Maierson’s Editing & Educational Prowess

I’m eager to send major kudos to Maierson, both for his editing genius and for helping us lesser multimedia editors in understanding how he approaches the process.

Beyond the two posts mentioned, Maierson was nice enough to respond to my last post, greatly helping me advance my understanding of what it means to “edit rhythmically.” Very nice of him, indeed.

One great quality of Maierson as an educator is that he links his tips to samples in projects hosted on MediaStrom, so we gain the chance to understand what he is saying in action. This is no small matter. As he wrote when telling me about editing rhythmically, “It sounds a bit oblique written out like this. . . ” Indeed. Samples are required for advancing learning.

Learning To Transition Ideas & Themes Watching “Black Market” by Patrick Brown

Of Maierson’s first 10 multimedia editing suggestions, the one that most caught me attention was #5: “Use image sequences to transitions between ideas or themes.”

“What?” I thought. Maierson explained:

Think of image sequences as paragraph breaks between two big ideas. Sometimes these sequences need only be two photographs long, or on occasion even one will suffice. See the poaching sequence in Black Market for an example.

I loved the idea, but it wouldn’t have meant much if I hadn’t carefully watched “Black Market” by photojournalist Patrick Brown. “Black Market” is powerful, sad and important — classic in-depth photojournalism brought to much fuller affect (and to a much wider audience) thanks to the use of beautifully executed multimedia (produced by Brian Storm and Eric Maierson). And the numerous, well-crafted transitions between ideas are critical to the success of the 10-minute piece.

Watching To Learn, Without Completely Understanding

As I watched “Black Market” I was following Maierson’s advice, carefully on the lookout for the poaching sequence that would help me understand how to use image sequences like “paragraph breaks between two big ideas.” However I admit that I wasn’t sure exactly where to look, even though he had mentioned the “poaching sequence.”

Many times before the poaching sequence arrived I found myself noting breaks between paragraphs, transitions between ideas — especially beautiful transitional moments in the time line at 4:05, 5:00, 5:48 and 8:46 — and so I wasn’t clear if I was totally understanding Maierson’s point, even though I felt like I was seeing it in action.

I’m almost hesitant to share these specific moments in the time line of “Black Market,” as you might head right to them, looking for the answer. But what I’m learning from Maierson’s teaching is that there is no one, specific answer.

I often offer up multimedia and video samples as great inspiration, saying, “Here! Watch this!” But perhaps inspiration on its own is not enough — not if it doesn’t foster our thinking in ways that help us to improve our craft. Maierson is showing me that the best way to learn multimedia is not to:

A) Just watch and be inspired, and also not to:

B) Watch expecting a specific lesson to simply sink in, but instead to:

C) Watch with an idea of what can be learned — with a little guidance from the likes of Maierson — and then try to figure it out myself.

What the heck am I talking about?

What I’m talking about is that when I moved to Argentina more than four years ago I had big dreams about learning Spanish and traveling all over South America and making great images and telling even greater stories. But that didn’t happen. For one thing, learning Spanish — I mean really learning to live with the stuff — has proved far more challenging (and rewarding) than I could have have ever imagined. For another thing, I got focused a lot more on the “simple” aspects of daily living that I had never focused on so well in the United States.

BEFORE: Christmas Eve in Villa 31 -- when being an outsider gave me an in.

In short, you could say I moved to Buenos Aires to escape the more mundane aspects of life that I wasn’t handling too well back in the USA and, very much to my surprise, what has happened is that I have come to cherish the mundane more than anything else. Family. Friends. Living in the moment. Taking care of body and mind.

Then this Human Rights Watch gig seems to fall in my lap, and that’s really exciting. But what’s particularly nice I don’t feel manic excited or super lucky or all revved up, like I’ve won the lottery or something. I just feel mellow lucky and, more than anything, I feel really lucky that it was the circuitous, couldn’t-have-predicted-that route that has brought me here. I did not get here, as so many successful people proclaim, by keeping my eye clearly on the prize. How the hell could I? I didn’t know what the prize was. I was stumbling and I still am, but this week the stumbling feels like it has a bit more grace to it.

I am writing all this by way of sharing that it is not my photography skills nor my desire to work with multimedia nor my great business skills that created this opportunity with Human Rights Watch. What really allowed me to get this job is the fact that I live in Buenos Aires, that I learned the language and that, more than anything, I can see the cultural as both an insider and an outsider. This is not only allows me to get access to the subjects and images I need but, more important, to understand what I am seeing and experiencing, and to have a sense of how to communicate to specific segments of both Argentine and American populations.

This feels very special, and my success with Human Rights Watch this week has brought this all into clear focus.

When I first arrived in Buenos Aires it was easy to make pictures of strangers. I’d just walk up to them and smile and click, click, click. A year-and-a-half after arriving (still a relatively wide-eyed stranger, if you can believe that) on Christmas Eve I walked into Villa 31 and spent the night taking pictures. Villa 31 is a “very dangers, don’t-go-there” kind of place, but I had no problem at all. Just went around smiling and click, click, clicking. It’s easy to make friends as an outsider.

Then, at some point, I stopped being able to do that. I was nervous. I the more I felt like I lived here, the more awkward I would feel taking pictures like a tourist or a foreign photojournalist. I understood what people were saying when they asked, “Why are you taking my picture?,” and my Spanish was good enough to answer back. But I didn’t have a good answer. I no longer felt comfortable paying for images with a friendly, innocent smile. It turns out that when you start to become a bit of an insider, smiling and click, click, clicking is generally frowned upon. Playing the fool is just foolish.

When I went to Hospital Alvarez to photograph for Human Rights Watch I felt completely at home. My wife-to-be works in two public hospitals and conditions that shocked me four years ago now just seem utterly, comfortably normal. (What do you call an entire hallway covered with graffiti, or another hallway stuffed with people who have been waiting in broken chairs for hours? Normal.) And while I was photographing I was able to chat casually with my subjects, making connections with more than just a smile, explaining exactly what I was up to, asking them questions to help with my reporting.

AFTER: Hospital Alvarez, maternity ward, three weeks ago -- when seeing and making an image requires the insider's perspective.

I believe in luck and serendipity. But as forces totally out of my control, I don’t believe they do me any good (or bad). I don’t bow down to them or depend on them or wax poetic about them. So if I have spent this post waxing just a bit, I want to be clear that I’m not celebrating the ability to make things happen the way I want them to happen. What I am rambling on about is just the opposite. What I am pleased with today is how I have been lucky and how I have made things happen for myself without having a very clear idea at all of where I wanted to head. I’m celebrating the fact that my image making lifestyle seems to be beginning to serve as reflection of how what is most important to me — belong to a culture and seeing it from within.

For the “Illusions of Care” cover I was charged with making an image that spoke to the report’s theme — roadblocks to better reproductive health care for women and girls in Argentina. I could not show the identity of anyone I photographed, unless I obtained a model release, and so I focused on a graffiti-filled hallway in the maternity ward at Hospital Alvarez in Buenos Aires. (The graffiti “Aca nacio” features prominently in the image. “Born here” in Spanish.)

Actually, I was able to get model releases from a number of women I photographed. And some of these images show the women with distressed expressions that might have made a more powerful cover image. However, using one of these images for “Illusions of Care” would have been disingenuous, to say the least. The care at Alvarez maternity ward is excellent. The women’s expressions were the result of them being in various stages of labor.

Although many of the images I made at Alvarez were not right for the report cover, I’ll likely be able to use some in the multimedia project I am now working on for HRW.

Building Trust Was Key

A couple months back Marianne Møllman, the author of “Illusions of Care, contacted me to see if I might be able to make a cover image for the report. I told her I was very interested in putting my camera to work for HRW here in Argentina, and we began having a number of conversations over a number of weeks. Møllman had two big concerns:

1. Would I utterly respect the privacy of the women I would photograph?

2. How would we be able to convey all the themes of the report with only one cover image?

Issue Number One was the most important, and more than anything it required a lot of honest, open talking on both our parts. I couldn’t just tell Møllman I was a respectful photographer. I had to show her by asking questions about her work, showing my genuine interest in the topic, sharing my experiences living in Buenos Aires and also sharing images I have made that required a sensitive reporting approach. Over time she was clearly gaining confidence in me, but we were still getting held up on a “go” by Issue Number Two.

Issue Number Two is really not that big of an issue, of course. No one photograph can ever tell an entire story but can only give a sense of the story. For one cover shot that’s all we would want to do. Møllman seemed to appreciate the point and seemed close to saying “yes.” However,  she still had not given me a “go” for one cover shot when she suddenly gave me a “go” for a much bigger multimedia project. Let me explain.

Landing a Multimedia Job by Listening to Colleagues

My talks with Møllman overlapped with the reporting I was doing on my latest article on multimedia: strategies for photographers “moving into motion.” These conversations were getting me very excited about possibilities in multimedia (some of which I shared in posts featuring Tony Wu, Mary Lynn Price, Ian Shive, Ralph Clevenger and Rob Sheppard.) Of all the great thoughts from photographers racing through my mind, two were particularly prominent in relation to my life:

1. Photographers can learn multimedia skills on the job.

2. Photographers can increase the value of still imaging services by offering multimedia solutions.

With these thoughts on my mind I got an email from Møllman checking in about how we might proceed with a cover shot. Almost reflexively I shot back an email reply that seemed quite natural, saying something like:

“You know what we should really do? We should make a relatively simple multimedia piece that uses extensive still images and a voice over narration and possibly a little royalty-free music. It can be in Spanish and in English, and we can post it on YouTube and the Human Rights Watch multimedia site, and it can really help get out the information in your report in a different, very effective manner.”

“Yes! Let’s do it,” is basically what Møllman wrote back immediately

In short, while we had been spending a lot of time working to get to a “yes” for one single cover image, we easily and quickly arrived at a “yes” for a bigger multimedia project — agreeing on a fee that is reasonable for them and which makes me pleased as punch, especially considering — shh! — this is the kind of job I would be willing to do for free.

This is from the Gail Mooney’s new website, “Opening Our Eyes: Global Stories About the Power of One.” As the site explains, Mooney — an accomplished documentary photographer and filmmaker — will be heading around the world with her daughter, Erin Kelly, to gather the material they need to create a feature length film.

This is a project worth keeping tabs on. For one thing, it’s Mooney’s latest personal project, which are always impressive, as she uses them to push her photography forward, both creatively and in terms of business.

“Opening Our Eyes” is particularly interesting to those of us in the industry because Mooney will be pushing her limits in terms of working in both still and motion, employing light and affordable equipment. In short, she will be heading into waters that many of us will heading into ourselves — still & motion — and she does so with the insights of an impressive background in traditional still and motion.

Mooney is in a perfect position to show us how to capture both great stills and motion, ensuring that both get put to the best use. (To see what Mooney’s capable of, check out her shorts for “The Delta Blues Musicians” and “Freedom’s Ride.”)

Freedom’s Ride from Gail Mooney on Vimeo.

This is not to suggest that “Opening Our Eyes” will be about photography for photographers. Hardly. As always, Mooney will focus on the story — on her subjects — focusing on the task of best communicating that story to the most appropriate audience.

Nonetheless, Mooney is very interested in sharing what she learns with photographers. She has already been sharing her knowledge for photographers transitioning to video through her posts on the “ASMP’s Strictly Business Blog,” as well as by giving seminars on the topic.)

As Mooney makes clear, one main ingredient of her “Opening Our Eyes” project will be to rely on the power of serendipity. Much of this serendipity is driven by her involvement the social media of Web 2.0. Mooney has been increasingly embracing social media over the last year  — FaceBook, LinkedIn, Twitter, blogging — and much of the planning for “Opening Our Eyes” has come from the web of interconnectivity she has found in the social media realm.

In “Journeys of a Hybrid,” Mooney’s inspiring blog on photography and filmmaking, Mooney has been writing about “Opening Our Eyes.” The details of “Booking a Round the World Airline Ticket” are both daunting and inspiring. This post is also featured on the “Opening Our Eyes” site, showing that Mooney will have some blogging crossover. But not always.

Today, on “Journey’s of a Hybrid” Mooney posted  “Putting Together a DSLR Video Kit — And Why,” and it likely won’t appear on “Opening Our Eyes.” In other words, as Mooney (and partner Erin Kelly) pump up the content of “Opening Our Eyes” over the coming months, Mooney, through “Journey’s”, will be sharing insights on her photographic process for those of us who share her passion for visual storytelling. This is good news for those of us eager to expand our video knowledge.

In Mooney’s “DSLR Video Kit” post, we hear an expert photographer and filmmaker talking to us about how, at Zacuto, she “was looking for products that were designed to help with camera stability, focus aids and audio when using the Canon 5D or 7D which I will soon be purchasing. She goes into many technical details of preparing a modern-day, around-the-world still-video kit. Good stuff.

Gail Mooney and Erin Kelly will be leaving for Uganda on May 25th, returning back to the United States on August 3rd, after making loads of stops to record “global stories about the power one.” The team will then head to South America (dates not certain) to finish their coverage.

Although Mooney has nailed down most dates for “Opening Our Eyes,” she remains open to possibilities about exactly how this project might play out — and she will be posting much of her process on her blogs and other social media outlets.

All of these are major reasons to pay attention to “Opening Our Eyes.” Not only does Mooney welcome supportive fans, but she is interested in direct support and participation — from the people who have suggested story ideas to volunteers who might active participants in content creation or distribution. (”If you know an expert user experience designer who wants to volunteer for the project, let me know,” Mooney told me recently.)

This social media aspect of “Opening Our Eyes” is very new ground for Mooney. She is a pro when it comes to hectic world travel, returning home with great stories in images. But she is showing true courage in her use of social media. Not only is she reaching out for ideas and inspiration, but she is allowing the media to become part of the process, and even the message itself. As she embraces new technology, she also welcomes the powerful possibilities served up by serendipity.

No doubt Gail Mooney will open our eyes with the final products she creates with Erin Kelly for “Opening Our Eyes.” But don’t just wait for the end results. Get hooked into Mooney’s social media network by becoming her FaceBook friend, signing up for RSS feeds to her sites, and watching Mooney’s unfolding process of visual storytelling practices that embrace the power of video and social media

“A People in Despair: Haiti’s year without mercy” is a multimedia piece produced by the “Miami Herald” and hosted on their site. It combines Farrell’s incredible black-and-white images with his personal, moving voice-over. It is just over two minutes in length. In this brief time, it is impossible not to be moved and motivated by this work of multimedia journalism.

I say that Farrell moving, perhaps making the viewer feel despair. And perhaps this is all that non-photographers might experience. But for my photographer readers, I add that Farrell (and “The Miami Herald”) also brings us motivation. I say this for two reasons:

• The first relates to Farrell’s mention that he “knew the importance of the coverage,” pointing to the fact that his work (as well as that of his “Miami Herald” college) likely helped motivate greater international response to the desperate situation in Haiti. In short, photojournalism matters. A lot. “A People in Despair” reminds us why, and so it can motivate editorial photographers to continue to push themselves to make a difference.

• The second reason I mention motivation relates to an important theme that I have mentioned many times: The power of evolving modes of multimedia to communicate both more effectively as well as too wider audiences. These developments can be taken advantage of all photographers, not just photojournalists. “A People in Despair” shows how all photographers – from portrait to commercial – can use a just a handful of great images to share stories and portfolios in truly unique and powerful manners.

Only a few years ago, even when photographers made images as powerful as important as Farrell’s, those images could only be shared with a relatively small number of people, in a relatively static format, even if when those images won Pulitzer Prizes or other major awards.

Those times have changed and are continue to change – drastically and rapidly – and this should be motivating to all photographers.

I thank Farrell for his powerful work – forcing himself to push the button when, as he explains, it was nearly impossible for him to do so. I also thank emerging technologies for bringing Farrell’s images to me, allowing me to see them along with his narration here in distant Buenos Aires, as well as allowing me to share them with you.

Watch “A People in Despair” and feel the despair, but also feel the motivation.