The Pulitzer Prize is an idea; it’s a vote of confidence. Like literature, it exists purely in the mind. —Jeffrey Eugenides
The annual Pulitzer Prizes were awarded yesterday and, as with every year for the past 30, I had just a momentary touch of jealousy. There was a very brief period in my life where I thought I wanted that particular recognition, or at least, the money that goes along with it. The cash would always come in handy, but I no longer truly desire that prize because what one has to photograph to win the damn thing doesn’t suit me particularly well.
If you’re not sure what I’m talking about, let’s take a look at the Pulitzer winners in the photography categories for the past ten years. Stop me when you notice a pattern.
2007 Breaking News Photography: Oded Balilty of Associated Press For his powerful photograph of a lone Jewish woman defying Israeli security forces as they remove illegal settlers in the West Bank.
Feature Photography: Renée C. Byer of The Sacramento Bee For her intimate portrayal of a single mother and her young son as he loses his battle with cancer.
2008 Breaking News Photography: Adrees Latif of Reuters For his dramatic photograph of a Japanese videographer, sprawled on the pavement, fatally wounded during a street demonstration in Myanmar.
Feature Photography: Preston Gannaway of Concord (NH) Monitor For her intimate chronicle of a family coping with a parent’s terminal illness.
2009 Breaking News Photography: Patrick Farrell of The Miami Herald For his provocative, impeccably composed images of despair after Hurricane Ike and other lethal storms caused a humanitarian disaster in Haiti.
Feature Photography: Damon Winter of The New York Times For his memorable array of pictures deftly capturing multiple facets of Barack Obama’s presidential campaign.
2010 Breaking News Photography: Mary Chind of The Des Moines Register For her photograph of the heart-stopping moment when a rescuer dangling in a makeshift harness tries to save a woman trapped in the foaming water beneath a dam.
Feature Photography: Craig F. Walker of The Denver Post For his intimate portrait of a teenager who joins the Army at the height of insurgent violence in Iraq, poignantly searching for meaning and manhood.
2011 Breaking News Photography: Carol Guzy, Nikki Kahn and Ricky Carioti of The Washington Post For their up-close portrait of grief and desperation after a catastrophic earthquake struck Haiti.
Feature Photography: Barbara Davidson of Los Angeles Times For her intimate story of innocent victims trapped in the city’s crossfire of deadly gang violence.
2012 Breaking News Photography: Massoud Hossaini of Agence France-Presse For his heartbreaking image of a girl crying in fear after a suicide bomber’s attack at a crowded shrine in Kabul.
Feature Photography: Craig F. Walker of The Denver Post For his compassionate chronicle of an honorably discharged veteran, home from Iraq and struggling with a severe case of post-traumatic stress, images that enable viewers to better grasp a national issue.
2013 Breaking News Photography: Rodrigo Abd, Manu Brabo, Narciso Contreras, Khalil Hamra and Muhammed Muheisen of Associated Press For their compelling coverage of the civil war in Syria, producing memorable images under extreme hazard.
Feature Photography: Javier Manzano of Agence France-Presse For his extraordinary picture, distributed by Agence France-Presse, of two Syrian rebel soldiers tensely guarding their position as beams of light stream through bullet holes in a nearby metal wall.
2014 Breaking News Photography: Tyler Hicks of The New York Times For his compelling pictures that showed skill and bravery in documenting the unfolding terrorist attack at Westgate mall in Kenya.
Feature Photography: Josh Haner of The New York Times For his moving essay on a Boston Marathon bomb blast victim who lost most of both legs and now is painfully rebuilding his life.
2015 Breaking News Photography: Photography Staff of St. Louis Post-Dispatch For powerful images of the despair and anger in Ferguson, MO, stunning photojournalism that served the community while informing the country.
Feature Photography: Daniel Berehulak of The New York Times For his gripping, courageous photographs of the Ebola epidemic in West Africa.
2016 Breaking News Photography: Mauricio Lima, Sergey Ponomarev, Tyler Hicks and Daniel Etter of The New York TimesFor photographs that captured the resolve of refugees, the perils of their journeys and the struggle of host countries to take them in. Also receiving the prize is the Photography Staff of Thomson Reuters For gripping photographs, each with its own voice, that follow migrant refugees hundreds of miles across uncertain boundaries to unknown destinations.
Feature Photography: Jessica Rinaldi of The Boston Globe: For the raw and revealing photographic story of a boy who strives to find his footing after abuse by those he trusted.
There you have it: ten years worth of Pulitzer prizes for photography. Every one of those entries represents not only amazing photographs, but unbelievable amounts of pain, sacrifice, loss, and incredible risks, including their own lives. One doesn’t get the pictures awarded here without going where no sane person would want to go and taking pictures that, in a perfect world, would never need to be taken.
Therein lies the reason I don’t want a Pulitzer. If I’m winning a Pulitzer prize for photography, it is because someone else has suffered to such an extent that their suffering is visible through the photographs awarded. Of all the pictures on the list above, only the 2009 award for images of President Obama’s first presidential campaign didn’t come with someone facing death, disease, and/or destruction. Yes, we need to see those pictures, and they almost certainly need to be pushed to the front so that we have to visually confront the horrible reality that faces people other than ourselves. We need to know that while we’re complaining about a WiFi signal, Somali refugees are dying by the hundreds in cold ocean waters. We need to see the suffering caused by a pandemic such as Ebola. Without those pictures, we are not able to appreciate the horrible conditions and we are not as inclined to help rectify those problems.
I’ve known Pulitzer prize winners over the years, though, and those people don’t come out of long-term assignments like that without a few scars, both physical and mental. Not all of them are able to continue. Ghosts of their subjects, some of whom have died in the photographer’s arms, haunt them every time they raise a viewfinder to their eye. Nightmares of bombs going off or people in need tugging at their clothes prevent them from being able to sleep. Some winners refer to the prize as a curse for they can never shake those images and the heart-wrenching emotions that go with them.
Maybe my pictures of a little girl sitting on a stump and being silly are not earth-shatteringly important. Maybe my pictures don’t open people’s eyes to horrible conditions around the world. Maybe my pictures are sometimes simplistic portraits of people who hold no other significance than just wanting to have their picture taken. I’m okay with that.
There are photographers whose pictures are frightening, whose pictures bring your worry, and whose pictures maybe even induce some level of guilt. Those are the ones that win Pulitzers. But if my pictures make you smile, give you a reason to feel confident or good about yourself, or bring back a happy memory, then is that not its own prize? And most the time, I’m not at risk of contracting a deadly disease and dying six months later. I’m good with that.
However, should you feel the need to give me $10,000 for my effort, I won’t turn it down.
Photography, Just Because Or Despite
We hold our heads high, despite the price we have paid, because freedom is priceless. —Lech Walesa
The reasons for being a photographer are both noble and challenging
I seriously hesitated before choosing this morning’s pictures. These pictures were taken on the Tipster’s third birthday. Today, we celebrate her sixth. She’s grown a lot, changed a lot, but those eyes are still as dark as midnight and that expression on her face is still a mixture of happiness and curiosity and sheer mischievousness. Despite all that, though, when I might have had opportunity to take her picture again yesterday, on exactly the same perch where these were made, I didn’t. My excuse was that I’d left my camera inside and didn’t want to risk leaving the kids in the yard by themselves, not even for the few seconds it would have taken to get the camera. The real reason, though, was one of a different caution: I didn’t want anyone to see me taking pictures of a child without her mother present.
The reality of being a photographer in 2016 forces us into making those decisions that we really don’t want to make. Despite all the advances in technology, despite all the court cases upholding photographers’ rights, despite all the precautions we might take to avoid any indication of wrongdoing, too often we find ourselves not even bothering to take out the camera rather than risk our intentions being misunderstood.
I read a beautiful, if not somewhat altruistic, article yesterday about “Photography For Photography’s Sake.” Photographer Eric Kim gives a very noble look at the real reason we are photographers: the love of taking pictures. It’s not the money (what money?), nor the chance at fame, nor even the chance to get free gear (if one is willing to play that game) that drives us, but rather the thrill that comes when we capture that perfect (for now) image that makes us feel good about our place in the world and our ability to document life on this planet, creating beauty, permanently capturing the temporal. Being a photographer is a wonderful profession even without the occasional perks.
Despite all the pat-on-the-back positivity, though, the same website carried an article about Greek tourists being harassed, one even having their phone taken, because their intentions were misunderstood by a group of overly-aggressive mothers. The tourists were taking pictures of a fountain, the kind that shoots up jets of water from a concrete surface. There are hundreds of them in the US, but this one happened to be in Southend, Essex. Like most every other similar fountain, children were playing in the water. The mothers mistakenly assumed that anyone taking pictures of the fountain must be paedophiles and confronted the shocked tourists. One of the mothers even posted on Facebook that she had “busted a paedophile ring.” In fact, she had done no such thing. She had merely ruined someone’s vacation. All three tourists were quickly cleared by police of any wrongdoing, but the stigma holds.
Misunderstanding about why we do what we do, the increasing lack of respect given to our profession, makes it extremely difficult at times to enjoy what we do. While we may want to take pictures simply for the love of taking pictures, there are too many times when we stop and have to second-guess whether the picture we might consider taking is worth the potential trouble it may cause. This current environment of distrust impedes our creativity and casts dispersions on our intentions despite the fact we’ve done nothing wrong.
In some cases, that lack of trust results in open hostility that makes being a photographer dangerous. One prominent presidential candidate has even gone so far as to corral photographers at his campaign rally, encouraging others to “beat them up,” and even laughing when one falls or gets hurt. While this example may seem extreme in the same sense that this candidate’s entire campaign is extreme, it is indicative of just how hostile the world has become toward people who carry cameras.
While I would very much like to ignore that hostility and walk around taking pictures of this and that all day long, I don’t. Not only is there the general suspicion with which we have to deal, there are alleged colleagues who would superimpose an unrealistic sense of perfection not only upon their work but everyone else’s. For them, no photograph is worthwhile so long as the slightest flaw exists. The eyes have to be in just the right position and the “catch” in a person’s eyes has to be in just the right place and there has to be the perfect number of hairs blowing across her face and they have to be the perfect length and if everything is not perfect then the photo is worthless. Sorry, I don’t consider that photography. What we capture is imperfect because life and the world is imperfect and the beauty of it all is found in the imperfections.
What few seem to realize is that every time a photographer is challenged about their work, despite whatever noble or seemingly righteous intentions on may have, we ultimately second guess why we are photographers in the first place. Are we photographers just because we love the act of taking pictures or are we photographers despite an aggressive society that fails to understand the artistry and beauty we find in everything.
The weather forecast for this afternoon is pleasant enough that I’ll likely let the kids play in the yard, and if I do then maybe, just maybe I’ll consider taking another photo of the birthday girl. Kat still won’t be home, such is the downside of being a responsible adult, but perhaps I’ll take the risk anyway. Both kids make great subjects and I know our immediate neighbors know I’m a photographer and won’t give our activities a second thought. I’ll still worry about those passing by. Will someone call the police or child protective services? Will someone stop and try to challenge what I’m doing? But maybe I’ll enjoy taking pictures just because, despite all the risk.
Maybe.
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