Why do you do it?
So yesterday it was announced that Marcus Bleasdale would be represented by the VII photo agency. When I was at the seminar a few weeks ago, Marcus was there as a presenter. He was part of a panel of 4 other photographers, titled “the new photojournalists.” Stephanie Sinclair, Boogie, Jessica Dimmock presented as well. It was probably my favorite part of the seminar. They all showed very powerful work, and spoke humbly and graciously about their pictures and their subjects. Marcus raised a question that he claims if you can answer, all the rest will fall in place.
“Why do you do it?”
It is a simple question. But, I would suspect that people’s answers are quite complex. I thought that I had figured out my answer out long ago. But, when I started to mull it over I realized I hadn’t. I did not have some singular motivation for telling stories and making pictures. There are a lot of easy, idealistic phrases that quickly came to my head. But, I think that’s too easy - or too difficult. In the last few days alone, I have had conversations with quite a number people that seem to be in the same boat.
“Why do you do it?”
If anybody is willing to share their thoughts…

it’s hard for me to not say ‘record of history’ — so much photography is for selling, a purpose i am minimally fond of –but the reality to me and photographs is the preservation of time. this parameter exercises ethics and aesthetics.
rob kerr
13 Nov 07 at 3:54 pm
i think i do it because i like to observe people…i like to watch and wait and then be rewarded with a frozen glimpse of humanity…sometimes i will just sit at the mall or the airport and search for interesting people to look at…it’s almost past photography now, it’s the need to have my visual appetite sated…oh, yeah, and i like the attention too
scott strazzante
13 Nov 07 at 9:07 pm
Simple question, but definitely hard to answer simply. Guess my take is similar to Scott’s. Aside from being something like a police officer, paramedic or the like, I can’t think of too many jobs that allow you access into so many different kinds of lives — and with as much trust going both ways, to boot. It’s quite the honor if you stop and think about it; the subject is basically saying, “Hey, I give you permission to hang around me being me, and then you can go tell others about me.”
G.J. McCarthy
13 Nov 07 at 9:58 pm
I have been meaning to get back to this post for days.
After us talking about it last week and then the question coming up with a new writer friend the following night, the question has been on my mind and putting it in words is a good exercise.
In general I’m fascinated with people, and the reality that we can all have such contrasted lives in such close proximity. Spending the time to understand and share the experiences of strangers is something I relish, and I think the people that allow me the opportunity to witness, experience and share their story make me a better person, and a better journalist.
There is certainly a passion for the simple act of making pictures deep in me. The feeling of raising the camera when I see something that strikes me; composing and playing with the contents of the frame, deciding what stays and what goes, what is important. Whether to get closer, or further away. Pushing the button. There is a great amount of exploration and indulgent pleasure in it for me.
There is a historical documentation importance aspect as well, for sure, with some topics more than others.
But as a visual journalist, I am compelled to do what I do, day after day for work, personal projects and in so many moments of my personal life, because on a fundamental level I feel that through capturing the best and worst moments of people’s lives in pictures, and sharing them, that as a culture and world we can somehow, in small ways - hopefully - understand one another better, and ultimately be more compassionate and supportive to one another.
T.Brown
25 Nov 07 at 2:19 pm
[…] I have asked the question, “Why do I do it?” in regards to my photography quite a bit lately. At first I wanted to say as evidence of my […]
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