The Interview Project--Rick Sammon

This article, by Grace Schaub, was based upon an interview with Rick Sammon published in the mid-nineties in Photographer's Forum magazine. Rick, a friend for many years, continues his writing and photography today and is still very active in teaching, leading workshops, and writing about technique and vision that continue to educate and inspire photographers worldwide.

At home both at his desk, penning articles and books, and in the field, where he has established a worldwide reputation as both a travel and underwater photographer, Rick Sammon's prolific output has made him one of the most respected and widely-published writer/photographers working today. Along with his work goes a commitment to the earth, one in which he uses his talents to promote an awareness of our fragile underwater environment. His work has taken him to exotic and exciting places both above and below the sea.

Rick's love of photography and writing began early. But like many photographers, he also had a passion for music. He attended the Berkeley College of Music in Boston, and aspired to be a jazz musician.  While some young musicians drive cabs or wait tables, Sammon decided to put his interest in photography to work, and he started doing freelance jobs and eventually submitting articles to photo magazines.

As he continued to write and get work published, he got to know the publisher of one of those magazines, Studio Photography, and when the editor's job became vacant he was offered the position. He took it, and for three years he ran the monthly journal for portrait and commercial photographers. From there he entered the world of public relations, handling the Minolta account during the introduction of their autofocus SLR cameras.

It was during that time that Sammon became involved with underwater photography and a growing consciousness about preserving the fragile underwater environment. While on assignment for the magazine in Texas he met Bernard MacFadden, president of CEDAM, an exploration organization whose acronym tells the tale--Conservation, Education, Diving, Archeology and Museums, all to do with the world under the sea. The organization sponsors seminars, dive trips and works in conjunction with many worldwide and regional organizations to foster both a broad and focused approach to preservation and conservation.

MacFadden and Sammon became friends, and in 1979 Sammon became editor of the CEDAM newsletter; in 1985 Sammon assumed the role of president of the organization. He soon found himself traveling around the world and becoming involved with the global village of divers and dive activities. For example, Sammon led an expedition to the lost city of Nueva Cadiz on the island of Margarita off Venezuela, where over 750 artifacts were discovered and turned over to the local museum. He also worked on the organization's Galapagos Project, a ten year marine study done in conjunction with the Charles Darwin Foundation. The Belize Project is done in cooperation with the New York Zoological Society and resulted in the establishment of marine parks. Cedam's Red Sea Project helped collect specimens for the New York Aquarium.

While these good works have resulted in many benefits for local museums and societies, they also helped contribute to Sammon's impressive collection of underwater photography. As most divers are also avid photographers, Sammon's work is highly appealing in that it combines the best of both worlds. One of the results of his years of shooting is a beautiful book entitled "Seven Underwater Wonders of the World", published by Thomasson-Grant.

The book, a must for avid scuba photographers and lovers of natural photography, is also a plea for Sammon's overriding concern--the calling of attention to the ecological problems confronting the deep-sea habitat. As he says, "We were looking for a project to protect the underwater world, but we needed a hook, something that people would connect with. That's when I got the idea for the `Seven Wonders.'"

The sites, including the Belize Barrier Reef, Lake Baikal in Siberia, the northern Red Sea and the Galapagos Archipelago, were chosen from among a checklist provided by an international selection committee of marine scientists and conservationists. The book contains 181 color plates and has become a classic among dive photographers, and also established Sammon among the top underwater photographers in the world. Aside from publishing the CEDAM International Reef Report, a newsletter about activities and concerns of the organization, Sammon has produced slide shows, videotapes and given frequent lectures on the subject. He also became a member of the Explorers Club.

Sammon's interest in nature and his experience with photography and publishing also resulted in numerous books and articles. With the birth of his son, Marco, two years ago, he focused in on the fact that one of the main reasons for his fight was to preserve the world for his son, and for his son's sons. He began looking at children’s books as a way to bring the wonders and appreciation of nature to future generations. With his wife Susan, who has been with him on literally every dive and shoot, he authored two books in conjunction with The Nature Company. Naturally, the first was entitled "Under the Sea", but the catch here was that all of Rick and Susan's pictures were printed in 3D, and the book included 3D glasses--just the technique to catch a kid's attention.

Today, Sammon continues to photograph, write and campaign for conservationist causes. He is a regular contributor to Outdoor Photographer magazine, and writes the weekly Associated Press syndicated column on photography. This year, he will be publishing five books, two with the Nature Company and three with Voyageur Press. He also continues to write freelance for a broad range of magazines and newspapers in the photographic, ecological and general-interest fields.

Through it all, Sammon remains one of the nicest people you'd ever meet. While his schedule and output would drive most people to distraction, he has seemed to learn how to maintain an even keel throughout. While his experiences around the world have given him a certain perspective, the birth of his son has put that perspective into an even sharper focus. If you have a chance to read one of his books, or can catch him when he lectures or gives workshops, you'll feel the same keen energy and caring coming through. 

Interview Project: Lucien Clergue, 1983

Lucien Clergue was born in Arles, a city in the France’s Provence region. The city was home and inspiration to Picasso, Gauguin and perhaps most notably, Van Gogh. It is a region rich in history and the arts, and as Clergue grew up the moods and people of the area became part of his sensibility and vision.

Although well known for his studies of the nude (he had four books published on that theme, including Nude Workshop, (Viking Press), Clergue was also an accomplished landscape, and street photographer. He had one-man shows all over the world and his work is in the permanent collections of many museums.

He was a well-known lecturer and participated in workshops throughout the United States and France, including the Ansel Adams Workshop, the Maine Photography Workshop, and the New School in New York. He founded the Annual Festival of Photography in Arles, and also produced a number of short films, including a 1971 retrospective of his close friend Pablo Picasso.

I felt fortunate to meet Clergue in New York in 1983, when I conducted this interview, and later in Arles in 1986, when he and his gracious wife introduced us to its many charms. He often came to the United States to photograph and teach, and when I spoke to him in New York he had just returned from leading a workshop in Death Valley. I found him to be a sensitive and generous artist who was unique in his awareness of the issues and themes that concern us all, then as now, both as members of a wider society and as artists.

GS: You seem to be very busy. I saw your book, The Nude Workshop. Is that a particular theme you’ve always pursued?

LC Yes. Have you seen the other parts of my work? I have three major themes: one is landscape, seascape, the ocean; the other is the bullfight and all that goes on around it; and the third is the nude, which makes kind of a triptych and is working quite well. I look to relay a correspondence between life and death, a dialogue. What makes me concerned right now is that many books on my nudes have been published, and people are forgetting that I do other things.

GS They want to put you in a box?

LC It's too bad, but what can I do?

GS Did you begin with the nudes?

LC No, I began with people, circus people, and then I followed up with gypsies, and the first good nudes came in 1956. So the themes I pursue started to show in my early years. Depending on the year, I was doing the nude more than landscape or other themes.

GS Is there any reason that one theme would be pursued more than another in a particular time frame?

LC It depended on the opportunity to find models, or if I was working on a project, like a book, that I had to finish. I'm now doing a book on my country, on Provence, and this is something special. It will be in color. When I’m in the United States, I try to take three or four days shooting for Death Valley and Point Lobos, which I find compelling.

GS Do your themes intermix? Can you see themes within themes?

LC Yes, even in the nude work you can see that there are similar sections, like the sea, the forest, the desert, the urban landscape, and the section on Venice. So that makes a theme within a major theme, which I think is interesting, because you get a good spectrum.

GS So within the theme of the nude, you find that you can express all the themes you’ve been working on.

LC: Oh yes.

GS When you were doing landscapes, were you mostly attracted to your native area in France?

LC Not really. I've been doing a lot at Point Lobos, both in black and white and color. Also, I’ve been working since 1978 in Mexico, in the Yucatan, but I never made anything from that because it’s part of an ambitious project, and I’m not really sure where this project is leading. I have a certain feeling for it, but I still don't know exactly what it is.

GS But you're aware of something brewing?

LC Yes. I have a feeling about something in relationship to natural and human landscape, the works of man. So to mix all this together with work shot in Point Lobos, the Yucatan, India, and wherever is quite complicated, because I have to go from one place to another.

GS Do you see a conflict between the landscape of man and that of nature?

LC Well, this is where I want to see what’s happening. I don’t know—I know there is a relationship, in fact, a conflict. But on the other side, there is something complementary going on. Like in the Yucatan, in Chichen Itza, where you have all the heads of the dead around. And when you see in the forms at Point Lobos the sex of the male and the female. It’s interesting to see how nature creates life and how man celebrates death. This is the type of relationship I would like to express. Also the fact that all that is to celebrate the sun is quite interesting, and perhaps I’ll make my own interpretation of it. As soon as I get the key, I will go faster, because I’ll know where I’m going. But now I don’t know where the door is. For instance, I did a lot of work on the sand, over many years, and I could never really understand my feelings about what I was doing. Point Lobos became the key.

GS What made it the key?

LC It’s logical, always. I was working on a simple basis, which was the sand, what is before, what is after. So, before the sand were the rocks—fine, but not a simple rock. In fact, you have the symbols of life in the rocks at Point Lobos, like the sex of a man, the sex of a woman. There is a kind of luxuriance of sexuality there. It is the idea of nature as very prolific, very dynamic, very alive; and when you photograph, you show the life. And the man appears upon the world (it’s about the middle of the book); you see the footprints of man. Some people, when they see that, see it as a kind of an aggression. “Oh, something wrong will happen here,” they feel, and man is there. And he’s bringing his car and he’s polluting the place, disturbing everything. And in the end he turns the earth into a cadaver; he brings the earth into plastic, and there is no more room for man. That duality between man and nature is quite interesting. And perhaps it’s political, because man has the atom bomb and wants to destroy the world. It’s a difficult road; you don’t know where you’re really going, because you always have two directions, and there is never a distinct indication of which one to follow. You have to make a choice, and hope it is the right one.

GS In the bullfight, you know the end of the story. Isn’t that a kind of “logic”? Do you know the end of your stories?

LC No. And even if I knew the end of the story, I’d try to reverse it, because then it would be like music. For instance, Bach used to change his mind; when you were expecting one note to finish a partition, he’d give you another one. And I think this is interesting; you know, you’re not obliged to do what is expected of you.

GS I’ve talked with other photographers who are involved with music, and they also relayed a feeling about the link between music and photography.

LC Oh, yes. Who?

GS A fellow named Walter Chappell.

LC Where is he now?

GS New Mexico

LC Give him my love and regards, and say that I would like to see him, to print with him. I met him years ago when he was in New York. So the music is part of our life. I’ve been studying the violin since I was eighteen, and when I started in photography, I had the feeling of music behind me. For instance, the languid nature of grasses, marshes; I had the feeling of organization, like in composition. The relationship you have with music is in the partition; in photography, that partition is the negative. And you have the interpretation, which is the positive. If you learn to read a negative as you read music, and learn how to print as you play music, then you realize how close the two forms are.

GS A piece can be played many different ways.

LC Indeed. When you play violin, you have many different positions of the arm. It will be the same note, but will give many different impressions if you play the first, the third, or the fifth position. This is where you need to have a good background and technique, to use this foundation to promote your expressiveness.

GS Different composers will interpret a piece differently. Do you oversee the printing of your pictures?

LC Up until now I did all my printing in black and white myself. For color, I use two different labs, and like to use mostly Cibachrome. I sometimes have prints done with the Fresson process, but I’m not entirely happy with it.

GS What brought you to photography?

LC In the beginning, I enjoyed the work of a photographer who was dealing with the bullfight, and I wanted to do the same type of work he was doing. I had no camera at the time, but I had a neighbor whose hobby was collecting secondhand cameras, and he would give them to me to test before he bought them. I started like that and never stopped.

GS So you wanted to capture something you saw in another photographer’s work?

LC I didn't know exactly where I was going. I knew I didn’t want to do commercial work or publicity. I worked a bit for a local paper, to support myself; I was working in a factory at the time, I tried to do some studio work, but it came out too artificial, too organized. I did some theatre work, and liked that. I kept shooting the bullfight, and all that went with that.

GS In the themes you work with, do you feel there are limitations imposed by photography itself?

LC Sometimes I see technical barriers. With the nude work, there is something of a censorship problem. You can’t do the work because other people are there, or there is a prohibition against it...it can be frustrating. And then there’s another aspect—in Point Lobos, for instance. There you’re not only dealing with nature, but with the fact that many other photographers have been there. You know there are certain shots you can’t do because they’ve been done; this shot is the property of Weston, and so on. I used to stay with Ansel Adams out there, and sometimes I’d come back from a shot and say, “Ansel, I’m really frustrated because I can't understand the messages of God today,” and it was true. I would be there, and I wouldn’t be ready to understand what was happening. This is where we are alone and can’t be supported by anybody.

GS There is reinforcement, though, and that's what keeps it going. Even with the frustration, the moments of connection do occur.

LC Well, it’s part of the game. You have to accept that there is a limit somewhere and sometimes you are not ready for what’s going on.

GS Do you remember any pictures that became particularly important for you—that moved you into another exploration?

LC Since 1959 I’ve been dealing with a pond. I was so happy with it that I came back to it each year during a ten-year period to refresh myself, like touching the black stone. And I think this is good.

GS So there is a connection, a moment within the process of shooting that caused this excitement?

LC Yes, and this sometimes irritates people, because you cannot share this instant. It’s very nice when it’s happening. It’s not a frequent occurrence, but sometimes you immediately have this fabulous feeling, because you are receptive to it all.

GS Is there any way that you gear yourself for receptivity, or is it something that is part of your life now?

LC On one side, we know a lot so we can go much faster; on the other side, we go slowly because we see what we have missed. It’s a strange situation. What you think when you are twenty, when you are thirty, forty, fifty is so different. I am almost in my fifties, and I look back and say, "Oh, I was able to do all this in that amount of time,” but no, I still work. I have to follow what is new and go ahead. I like to provoke myself, to take risks, because that is the way I prosper and get encouragement.

GS So the provocation, is that a form of inspiration for you

LC I like the words of Cocteau, when he says, "Be ready to catch the invisible, who made the terrible mistake to show up.” To do this, you have to have inspiration, but you have to be careful of it also. Stravinsky said, “Inspiration is like babies, you have to put them on the pot every morning.” You don’t just sit down and wait for inspiration to come; it's work, every day, every day. It’s all part of the game.

Review--Hahnemuehle Bamboo Fine Art Inkjet Paper 290 gsm

An exciting aspect of digital inkjet printing is the wide range of paper surfaces available, an important element of the print’s expression. Now, a new concept in paper composition, surface and “look” has become available—Hahnemuehle’s Bamboo 290gsm, part of the company’s “Natural” lineup.

Photo: Courtesy Hahnemuehle: The Hahnemuehle Natural Lineup includes Bamboo, the subject of this review, and Agave and Hemp made papers. The other papers in the lineup will be reviewed in a future posting.

There are two aspects to the Natural line that make them intriguing: one is the sustainable manufacturing process. All the materials that supply the cellulose in these papers are made from raw materials that require minimal maintenance, grow quickly and do not need any pesticides. The other is their unique look and feel. This review covers Hahnemuehle’s Bamboo paper, dubbed by the company to be ideal for “spiritual” black and white and color images. In addition, the paper is made with no OBAs (optical brightening agents) and has “certified archivability”—their phrase, not mine.

Paper Surface and Rendition

Bamboo is a natural white, warm tone paper with a lightly textured, almost buff surface that I found to be an interesting choice for warm tone and certain other monochrome images. The paper is somewhat warm, but not brown/yellow, although when a blank sheet is held next to a bright white paper the differences become apparent.  In my tests it also performed well with color, albeit those that lend themselves to a low-saturation rendition. In terms of monochrome, it gave me impressive results from a series of images made with an IR (infrared) altered digital camera, probably the most expressive prints from those images I have ever made. Perhaps as important, it engenders a search for other images that would benefit from its unique look and feel.

My first instinct for testing was a group of images made with an IR-converted DSLR. This photo was made in The Everglades, and the paper match was just right and resulted in the most expressive prints I have ever made from this set. Copyright George Schaub.

Test Procedure

I did my tests using a Canon Pro-1000 printer and processed via Photoshop. I first downloaded the ICC profile from the Hanhnemuehle web site (www.hahnemuehle.com) and added it to my Color Sync profiles on my Mac. I printed using the dedicated profile in Photoshop managed color as well as printer managed (with black and white checked in the dialog box for monochromes), choosing heavy weight matte as the media. Both worked with matte black ink. The fairly heavy weight (290 gsm) requires a single sheet rear loading procedure with this Canon and other similar level desktop printers.

This is a single-sided (coated) paper, so it’s important to determine the printable side, as the slight texture can make it difficult at first to tell front from back. You can feel the difference by running your fingertip along the surface to feel the grain, which is slight in this paper. I could also see a distinct difference in the surfaces when angling the paper back and forth under a strong light. The company literature advises, if need be, to get a sense of front from back by slightly wetting your finger to feel the more “resistant” grain, although I hesitated to do this, fearing I would harm the print surface, but if you do this be sure to do so along an edge.

The company also advises that you might get a slight coating loss onto the print transport after running numerous prints, and suggests that you run one or a few (uncoated) standard sheets through to clear the transport, which should handle any problems. (Note: I did not notice any problems in that regard after going through 25 sheets of 13x19” paper.)

Print Controls and Options

As mentioned, I ran some tests using both printer and Photoshop managed color, the former using “heavyweight Fine Art matte” and the latter using the downloaded profile. Side-by-side I noticed slight differences in the darker values, with the profiled print showing slightly more open values, but nothing dramatic. There was also a very slight difference in the print color, with the Photoshop-profiled one being somewhat more neutral in tone than the printer-profiled one, which was a tad warmer.

While tonal values on prints are not always literally translated to repro, the paper can produce a deep black, although it certainly does not have the snap found in glossy or Vellin surfaces. It's more like a "buff" black look, akin to charcoal or chalk pastel. Copyright:  George Schaub

One control you might want to test is found in the small checkboxes under the preview in Photoshop, particularly “Match Print Color.” Click it on and off to see what best matches the image you have loaded. In some cases it can be quite noticeable, and assuming your setup is profiled it will give you a better visual idea of what will result. In some cases it can help with “un-muddying” darker values and resulted in a crisper, though not deep black, but again test this, as it seems to be image dependent.

Image Intent

This brings up matching image with idea and result with intent. This is a paper that renders values in a unique way, one that you could describe as “spiritual.” It’s not a matter of sharpness, but of mood. I would not choose this paper for color-rich or deep black value images, which I usually print to bring out the “snap.” That’s why my first instinct was working with those IR images, which have unique mid-range and especially highlight values. In that sense it is a paper designed for select, not general printing.

Bamboo is versatile enough to allow you to create a wide range of expression. This photo was made with a Lensbaby auxiliary lens and has a naturally soft "aura." I dropped the saturation to match the mood and came up with a look and feel that was quite different from any print I had ever made from this image. Copyright George Schaub

This became apparent when I switched from IR to landscapes with high contrast values, which I usually print on a Vellin or smooth rag surface. The blacks are there in the Bamboo stock, but have a feeling of buff rather than hard rendition. I printed some images deep with very slightly suppressed highlights, and found that every nuance came through in both highlights and mid-tones. In any case it’s a unique look, one that creates an entirely different impression than other papers.

(One tip is to give the print time to dry down before you make any quick adjustments. The print sets after an hour or so, although you probably should give it more time before you rush back to change the contrast or value settings, especially in dark tonal areas.)

One option perhaps worthy of exploration is making copy prints from old images. I copied this carte de visite from the nineteenth century and tried it out and got a nice rendition of values that, combined with the print surface, gave it a true look and feel.

Conclusion

Overall, I always welcome new papers to add to my creative gamut, and given the right image and processing, Hahnemuehle’s Bamboo 290 gsm will hold a special place in my paper stock cabinet when it comes to nature, landscape and even portraiture. While monochrome printers should certainly consider checking it out, those trying it with color images of a certain mood and style will also find new expressive avenues to explore.

More info: https://www.hahnemuehle.com/en/digital-fineart/fineart-media/natural-line/p/Prod

1.      

: Hemp is a bright white matt paper with a slight textural surface, ideal for color work; and Agave has a more textural surface with a bright white base. All the papers are 290gsm and none use optical brighteners.

Interview Series Part 1: Gordon Parks

The following is an excerpt from an interview by Grace Schaub with Gordon Parks in 1998. This interview and 33 others are contained in the book "Twentieth Century Photographers" published by Focal Press, copies of which can be ordered via the Focal Press and Amazon websites in hardback, soft cover and e-book editions. This is Part 1 of a series of interviews with photographers that will be posted on this site.

Grace Schaub: What did working for Roy Stryker and the FSA do for your photographic career?

Gordon Parks: Going to the FSA was the turning point in my career.  I learned how to use the camera as a weapon against discrimination, poverty, and all the things one likes or dislikes about the universe.

GS: What was Stryker's influence on the photographers who worked with him?

GP: Stryker wasn't a photographer himself, as you know, but we would talk about how to point a camera, where to point it, and how to speak with it.

GS: The FSA, then, was a good training ground for you?

GP: I think working with Roy Stryker, and the photographers I was fortunate enough to work with, formed my opinions about how to shoot a picture--the structure of it, and so on. All of us were inclined to shoot a picture full frame--the way we saw it, and that's the way we wanted to see it published.  After working a few years with the FSA, it became natural for me to shoot and see this way.  Years later, when I worked at LIFE magazine, the editors very seldom cropped my pictures, even when it came to my fashion work. The picture editors were respectful of certain photographers and the way they shot, like Eugene Smith, who shot with the entire scene in mind--just like a painter approaches his or her painting.  You wouldn't crop a Picasso or a Degas. The editors had that kind of respect for you. Even today, I look at something and I frame it immediately.  Its always a balance, its automatic, not a search.  You look and there it is, the composition comes immediately.

GS: Do you think an FSA or a "Stryker" force would be relevant today?

GP: We certainly need it. Stryker always taught us to think before we shot--and not to just use up a lot of film.  He would prefer you came back with ten pictures as long as they were good, rather than one hundred that were so-so.  He didn't like you to use a wide angle lens unless the picture called for one.  Today, photographers use a wide angle lens for every shot just because it's a good focal length, and they don't have to worry about depth of field.  We were more discriminating in our choice of lenses. We would use the lens that suited the purpose and the subject matter.

GS: What camera format are you most comfortable using?

GP: I've used a 2 1/4 for awhile and its fine for fashion, faces, and details, but Ive learned to love the 35mm format.  I had a Contax, a Rolliflex, and at one time a Speed Graphic, but when I got to LIFE magazine, I prefered to use a 35mm camera.  They wanted the photographers to use the larger formats back then, but we crammed it down their throats because it was so much more flexible to go with the smaller format.  Working with the 35mm camera was good training for my future involvement with film directing.  The first film I shot,The Learning Tree, was in Panavision, which is practically the same format, so it served me well.

GS: When you were working for the FSA you were shooting in black and white?  At LIFE was it mostly black and white or color?

GP: Most of the stories were in black and white. Eventually we got into color.  Fashion stories were invariably shot in color to show the fabrics.  Certain stories just didn't come off in color.  I did a story on discrimination in the south, and shot it all in color.  When I saw the results, I felt it just didn't work as well as black and white would have.  I was assigned to shoot another story on discrimination, this time in the north, and told my editors I wanted to shoot in black and white.  I did, and it was much more effective than the color piece.

GS: Why was that?

GP: There is something about color--the gradations of the tones, that can make a dirty street or even a rag look beautiful. You might be shooting the most catastrophic scene in the world--for example poverty or the war zone.  Color takes away from the harshness that is needed to show poverty-stricken areas.  I know if I had shot Flavio in color it would have been a disaster.  Certain things are a natural to shoot in black and white.

GS: Would the editors generally give you the option?

GP: Yes, the editors at LIFE pretty much left it to the discretion of the photographer.  They seldom pressed you to shoot in color unless you really felt you needed it.  They may have asked you to carry a couple of rolls of color film also, and if something was beautiful, and you weren't trying to say more than that, you went with color. 

GS: What was it like working at LIFE magazine during what is considered the "golden era" of photography?

GP: That was the golden era.  We had all the big format magazines like LIFE, LOOK, THE SATURDAY EVENING POST, where photographers could really spread out their work.  The beauty of working for LIFE in those days was that they didn't give you any time limit.  You could stay on assignment until you got the coverage you needed, rather than rush back, because of lack of funds or time.

GS: No deadlines?

GP: Generally, there weren't any tight deadlines.  Unless, of course, you were covering a topical story and it was needed that week to close out the magazine.  In which case, you hustled and got it off as quickly as possible.

If you were in Paris or London, you got your film developed at the labs and they sent it back to the states for you directly.  In many cases, the photographer didn't get to see his pictures until he returned to the U.S. And that could be two years down the road.

I remember once shooting a story for LIFE on American Poets, I worked on it for one year.  There are certain things you have to wait for, you can't force them.  If you don't wait your pictures will show you forced it. I came in and handed the editors twelve 35mm transparencies for the story.  That's what I wanted.  I shot the poets I wanted and selected the pictures, they accepted it, and ran it.  For that story, I spent a year meeting and photographing poets, reading poetry, and interpreting it the way I wanted for the story. 

In a similar vein, for the magazine SHOW, I went to Brazil to try and capture the feeling of the music of Villa-Lobos.  I also wrote poetry along with the pictures I shot.  It was a very difficult thing to do, but it made me think.

GS: How did you develop this approach to covering a story?

GP: I learned it from Stryker.  Although, I didn't write poetry for him while at the FSA, I learned to take the time to think about my work from him.  And that's what I feel is needed today.  Photographers should learn to think before they shoot--not just send a barrage of shots off with a high-powered, motorized camera.  You would be surprised at the number of photographs brought to the lab at Life magazine by just one photographer covering a football game. Sometimes two hundred rolls of film are shot for just one assignment, and only three or four pictures are used.

GS: That's a lot of film.

GP: Its an absolute waste of film.  The photographer puts his or her camera up there and shoots in a motorized situation, and knows something will come out of it.  Well, I don't like to shoot that way.  I don't like equipment that tells me what to do, I like to be able to tell the equipment what to do.  So, I don't buy all the fancy new gadgets and cameras.  I still have my old cameras.

GS: Many photographers on assignment today have deadlines, limited time, and budgets, and the work is rushed in.

GP: Stryker would send you off on a story to cover New England.  If you asked him, "Where do I go."  His answer would be, "Go where you want to go, to New England."  Well, then,"When should I come back?"  Stryker would say " Don't worry about it--go shoot and come back when you feel as though you've got the story covered.  Just keep in touch with the home office."   Stryker was the same way at Standard Oil when I worked for him there.  He sent us out to cover America.  Well, he knew you couldn't cover it in a week or two; for something like that you would be gone for about six months.

GS: Sounds like a great way to work.

GP: When you are given that kind of flexibility, you learn a lot more, and you're not just shooting a lot of stuff that isn't necessary.  But, I know  there are many photographers who have only a week in which to complete their assignment, so they shoot as much as possible.

GS: How has photography affected your life?

GP: Photography has made it possible for me to do many things.  I didn't take to writing until I was assigned to the Paris bureau for LIFE magazine.  It was there I met Camus and Richard Wright.  I got to know so many people in Paris who inspired me.  I wanted to say something with the typewriter.  I also started composing music in Paris.  It had always been my ambition to be a concert pianist.

GS: In what year were you assigned to the Paris bureau?

GP: 1950. 

GS: What was it like for you over there?

GP: I was not so caught up being a black man in a foreign country.  Here, in America, it was an ongoing fight against discrimination--before the sixties it was a constant battle.  Your thoughts centered on one thing--survival.

When I got to Paris my mind was free and I began to pursue other things.  I was able to take time to compose, write, and do all those things I wanted to do.  I also had time between assignments.  At LIFE, it could be two months before another assignment came through, and I wouldn't waste that time. I either  wrote poetry, composed music, or wrote books.

GS: Were there any opportunities denied you in photography?

GP: I haven't been denied much in photography.  I pretty much had my own way at the FSA.  I wasn't shuttled off to do certain things because I was black.  At LIFE magazine, I covered royalty, fashion, crime, poverty, discrimination--I did everything. LIFE was very good about that.

GS: The nineteen sixties was a decade of political and racial unrest, and you covered many of LIFE's most historically important stories.  Would you talk about your relationship with the magazine during that time?

GP: The difficult thing about the sixties was that when reporting on the Black Muslims, the Black Panthers, and black leaders like Malcolm X, Stokely Carmichael, Eldridge Cleaver, and others, I had to walk a very tight rope.  I let all the people I covered know that they shouldn't tell me or do anything they didn't want me to report, because I'm here to report--and they understood that.  I went to talk to Eldridge Cleaver when he was in exile in Algiers.  He understood my position, in fact, he offered me the post of Minister of Information of the Black Panthers.  I wasn't out there as a black reporter, but as a reporter, and I had to prove to LIFE magazine that I could do it, and they had faith in me.  I've called myself an objective reporter with a subjective heart.  I had to look and size things up for myself without overloading them.  Once I did that, LIFE had confidence in me doing anything.  But I'm sure, at first they thought they couldn't send Gordon out to do the Black Muslim story because he's going to overload it, because he's black also.  But I proved differently, and that I was as fair as I could possibly be in the situation.

Those were rough times.  I had to write my own stories.  I couldn't trust anyone else to write them because one word could twist the meaning--just one word, so I had to check all the stories before they were put out on the line.  I had to be sure everything was correct--It could have been very dangerous for me also.

GS: Did you welcome the opportunities to do those stories?

GP: Yes.  For instance, when Martin Luther King was assassinated, LIFE called me up.  I was out in Hollywood working on a film at the time.  They said, "Gordon, this is for you, can you write the piece?" I said, "Sure, I'll be on the next plane to Atlanta for the funeral," and I was.   For stories like that, they would say, "Nobody can do it like you," and I wanted to do those  stories. It was the same thing with the Black Muslims, the Panthers, Malcolm X, and Stokely Carmichael.  The magazine knew I could get closer than a white photographer could.  And, I wanted to do those stories very much because they were roaring times in the sixties and I wanted to be there with my camera.  So, I was never limited one way or another.  I never suffered particularly by being a black photographer.