I have been very lucky to work as much as I have over the past half year, all while making sure not to take any of the jobs for granted. One thing this industry will teach you is that you never know when your next shoot will be, and if I may add an extension to that idea, it is to always be grateful and humble to have work. The downside to shooting so much is the possibility of burning out, and by burning out I mean not giving everything on set, after all your client deserves more. Recently I took some time away with my wife to Hawaii to not think about work, but rather try and remember who I am when I am not the photographer.

In a sense I needed to return to the ground. My wife, my friends, my family and my photography all deserved a better Blair. A Blair that could care less about press releases, PR and contract negotiations, and was mentally in the room for once instead of thinking about numbers and productions during dinner conversations. I decided that I would not take a computer, and keep my phone turned off. It was a slight nightmare the first day, but I soon found what I was missing from times before photography was my job.

I knew coming home that I had three productions left until my next break, however nothing prepared me for life. The day we landed a family meeting was called, and I learned that one of my family members had been diagnosed with cancer.

Now I have worked on sets the day after my dog died, on days I had the flu, and on days that had seen no sleep the previous night, but nothing has ever hit me like this. The title of the post sums up my involvement with anything surrounding social contact lately. I have stayed away from Twitter, Facebook and this blog, as I have chosen that this matter would remain private. I felt that it was cheating all of you that I try so hard to be completely open with, but family must always come first.

The three campaigns that we shot in the past few weeks all turned out to be incredible as they served as a place for my mind to live, away from the reality. In time I will release the images and I promise they will impress.

I just want to thank the many that have lent an ear to listen and shoulder to cry on and words of support. I am taking the next couple months off to be with my family, but I promise you all that I will return stronger and more grateful than ever for this life.

In the meantime please allow me to end with a saying that a very close friend offered me, though it is vulgar, it has kept my resolve and made me laugh….

FUCK CANCER

Words in the physics realm have rarely been so personified than what we witnessed at the Boston Marathon. As heartbroken as we were staring at the videos of pure massacre, we were equally surprised at the small numbers of those lost, all due to the heroism of the many who ran towards the chaos. Amongst the videos I viewed, one struck me with pride and a restored faith in photography.

It was a video that showed the response to the first blast. In it chaos encompasses the street, but many rush in. While photographers around grab pictures with hopes of Pulitzers, one photojournalist (with 70-200 and 24-70 slung over shoulder) decides that the story is less important than the lives of those impacted by this attack. This unnamed man slings the cameras and opts to start pulling debris off the victims in an effort to help medics access those in need of care.

Without second thought, without a hope for fame and awards, this man gave up any chance of getting “the shot” so that he could help those in need.

While the news will surround itself with the photographers that captured the images of carnage and chaos, rarely (if ever) have they mentioned the photographer that wasn’t taking pictures. In all honesty, I didn’t even notice him until my wife pointed at the television screen and said, “look, that photographer is helping instead of shooting… that is a hero.”

A hero indeed, the man that put the cameras aside to help is an idol to me. He encompassed compassion towards strangers instead of gratification from the public. While humility is easily pronounced in times of good fortune, it takes true character to embrace it in the face of opportunity. Could this anonymous photographer have created an image worthy of a Pulitzer? We will never know. However, did his willingness to give up such awards in order to save complete strangers make him a hero? Undoubtably.

This is what is all boils down to, and why the attacks on Boston mean more for Boston than the coward that bombed the innocent. All this person managed to prove is that man cares enough for one another that opportunity, at the sacrifice of others, just isn’t worth it. When tragedy presents itself to you, be the one that comes to the aid of the few rather than spreads the word to the many.

When the Give Me Strength campaign started, back in December, it was initially thought that it would cover a few days with a few athletes, and maybe a couple additional shots would come along later in the year. That was until we produced the first campaign of four images; a runner, a girl doing yoga, a lacrosse player and a basketball player. To say that the images went over well is an understatement and the call from Mekanism (Muscle Milk’s agency) came in to shoot four more, then another four, then three in NY, another in SF and a final in Aspen. All the while I was trying to keep up with campaigns that had been booked before we ever thought that there would be more shots.

In the end, this campaign cost me a substantial amount of my sanity, however it served to strengthen my appreciation for the people on set and in the office that have made it all possible. From producers to assistants to the DJ we hired to keep things light (yes, we seriously hired a DJ for the shoots and it was awesome), every person was incredible and shares responsibility for this campaign’s success.

With the extensiveness of this body of work, I have decided to release a series of blogs so that you the reader can take in what is was like to be on set. Also, with the amount of pro athletes that we were able to photograph, I figured some shots may warrant more time than others. In the end, once the final photos have been shown, we have also made a behind the scenes video so that you can see the shoot, the shenanigans and have a laugh at my dancing ability. With that said, let’s show some photos…

The idea behind these shots was to show the truest for of athleticism. When arenas are removed and fans don’t exist, the essence of sport is the athlete. Minimalism at it’s finest, we decided action on black would be the key to the series. For consistency we would need a lighting schemata that would be able to be used throughout the campaign. This may sound easy, however trying to find a ratio that holds a strong look over multiple sports like lacrosse, baseball, yoga and cycling is not an easy task at all. Originally I had five different lighting setups that I wanted to use, and then we reduced it to two, however choosing one setup to use for a campaign is like choosing between a Ferrari or Lamborghini… both are good, but you can only drive one.

With quality of light being key and speed needed to capture the action, we decided that we would shoot with four Profoto 8a’s power packs. I hopped around between 16 and 22 on the aperture as sharpness would sell the complexity of the shots.

Now I know that a lot of photographers are touchy about showing their RAW files to the public, but I want this blog to teach, so here it is:

The spray was originally for texture, but over the progression of the campaign it was decided that smoke would be better, and it the transition was made. It was felt that if we could get a strong shot out of camera, then the authenticity of the image and sport would convey better. All to often the “hyper real” style seeps into sports campaigns and we get this very action driven image that consists of 40 photos composited together and called a photograph when it should be called a collage. The sheer number of pieces in this campaign would have meant years and millions spent on the retouching alone, so the realism and action would be done the old fashion way, lighting and timing.

As I said early, we had a crew of people from Muscle Milk, Mekanism and my end that made this one possible, I wish I could write the list down, but I fear way too much chance of forgetting people. So instead, please enjoy some behind the scenes pics (shot by my assistant Dan) of us all making these four shots possible and stay tuned to the blog as we will be releasing the first series of pro athletes in the coming weeks.

A common email I get usually goes along the lines of, “Hi Blair, I am a beginning photographer and am wondering how I can get into ad agencies to shoot ad work?” While the question is valid, the approach is one that feels as though it is the pulse of the industry in it’s current state. I encourage those that have written and those that read this to not search for how to get into agencies, but rather look for where your passion is in photography. Ask yourself what you style is, what is unique to your eye and what you really love about this hobby. The truth of the matter is, many will not get to the upper echelon of photography, some by lack of drive, and others by unwillingness to give up that much of their lives. Even if success at the ad level is achieved for those that want to make money, I promise there is a crushing blow awaiting, for if you don’t have a love for photography first, it is easy to get lost when the work goes away.

Think of it as a friend that you met at a business networking event. Perhaps the relationship is fun and you may exchange texts, but no real trust is formed as it is all topical conversations thinly veiling your want to work together. Is this really a relationship at all? When shit hits the fan, are you going to call this person and tell him you had a bad day, your girlfriend left you or that you have insecurity in you job? No. This is just a “relationship” and there is no ground to stand on in real need. The same can be said about photography.

There will be more recessions, and we all will see times of no work. However, those who based this career on a passion for creating will always have photography, and those that based this career on the want to look cool and make money will be lost. I have often contemplated who the best photographer alive is….. Is he or she a person that is always booked, a jet setter that sees first class more than they should, living a lifestyle of interviews and sponsorships?…… no

I believe the best photographer alive today is most likely a math teacher that cares more about ensuring his kids learn geometry than his possible lucrative career. He loves photography and probably just shoots to decorate his house. He might have a broad knowledge of gear, but would never brag about what camera he is shooting. Most likely he will live a life of humble means and may one day be appreciated for his work after he has passed and his children show his art to a collector. He is a man that I envy, for he will never know how to justify a quarter million dollar campaign, but more importantly, he will never care.

Be proud to be a photographer, but never try to be the “best” photographer. Care little about how much you can impress others with your work, but be passionate about it. After all, photography without passion is accounting.

I am only going to be in Vegas briefly, as in hours, but wanted to give y’all a heads up. I will be around the Nikon, LowePro, LiveBooks and Photoflex booths, so if you see me, please feel free to say “hi”. I am always down to chat photo with anyone, so don’t think I am unapproachable.

It’s Friday, so go get a drink… safely

Bb

My friend and assistant, Ramsey, often is my on set humor to keep things light. On some recent campaigns, we brought him on just to DJ during the shoot… think that sounds crazy? It was the client’s first request when we got brought on to shoot a second campaign.

While we were preparing for the first campaign, he got a spam text message on his iPhone. Now we have all gotten them, and most of us just throw them away, no Ramsey. What followed was hundreds of texts to the spammer that were comedic gold, and ended in the spammer having Ramsey’s number blocked on his phone.  But fear not, we saved them all and would like to present them to you, enjoy.

Easiest way to view them is to click on the first one (top left) and then use the arrows to go through them in order.

However, the watch that today’s blog is about was purchased not for my need to commemorate milestones of my own, but to remember the greatness of others. The watch I am talking about is iconic in simplicity, reliability, and a staple in every watch collection. I am talking about none other than the Omega Speedmaster, the first watch ever worn on the moon.

At first glance the Speedmaster is a nonevent in comparison to the exposed gears and super complicated movements that dominate the modern watch market. However, this watch isn’t one that is purchased to be flashy, as usually only other watch guys will recognize it. The Speedmaster is a purchase in heritage, history and respect.  For many guys in their thirties, this is the watch that their fathers wore and will most likely become a family heirloom. It is a timepiece that floated into immortality when Buzz Aldrin stepped out of Apollo 11 and on to the Sea of Tranquility. Now yes, Neil Armstrong was the first man on the moon, however he had left his Speedmaster in the lunar module.

To me, the Speedmaster represents a bridge of accomplishment, the veritable milestone of mankind’s achievements. The mechanism of measuring the linear denotation of that which we know as “time” and its transcendence into the previously unmeasured heavens. Man created the concept of the second, then created the instrument to measure this concept, and then used it to travel to the moon… beautiful.

There are many horological approaches to picking a model of Speedmaster that brings connotative sentimental to the owner. Some say that finding a pre 1969 (pre moon) model is best, while others saying the 1969 represents the accomplishment. For me, I chose a combination of retro and modern (like I did with my Tag Heuer Monaco) and went with the model dubbed the “sapphire sandwich” or 3573.50.00 for the uber watch geeks out there. After searching for many months, I found one and received it at my doorstep the morning of my 30th birthday party. It was August 25th, 2012.

I set it, put it on, and remember standing outside looking at it and then looking up, at first it was to remember where this watch had been, but sadly it found new sentiment soon after. That afternoon word came through that Neil Armstrong had passed away. I soon realized that fate had not delivered the watch to my doorstep that day to remind me of my success, but to let me celebrate, along with many others in the world that day, the success and the life of a man that embodied greatness and humility, Neil Armstrong.

However, when I got the call to fly out to Vegas and photograph the Richard Harrison from Pawn Stars, I was going into a situation that was somewhat unfamiliar as I watched the show pretty commonly. It was one of those shows that I could get work done around the house while i had it on in the background and never really miss much. I have always been a history and museum type of person, and on the show it was like walking through the exhibits that never were. This also meant that going into the photoshoot I knew the characters, and in effect knew I was going to photograph a crotchety old man….. or so it would seem.

Upon arriving at the shop I found myself to be a bit taken back by how common it was. Other than the back of the shop where Pawn Stars merchandise is sold, it is a pawn shop, nothing more. Being a watch collector, I was hoping that the fame that national exposure brought them would bring along with it some nice timepieces, of which I thought I might pick one up for memento’s sake. However, it was a sea of ordinary horology, almost telling the stories of lives gambled away in the casinos down the street. There were family heirloom Rolexes that had seen many anniversaries and grandchildren, yet were pawned for a mere pittance in a final effort to earn back assets lost. The quick walk of the shop left me feeling nostalgically sad for what culminations led to the merchandise.

After a few minutes the producer came and told me that the old man would like to see me, and that we could start getting ready for the shoot. In all honesty, I was apprehensive of what the next couple hours of my life would bring. Opting to not go right into shooting, I chose to sit down with the Old Man, and talk to him, get to know the non-celebritised person with hopes to develop a report that would show in my images. As is many times the case with talking to a celebrity, I learned more about who I was in the efforts I took to learn who he is. Beneath all the gripes on the show and the almost iron fist that he rules the shop with, he is a very soft, kind person. I had just lost my grandfather a couple months before the shoot, yet sitting in a small room talking about cars, family, life, it was as though I were being allowed to have a conversation with him again. It was also very familiar to me from the days that I shot The Deadliest Catch, because the compassion for family mirrored that of Captain Phil’s love for his sons.

I then started to realize that people like the Old Man and Captain Phil existed on a level of character that prevailed regardless of cameras of fame. While so many have given their lives over to the proverbial “15 minutes”, these men were of a generation of bona fides, where legacy meant more than worth. Irony thrives in the idea that the shows we watch now seem to have diluted a real creed by exploiting a false reality.

Often I take the opportunity to attempt to zone out of life completely. Be it through podcasts, catching up on shows or playing games. Today’s blog is about the latter, a game called Plague Inc. on iOS and Android. It is mindless and monotonous, and centers around eradicating humanity by creating a plague. Twisted, yes, but while I sitting on a flight full of super flu carrying kids that stick random toys in there mouth and then put said toy on the tray in an effort to spread whatever sore throat or fever they have, it is nice to see what their efforts are contributing to.

While I’m on the subject of the kids on a plane (much scarier than Snakes on a Plane, and not as funny), when can we have adults only plane flights? I’m not talking skeevy flights with the stewardesses dressing like nurses or school girls, but flights where people wash their hands and don’t cry on take off, landing and all the time in-between. As much as I would love to have chairs with massage functions built into them, I would equally like to not have the five year old behind me take out his angst against mommy by kicking the back of my seat.

On Bb Air, we would still be paying $10 for the alcohol, however the bottles would be bigger than the thimbles that they currently serve them in. Also, pets would not fly below the plane… I will be booking out the row so that I can sit next to my German Shepards, who actually have better hygiene than the kid that caused me to write this. Oh, and did you know that you can actually fly on a plane with a freakin pony? Seriously, go check it out, I’ll wait. Imagine how many “bad turbulence” stories you can trump with, “the person next to me had a horse.”

Oh, and go get the game.

So why the statement of social awkwardness to start this Friday’s blog? I just want you to have reference of my proclivity before telling you that I am also that guy that screams like a little girl every time a Ferrari passes a McLaren.

For those that don’t know what I mean by this, it is a reference to my unhealthy obsession of Formula 1 racing. It started when I was in high school. I would sit around watching the races over and over again while my other friends had lives. It is one of the aspects of my life that makes no sense at all.

I never get star-struck by celebrities, as I have to photograph them regularly, this would be detrimental to my work. However, in the presence of the crowd at the US Grand Prix, I was totally guilty of screaming every time one of my favorite drivers was shown on the Jumbotron.

Said passion finds its culmination in one team, the only team, Ferrari.

While scientist research at CERN in an effort to find dark matter, I am going through the same scientific analysis to prove that we bleed red because God is a Ferrari fan.

Today marks the launch of Ferrari’s new horse in the F138, and so my hats off and a toast to a season that sees them winning so easily that fans become bored and watch reruns of Magnum PI in order to see a Ferrari move a bit slower.

Cheers!