Hello, Wall Street Journal

As a young news photographer, having your work published by a large publication is beyond awesome. Last week I was published by The Wall Street Journal. They were doing a piece on the National Soccer Hall of Fame closing and used two of my photos to illustrate the piece.


Not gonna lie, I was pretty excited for this. I allowed myself 10 minutes to freak out and do a couple fist pumps in the car before this happened...



and then I got back to work. But it's moments like this, the feeling of personal and professional achievement that makes this line of work addictive. The highs are really high and the lows can be very low (like crack, but safer).

Combines:

- moving

- kittens

- heat wave

- job interviews

- car woes

- saving

- a (welcome) sunburn

I’m sure if you could look inside my head right now, you would see something that resembled a Robert Rauschenberg painting.

ah, the messy dysfunctional gap between art and life

The Lovers, The Dreamers and Me

[ Photo by Brit Worgan ]

Tha Crossroads

(Photo by Painting512 - Flickr)

I'm wrestling with myself all the time

Growing up I knew I wanted to work in visual arts or a media related industry. At 16 I knew I wanted to pursue photography. But recently in a scared (soon to be jobless) turn of events I sadly started to question this. In this economy, do I have much of a choice? What with lay-offs, (free) "interns" taking (real paying) jobs, budget slashing, and the daunting fact that this market wont be cured anytime soon. I'm weighing my thoughts and I've narrowed it down to 2 options:

1) Play it safe. If you currently have a job, stay where you are. Sure, things might be really bad but it can only get a little worse before they stop slashing your paycheck. Sure, you're making less now than when you started 2.5 years ago with the company, but who knows, maybe in 5 years, they will give you that 1% raise you were promised all those years ago. At least you weathered the storm with shoes still on your feet. kudos you.

or

2) Be a rebel. Live like you got no tomorrow and go after what you really want (whatever that is). Yes, you're going to be broke and you're going to get cut down more often than not, but you're doing what everyone wishes they could be doing, LIVING. It will be terrible when you are in the thick of the shit storm, but you will learn to be resilient and emerge as a more interesting person. You will know how to consume less energy, eat better on less, and maybe even a how to play a game of gin rummy (while drinking bathtub gin!)

Life is all about the yin and the yang; the good and the bad. (and yeah, I kinda recently started watching LOST, whatever) But regardless of magic islands, good and bad does exist.

For instance, when I was 18 I dropped out of community college and was living out of my car. At night while I was falling asleep in the back seat of my '95 dodge neon, I closed my eyes and pictured myself working at a newspaper, being a photographer, and sharing stories and historic moments through images with thousands of people daily. That was my dream.

Almost 3 years later, with an Associated Press award, a New York State Newspapers Publishers award and a more polished portfolio; I'm ready for my next challenge. New York...?

Lets do this thing

Au Revoir Thooo

French things:

My girlfriend and I flew AirFrance (which is the BEST airline I've ever flown with, can you say party plane?) to visit our friend Holly who is studying abroad for the year. Her little baby sized apartment (no really.. it was the size of a handy cap bathroom stall, if that) housed all 5 of us where there was no room for shyness. On any given morning, someone would be bathing in the basin tub while others were preparing a fresh breakfast and nursing a their hangovers. We explored the city of Paris on foot and did a lot of site seeing, went to a Persian gay dance club (which had their cira '92 MTV party to go vol. 2 CD on repeat) and got a taste of local living thanks to Holly. We went to the markets, haggled for fresh vegetables and ate a lot of smelly delicious cheeses. Naturally, I documented this in more than 2,000 photographs from start to finish. I couldn't actually post all of them, so I made a movie instead.

Here it is... enjoy!

Paris, France trip 2010 from brit worgan on Vimeo.

PARIS MADDNESS

and it's happening. right. now.

more pictures to come

Wedding Season Ahoy!

[Photo by Brit Worgan]

This year, I'm going to make a push to do more weddings. After a lousy breakup I decided to take a hiatus from shooting weddings. But now I'm back in business and more prepared than ever; I'm real excited to get back in the game.

There is a lot of pressure on a wedding photographer to make magic happen in a split second. And the post processing work can be an enormous work load. The photographer is locked in their studio for a solid several days/weeks/months, only to emerge for cigarette breaks and coffee refills.

But It's not all bad, in fact... it's sort of addicting.

When I first meet with a client I give them a price list which is anywhere from $1,500-$5,000 depending on what kind of package they are looking for. I show them my portfolio and explain to them my style of shooting. As a photojournalist, my style is documentary. I don't take wedding photos that are cheesy and forced. Sure, we will do the traditional posed pictures and whatever else the bride and groom want, but with a professional and creative spin you can really set yourself apart from other wedding photographers.

Having worked as a second shooter for Vanity Fair and Vogue wedding photographers, I learned the difference between a good photograph vs. a breathtaking photograph.

But of course, that doesn't mean you are always what the client is looking for. Some people appreciate traditional and safe photography. They are not interested in magazine style wedding photos and cannot work it within their budget. There is never anything wrong with that. It's better to meet with someone who knows what they want vs. someone who isn't sure and can't pay their bill.

There are many different types of wedding photographers out there, and they come in all different shapes and prices. Like with anything else, you get what you pay for. But remember, this isn't just a business transaction, it's two people so madly in love with one another they are crazy enough to the the knot. Give em' something to write home about !

[Photo by Brit Worgan]

We got no food, we got no jobs, OUR PETS' HEADS ARE FALLING OFF

Yesterday the newsroom was buzzing about an upturn in this crap economy; even though last week we were handed out our fourth week of furloughs (and no raises…again).

I may be making less money now than when I started working for the paper 3-years ago, but staying positive is all we can do to stay sane. Otherwise, we would all be in the crazy den.

Those who lost their photo department jobs at BusinessWeek today, may positive thoughts be with you.

School Picture Day!

I can remember the fall season of every school year at Clarksville Elementary like it was yesterday. Standing in the gross vomit colored cafeteria, wearing some ridiculously heinous floral outfit my mother picked out for me that I had fought her on the morning of, and subsequently missing my bus.

[Photo by Elsa Dorfman - Self portrait]

A stay-at-home mom would come in to collect the checks and groom everyones hair with a plastic disposable comb, getting just the right kind of static electric look for that yearly portrait of awkward beginnings.

The photographer would then call your last name and you were ushered onto the stage. While your classmates watched, you would fake a smile at the unfunny Lifetouch photographer who treated you like a pedophiliac would treat their prey. After the temporary blindness wore off, you were sent back to class and had to wait a whole more year to do it all again.

Little did you know these pictures would be milestones frozen in time and the butt of your friend's jokes.

Years later, I worked as one of these photographers (not the pedophiliac kind). Our boss was an alright guy, tho he made it a point to remind the photographers of his unmatched accomplishments in the world of senior portraits ...

In the communal work room, he proudly displayed his finest work titled "Serenity" which was just a photo of ducks swimming. Regardless, he was a swell dude who treated the photogs with respect, knowing we were just looking to get some off hours use of the studio space.

In my little doge neon I would drive hours upon hours to schools and sports games with a backdrop pole cutting into my face every time I made a left hand turn. While making LESS than minimum wage, you also had to front your own gear (never do this) to be "published" in some random school yearbook.

So it was no secret - everyone hated being there

But we all had our reasons for sticking around

I for one learned how to take a mean portrait, and made a solid friend out of the deal. Also, it gave me the opportunity to shoot sports for my portfolio and take prom photos in the lobby of a HUD housing site. Neat!

I can't imagine not having the fond memories of portrait lighting diagrams, posing, figuring out how to shoot sports at 3fps (my gear really sucked), retouching, photo orders, and learning the virtue of patients.

Sadie, over at Jezebel.com writes:

According to a heartbreaking and alarming piece in The NY Times "Styles" section, the itinerant school photographer is a dying breed. Quoth the Gray Lady,

"About 5 to 10 years ago, class photos and individual student portraits were reflexive purchases for parents. Those 4-by-6 and 8-by-10 prints were the visual equivalents of the notches made on door frames to show how much Junior had grown since last year. Now, more parents are snapping their own digital pictures and declining the products of the pros. It's a situation akin to the disappearance of the formal engagement and wedding portraits, courtesy of Bachrach, that were once a staple of newspaper society pages. And, I'd argue, the world will be the poorer for it. Because the you your parents snap - relaxed, happy, candid - is a very different one from that immortalized in gaudy 8 x 10."

Where would us photographers be had we not gone through the grueling process of working (and leaving) that damn photo studio years ago? I can only hope future photographers beginning from the ground up have this left as an option to get a foot in the door and to discover their own "Serenity".

Needle In the Veins

[ Photo by Brit Worgan - Light in the Gutter ]

Male photographers are credited as the fathers of the medium, but let it be known, women photographers have been around just as long as the process, pre-1900s. Since the medium of photography was introduced in 1839, women have been creating images.

In eighteenth-century Europe, the academies were open to male artists (painters) to train and exhibit their work. But as a blatant denial to women, photography emerged as a form of artistic expression beyond still-life and portraiture. In the nineteenth-century photography became a socially acceptable profession for women, and respected as both bold and remarkable.

Regardless of gender, each photographer brings their own personality to their work. Does an image differ based on the gender of the photographer? After all, don't men and women view the world in different ways? Not necessarily. But personalities can (and will) shape the approach to a documentary.

This past year I started working on my first professional self-funded photo documentary which follows the lives of female strippers working at a rural small town go-go club.

When I first started work on this project I had to set myself up with a game plan; a mission statement. After thoughtful consideration of the lives and subject matter I was going to be documenting, I knew I had a duty to these women to approach this project in a sensitive and unique way. I wanted their stories to rise from the images. I did not want to take on an overly sexual - underlying negative perspective, or the opposite.

For this project to grow legs it had to be open, truthful, and nonjudgmental. With a few serious setbacks along the way, there is still a lot of work to be done. I'm really proud to be behind this project and I'm looking forward to its future. I will be posting updates as this project continues to evolve.

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

[ Photos by Jessica Dimmock - The Ninth Floor]

Documentary photojournalist Jessica Dimmock is someone worth watching. Her work, The Ninth Floor, takes a serious and respectful look inside the lives of heroin addicts unlike ever before.

Propositioned by a drug dealer on the streets of New York, she was invited to tag along and take photos of his trade. As his clients and personal addiction started to unravel before her, Dimmock embarked on a powerful documentary piece.

Dimmock's situational photographs of the intimate and surreal will haunt your mind for days.

Uglified

[Photo from Connors934 on Flickr]

In less than a month I'm going to be in PARIS! Traveling with my gear is always a little nerve racking, and makes security check points a blast.....

Most importantly (all) the gear that's traveling with me.... needs to comes back with me.

Someone at Make had a similar conundrum and made their own theft proof device... check it out

This is ourselves, Under pressure

If you work in the publishing industry, you know

Nothing comes easy.

Everything needs to be your best product; every time. No excuses; your readers don’t want excuses. They want perfect, and they should expect nothing less. No pressure guy.

I feed off of this, as do many who work in editorial or any deadline driven industry. It’s something we can all agree on. There is no such thing as an excuse inside a newsroom, nor should there be.

Example:

If state police block off roadways, preventing you from getting a shot of the fatal car crash that is your page 1 story tomorrow … you better park your car at a gas station, pack up your gear, walk the 2.6 miles uphill through a foot of snow, and get at least 3 different angles before you go back to that newsroom.

Sometimes I wonder to myself, what is worse: the villainous 2.6 mile uphill snow journey or the grizzly despondence in my editor’s eyes if I was to come back with nothing.

the latter always wins.

A medical professional (or, your mom) would tell you it probably isn’t all that healthy to be held to such high expectations every day; you’re bound to fail someone. But it’s something I have learned to live with and it’s good to keep your ego in check. Being a photographer under these pressures makes me a stronger, more courageous, kinder, harder, driven, sassy, calm, appreciative, 23-year-old. And doggone it, people like me.

What do photographers love more than cinematography?

TALKING about cinematography.

Seriously, we get hard-ons for it.

My girlfriend Lindsey and I saw La passion de Jeanne d'Arc for her french film studies class. It's a silent film made in 1928, which in English translates to "The Passion of Joan of Arc". Throughout the years, the feminist pioneer's story has been written in hundreds of books and seen on the silver screen, depicted in many ways.

The cinematography was incredible. The simple lighting, set design, strong use of "the-rule-of-thirds", simple pans, and creative angles had me wide-eyed and note taking.

silent films are kinda awesome, who knew?!

WWKHD?

As a photographer, artist, journalist, queer, female, activist, faced with difficult situations, I ask myself "What would Kathleen Hanna Do?"

The great Jessica Valenti shared with me this interview she recently found on GRITtv with Kathleen Hanna

For those of you who don't know, Kathleen Hanna is: a musician, feminist, activist, three dimensional role model, zine writer, and my personal heroine

While studying photography she worked as a stripper in Olympia, Washington to make ends meet. Her work focused mainly on documenting underground feminism, sexism, and the stark realities of those dying of AIDS. In partnership with a fellow student, the exhibit shed light on what was happening to men, women, and respective queer community members in the late 80's. Before the work could be shown, the schools administration censored the exhibit

.... WWKHD?

Maybe... start her own photo gallery, front several punk-dance-feminist-activist bands, become a significant partner of the third-wave?

Of course! of course.

"Sniffin' Glue"

While I'd wait for my ex-girlfriends band to start their set, I'd sometimes sit in the back of the bands tour van and read the zines she had collected while on tour.

A punk zine is a subculture in and of itself. The underground free press operation of punk music also included punk literature, DIY living, and politically-charged, radical ideology. Written, designed, and pressed by you, me, and some library's photocopier.

I still get pumped, just like I did when I was 16 picking up an issue off of a merch table at a show, to I find a back issue of something when shifting through the freegan market's 'Really Really Free Market' in greenwich village. There's just something about the weathered edges, the off-center typography, that makes it unique and common.

This new video put out by Wired magazine showcases their new slick design template for a digital product. The verdict is still out on several things, such as, how will this translate visually onto a smart phone and how much will this cost?

I'm sure Chris Anderson and Steve Jobs are riding their respective segways' right now to an undisclosed location to geek it out work out those details.

But somethings are meant to be left untouched and kept simple, because sometimes that's just better.

Living for a Living

A fellow photographer once asked me

"What are you first, an artist or a journalist?"

"I'm an artist"

"WRONG" she said

Excuse me?? No, no. No no no.

Before I stumbled upon journalism I was an 11-year-old girl, creating a photo essay of my parents footwear choices; stealing the family video camera to write, direct, produce ( and star! ) in my very own TV commercials. I have always been creating art, and was well aware that I was way better at it than, say, quantum physics. So I stuck with it, and got better at it; it became apart of my person.

Now, as a 23-year-old professional, I can see how (and why) someone would loose sight of who they were before they started their career. Turning something you love into a profession can be tricky, and most artists will have to figure it out; cause starving is only a 3-week option.

What sets you apart from every other photographer/artist/writer/musician/quantum physicist is the creative mind. Your creative mind.

Loosing sight of yourself is like drawing a target on your back while waiting to be replaced by a machine.

And that, is a recipe for disaster.

My Snowpocalypse Concussion Story

Monday, I was at work covering an assignment when I slipped on ice and hit my head. Don't be alarmed, this happens a lot. As a photojournalist, you are walking places and doing things that normal people wouldn't normally do given the conditions; and mind you, this is upstate New York.

I take the necessary precautions by dressing for the weather, including my doc martins, and my hot-pink thermals. But no matter how prepared you are for the day, you never know when a thick patch of ice is waiting to meet the back of your head.

After I had fallen, in front of my subject no less, I quickly brushed myself off and came to my senses. I finished my assignment and quickly (and embarrassingly) hurried to my car. As I was driving back to the newsroom I started to get dizzy and felt a little.... strange. drunk strange. When I was talking with my managing editor I could tell I was slurring my words. I wouldn't normally tell them that I had fallen, because that is a lot of paperwork for all of us to deal with, but this fall was obviously different. After having spoken to our HR department and filled out the paperwork, I was on my way to urgent care where they concluded I had two different sized pupils and suffered from a severe concussion. They then sent me to the ER to wait for a cat-scan. As I was laying in my hospital bed drifting in and out of sleep, I awoke to my editor sitting at my bedside. I thought

"This isn't happening. Did I wreck my camera rig? Is he here to fire me?"

and then I thought of:

and it got weird.

What editor comes and visits their photographer in a hospital room while on a deadline? The best kind, thats who. Seriously, I'll be lucky to find another editor as gracious and as kind as Sam in my future.

It's been 4 days, and a case of whiplash later. I realize now that fall was a lot worse than I had originally thought. But I'm taking it easy, as to not really screw myself up the next time I fall on ice (and I will).

I've played, like, 72 games of tetris... Can I go back to work now?

Lite Brite

What's the difference between a amateur photo and a professional photo?

Light.

Truth be told, I'm a tiny lady.

I stand a little over 5 feet tall and weight 105 lbs. which means packing light is necessary (have you ever tried running with 50+lbs. of equipment hanging off of you? - military members, don't answer that).

When I go on assignment I pack 3 lens, 1 extender, 1 body, 1 flash, and 2 pocket wizards. My lenses give me a range of 14mm-800mm (with extender) and of course, without a camera body there wouldn't be a photo at the end of the day. But my most important (and least heaviest) part to my pack is my flash, PW's, and a super clamp.

Because I am the night photographer, I shoot a lot of sports for the paper. I like to mix it up a bit, for myself and our readers, by adding different light techniques when covering, say, a basketball game.

Many photographers will tell you that you will need at least two flashes (if not more) to evenly light a full gym. I beg to differ. When on an assignment, I need to get in and out of a game with enough useable shots as possible, before I'm called off to another assignment and with enough time to process and caption all my images.

I like to stick to one end of the court, the side the team I am covering is shooting towards. I set up my flash behind the hoop, just a little above head level of the players and off to the side, as to create a few shadows. I don't waste my time with light stands, even though they are always in my car just in case. Instead I use a super clamp. Also, if you are having a hard time finding a position above the basket, usually there are bleachers with railings set up that can give you that off the center position even though it's not under the basket. (you will want to shoot on the same side as your flash.)

So if you're concerned that you're not packing enough light, don't fret! Only you know what works for you (and your pocket).

Results:

Growing up photojournalist

Like most teenagers in high school I became fixated on finding my place in the world. I took to playing sports, but I lacked the aggression. I became a book worm, but have terrible reading comprehension. I even tried cooking, but I'm just not that kind of girl.

I felt useless. What on earth was I put here for? Definitely not to cook.

As the years went on, I got into punk music, feminism, started dying my hair ( awesome... ) colors, and picked up the camera my dad gave to me as a graduation present. I started with a lot of excitement, until I realized how difficult and smelly the job of a photographer was. Who the hell wants to stand in a poorly ventilated room that smells like rotting eggs, and OH NO! I spilled fixer on my favorite sleater-kinney hoodie, dammit.

So I brought my camera to everything... everything. I started taking photos for my friends bands, documenting my mothers cancer treatments, my first relationship, my changing life; whatever I felt excited, nervous or scared of, I photographed it. I got into experimental lighting, wide angle lens, and tried to emulate the photography style I saw everyday in our newspaper.

Then I landed a photo internship with said newspaper. I wanted to learn everything I could from these photographers - whose work I had followed religiously everyday in the paper. I became a sponge. I listened. I hardly ever spoke. These were the masters, the award winning, professional photojournalists who allowed me to refill the printer paper tray and recharge their flash batteries. I even got to shoot certain assignments, and received photo critiques from these pros. I was in all my glory. The amount of knowledge I walked away with from that internship was more than anything I could've asked for.

After that, I became a freelancer for as many places in the area that would hire me. I sacrificed relationships, I worked hard, I was a photographer.

2 years later I landed my first staff photo job at a small daily newspaper in central NY where I have worked for 3 years, recently winning my first Associated Press award. Now I am looking to take the next step in my career and move forward with self-training (and self-funded) multimedia work, going back to school or continue sharking jobs.

Documentary work is far from glamourous, and hardly pays the bills, but at the end of the day, I love my job. I know too many photographers who have lost their passion for photography and forgot why they got into this business in the first place.

The industry has changed, newspapers are closing, and staffers are being cut. Guessing what a job description will read for a staff photojournalist 40 years from now is just as exciting as it is pointless. Who knows, maybe we'll be taking photos with laser beams attached to our retinas, that will then FTP them to our newsrooms stationed on the twelfth planet in our solar system. or maybe not. I don't know. But regardless, I better be ahead of that curve.

Here is the journey from the start of my career as a professional photojournalist and onward. For your sake, lets hope I don't end up as a cook.