s been going quite well.

Ben’s photography career has some early influences from event, fashion, and celebrity photography, and François’s in the outdoor industry – how did both these influences inform your business?
The experience we were able to accumulate helped to mold how we approach our shoots with Rosser / Lebeau. When we met, we realized quickly that we had a very similar taste in photography. Being observant, and build the strength of a photograph through composition, light, and somewhat the decisive moment. In Ben’s career, there’s a lot of this that is applicable to get the best of his coverage or portraiture. Always need to be fully present and have a high sense of anticipation.

On François’s career side, it is practically the same, but just in a different environment. Planning the shoot around the best light, be there and ready for the unexpected, and being involved with the story itself to have a high sense of intimacy through the images.

All those tools, from our perspective, are necessary to allow ourselves to create what we want to create with Rosser / Lebeau. Working with kids is not easy, and it can go in EVERY direction imaginable. So when we decided to take the leap, we were well-equipped to start this endeavor. We’ve learned a lot since then, and that new knowledge pays back now in our solo careers too.

How do you complement each other?
Great question. Ben has a high sense of elevated imagery, due to his background covering celebrities, fashion, and events. Well composed, clean, and thoughtful. Ben always has good remarks on what makes a good photograph and how we can improve from one image to the next.

François, on his side, always loved the saying “imperfect perfection”. He often embraces being organic and in the moment, often pushing further in that realm to see through what people should expect. He is a firm believer there’s beauty in anything and uses it to his advantage when he creates.

On the business side, well, we learn together everyday. We definitely have separate strengths that when combined, makes those tasks easier too.

François is a father of two now, how is family life fueling that creativity? Do you think you’d take the same photos if you were both child-free? This is assuming Ben has kids….
Francois: I think having kids doesn’t affect much how I perceive things. At least for me. But what I understand way more is the value of those images we are doing for the families. When Ben gets to spend time with us in Colorado, he always carry his camera and shoots loosely. And ALL the images that he takes are SOOO precious to us. I cannot imagine how it is to receive a gallery of that caliber, without being used to be surrounded by quality imagery.

It just lines up with our motivation when we started Rosser / Lebeau : We wanted to create images that will last a lifetime and be passed to the next generations, instead of being a short lived creation that the nature of commercial photography is. And by experiencing it myself, it means a lot to have those images for our family.

In Volume 2 the images feel more intimate, and graphic – is this a reflection of you both feeling more comfortable in this new space?
Probably just the nature of putting the hours in. We have more opportunities, we met many types of families and people, and we also have the work we created that supports us. We are totally aware that it is very vulnerable to open yourself to be photographed this way, but when people embrace it and feel comfortable with us, that’s when ‘’the good stuff’’ happens.

How much time do you spend with the families, there’s spontaneity and intimacy to this work which is hard-won.
We allow ourselves to let things happen, so the classic 30 minutes session is not applicable for us. If we want to deliver the product and service we promise ourselves to do, a minimum of 2 hours is a must, but if we feel the energy is still there and thing are happening (or will happen) we will definitely stay with the family.

Do you both travel to the locations or is the work divided by location?
Definitely. We had inquiries from all over the continent and hoping that we will find a way to make it sustainable even on the international level. For families, we shoot them most of time solo. Ben being located in NYC will take care of the east coast, while Francois being in Denver will connect with the people on the west coast. Everything is interchangeable depending on availabilities, but it’s been working great like this. And for weddings, we tackle the coverage together. Having our style being very similar, it is nice to be working under the Rosser / Lebeau umbrella, and being able to trust each other with delivering images of the quality our company aspires to.

The Daily Edit – Red Bull: Paris Gore

Brage, Kade and Brett Rheeder
Brage Vestavik and Kade Edwards
Brage Vestavik
Brett Rheeder
Brage Vestavik and Kade Edwards
Brage, Kade and Brett Rheeder
Brett Rheeder
Brage, Kade and Brett Rheeder
Paris, Brage and Kade

Red Bull Media House
Photographer: Paris Gore
Anthill Films Director: Darcy Wittenberg

Heidi: How did your personal life and love of riding evolve into this project with RedBull?
Paris: A few years ago I had done some heli biking in the Andes outside of Santigao, Chile and flowing around some areas that had these massive 4,000 foot plus open faces that could totally be ridden by the right athletes. We were filming for a Specialized Bikes gear shoot in 2022 and came back from that trip with a ton of knowledge and contacts in the area. Jumping forward to the following year Darcy Wittenberg (Anthill Films Director) and I sat down last summer 2023 to chat about a potential new movie they were working on with Red Bull. Anthill has produced some of my favorite bike films of all time and grew up watching some of the original films on repeat. Darcy wanted to know if I had any knowledge of some big mountain freeride biking zones that would push the boundaries of what has been done before. Turns out my previous trips insight was enough to sell Anthill on Red Bull on going there for this movie project.

What made this feel like a long shot?
Pitching the idea to Darcy felt like a long shot, but as the conversations went on it sounded like the trip was going to happen with Brage Vestavik, Kade Edwards and Brett Rheeder with a full film crew, two helicopters and some of the most exposed riding anyone has ever attempted to ride in the world. I’ve pitched a lot of ideas before and they all are usually well accepted but never the right “fit” for a brand or too much money, etc. So it felt really rewarding that this entire production was trusting what I had seen down there and actually went for it considering how much money was being spent to produce this segment all I could think about now was hoping that it actually works to ride these faces.

Dream jobs like this often come with risk, reward – what was the situation that led to the crux move for the crew?
Kade and Brage evidently had found this line they wanted to ride; we named the Horny Condor which was a couloir through some massive rock exposure and was super tricky to ride the top portion of. So we had to bring in tools to bench in some dirt for the guys to safely get into the line before freeriding down to the bottom. I’m finishing up in the helicopter making our way over to the top and we get word that Kade and Brage have both broken all the tools they have and need one from the truck and lodge. I get deemed the man for the job and jump in the heli to fuel up and grab these tools for the boys.

The intensity of a situation ramps when someone uses your first name to give a directive, true?
Tools in the back of the chopper, me and the pilot make our way back up into the zone where the guys are working and Julio has a wild idea to fly into the area and land on a semi truck sized boulder. Things were starting to get a little crazy now and I’m thinking what in the actual fuck is this guy doing. A pilot myself I started to feel the adrenaline coming on and feeling the intensity of the situation I’m getting in. Julio starts flying up the line blasting rotorwash down on the crew and I’m like dude I don’t think is a great call but he puts a skid on this rock holding collective and tells me “Ok Paris, open the door and put the tools on the rock”. Which I began to do and unable to reach behind me, I have to undo the full harness I’m locked into. Immediately, Julio is throws his hand onto my chest and says “NO” So I buckle up and eventually get the pick axes out the door onto this rock ledge he’s got hardly one helicopter skid on. We do a wild turn out and land on a river bank with my blood pumping into my brain so hard I could hear it.

Along with being an athlete you’re a trained pilot, how has that informed your creativity and ability to navigate jobs?
Being an athlete and pilot myself, I genuinely live the sports and adventures I shoot so it really translates into authenticity while on an assignment. It helps me have a better connection to the subjects and people I’m shooting with finer detail. The other part of that is also just being able to get into certain situations that require experience in the mountains. Being able to snowmobile, snowboard or mountain bike into hard to get places gives you an advantage to really put yourself in the same terrain as a professional skier or mountain biker. Being awarded jobs due to this is definitely a factor, most athletes or brands might be hesitant to work with someone that is more green and could pose a risk to the crew because at the end of the day we are all working as a team for safety, hazards and ability to get where we need to go

Were you shooting mostly from the heli along with reportage of pre and post riding?
It was a mix with the helicopter since it’s time is expensive and limited there were a few shots where I was able to shoot from the helicopter. It’s a lot trickier than you might think but in the end it’s always worth it. We would also get dropped onto opposing ridges or slopes that would give us a solid angle without needing to shoot out of the helicopter which was generally the most ideal scenario. The only speciality equipment I had brought was a Nikon 180-600mm lens due to the sheer size of the mountains it was absolutely necessary.

What was the directive from the film crew? how did you integrate – remain unobtrusive?
We worked together easily to perch in a similar area together with another filmer so we never really got in each others way. Since most of the angles they are shooting are what I would need as well or vice versa.

Were stills integrated as part of the final film or supplemental creative?
The stills were not used in the film itself but more in the promotion and titles for trailers, youtube, Red Bull TV, etc.

 

The Daily Edit – Powder Magazine: Anthony Smith

Powder Magazine

Editor – Derek Taylor
Director of Photography – David Reddick
Art Director – Hart Vandelay
Photographer: Anthony Smith

Heidi: Have you always been multi-hyphenated? By that, I mean photographer and photo editor. Which came first?
Anthony: I studied photography at art school, but in the first few year’s post-graduation, shooting photos didn’t pay the bills. So, you could argue that my role as a photo editor came first, as it allowed me to earn a living as a full-time creative. At that time, I hadn’t found my own voice in photography, and working as a photo editor was extremely beneficial for my development. Being immersed in other photographers’ work—seeing their successes and failures—gave me a strong vision of what I wanted my own work to be. I can’t imagine how I would have reached my current point without those experiences.

How does your love of sport inform your work, both past and present?
I believe it’s challenging to shoot sports effectively without being an athlete yourself. Having that experience gives you a deeper understanding of the emotions and moments you’re trying to capture, which can tell a richer story for the audience. I’ve always been fascinated by sports imagery that isn’t overly literal, challenging the viewer to engage on a deeper level. I’m interested in uncovering stories about the human experience through sport.

Were your early photo editing roots in snow culture and sport?
Yes, but it happened somewhat by accident. A college internship with Bike and Powder set me on that path. Without that opportunity and the connections I made, it’s hard to imagine how a Canadian kid would have broken into the publishing world and become a photo editor in Southern California. A few years after that internship, a full-time position opened up, and I joined Bike and Powder as an assistant photo editor.

Did you and Dave cross paths at BIKE?
Yes, I worked for BIKE for nearly a decade, from 2010 to 2019. For the first five years of my tenure, Dave Reddick was the photo editor for both Bike and Powder, so we worked closely together on both titles. I was fortunate to learn from Dave; he has a wealth of knowledge and a keen eye for storytelling. I certainly had big shoes to fill when I took the reins at Bike in 2015. This recent shoot for Powder is the first time we’ve worked together since my time on staff.

Why do you think those sports verticals are still relevant for print in 2024?
I sense a growing enthusiasm for print these days, which may be a biased opinion given my background in the print world. Personally, there’s nothing quite like the feeling of seeing my images in print. The collaboration between the photographer, writer, editorial team, and art director results in something that feels carefully crafted and thoughtfully put together. I believe this process resonates with people, especially in a visual landscape that often caters to short attention spans. More than ever, I feel that print has a relevant place in today’s media landscape.

 What was the direction for photographing Bryce?
I believe that Dave met Bryce James last ski season. He described Bryce’s collection to me as extensive, and we brainstormed ideas on how to capture it; however, I don’t think either of us could have anticipated just how in-depth it truly was. The space was small, yet Bryce had a remarkable awareness of where everything was and how each pile was supported by its respective treasures. Every piece had a story intertwined with its surroundings. Any initial thoughts we had about photographing a few key pieces separately with Bryce felt like the wrong direction once I experienced the incredible environment. The project was as much about Bryce and his passion for the history of skiing as it was about the collection itself, so capturing him alongside the pieces felt completely natural.

 What made this project unique, and how did it stretch your creativity?
Documenting something as vast as Bryce’s collection presented a significant creative challenge. There are countless ways to approach such an extensive subject. From the moment I walked in, I could sense his enthusiasm—not just for his collection, but for the history of ski culture as well. I allowed that enthusiasm and our conversation to guide the direction of the shoot. I focused on listening to all the stories and shooting in an unobtrusive manner to avoid disruption. Each story naturally led to the next, creating a very organic flow. However, after a few hours of shooting and talking, I left his house feeling as though I hadn’t captured enough to do the collection justice, even though I knew only a handful of photos would ultimately be used to convey the story.

Are you a decent editor of your work? Twelve images were published; how many selects did you turn in?
By that metric, perhaps I’m not the best editor, as I turned in around 100 photos. However, I believe the conversations that happen behind the scenes with the art director and photo editor play a crucial role in striking the right balance between design and photography, often leading to unexpected directions for photo selects. During my time as a photo editor, I always preferred having more options rather than fewer. I truly enjoyed collaborating with our art director, as I loved being hands-on in the design process. We would exchange InDesign files back and forth to revise photo selects, layout options, and design treatments. This approach felt much more organic than simply passing along selects and waiting to see what layout would come back. With that perspective, I tend to overdeliver, assuming that the team I’m passing images to appreciates that collaborative workflow as well.

 Do you have any personal projects on deck? What are you most stoked about photographically?
I’m really excited about shooting outside of my comfort zone these days. I thrive on being placed in situations—like the one with Bryce James—that feel creatively challenging. At this point in my career, I feel I have the creative tools to solve those puzzles and tell compelling stories. I haven’t always felt capable of approaching projects like this effectively in the past, so it feels great to be comfortable in the unknown these days.

 

 

The Daily Edit – Douglas Marshall: Marshall Gallery

Artist Talk with Krista Svalbonas

Artist Consultation with photographer Michael James Hillman

Founder and Curator: Douglas Marshall
Marshall Gallery
Current Exhibition

Heidi: How long have you been doing portfolio reviews?
Douglas: Well, I’ve been doing reviews overall close to a decade now I guess. I’ve done many of the review festivals around the country as well as looking at countless portfolios in the galleries over the years. But for the last 2 or 3 years I have been doing the private portfolio reviews, meeting with artists one-on-one either online or at my Santa Monica gallery. These started in response to the ubiquity of the standard 20m-minute tabletop review format. Many people on both sides of the table relate to a form of speed dating. I found many artists felt unsatisfied, understandably, never getting to any depth in such a short meeting. So these longer private meetings allow us to go there. And that many artists had nuts and bolts questions about the gallery world which can often be murky and gate kept. Like commission percentages, production costs related to exhibitions, pricing, etc.

What form do you like to review photography work? Formed or unformed – one is open to possibilities, the other you build together as the discussion unfolds.
As far as the state of work we review… The work can be at any stage really, I just put myself in a position to help in whatever way is useful. It can sometimes be like a therapy session haha!  Sometimes the work is raw and unformed and it’s editing people want to go through and general framework development… what’s working, what’s not. Other times they are finished portfolios with which people want to discuss things like pricing, editions, printing, and gallery relationships. The former, for me, is more my background as a once-upon-a-time artist myself and the latter from my 15 years in the gallery field having worked for four galleries before starting my own. But I always try to be honest and direct with the artists. No one just wants a pat on the back, they are there for the fair criticism. There is so much BS in the art world, people appreciate honesty.

I do prefer to look at prints, when possible, but of course virtual meetings open the reviews to many more artists around the world. In person always allows for deeper connections and when artists ask about doing festival reviews, I always encourage to do in-person only. This business is all about relationships, and you can’t accomplish quite the same thing online.

Your gallery has a specific focus, was that in response to seeing beyond the medium – looking towards the hybrid of where photography and art intersect? Reframe photography?
Yes, the gallery focuses primarily on what I often refer to as process-based photography. That is to say, that for me and my curatorial focus the physical or conceptual act of how the photograph is made is of equal weight as what it visually records. So many of the artists whom I present use experimental analog processes, unique printing techniques, mixed media with painting, embroidery, etc.

The focus of which is probably three-fold in origin. My background in school and early in my career was all black and white humanist photography. Street, documentary, etc. But as I got exposed to the wider photo world primarily through visiting international art fairs, I began to see a growing prevalence of these experimental practices from contemporary artists and their origins in art history. I also have a love for the “traditional” fine arts, like painting and sculpture, so it sparked my interest to see the boundaries between them and photography blurred in contemporary work.

Sunburned GSP#1076 (Dietrich River, Arctic Circle, Alaska), 2015. two 12″x 41″ unique gelatin silver paper negatives

For the artists, my thinking is that it’s somewhat of a reaction, conscious or otherwise, to the mass consumption and ubiquity of digital images. Mass even seems an understatement with some billions of images produced daily. To see the work of an artist like say Chris McCaw, our current exhibition, who is creating real objects with his method of photography is so refreshing in a world drowning in pixels. We are just tired of staring at screens and want to get our hands dirty like painters, there is something quintessentially human about working with material while still loving the documentary / story-telling potential of the camera. And then for me, realizing there were few if any galleries focused on this intersection, I decided that my gallery would do so, but it’s always evolving.

We met when your studio was on Abbot Kinney, fast forward to today – what has changed, and how has your gallery evolved beyond showing work?
I’m not sure too much has changed. Even in the 500 sq ft shoebox in Venice where we met I was trying to produce exciting and ambitious shows. Now I just have 3x the space to do so. But certainly, Bergamot Station has a certain legacy of galleries and especially with focus on photography. So being here allowed me more access to collectors, curators and foot traffic by proximity with my gallery neighbors, many of whom I have worked with over the years.

But I am happy to say with certainty the gallery’s capabilities and awareness has grown exponentially since then, having recently exhibited in the most important international photography fairs and making regular acquisitions with major museums, both important signifiers that something we’re doing here is working.

Beyond the exhibitions, we of course host the private consulting appointments as well as quarterly critique nights that we call “Static Fire” where we invite four photo-artists to show work in progress with about two dozen guests and just have a fun night looking at work. We sell tickets for these events to cover costs and afford a small donation to various local art non-profits like Las Fotos Project and Venice Arts, both of whom are doing great work for LA youth. These have been fun and for me less pressure than the requisite salesmanship that is required for the exhibitions.

Robert Adams, House Construction, Colorado. 1975 Vintage silver gelatin print 6 x 7 1/2 in.

Rodrigo Valenzuela, New Land, 2024. Toner ink on canvas with acrylic. 36 x 48 in.

How you are defining the two sets of artists you are showing?
Well, most of my career pre-Marshall Gallery was in showing 19th and 20th Century work which has a strong market and thus many legacy galleries focus there. So, while the main exhibitions at Marshall focus on contemporary work, I really enjoy putting their work in conversation with vintage works which I source from a network of collaborative collectors in LA. For example, a recent show juxtaposed UCLA Photo Professor Rodrigo Valenzuela’s mixed-media works from his “New Land” series with vintage prints from the 1970s New Topographics movement such as Robert Adams and Henry Wessel. Both had conceptual angles of thinking about land use in the American West. It also helps to bridge the gap to contemporary work for collectors who may typically only be interested in vintage works. Many collectors are wary of the edition systems of contemporary photography, so I think it helps when works are one-of-a-kind due to the physical process of the artist.

Ultimately, I love the history of the medium and revere so many of our bygone photo-heroes, so I do love to show them when it makes sense with the contemporary show on view. But certainly, most of my energy goes to the artists working today. I keep close relationships with my artists, it’s like a sort of creative marriage.

The Daily Edit – Marshall McKinney: Garden & Gun


Creative Director: Marshall McKinney

Heidi: In our last interview in 2008 you had just taken the helm at Garden & Gun, a national magazine about a regional lifestyle – fast forward to 2024, tell us about this magnificent, long run as Creative Director.

Marshall: It all began in April of 2008 for me at G&G. What a run. Sixteen years! That’s like ten plus six years. That’s like 5,843.88 days according to Siri. This means I’ve lumbered through 192 weeks of closings (that’s 3.68 years of deadlines for those still doing the math). Can you believe it? Nope, neither can I. So many long days and nights sussing out and sorting through big ideas, prose, pictures and sketches to build a print brand unlike any other. Then, we were a small scrappy crew of misfits. Seriously, like eight of us. Some with no magazine experience at all. Didn’t matter. Within us burned the intangibles: heart, drive, determination, spirit, resourcefulness and f@#ing energy to burn, baby! Today, the foot is still hard on the gas and without a doubt, the brand, driven by the passions and minds of its people, is hurtling headlong into a bold new future. Unfortunately, this is where I get off. August, 2024. Adios.

T’was a thrill ride. In my professional career, I never thought I’d be so blessed as to work with the finest, sharpest minds in all of “Magazine-dom,” both internally and externally. I’ve watched interns come up through the ranks to become some of the best writers, editors, and photo editors in the business. I’ve seen editors and art directors go on to become VPs. Watched publishing prophets hail the coming of the iPad only to see it snuffed out like some ole Camel Light. To be sure, I’ve seen it all. Done it all. Er, won it all, #athankyouverymuchg&g. And, I wouldn’t change or trade a damn thing.

G&G’s success is, and always will be, directly connected to the creativity, fire and gusto that resonates in the youthful souls of the folks who bring it to life. Each person I interacted with there, young or old, was a remarkable teacher and I am grateful for the experiences shared and learned.

So, now that I’m slowly gliding into this next phase of my professional life, and can take a breath, if only for a minute, I have the luxury of hindsight. Thus, I’ve agreed to tackle a few questions from APE. An exit interview if you will. Buckle up. Here goes

What are your three favorite covers and why?
I not picking these covers on technical acumen or whiz-bang execution but rather on the “feels and vibes” and times associated with the experiences shared while nabbing them. I thrive in that space where ideas are manifested and sketched over morning coffee—together—before jumping in the car or on a plane to get them in the can. I adore all my photographers and I’m 100% sure I dig 98% of my covers. There are outliers but like red-headed children we tolerate them all the same—even when they do look a little kooky and act funny.

I only partner up on covers with people I trust.  I know them on a personal level and usually we have a deep rapport. Heck, all my lensmen are brilliant, empathic, whip-smart artists, technicians and masters at their craft. So again, I’m only picking these three covers through gauzy reflection, and like children, I don’t really have a “favorite” or three favs but here goes:

1. Dec 2019 – Jan 2020 Photographed by Gately Ben Williams

Keep it stripped down when you can.
This cover shoot was quite simply a fun trip with one of my best friends, Gately Ben Williams and his new, lovely and talented bride (and one-time co-worker of mine), Hunter. The idea was to take a road trip down to the Santa Fe river in Florida and get something that felt warm for a winter issue.

My mind, where covers are concerned, always leans toward the graphic and composed. If that happens to come off “arty” occasionally, well, so be it. My intention is not to be “arty” which I associate with fey, contrite or, worse yet, cute. Finally, my experience with newsstand covers is simple: don’t fuck around trying to be something you’re not. Be definitive. Be uniquely yourself and true to brand. Always and in all ways.

I want my G&G covers to be two things: direct and filled with as much subtext as possible. Meaning, the image has to hit on the reader’s senses (taste, smell, sound, etc). Get them to feel the coolness of the water for example or stop for a moment to reflect on the sounds they might have heard the last time they went tubing. I want to trigger a memory of, say, spending time with their spouse in their younger years at some watering hole of their own. Maybe it gets them to reflect on their own daughters growing up? The point is, subtext to me is leveraging the power of the form.

We are busy people living busy lives. As a creative director a big part of my job is to choreograph moments that give pause in the service of sparking fantasy or aspirations. So, back to Florida. After a long day of trying a number of ideas, which rendered shots that were great but perhaps too sexy or pinup-ish, at dusk I went back to the original sketch, the first big idea. You don’t ever have the luxury of time on a cover shoot. Making the manufactured feel authentic is an art unto itself. In order to pull that off, I highly recommend sketching out your ideas long beforehand.

On this day there were a bunch of kids in the springs splashing and playing along a dock, not the best situation for what I wanted the image to communicate, solitude and stillness. But, as the day waned, they slowly—mercifully—left the area. That’s when Ben and I were able to move to the end of the dock and shoot down on Hunter.

I love this image for a lot of reasons. One, Ben and Hunter gave me so much of their energy throughout the day. They gave me so many variations that could be used in the interior of the magazine, and that’s something I value. Two, everything we do as creatives, at its best, is a partnership predicated on balance and trust. I trusted Ben to give me a number of stellar solutions and, in turn, he trusted me and gave his all to my sketched idea. Three, the image is graphic. It plays with repetition of form. It’s tranquil and calm which lends to the narrative I wanted to achieve. The water is clear. The image has essence and to my eye it’s a catalyst for subtextual think. That being: I could use some stillness. I could use a vacation in warm waters. I’d love to be somewhere fun with my wife and daughter. Finally, this image reminds me of all the cocktails and conversation that flowed with these two lovebirds after we wrapped the shoot. Truly, it was a wonderful couple days work all around.

I’ve taken on many a cover mission like this with shooters including: Rob (and Lisa) Howard, Michael Turek, Brie Williams, David McClister, Robby Klein and others. All mega talented, affable, easy spirits that are a joy to behold and work alongside especially when it’s a stripped down scenario like this and not some big ass production.

2. Feb/March 2019

Throw the kitchen sink at it whenever you gotta and just build the damn thing.
What you see here is a bar we built in The Voorhes studio by some of the most baller, open, gracious, energetic and creative people in the business. Adam and wife Robin, assisted by the incomparable, Nicki Longoria took a sketch I made and ran with it a hundred times farther than I could have ever hoped. We had a custom neon sign made. We had working beer taps. We had a stuffed squirrel drunk on Miller Lite. This was devised at a time in publishing when covers needed that extra wink in order move the needle on digital newsstands—talking to you Apple. So of course I wanted everything to be analog and made of hand whenever and wherever possible.

Could we have shot this in some cool bar somewhere? Mmmmm, maybe? With that comes a whole host of other problems which I won’t go into now. Trust me, they are many. This to me felt like the only solution and it all started with a sign maker and the energy and can-do spirit Adam and team brought to solving the conundrum.

I’m not sure what’s in the water down there in Texas but if you head that way knock on The Voorhees or Darren Braun or Fredrick Broden’s door. No telling what you might find going on behind it.


3. Dec 2008 / Jan 2009.

This cover by Andy Anderson was a revelatory moment for me. Affably nicknamed, “Turtle Junk,” after the New York Times wrote a review—a positive one!—of our brand, it was the impetus that got my head screwed on tight as to how best to feature and approach subjects on G&G’s coves. It’s so singular and unique. It’s composed. It’s direct. It’s awash in story, cultural richness and wonder. It’s simple and in that way it’s elegant and timeless. Mostly though, it wasn’t until I put eyes on the image that I knew how we were going to visually stand apart.

Up until that moment G&G was kind of wobbly, like a newborn giraffe, the way a lot of new launches are in the beginning. It took seeing that image for me to begin to understand what the brand was telling me it wanted to be. For better or worse I’m not one to immediately suggest what I think any brand should be. I have instincts but I ain’t no Mussolini. I like to listen to the market and the material, then I like to react to what I think they’re suggesting to me. I can’t stand it when people march in on their high-horse talking so much shit about what they think this or that is. I’d rather saunter in on a turtle’s back—that way they never see you coming—and build something beautiful and solidly stable, together.

Further, where covers are concerned, were it not for the talents and eye of photographers Peter Frank Edwards, Squire Fox, David McClister, Andrew Kornylack, Johnny Autry, Brie Williams, Brent Humphreys, Amy Dickerson, Jim Herrington and Dan Winters G&G wouldn’t be here today. Truly, it’s all about the company you keep and they are the finest.


Do you have a favorite spread?
That’s impossible for me to answer. Not because I like so many but rather I have so few. Still, I’ll give you one I like a lot. It’s pretty simple but I just dig it.

Here’s the backstory: We asked Dan Winters to shoot musician, James McMurtry for us down in Texas. I spoke with Dan on the phone about how much I liked James’ music and about what he meant to me as a blue-collar genre-bender out there pounding stages night after night after night. I told him I felt a kinship with him. Perhaps Dan felt the same way because almost an hour had passed and we still hadn’t spoken about the shoot. Of course that didn’t matter to me because, well, Dan’s the man as they say. And I tend to agree.

Couple weeks later the images arrive in classic Winter’s style. Stoic. Iconic. Proud. Singular. Then, it occurred to me, oh shit, I gotta figure out what the fuck to do for the design. It was late in the cycle. I needed to turn this one around fast. Yet, I couldn’t. I felt helpless. I just wasn’t locking in on something worthy or original. It was torture.

I’m thinking to myself, this guy Winters is best buddies with all the great art directors and editors across the land. What the hell can I do that he’s never seen before? Am I even capable of hitting a high-taste level that honors a hardworking man like, James McMurtry? Oh, shit.

After an excruciating battle with self-doubt and worry, while sipping a couple of bourbons, it’s 1 a.m. and I’m still sitting at my desk in the office twiddling my thumbs. Part of the problem might have rested with the edit team. Maybe they were feeling the same way about the headline as I did about the design? They didn’t seem to have much cooking yet or, maybe they did and it just felt flat? Dunno, can’t remember. The one recollection I do have was that I put on McMurtry’s version of a tune called, Choctaw Bingo. I cranked that motherfucker up as loud as my i-mac would go and I stood up and danced. Right there in the middle of my office, which I shared with Maggie Kennedy, my photo editor, I shook my ass. Then, thoroughly awash in spirit, I cranked out a giant “J” with a guitar’s sound hole in the middle along with some filigree that felt a bit like McMurtry’s hair blowing in the breeze. With that I yee-hawed and went home to bed.

The next day I showed it to Sid Evans, my editor at the time, thinking he’d blow it apart because there was no definitive headline. Instead, he looked at it and nodded. Print it. We did. Not that we had a lot of other options because we were out of time and my hangover was setting in pretty good.

What would you tell anyone getting into the magazine business today?
To would be publishers:The sweet spot is somewhere between a mass newsstand magazine and a coffee table book. Do something deliberate and focused and beautiful. Do it on the best stock you can afford, no more than four times a year. Believe in your dream. Never give up. Don’t let obstacles stop you. Then, I’d advise them to buy a lottery ticket every couple weeks.

To journalists and editors: Tell the truth. Your currency and value is in your candor. Be your authentic self and find your own voice. Also, learn to think like an art director.

To photographers whom I fucking adore!: My best advice is to study a few masters, really lock in on them. Learn how to compose images that are graphic and expressive. Play. Write. Sketch. Work to become a natural born salesman, philosopher, psychologist and light-hound. Become proficient in the language of the trade. And, when you sense a trust building with an art director or fellow creative lean in and partner up. It’s amazing how far you can go, together. Lastly, pay close attention to all the others on the periphery of your craft. Explore the subtleties of make-up, watch what the stylists are doing and why, educate yourself on food propping and styling and acquire skill in interiors, exteriors, portraiture, reportage and more. Give yourself a wide base of knowledge then slowly tighten the focus on what you find the most interesting. NEVER STOP. NEVER GIVE UP.

What would you tell your younger self?
To my younger self I’d just say this: Stay resilient, hombre. Trust the process. Stay true to yourself and to those who are offering you their hard-earned knowledge. Make those folks an ally. While acumen can get you to the doorstep it’s experienceresolve and connection that’s going to define you and carry you across the threshold. Hold on tight Bubba! It’s gonna be a weird and bumpy ride.

The Daily Edit – Roe v Wade: Kate Fanning


Roe v Wade: Denver Protest: Patagonia

Photographer: Kate Fanning

Heidi: How would you define your photography style?
Kate: I would describe my style as honest. I’m not interested in perfect or highly manipulated images. There’s no grit there, no story. I want my work to represent and feel like the moment I was in. While I want viewers to see the way I see things, more importantly, I want them to decide how my images make them think or feel.

What moments appealed to your eye?
Opposites. Moments of juxtaposition. Messages written on the backs of signs, while the sign-holders moved forward. Fluorescent flashes of cardboard against heavy, black clouds. Mighty impactful phrases with so few words. A bright, rainbow pride flag, draped across the gloomy, gray facade of our Capitol building – a beacon of hope for equality, while standing in the trenches of inequality.

What moved you the most about this story? 
The American flag flying upside down. It was a gut-punch that I wasn’t expecting. I’m a Daughter of the American Revolution, and I come from a long line of veterans. Respect for our flag and country was instilled in me from a young age. When I wanted to buy Chuck Taylors in the eighth grade with an American flag print, my Mom said, “I won’t let you wear something on your feet that we fought so hard to defend.” I stood at my Father’s and Grandfather’s gravesites, listened 21-gun salutes that dropped me to my knees, and watched as their flags were lifted off their coffins, folded with such meticulous care and finally, handed over. My siblings and I grew up as flag code defenders, and I know what it means to fly it upside down. When I saw those stars waving in the wrong spot, I felt it – we’re in trouble.

What surprised you the most about this project?
Most surprisingly, were the intimate details that women so courageously shared. Stories of their lives scribbled with Sharpies on posters that lined a stormy sky. Skystories, I thought. Stories of loss, stories of rape, stories of religion, politics, grief, and anger. Stories that had nowhere else to go, except for up. I found myself wanting to tell everyone ‘thank you’. Thank you for sharing your trauma, thank you for showing up, thank you for fighting for the least of us, thank you for not quitting…please…don’t quit.

What do you hope for, for those who can become pregnant?
I hope it’s their choice. I hope their family is supported. I hope they get to raise children in a country that values babies AND parents. I hope their kids don’t grow up to fight this same damn fight.

The Daily Edit – Cliford Mervil: Outside Magazine


Outside Magazine

 

Design & Photography Director: Hannah McCaughey
Photo Editor: Kyra Kennedy
Photographer: Cliford Mervil

 

Heidi: How did this cover idea come about? 
Kyra: When we got the list of places for our travel section I was excited to see North Carolina on the list. I had worked with Clif last summer on a project based in NC, and had really wanted to find another to work with him on. The entire cover idea mostly came from working with Clif and getting to priorize a part of the country we dont often cover. We end up doing a lot of shoots in CA because the weather is so consistent, but I really like when we are able to highlight other parts of the country that have fantastic adventure opportunities!

Was this cover image a first for Outside magazine? 
Clif had sent us a list of local models that he had worked with before, and we instantly gravitated towards Ron Griswell’s amazing energy and smile! We thought it would be great to have two people on the cover and when Ron suggested his wife Linea we thought it would be so much more natural to have them pose together instead of putting Ron with another model. It was Outside’s first cover with a Black couple, and I’m really happy that we were able to have Ron and Linea because their relationship is truly something for all of us to aspire to. They have such an intuitive relationship and such strong love for each other which really comes across in Clif’s images. Since the three of them are friends in real life, we ended up with such authentic and fun images.

Outside Magazine, in my opinion, has not always been the most inclusive space, and I wish a cover like this one had been a first a long time ago. We’ve made good strides in the past few years, and I am working towards making covers (and interior content) like this one a constant. Everyone should feel represented, because everyone should be able to feel safe and comfortable in the outdoors. I hope that by having more covers like this one, we can help chip away at the idea that BIPOC people aren’t active in the outdoors. They are, they just haven’t been represented in the outdoor media and I want to help change that mentality as much as I can.

What type of direction did you give Clif? 
Clif is a dream to work with because there isnt too much direction needed! I tend to hire photographers who have a strong voice already present in their images, but it’s also great to be able to collaborate! I had a few ideas coming in, which Clif and I discussed before set up, and then he would just roll with it. Over direction can sometimes stop a spontaneous and perfect moment and I never want to get in the way of that! It’s a balance, but working with someone like Clif helps because the energy he is bringing to the images is always undeniable!
What agency did you use to cast the models and what were you looking for? We were pretty grassroots for this one! Clif sent us a list of models he has worked with since we wanted the images to feel natural. We dont usually work with agencies mostly because we want the models we work with to be people who love being outside and feel comfortable with outdoor activities. It’s nice to work with models who havent done a lot of traditional modeling as well, sometimes with agency models they know their angles so well the images lose a bit of unplanned magic.

When you are hiring BIPOC photographers, what are your resources?
I use the Diversify Photo database pretty often, as well as the databases for Indigenous Photo and Women Photograph. Ive also fully embraced that being a photo editor is a lot of detective work, so I’m constantly trying to see who other magazines/newspapers are working with, and finding new people on instagram. (Is this what you mean or do you mean resources in another way?)

The first photo I saw of Clif’s was of a model boarding down a dune at Great Sand Dunes, and it just made me smile, the whole image had so much fun energy. I had just started at Outside, and was trying to build up a roster of photographers that I thought fit the brand well and that I wanted to work with eventually. It took me a while to get on my feet at Outside, especially since a lot of stories had already been assigned when I started, but Clif has been a photographer I had wanted to work with from the beginning!

The Daily Edit – Hans Johnson

Photographer: Hans Johnson

Heidi: How did this project align with your personal objectives as a photographer?
Hans: I have been shooting as an action/adventure photographer for a long time.  For the most part my work has been pretty much the same as a lot of photographers in that world (only from a Midwest perspective).  Action adventure, generally backcountry based, generally young white males etc.

14 years ago, my wife and I became parents of Tae, a Korean adoptee.  Being a part of an inter-racial family just blew apart all that I knew in my world.  I have literally been a part of or working in the Outdoor Industry since I was 12.  Yet, the idea that the industry was literally doing nothing to portray people of color in any way shape or form became starkly evident to me as I was trying to inspire my own kid to love being outside like my wife and I do.  Where his role models? I wrote about this in this piece for The Adventure Journal.  Yet as a White Male I felt my voice was irrelevant, mainly because I was the very image of the problem people of color were dealing with in the industry, I didn’t know how to be an ally. Then I realized as a photographer I could use the space I was being given to make change by taking images of BIPOC folks who were out getting after it.  I had a choice on where I focused my lens, and I had the contacts within the industry to make those images public.  Mind you this was all well before the murder of George Floyd which has since spurred more change and more energy in this realm.

 

The Outdoor Industry and the cycling industry at the time kept saying (and still is saying) why are there not more BIPOC folks in Outdoor Recreation. The fact is that they are out there in force and always have been, the industry just wasn’t committing to telling the real narrative. Again, as a straight White Male I also realized I was what BIPOC and LGBTQ folks feared and that I must build long term, trusting and lasting relationships with my subjects long before I even got to the idea of creating images of them in their play spaces outdoors.

So, I did and am doing, just that, and I have made it a point to get out of my own insular space in white society and started reaching out to folks and building relationships and building friends with people who I now consider to be family, both to me and to my son. I am extremely thankful to my friends who took the time and energy to work with me and educate me and to just be my friends.That’s a long answer to a short question, but when I was asked to take Alexandera’s portrait, I was honored, I was humbled, and I was also nervous because it’s a lot of responsibility to help tell a story as important as hers is and I also knew the length I had traveled to try and do this work in way that honored her.

Tell us about this portrait.
I had exactly an hour or so to take Alexandera’s portrait.  Originally, we had more time to do it, but weather kept shutting us down.  Finally, we had a day with decent light, and we went for it.  The only issue was that it was also the first day of the Wild Rice Season and Alexandera had to be ricing later that morning.  Wild Rice is the foundation of the Anishinaabe world view, its importance to their culture can’t be overstated. So, I was under pressure to find some locations and fast.

We were talking a lot about Wild Rice and its importance to her and to her tribe. We were also talking a lot about her challenges with making a living at cycling and her need to find brands that supported her but that also met her need to be true to her identity and her values as a Native person.  

How much time did you ride with Alexandera before you pulled out the camera?
We rode up a pretty good climb, maybe the biggest climb in Duluth, which may sound funny to say, but we have some decent vertical here due to Lake Superior.  Alexandera rides a singlespeed, and her main bike was down for repairs and the bike she rode had a pretty big gear, but she hammered it all the same!  We were warmed up ha! Her with her big gear and me with my big camera pack!

Did you scout the location prior to the shoot?
I did scout the location before we shot it.   I am lucky in the fact that the trail system we shot on was my own personal baby as trails advocate in town.  One of the trails is even named after me. I was intimate with the setting.  That said, I did go in the week before to look at my locations, sun angles and foliage to make sure I could get a decent set of frames when we met.  Shooting in deep canopy is an issue photographers must grapple with here in the Midwest and over time I have come to grips with how to use it in my favor and being intentional is rule number one.

What do you hope your photography does to remind folks that this area as an outdoor mecca and not a flyover country and flat as a board?
This is essentially my main goal as a photographer.  I have lived all over the world.  Europe, Rocky Mountains, East coast.  Yet I have always come home to where I am from. That’s because my extended family is here, its because I love Midwesterners and Minnesotans in general because of their soft-spoken attitudes and because I find it visually to be a really amazing place.  I always say that there is discrimination and stereotyping of people, but there is also discrimination and stereotyping of place.

The Midwest has been beaten down and ignored forever and especially when it comes to adventure sport.  My goal is to dispel that and to engage my viewer to the point where they can’t ignore the visual fascination they have with an image I have produced.  That’s not easy to do.  As all photographers know, your eye sees one thing and the lens another and sometimes even the most insanely cool spot comes out boring as hell in an image.

I must work doubly hard to collect images that can play on a national stage. The reality is that there are some amazing zones here, many that are threatened by development, mining and all the other outside forces that could destroy these places and experiences forever.  They need to be highlighted.  Both to build a national constituency, but also amazingly to prove to local Midwesterners that they live somewhere special, and they need to protect it.  Sounds crazy right?  But again, the marketing out there has so built this idea that to be adventurous you need to be in the mountains, right? Nope.


What are you up to these days?
Surviving ha!  While I would love to say that photography is my one gig, that is not true.  I work a full-time job as the Engagement Director for The Minnesota Land Trust (which involves a lot of photography!) plus being a husband and the dad of a 14-year-old kid during a pandemic and during one of the most politically divisive eras of our country.  Plus trying to shoot at a level that keeps my skills honed and my name in the photo game. This summer my focus is on shooting in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness.  I am on the board of a nonprofit that is fighting the proposed mine near the Wilderness, and I am collecting as much content as I can for them to utilize it for social media and other campaigns.  I leave next week on a 7-day solo canoe trip into the wilderness.  Its super minimalist which is a great challenge.  I am going to try and shoot the whole thing with a Canon G5X MKII point and shoot to save weight.  It’s not the camera but the person who aims it right??  Right??  This is a continuation of some work I did with the brand Hyperlite and the Provo Brothers (Ian and Neil) last summer.
I also just finished with a week of shooting with poet/writer Riverhorse Nakadate, a Patagonia Ambassador for Flyfishing, the gig was for the Flyfish Journal.  We had a gas and quite an adventure which included bikes, rafts (swimming -unintentionally) and flyfishing in SE Minnesota’s driftless area.  While MTB and cycling have been my jam for decades, flyfishing has taken on a big focus in my work as it’s something I feel is supremely underrepresented in Minnesota and yet is unique and world class.  I have been grinding away at this work for such a long time and achieving my goals slowly but surely.  The success has been glacial but to date I have been in most of the big outdoor publications and building a solid brand, but to me the biggest success is that noted outdoor personalities like the Provo Brothers or Riverhorse are starting to come to Minnesota to work with me and that is the biggest indicator or success that I can imagine and the one I am most proud of.

The Daily Edit – Riteshuttam Uttamchandani: A Lease on Life

 

A Lease on Life

Photographer: Riteshuttam Chandani

Heidi: What inspired this series of images?
Riteshuttam: The inspiration from this series came from a certain sense of visual fatigue. We often engage with politicians pre elections, tag along and make kiss kiss handshake photos that function as extended PR and very rarey as critique. There is a very performative element to it all. So I looked around for something that would bring the politician to a neutral ground that is beyond his or her control and orchestrations. Although the posters are made for them but their final destiny is what really brought out the above.

Did your early career in newspapers influence this body of work?
Absolutely. In fact one particular evening in 2004, I was walking to work and I noticed this under construction idol that was left to dry wrapped in a poster. She looked like an actress that has stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around. I took one, just one quick foto as I had to rush to office dump my card and run to another gig. Also, I was always rushing and add to that, dumb and naive to realize the full scope of such a sight and it didnt register that I could build this as a body of work. It is only when I was looking at my archive in 2009, searching for some photos that I stumbled on the photo again and I was like  whoa, I had a great idea staring right at me all these years!

Has this always been an ongoing body of work?
es, and since it is not really tied to elections I can start and stop as and when I want. Its been on since 2009, lets see where it goes.

Which image was the genesis of this body of work?
The durga idol, which some guy came to my show and insisted was Lakshmi. It only proved how little he knew about it.

Will you continue to take images for this series?
Yes I will, I hope to make it into a book or a zine or give it some physical shape. Am yet to figure all that out. A lot of the visual work about politics in India revolves around personas. This one clearly doesn’t and in fact it looks at the afterlife of it, if any.

The Daily Edit – Pit Magazine: Holly Cratford


Pit Magazine

Founder and Art Director: Holly Catford
Founder: Helen Graves
Founder Rob Billington

Heidi: How did Pit and Cheese magazine come about?
Holly: I started Pit with Helen Graves and Robert Billington in 2017, it was an idea I’d been thinking about for a long time and was a huge fan of Helen’s blog (foodstories) and so emailed her to go for a beer and basically we just never stopped drinking beers and having a lovely time together! Rob I’d met commissioning him for a story in Noble Rot (that I art directed with Jeremy Leslie from Magculture a million years ago) and we got on like a house on fire too so he seemed like a perfect third partner. Five years later we’re on our 12th issue and attempting to work out how we can get our little side project to start paying us. As a team we worked on Helen’s first book, Live Fire.

Cheese was started in lockdown, I’d worked with Anna Sulan Masing on another little digital magazine/event. She tweeted late one night (not sure if there was any wine involved) about wanting a cheese magazine, so I replied saying we should do it. It turns out Apoorva Siripathi had done the same thing, so we just thought we should give it a shot. We’re working on the third issue now.

How did you get your start in magazines?
When I graduated in 2012 I got a weeks work experience at Esterson Associates with Simon Esterson. I just never left. As a studio we specialise in editorial design, Simon’s been running the studio for several years. I’m very, very lucky to have been able to come along and work on such amazing projects together, I’ve learn everything I know from him. He also owns and runs Eye magazine with John L. Walters, so I also get to work on that which is every graphic designers dream. Looking back on my student work, I can see my love for editorial in everything I do. I was constantly putting together books and publications asking friends to do illustrations and take photographs, interviewing people, while everyone else did posters and logos.

You work on a variety of other titles, are you art directing and designing them all?
I’m the art director of History Today, Pit and Cheese. The art editor of Eye, Pulp and Museums Journal.

What kind of circulation do you have for cheese and Pit?
Both are 2000 copies.

How did this potato cover idea unfold?
We wanted to put the British classic the potato smiley on the cover, and then me and Rob started talking about ‘iconic potatos’ and thought of Mr Potato Head. The idea sort of spiraled from there, I bought a few potato head sets from ebay and then tried to find potatoes which would look like ourselves. Each one is a member of the team Polly (Holly), Bob (Rob) and Melon (Helen).

Do you have a regular stable of photographers you work with?
Yes and no. I have a few people I work with really closely (Rob and Caitlin Isola) on Pit. But we work with loads of people on wider projects. Philip Sayer, David Levene, Francesco Brembati, Julian Anderson, Orlando Gili,
Suki Dhanda, Ed Park, Maria Spann… the list goes on and on. I also work really closely with Millie Simpson on History Today who is an amazing picture editor. I’m very very lucky to work with all of them.

 

The Daily Edit – Andrew Hetherington: Wired Magazine


Wired Magazine

Photo Director: Anna Goldwater Alexander
Photo Editor: Samantha Cooper and Beth Holzer

Photographer: Andrew Hetherington

Heidi: Tell us how this assignment hit home for you.
Andrew: Who would have thought as a teenager in Dublin watching the telly and seeing cyclist Greg LeMond win his first World Road Race Championship back in 1983 or his first Tour De France victory in 1986 that I would one day meet the legend, let alone take his photograph and do so in Knoxville, Tennessee of all places. Well, that 13 year old had no idea where Knoxville was and could never have dreamed any of that could or would happen.

Were you always interested and following in cycling?
Yes, I have always been a keen cyclist so in November 2020 I was super excited to see the @lemondbicycles announce on IG the release of two carbon commuter E-Bikes, the Prolog and the Dutch, to be followed in 2022 with road and gravel versions.
Greg has always been a pioneer in cycling technology and design especially when it came to the use and development of carbon fiber. Even in his racing days he was at the front of the peloton when it came to innovation, aero dynamics and geometry and launched his own manufacturing company LeMond Bicycles.Long story short and after a licensing deal with Trek, that created what would become one of the nation’s top road brands, went bad, ended up in lawsuits and was eventually settled in 2010. Greg has since pivoted to the research and development of disruptive carbon fiber technology leading to the creation of his company – LeMond Carbon

Was this assignment was a perfect mix of work and play?
So when I got an email from Beth @wired wondering if I would be up for photographing the new bikes and Greg himself for an upcoming feature in the magazine it was a no brainer yes.

How long have you been in Atlanta?
I have been based in Atlanta the last couple of years and have been road tripping to assignments throughout the south. FL, AL, LA, SC, NC, AR and TN are all well within driving distance so was an easy-ish commute to and from the location in Knoxville.

Did you get a ride in?
The weather was pretty wet that day so that limited the shoot to inside the facility and office space. Although I did get to test ride a Prolog around the assembly floor have to say it’s a winning ride as well as being an absolute looker!!!

Was was the direction from the magazine?
The creative was to shoot as much of the building and assembly process as was allowed and wasn’t top secret. Samantha Cooper who had taken over as the photo editor on the shoot from Beth by the time it became  reality put together a shot list and an image pull from my site for creative. The one must get was a shot of a bike itself dismantled with all its parts showing. This was pre-approved by LeMond and we had help piece it all together from their Creative Director on set which was a huge help. I also got an edit of the story in advance (which is not always the case) and that’s was super helpful to help wrap ones mind around creative and indeed logistics.

Were you star struck?
I heard Greg’s voice down the hall before I met him and have to say I was a little nervous. He is a legend after all. Happy to report he is an absolute class act, a true champ, one of the most engaging, animated, passionate, honest, open and panache filled folk I have ever had the pleasure of photographing. He wanted us to shoot everything, even the secret stuff and had to be reined in a couple time there. Obvs, I was totally star struck fan boy but dug deep and managed to hold it together (I think) like a pro for the shoot.

We shot with Greg first and then wrapped the shoot with the bike parts as that took a little time and finessing…

The Daily Edit – Gdje Su Svi Dobrodošli (Where Everyone Is Welcome) : Andrew Burton


Patagonia Cleanest Line

Photographer: Andrew Burton
Activist: Denis Tuzinovic

Heidi: How much time did you spend with Denis before taking out the camera for this portrait?
Andrew: Denis was very generous with his time with me, for which I am forever grateful. Broadly speaking our time together was split into two portions – the first portion was a traditional reportage / documentary photo shoot while Denis volunteered at SR3 (a marine wildlife response, rehabilitation, and research nonprofit vet clinic just outside Seattle). The second portion was the portrait session at a variety of locations. The first portion, at SR3, was relatively quick and immediate, I probably spent about 15 minutes photographing while he fed a few different groups of seals. We probably had 5-10 minutes to “get to know each other” and build a rapport before he started the volunteer work. The second portion – the portrait shoot – was rather long and organic, lasting a few hours at 5-6 different locations. The vision I had been given by the photo director was to use natural light in a variety of locations around Seattle to show Denis, and specifically a jacket he frequently wears, to show him proud and empowered in an urban environment. During the portrait portion of the shoot we had a lot of down time without cameras, driving between locations and walking the streets of Seattle, getting to know each other and learning more about each other. Even when I was making portraits of him, Denis’ story is so powerful and compelling that I found myself setting down my cameras to talk more and continue the conversation throughout the portrait session.


Do you have any type of process for your portrait work before meeting subjects?

I come from a strict photojournalism and documentary background, which is to say that when I make portraits I usually approach the assignment from a reportage lineage – environmental portraiture using a majority natural light – occasionally one strobe or a reflector to help a bit . Before the assignment I research the subject  as thoroughly as possible so that I know as much about the person as possible and I use online tools (google street view, etc) to research the location as much as possible so as not to be surprised by what the location is offering. Once on the scene I try to let things unfold organically, relying on conversation and collaboration with the subject to achieve a finished photo. This process can be trickier with subjects who don’t have much time to give or aren’t interested in collaboration, but in this specific case, with Denis, the system worked quite well.

Avedon famously said in his book The American West “A portrait is not a likeness. The moment an emotion or fact is transformed into a photograph it is no longer a fact but an opinion. There is no such thing as inaccuracy in a photograph. All photographs are accurate. None of them is the truth.” At Patagonia, we look for, “an honest shot, real people doing real things.”  How are you creating an environment for this moment or emotion to unfold?
I’ve worked as a professional photojournalist and documentary filmmaker for the past 14 years and the deeper I get into my career, the more I think about this line of thought – is the photo or film I create “honest and accurate?” How do you define truth, objectivity, accuracy? Is the photo both factually and emotionally accurate?  Am I manipulating the scene to achieve my own vision but at the cost of what the feeling on the scene really was? Coming from a journalism and documentary background, where “truth” (whatever that is) is paramount, I’m frequently hesitant to use my camera to manipulate a scene or subject to achieve my own goals or vision (whatever they maybe). That said, I’m of the opinion that the deeper into the rabbit hole you go in a search for capital-T “Truth,” the more you realize it’s impossible to achieve and a bit of a fool’s errand- the very nature of a camera being in a room – another person observing something – undeniably shapes and shifts the scene. And yet. I believe intention matters, that as a journalist and photographer you can aim be as unobtrusive as possible and visualize a scene relatively undisturbed – or in the case of a portrait – that you can attempt to document the essence of a person in an honest manner that doesn’t manipulate them or visualize them as something they aren’t. To that end, that’s why I try to be as collaborative, open and communicative with a portrait subject – so that I can get to know them as much as possible in the time given and try to make a portrait that feels relatively “accurate.”

I see an honest, brave moment of self reflection and courage, what do you hope to capture in this portrait?
More than anything I hope the portrait accurately reflects who Denis is and compels the audience to read Denis’ story and get to know more about him – he’s an amazing man who lives by his values, is actionable about his convictions and who has been shaped by harrowing backstory. I won’t attempt to summarize Denis’ story for him but suffice to say I was deeply moved by the time I was able to spend with him and hope readers are moved by his story, as well.

What can you share about working with film and digital for our assignment?
I would simply say, it was a joy mixing the mediums of reportage and environmental portraiture. Denis and I had the opportunity to walk the streets of Seattle for an hour or two, chasing the light and location, chatting and finding unexpected scenes and environments. Ultimately the final photo is a clean, powerful portrait of Denis but there were dozens of other options that leaned into the visuals of Seattle and the mix of urban landscape amidst the beautiful Pacific Northwest. It felt like a rare and special assignment – most portraits don’t have that sort of latitude and flexibility. I”m very grateful to both the photo director and to Denis for the opportunity.

Film is often more intentional, anything that is analog slows us down, tell us about shooting both mediums.
Yes, I shot both digital and film on this assignment. I’ve been working more in film photography for the past few years which has been a total joy. I spent the first eight years of my career in the daily news and wire photography business – on the best days I was on the front lines of history documenting the most incredible moments of the human experience. But the turnover of work is incredibly quick – deadline is always 5 minutes ago and there’s always another assignment. Some days I might have four assignments. Modern digital cameras are made for this work – a photographer can make thousands of photographs with little effort. But the overall effect of that lifestyle, at least on me, was to water down the value of the photos I was making – it increasingly felt like “quantity over quality.” This may be trite and obvious, but working with film cameras slows a photographer down. It makes a photographer more intentional. It demands a photographer to ask themself what they’re trying to say by releasing the shutter. It has made me fall in love with the medium of photography again – the physicality of slower cameras, the limited number of frames – it makes me appreciate the medium. I would say it’s akin to digital music (Spotify etc) versus listening to a record. It forces you to be more present minded and appreciate scarcity.  All that said: I worked in both mediums for this assignment a bit out of fear – I wanted the digital cameras on the scene as a safety net in case anything went wrong with the film cameras. Ultimately it was an unfounded fear and the film photos were the ones I was most proud of.

Thank you to both you and Denis for working with us, I’m so grateful to have crossed paths on this special assignment. Read the full story here.

The Daily Edit – Gathering Growth: Brian Kelly


Lock 26 Maple

Three Sisters Swamp
Ransom Sycamore audio included
Grandma Tree
Millersville Bur Oak
The Big Poplar Tuliptree

Pacific Ponderosa Pine

Gathering Growth
Photographer: Brian Kelly 

Heidi: Why is this project important to you and what got you started?
Brian: After seeing old growth/big trees in the PNW of the US and Vancouver Island I couldn’t stop doing research into why the forests of the east coast US were nothing like the west.  Why weren’t there big trees here in the East? Come to find out, the East coast US has been logged over several times and multiple species that fell to disease and insects. All of this was an initial motivation to document what was left. We lack proper documentation of what the forests and trees once looked like. For me, this is what drives me to dedicate my life to document what is still standing; it’s a reminder for future generations of what it all once was at a specific moment in time.

In a data and asset rich world, this is one of the more refreshing practices of archiving. What assets are you collecting?
Over the last four to five years of documenting these trees and forests I’ve been creating large format images, soundscape recordings, leaf and seed documentation, and the occasional video recording.  Not every tree gets the full suite, but I try to.

What format are you shooting, can you share your process?  How long is each tree session and what are you trying to capture?
When shooting the trees and forests for the archive I use Kodak Portra 160 sheet film with a Toyo Field Camera. I’m a big believer in not only the quality of film but also the physical aspect of the negative for the archive.  Of course I’m also shooting digital because mistakes do happen when shooting film. I’m shooting on a Fuji GFX 100 at the moment, but the digital format has already changed once since I started this archive, so I’m looking to the film to be the constant. The amount of time I spend at a tree can vary.  I’ve had roadside finds that I’ve documented in 45 min and been on my way, then I’ve had other trees where I’ve spent two days knowing the light could be better.  It’s all different, but I like to imagine that when I put in time with a tree I’m paying it respect. That this organism has been living and growing for 800 years in order for it to be something special and recognized by humans. You have to show love and respect when you start thinking like that.

What is the taxonomy of your archive?  
The archive is organized by the year, and then going into either Tree of Significance, Forests, or Champion Tree,  then it gets broken into state, followed by species.

Are you planning on another book similar to Parks?
I would love to do a tree book someday.  I’ve been wanting to do a series that would be broken into the major regions of the U.S.  Highlighting the largest/old trees and old growth or unique forests.  This would be my life work I think….


How many have you photographed thus far? What are your discovery and tracking tools?  

So far the archive has roughly 300 trees and forests documented.  I’m able to find a lot of the trees just through googling key words, and being specific in a state or town. For example: “Big – Tree – New – York”  I’ve also found a lot through Real estate Apps like Zillow.  Finding a big tree in a photo and then looking on google maps street view.  I get the occasional submission from someone too. We have a tree/forest submission page on our website.   At the moment I have roughly 1,300 trees and forests marked on google earth.  A lot of work ahead of me still!

How can folks support you or get involved?  
There are many ways that people can support Gathering Growth. You can check the website www.gathergrowth.org to learn more about what we’re doing, how to get involved and make a donation. We have a bi weekly newsletter you can sign up for and follow us on social media for new trees and forests that were documenting. @gatheringgrowth. Were also always looking for brands that align with our ethos and want to help amplify our voice and mission.


Do you have a favorite tree or any favorite moment you’d like to share. Trees are also called knowledge keepers, what have you learned so far?

I’m not sure I have a favorite tree, but I have a favorite memory while shooting a tree. While photographing a tree in the Lost Forest Research Area in southeastern Oregon I experienced silence like never before.  The drive into the Lost Forest is an experience in its own.  Bumpy roads and potholes on unmaintained BLM roads nearly destroyed my van.  Getting into the forest around sunset I parked the car, turned it off and the instant I opened my door it felt like a vacuum had just sucked all the sound out.  I felt unsure, like I wasn’t supposed to be there, or something was watching me.  I wasn’t used to silence like that, so much so that the only sound I heard was the blood rushing through my ears. That level of silence was so foreign.  I wasn’t able to find the tree that night and had to wait till morning.  Eventually finding the tree in the morning I was finally able to start to acclimate to the silence.  I’ve never been anywhere else and felt that way.  I don’t think most people have or ever will know that type of natural silence.

The Daily Edit – Newtok: Patagonia Journal and Film: Andrew Burton and MIchael Kirby Smith

 

Newtok: Patagonia Journal and film

Photographers: Andrew Burton and Michael Kirby Smith

Heidi: Why was it important to you both to make this film?
Andrew and MIchael: We set out to tell the story of Newtok, AK, in 2013 because we were tired of the overly simplistic media narrative that climate change was something happening in the future, predictive in nature, affecting generations down the road. We felt the story was happening now across the globe and in the United States. It was important to us that we found a story in our country after reporting abroad. When you start to look at stories in America impacting citizens here you quickly find Newtok.  In news, the media often distills stories into simple digestible narratives and the more we learned about Newtok, especially after our first reporting trip, we quickly learned that the story is very complex, nuanced, with a beginning that dates back further than we could have imagined. We didn’t want this crisis to be portrayed through cliched and stereotyped imagery, such as a sad polar bear or melting glacier, knowing that this is not where we’re at with the climate narrative. Newtok’s story is complex, which in a way is representative of the larger complex issues when discussing the climate crisis in the sense that the narrative, and possible solutions do not have easy answers. The crisis is here in the U.S. happening today, to our fellow citizens, and our goal was to tell a story that immerses the viewer in the emotionality of this unfolding catastrophe.

This project was seven years in the making, how much photography and motion did you collect and what are your hopes for it beyond this feature film?
The project has grown into a much larger body of work. In a lot of ways the project’s growth was very natural in the sense that when we first started we were really reporting by taking pictures, writing, and documenting anything we felt was relevant to better understanding the story’s complexities. It’s now turned into a behemoth body of work that has been overwhelming at times. We filmed 130 terabytes of footage from 2015 – 2020, including hundreds of rolls of film and 20,000+ digital photos. In collaboration with the village and with their expressed permission we’ve collected old family photos, home videos, archival documents, maps, etc. We’ve handed out 70+ disposable cameras to the community for them to document their relocation and had kids fill out surveys about what they think of the relocation. Newtok began in 1949, under forced federal mandate, and according to the land exchange deal everything must be deconstructed in Newtok and handed back to its natural habitat. Because of this we do feel a certain obligation to document this entire process, especially since this is one of the first communities impacted by the climate crisis. The film is part of that ongoing body of work and our ultimate goal is to have an expansive multimedia document of a place that will not exist down the road. We want to create an archive which includes a documentary film (coming out April 22), a photo book, an online website, and a traveling exhibit. Eventually, with the blessing of the community, we’d like to see the entire body of work donated to a museum or university archive, but we still have many years ahead knowing the relocation is not complete.

The past four years have been dynamic to say the least (politics, the pandemic) how did that impact your project?
Like everything impacted by the pandemic it’s been really tough. Covid has kept us from traveling to the village for two years (2020-2022) which was the longest we’ve been away from the community. It’s also disrupted our ability to screen with the community in the way we’ve always envisioned, but with that said, there is a lot of understanding of the obstacles we’ve faced in this regard. We spent much of that time editing the film and getting it out into the world. Beyond covid, this project has now been through the Obama, Trump, and Biden administration. What is remarkable is all the lip service and attempts to help the community from 40+ state, federal and nonprofit agencies, and all bluster of partisan politics, how remarkably little has changed in the village. It speaks to how complicated it is to navigate climate change politics in the current state of our country’s political stalemate in writing meaningful policy.  Other than the big surge of funding in 2019 which moved 1/3 of the community, the majority of people still live in Newtok. So now you have a situation of a divided community which is tough for everyone. The goal is to remain together as a community in a safe environment and that has not happened. The river is still eating away at the shoreline, funding is not secured, and the community continues to fight for relocation while struggling in living their lives because of degrading conditions and families torn apart. Covid had the biggest effect on our ability to work on the story, but beyond that, the situation in Newtok is still dire and very real.

How did this self-sustaining community influence you as a parent, citizen, and creative?
As journalists we try to keep our personal baggage away from conversation, but in the context of process and longform storytelling, there is value in discussing this more as a way to encourage other filmmakers and journalists, and to just personally reflect, which is always good. To begin, throughout the making of the project we have had monumental personal change and professional growth. How we would begin to tell a story of this nature now looks different than how we did and that’s rooted in learning and growing as individuals and as a team. That doesn’t necessarily mean we would be telling a different story either. Personal life, all the ups and downs while working on a project like this continue, and the inherent difficulty to navigate individual stress is amplified in long form independent storytelling. You don’t have the same institutional support, in terms of financial help, which makes it harder to justify an undertaking of this nature if you are reliant on freelance income, as we both have been throughout this process. This means you really have to believe in the storytelling process where you find yourself somewhat blind to what awaits in terms of success, both editorially and financially. That’s really tough and stressful.  What the community has really taught us is the value of being more present minded in general and how to find hope and joy in the face of struggle and overwhelming odds. In a lot of ways this informs everything in terms of the filmmaking process. This has made us better communicators with each other, and strengthened us as a team. We’ve been taught values that come out of a small, tight knit community and family – emphasizing forgiveness and love no matter what. The community has also taught us what real sustainability and self reliance look like – of knowing the landscape and ecosystem and weather patterns and nuances of your land. What incredible beauty and lessons we have to continually learn from this symbiosis.  The project has taught us to be open and collaborative and that good storytelling takes a lot of time that can’t be forced.  It’s almost as if each story has its own temporal governance, that you have to learn and adapt as a storyteller in order to fully realize the potential of the story, and that the story will unfold in its own rightful time. It has entirely and holistically changed the way we will approach future projects, and we are indebted to the community of Newtok for teaching us better awareness, which we grow from for the rest of our lives.

The community of Newtok trusted you both to tell this story and invite you into their homes and lives, what were some of the pivotal moments of trust building?
It’s been a real honor getting to work with the people of Newtok on this story, and this could not have been done without our producer Marie Meade. Bringing her into the field was a seachange and a huge moment in transforming the story and gaining trust from the community. Marie is a highly respected Yup’ik elder, and leading Yupik anthropologist, author, linguist, and scholar, who is an incredible teacher both in an academic setting as a professor, and outside of one. She has direct familial roots to the Newtok community, specifically her family lived in the village of Keyaluvik where the people of Newtok were prior to forced relocation, but she had never had the opportunity to visit when the community was divided. This was very serendipitous for the project, because working on the film offered her an opportunity to visit with extended family and see her ancestral lands. So, our team not only had a known Yupik educator and leader come onboard, but someone who had personal connection to the land and people of Newtok. It’s impossible to quantify the value she continues to add to the project, we can only say that it wouldn’t be close to what it is today without her agency and insight into the community. She is someone who has devoted her life to better understanding her own heritage and has been instrumental in preserving the Yupik language and culture for future generations and she has given us leadership and guidance through the making of this film. We adore Marie.

The second, pivotal element that comes to mind, is much broader and came through by time on the ground just continuing to show up to the village, and reiterating our intention to try and get the story right. The community has seen a lot of parachute journalists, filmmakers, photographers, and tons of nonprofit and government agencies on top of that. They’ve become wary of outsiders for good reasons. People don’t often present their intention to the community, or get to know people and listen, so it sets up a potentially exploitive result that sours community perspective.  We’ve now logged more than 300 days in the village and know folks there intimately, and we have been granted access by the community’s leadership by trying to be transparent and open about our intentions. What began as distrust has evolved in time to an alignment of intent, which is to bring attention to the traumatic disaster unfolding. Time has given us the opportunity to learn from the people of Newtok which is instrumental to the storytelling.

You are both photojournalists, how did this project reinforce / continue to inform you both that this work is essential in an age of misinformation?
This is a very complicated question to try and begin to answer. People are aware of how news consumption has drastically transformed in the digital era with social media platforms abound, but we still don’t know what the implications are on society and what that means for the future of documenting history if journalistic guidelines lack clarity. The journalism transformation is happening so fast that we can only speculate. There is incredible work analyzing this stuff, but it’s mostly in a slower moving academic dialogue, and while that is being pondered journalism’s voice to tell stories is being diminished. Photojournalism comes from a lineage that has journalistic guidelines and principles, as an example, actually being transparent in the journalism methodology itself. These ethics were traditionally shaped and defined by legacy journalism institutions and publishers, which have been folding throughout the country and world. What has risen in the wake are numerous platforms, and even forms of storytelling, that have no clarity on the code of ethics in reporting, fact finding journalism, and publishing. Photojournalism remains essential because the intent is clear and the methodology is clear. The struggle now is there are fewer platforms for publishing the work which makes it extremely difficult to have a career which is a great loss to journalism in general.

The community is in a constant state of migration: homes they grew up in,  their land, culture and tradition. How did this project make you rethink what it means to be home?
This project made us reconsider the definition of home in a visceral, tangible way, that it is more than just a physical structure as we have perhaps defined it prior to the project. The definition is different across cultures, and for the community of Newtok “home” is more than simply a house, or the village itself – it includes the ecosystem that provides subsistence life. It is a much broader swath of the Yukon Kuskokwim delta, where, for millennia, they have moved between seasonal hunting grounds, a migratory understanding of the word.

There is an argument made by some fiscal conservatives that it is too expensive to relocate communities like Newtok and that it would be cheaper and easier to simply offer a buyout to residents, forcing migration into a major town. This argument hinges on a limited western definition that a home is definable by a four-walled structure, or version close to that. Such suggestions lack ethical consideration especially considering the community of Newtok only became attached to western infrastructure under forced mandate by the same government that would be suggesting a buyout. The fact is, to move a native community like Newtok, that has chosen to remain on their ancestral lands and disperse the community into a larger city would result in the opposite of “relocating their homes.” It would be the destruction of their lifestyle, their culture, their way of life and is genocidal by nature.

How did the community receive the film and how can folks give back or get involved?
We began showing the film to the community in stages. First, while we were still editing the film, we began showing rough cuts to our advisory board – a group of people made up of Newtok community members, a local journalist who worked in Newtok, a Yup’ik philosopher, a Yup’ik anthropologist, a project manager on the relocation and a member of the Smithsonian institute. After we received notes from the advisory board and incorporated their thoughts into the film, we showed the film to the people depicted in the film and had conversations with them. Throughout this process our aim was to make sure we were getting the story right, being culturally accurate and culturally sensitive and to learn about our inevitable blind spots. Then we showed the entire community of 400 people the finished film. We’re humbled, grateful and proud to say that the community has been very complimentary of the film.

How difficult was it to use your equipment in the elements?
Operating in Newtok was never easy – we were exposing our gear to -40 degree winter snow storms, giant Bering-sea storms, salt water spray, mud, muck and moisture. We demanded a lot of our gear and ourselves (frostbite while changing rolls of film isn’t fun to deal with). To the camera manufacturers unending credit, we never had any issues with our cameras – they worked amazingly well throughout the entire production.

What were the advantages of being a crew of two?
Photojournalism puts a lot of focus on the individual – one byline, one person, one credit, and filmmaking is so collaborative by nature. There is strength in numbers and we really wanted to collaborate on a project and move towards a team approach. The process of that had a lot of growing pains and forced us to really listen and rely on each other in a way that is really incredible when you start finding the cadence of that other person. We often joke that our personalities are so different to the point of describing it like we’re ascending the same mountain on different routes, but there are real advantages to the differences once you fully trust each other’s approach, and how our process differs. At the end of the day we usually always land in the same place, in agreement, and along the way we have grown as collaborators and friends.  We learn from each other and believe that by working as a team, the final product is greater than the sum of the individual parts; a sort of 1+1 = 3.

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