Picture by Amanda Edwards/Getty Images for Hatchfest

First of all, Montana — who knew? “How do you feel about flying up to Bozeman in October?” my editor asked. “Ummm, where’s that?” I am pretty sure was my answer. It wasn’t until I actually landed and was greeted by a trio of impossibly friendly HATCHfest volunteers that the stereotypes started to subside. Yes, there was that taxidermy-ed Grizzly Bear by the baggage claim but the minute I was handed a schedule of events I knew I was in for a real treat.

Bozeman is quite possibly like no other place I have ever visited. Home to Montana State University and countless Hollywood escapees, the city has a thriving arts scene. With its Emerson Cultural Center, Ellen Theatre and Thirsty Ear Hi Fi all within walking distance along or near Main Street, downtown Bozeman is nothing short of a feast for the senses.

Picture by Amanda Edwards/Getty Images for Hatchfest

HATCHfest has been linked with Getty Images since its inception 4 years ago. This year marked my second HATCH and my job was to document the various discussion panels and participate in the photography section of the CNBC journalism lab. What this essentially entailed was acting as a mentor for journalism/photography students from MSU and Bozeman High School. The students were given a brief to capture the essence of HATCH either with a single portrait of one of the visiting Groundbreakers or with a behind- the-scenes, reportage-style photo essay. As in the proverbial real world, a deadline was set and the students were eventually subjected to what I hope was constructive criticism.

Picture by Amanda Edwards/Getty Images for Hatchfest

Picture by Amanda Edwards/Getty Images for Hatchfest

What sets the HATCH experience apart from the reality of my world as a professional photographer is just how genuinely friendly and approachable everyone is. While I am blessed to work with an outstanding team at the Getty Images Los Angeles office, I still can’t help but get caught up in the magic that is HATCH. The festival has an integrity that I have personally never experienced before. Most notably, there is none of the pretense I associate with larger arts festivals. Students are actually encouraged to contact their mentors and ask for any advice they might need. In turn, the mentors are just as prepared to drop everything and meet with their students. Perhaps I’ve grown a bit jaded, but I just can’t see that happening at other festivals where gift lounges abound and schmoozing reigns supreme.

But don’t let the lack of hype fool you. HATCH puts on an amazing party. The difference is that HATCH does it completely with heart. And quite a few bottles of Stella…!

From February 2007 through July 2007 I worked with CNN’s Planet in Peril crew running around the globe to survey the state of Earth’s health. We experienced just about every possible climate, every weather condition. I enjoyed the pleasure of a parasite’s company for close to three months after our shoot in Brazil. One of the cameramen was bitten by a spider and had to have his knee lanced to relieve the swelling. Working with Anderson Cooper, Jeff Corwin and Sanjay Gupta we flew, drove, boated, and walked thousands of miles on almost every continent. We slept on more than our fair share of concrete floors. And no, hammocks are not conducive to a good nights sleep. Occasionally our meals of Pringles and Powerbars were punctuated by buffets. Exhaustion and elation create an interesting combination. By the end we were tanked. But we knew it was worth it. Here are some pictures from the journey:

Phnom Penh, Cambodia – March 2007
Releasing birds

Cambodia is a fascinating place. The specter of the Khmer Rouge regime hangs over the country. It’s a predominantly young population. Exceedingly poor. On the streets vendors release a handful of birds for a handful of coins. People walk up, make a prayer and the birds fly free. Environmental activists are doing their best to stop illegal poaching and wildlife trading, but they have their work cut out for them.

Kaktovik, Alaska, USA – April 2007
Polar Bear

He’s not dead. Just sleeping. Sawing logs in the article circle— white on white. We were working with scientists from United States Geological Survey (USGS) doing aerial and on the ground studies of the polar bear population outside of Kaktovik, Alaska, USA. Had to be one of the most remote “towns” I’ve ever seen— at least in the States. Seriously out in the middle of nowhere— cold as all get out— harsh place. But you wouldn’t suspect it from the sleeping bear— conked out on a tranquilizer cocktail— dreaming of a seal buffet. I wanted to shoot something graphic, something clean— and believe me— that far north in Alaska, there are few things to clutter a frame. The white is endless. In 360 degrees it’s endless. Polar bears are not currently on the endangered species list, but there’s a growing movement to put them on preemptively. Protection rather than reaction. That’s the issue we were looking at, and that’s why this one is sleeping. Kicking out a few ZZZZZ’s so USGS can safely gather the data it needs to measure the health of the population. He’ll wake up about an hour later. But by that time we’re on our way— helicopter blades warming up, in search of another bear.

Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming, USA – July 2007
Tree and sky

A tree trunk leans over the mid-morning sky’s reflection in a small lake. I’m drawn towards abstractions— and the contrast of the jagged branches against gossamer clouds.

Lake Chad, Chad – June 2007
Donkeys

Ribs. The ribs were the first thing that jumped out at me when we stopped the convoy of Land Cruisers at this watering hole. If the health of livestock is any indication the overall health of the people who tend to them, then I knew this was a bad sign. I don’t think anyone has ever described a donkey as a charismatic animal, but these animals were so emaciated they stumbled about purely on the strength of their skeletal systems. All muscle and fat long ago left their bodies.

Lake Chad, Chad – June 2007
Fabric in front of well

With heat easily cresting 115 degrees Fahrenheit, water is an absolute necessity in central Africa. And with Lake Chad seemingly shrinking, an already scare resource is becoming all the more vital. There is water in Africa, but so much of it is dirty, polluted by chemicals or livestock, or other people. Filling up their jerry cans women from a local village gathered around a single spigot, their water lifeline.

Lake Chad, Chad – June 2007
Fish

This one really is dead. A fish washed up on the banks of Lake Chad. We’ve heard the lake is shrinking, fish populations dwindling, and overall size of the remaining fish diminishing. This guy was about the size of my palm. Dead for who knows how long. The water startled the flies every time the waves lapped at the fish’s decaying body. While there are many dead fish in many lakes in many parts of the world, I felt like this one hinted at the relative health of Lake Chad, and the direction it’s heading.

Bangkok, Thailand – March 2007
Woman in boat

The floating market outside of Bangkok, early morning, weird light, weird shadows. There are bridges that pass over the water as vendors paddle up and down hawking produce. It’s pretty touristy. That’s probably the main reason it still exists. But I showed up early and wanted to look for colorful photos as a backdrop to Thai culture. The mangoes looked fantastic— they’re great in Asia. I like the odd, dark shapes angled down the middle of the frame. It’s shadows dancing on the rippling water. It’s motion frozen at 1/125 of a second; the pause button hit on a liquid tango.

Kraho Village, Brazil – February 2007
Kraho boy

The thupp-thupp sound of the helicopter brought the whole village out from their mud huts as we landed in a grass field in the Kraho village on the outskirts of the Amazon. We spent two days there, overnight in sleeping bags on a concrete floor under a straw roof. When it wasn’t drizzling, it was full on raining. We had a bit of sun, but even when it disappeared it was still warm. Most of the Kraho, men and women, wore little more than shorts. And they gathered around us as we gathered footage. After we had been in the village for a couple hours, the village chief decided we all needed to be inducted into the tribe. That meant receiving tribal names and markings on our arms with a blue dye. For some reason, not one of us in the whole crew thought to ask how long it would take for the dye to wash off. And so began the next two weeks of weird looks after we left the Kraho village and went back into the Brazilian cities— I’m sure we were mistaken for a motley band of rabid sports fans or something, blue rings and lines up and down our arms. As the Kraho gave us the tribal markings, they also gave us tribal names. Mine was “dead fish”, which I thought was a joke until our translator admonished me not to laugh. Hmm. I’m still hoping that’s not a reflection of my personality. At least I avoided the “White Pig” moniker applied to another member of the crew. Bullet dodged…sort of.

Harry Cabluck/AP via Getty Images

Seen in this handout photo, photographer Eddie Adams poses at the Republican (GOP) National Convention August, 1992 in Houston, Texas.

Filmmakers have their Cannes; policy wonks have Davos; opera buffs have Beureuth. American photojournalists have the Eddie Adams farmhouse, a simple dark wood shelter situated at the top of a verdant hill in tiny Jeffersonville, New York. It’s the site of “the Workshop“; more fully, it’s The Eddie Adams Workshop, a yearly retreat for the nation’s top photojournalists and students, started by the celebrated photographer twenty years ago. The 100 students who pass the competitive portfolio cut are split into ten teams of ten, and each team produces a visual essay in the course of four intense, sleepless days of shooting, editing and instruction. Pancho Bernasconi, Getty Images‘ managing editor for news and I were asked to lead one of these teams, along with Leah Latella, a young and talented editor at Newsweek magazine.

I was a student there myself, a long time ago, in the first few years of the workshop’s existence. I saw in the students’ faces now much of what I remembered from my own experiences: shyness, exuberance, amazement, and a good bit of fear. I chose to have my group illustrate the “Seven Ages of Man” speech from Shakespeare’s As You Like It–perhaps an esoteric choice, but Pancho was good enough to accept it without hesitation when I suggested it at a pre-workshop meeting.

Our students pursued the topic with gusto, ambling around through the rural byways, finding subjects that explore the concepts Shakespeare outlines in the soliloquy: infancy, childhood, careerhood, retirement, death. One of the seven ages is soldier, and as befits our times our students photographed several. One was a young man just back from Iraq, living his daily life now with a telling sense of isolation. Another was a “soldier of God,” a woman in a Christian biker group. Yet another was only present in memory: Pfc. Anthony Kaiser, born and raised in the next town over from Jeffersonville, who fell in combat in Anbar province just six months ago. Pancho and I sent student Brian Sokol and multimedia producer Bob Sasha out to visit the family, and together they produced a sublime piece of work, a narrative intercutting Anthony’s father recounting how his son was killed in action with the young man’s widow reminiscing about his life and personality. It’s an elegant three minutes that reminds us all anew about the enormous human consequences of our current wars.

Monday night, after the end of the workshop, after the presentations and awards, the students and faculty let loose in a big party in nearby hotel. There was much hugging and high-fiving among our group, lots of giddy exhaustion and justifiable pride. The whole experience was a privilege: not only to be able to meet a talented crop of young photographers, but also as a reminder of the precious window we as photographers are afforded into people’s most personal lives. It’s a lesson I learn and relearn, and one that never really loses its power, every time I’m reminded of it.