As a July 15 Deadline Looms, Photojournalists the World Over Are Channeling Their Inner Gene Smith…

American photojournalist W.Eugene Smith poses for portrait March 1, 1977 in New York City. (Photo by Arnold Newman/Getty Images)

In 2008, as they have every summer for 28 years, a committee of three judges will convene in a stifling conference room in Manhattan to plow through piles of photographs and proposals. When they emerge from behind closed doors, after four days of deliberation and two separate rounds of judging, the jury will have chosen the recipient of the W. Eugene Smith Memorial Fund’s annual grant.

At $30,000, the Smith grant, about to enter its third decade, is arguably photojournalism’s most consistenly prestigious, generous and longest-running award. It is dispensed to a single photographer attempting to complete a significant project conceived in the humanist tradition of renowned photo essayist W. Eugene Smith, who died in 1978. Among the grant’s first 15 recipients, recognized at pivotal, early stages of their careers: Jane Evelyn Atwood, Eugene Richards, Sebastiao Salgado, Gilles Peress, Donna Ferrato, Cristina Garcia Rodero and James Nachtwey.

This year’s deadline is only days away - July 15, 2008.

As you consider applying, please consider this series of questions:

-Why does W. Eugene Smith matter in this digital age?

-What is the relevance of his essay “Spanish Village” in the era of the video village?

-What is the relevance of Nurse Midwife in the age of WebMD?

I would argue that Smith’s commitment to documentary, humanistic photography speaks volumes to today’s young, brash, visually sophisticated (and over-stimulated) generation. Here was a man with a gargantuan appetitie for life and for new experiences. He had a compulsion for clutter and disarray and, at times, a tendency to let his finances slide. He was forever getting in fights with his editors, insisting that they were undermining his pure, single-minded vision. Indeed, Smith’s disdain for authority and outright contempt for authority figures, his unbending adhesion to principle, his commitment to righteous causes, and his explorations in myriad realms of modern culture (especially his passion for jazz) suggest that Smith, the journalist, the artist and the man, might as well have been a paradigm for the 21st century twenty or thirty something photographer.

Smith’s seminal 1972 study of a blighted Japanese village, “Minimata” documented how industry’s wastes had ravaged the land and the local population, killing hundreds and maiming many more. Like Rachel Carson’s “Silent Spring” before it “Minimata,” was the photographic medium’s first clarion call for ecological action. Had Smith shot only this one photo-essay, he would be conveying a message that is perhaps even more significant today: industrialization and rapid technological advances continue to manufacture “Minimatas” at an alarming rate, on a global scale. And photography - whether in digital or traditional format - remains an essential tool for stirring the world to witness and respond.

Both Smith, the photographer, and the Smith fund itself, thirty years after his death, remain beacons of compassion and commitment, reaffirming the power of the lone visionary in these turbulent times.

I encourage photographers everywhere to seriously consider applying this year. If you aren’t telling stories and opening eyes and waking people up, why are you in this business anyway?

—

David Friend, Vanity Fair’s editor of creative development and former director of photography of Life, is a member of the board of the W. Eugene Smith Memorial Fund. He is the author of Watching the World Change: The Stories Behind the Images of 9/11.

Getty Images employee Chris Scott in Peru

Chris Scott, a multimedia producer in the Getty Images London office, caught a plane today to Cusco, Peru where he will be mentoring at a Bridges to Understanding workshop.

Chris was one of four Getty Images employees that won an essay contest (open to employees only) with a grand prize of mentoring at a Bridges to Understanding workshop of their choice. The additional winners from the New York, Seattle and Sydney offices will be attending workshops in India, Guatemala and South Africa later this summer.

As a multimedia producer, Chris combines imagery with audio and footage to tell stories, share experiences and entertain. While in Peru, Chris will create a video diary of his workshop experience utilizing his multimedia talents. These videos will be hosted on the Getty Images blog so make sure you check back here to see what he has been up to.

Chris Jackson/Getty Images

It seemed a bit surreal on Friday morning to start my journey to the northernmost “town” on earth by getting on the number 19 bus with a throng of London commuters. After four long days at Ascot my weekend assignment was to photograph the three heirs to the Scandinavian thrones leaving for a polar research trip aboard an Arctic icebreaker. Prince Haakon of Norway, Princess Victoria of Sweden and Prince Frederik of Denmark were due to visit the islands, located some 1,000 kilometres from the North Pole, on Saturday and return from their trip six days later. I was able to combine the trip with some travel photography for the Editorial: Travel section on Getty Images (www.gettyimages.com/editorial/travel). Saturday was also going to be Midsummer – an important day in the Scandinavian social calendar.

Whenever I feel there may be some spectacular views from an aeroplane window I make sure I have a window seat near the back and keep my camera to hand. According to the pilot we were lucky enough to have some of the clearest weather he had seen for a long time. Sure enough there was not a cloud in the sky and the midnight sun reflecting off some of the peaks produced a couple of dramatic images of the Spitzenburg Mountains I was really pleased to capture. Arriving in Svalbard was a breathtaking experience; despite it being midnight, sunglasses were essential; the low-lying sun produced a beautifully soft, slightly pinkish light at half past twelve in the morning. After checking into my hotel I started work immediately, not knowing if the light would be there when I woke up tomorrow. Three hours later and after about six miles of trekking around I crashed out!

The next day was spent climbing the sides of hills to get the best views and trying to find something interesting to photograph, it seemed odd though that no one seemed to be around – it was like a ghost town! I literally didn’t see a person for an hour - not very helpful when trying to get some kind of human element to my photographs and capture an image that conveyed the ‘Midsummer celebrations’. I was told later that many people had partied for Midsummer the night before and there would be some pretty bad hangovers all round. After a full day of photography I trekked down to the SAS Hotel to photograph the Royals arriving. The low-key approach was emphasised by the blue Suzuki mini bus they climbed out of. Later, down by the icebreaker Oden I was amazed by the commitment and professionalism of the three young Royals who stood on the upper deck of the icebreaker for half an hour in the sub zero temperatures and icy winds in order to wave to the handful of photographers and journalists when they departed – a good example of how the European Royals differ to our own in their approach to the media.

NEW YORK - MAY 30: New York City Fire Department firefighters work on the scene of a crane collapse on Manhattan’s Upper East Side at 91st Street and 1st Avenue May 30, 2008 in New York. The crane collapsed on top of an apartment building crashing into a penthouse apartment and falling to the ground. (Photo by Anthony Behar/Getty Images)

My name is Anthony Behar, and I am a celebrity retoucher for Contour by Getty Images photo syndication brand. The one thing that bonds all of us together at work is the love of photography. Working at Getty Images has brought me into contact with amazing people and amazing photographers, a passion that is shared by many of my coworkers.

The post below is about my experience of finding myself in a situation that required quick thinking, quick action and taking the steps to bring newsworthy event to press, I’d like to share this with anyone who might find themselves in a similar situation.

You might have heard that on Friday, May 30, 2008 there was a terrible construction accident on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, where sadly two construction workers lost their lives when a crane collapsed onto the streets.

As a photographer in my own right (www.anthonybehar.com), when I heard the news that a crane had fallen over just a few blocks from my house, and I quickly grabbed my camera and ran to the scene of the accident.

NEW YORK - MAY 30: New York City Fire Department firefighters work on the scene of a crane collapse on Manhattan’s Upper East Side at 91st Street and 1st Avenue May 30, 2008 in New York. The crane collapsed on top of an apartment building crashing into a penthouse apartment and falling to the ground. (Photo by Anthony Behar/Getty Images)

Finding chaos in the street, I knew from past experience that I had to get up high for the first shot. I looked all around me and saw a few people looking down from their fire escapes. I yelled out to to one person politely asked if he would let me into the building, I kept yelling “press…press…press” as the noise from all the rescue workers arriving grew louder and louder. He paused and then poked his head back into his apartment, two seconds later he buzzed me in.

I bolted up three flights of stairs, went out onto his fire escape and shot off a few frames. I then quickly left his apartment and ran up to the roof where several other tenants had gathered, and I continued shooting.

I spent maybe another five minutes on the roof top, shooting the entire block, from left to right and then decided to leave to the building. When I got to the street the police had already set up barriers and I found myself on a deserted sidewalk with people corralled to the left and the right of me. I was essentially alone except for the police officers running back and forth, and one guy running towards me.

NEW YORK - MAY 30: New York City Fire Department firefighters work on the scene of a crane collapse on Manhattan’s Upper East Side at 91st Street and 1st Avenue May 30, 2008 in New York. The crane collapsed on top of an apartment building crashing into a penthouse apartment and falling to the ground. (Photo by Anthony Behar/Getty Images)

I had to make a quick decision to either stick around to get more shots, or outrun arriving photographers and beat them to upload. I saw one guy with the ubiquitous white Canon 70-200 zoom lens and I knew he was a pro and just starting to get shooting. After arguing with a cop about getting in closer with the other photographers, I was denied access since I don’t have an official press pass, so I hightailed it out of their and went back home. I knew I had at least a few good shots of the first moments of the disaster.

I edited the images on my computer, sent a few low resolution samples to news editors and got an offer within minutes, accepted and uploaded the high resolution files via FTP. Pierce Wright, senior news editor was instrumental in helping me sort everything out. He sent me the links I needed, walked me through the procedure and ultimately made it possible to get my photos onto the servers and out to the papers

I was very happy to see my photo on the front page of the New York Times website, and elated as more and more news agencies intermixed my photos with others that were shooting on the ground. In a way there a great sense of satisfaction in taking risks, thinking on your feet, getting the job done and seeing the results quickly appear online. On the flip side, I feel terrible that two people died, but if my work helps people become aware of these problems, and if new rules are put in place thanks to the excellent coverage by so many great photographers, then I understand the value of taking pictures and trying to make a difference.

It was a wonderful experience to go through the process, and now I have even more respect for people like Spencer Platt and Paula Bronstein just to name a few, who deal with the chaos of war, not just some screaming cop trying to do his job.

Brent Stirton for Reportage by Getty Images

We arrived with my husband Jean Pierre Laffont in Kenya in July, 2007.

It was our first safari. At the urging of some of our African friends, we wanted to experience the African wildlife and to watch the big animals, especially the lions and the elephants, in their natural habitat.

We had a fantastic time photographing those stunningly beautiful animals in their majestic landscape. It was love at first sight and we felt we had found paradise on earth.

So it was a great shock when, one morning, at a newsstand in Nairobi, we saw Newsweek magazine and its cover story “Slaughter in the Jungle” (August 6 2007) with the shocking photographs taken by Brent Stirton of the killing of the gorillas in the jungle of Congo.

In this extraordinary reportage, there is one unforgettable image: The hard hitting photograph of the 600 pounds silverback gorilla dead body carried by 20 men on a wooden stretcher. Murdered is this magnificent animal, king of the great ape, this pacific giant preoccupied only by the well being of his family, this peaceful vegetarian whose territory is taken away from him. This truly heart-breaking photo inevitably brings to mind the King Kong legend. We all have a deep emotional connection with King Kong, a symbol of strength and fierceness, killed by the cruelty of man.

We killed King Kong again but this time for real and we are distroying the paradise we have yet to discover and understand.

“Why?” We keep asking ourselves. “What men would do that?” And even these days, the rangers, the park officials and the conservationists are not sure.

The enemies are everywhere and the crimes are no longer committed only by small and organized-money-hungry groups. Poachers, hunters, bushmeat eaters, habitat destruction builders, merchants and contraband wildlife traffickers are now organized criminal gangs and armed militia men. Authorities suspect links between illegal trafficking and terrorism groups.

Violence, vandalism, human greed and cruelty are destroying innocence and beauty and the consequences are devastating, not just for our future but the future of our children as well.

It is too late now to undo what has been done to this family of gorillas in the jungle of Congo but it is not too late to expose the facts, alert public attention and help bring solutions. This is why Brent Stirton’s photos are so important. They show us the unbearable crime, bring in the spotlight the plight of animals and force us to pay attention to conservation issues.

Like Nick Ut’s photograph of the naked little girl running down the road in Vietnam had a decisive influence of the shift of public opinion toward the war in Vietnam, Brent Stirton’s photo of the dead gorilla being carried away from the wilderness of the jungle in Congo, is a warning cry we need to pay attention to and do something about, if we want to save us and the world we live in.

Eliane Laffont, March 10, 2008

BAGHDAD, IRAQ - MAY 09: Sgt. Kwame Williams of Aurora, Colo. of the 3-89 Cavalry in the 10th Mountain Division stands guard during a night patrol in the tense eastern suburbs of Baghdad in the early morning hours of May 9, 2008 in Baghdad, Iraq. Sgt. Williams is a member of a small scout squad that patrols under cover of darkness in advance of large teams of soldiers that work main thoroughfares at night, searching for roadside bombs and other insurgent activity. (Photo by Chris Hondros/Getty Images)

It’s dark, nearly pitch dark, and that’s the way the soldiers like it. They use no light on this midnight patrol; they stride down the sides of streets in the shadows. If they pass a glowing florescent tube, they disconnect it or break it. Their footfalls pad the sandy pavement in quiet crunches. Nothing else makes a sound.

I’m with a small squad of the 3-89 Cavalry in the 10th Mountain Division, three men roaming the empty alleys of a neighborhood in eastern Baghdad after the midnight curfew. They’re part of a larger operation, but no one has clearly explained to me exactly what we’re doing; I think these men are tasked with searching empty buildings and fields for weapons, while protecting the flank of other soldiers who are absorbed in mine-sweeping on an important main road. Staff Sgt. Dale Ogden is the squad leader. He’s not happy to have me tagging along at first, but warms up progressively as he discovers I’m not going to slow him down as he makes his way through the dark. He takes a knee briefly behind a low wall and we’re able for the first time to talk, our voices kept low.

BAGHDAD, IRAQ - MAY 09: Members of the 3-89 Cavalry in the 10th Mountain Division stand watch with night vision equipment in the tense eastern suburbs of Baghdad in the early morning hours of May 9, 2008 in Baghdad, Iraq. These members of a small scout squad patrols under cover of darkness in advance of large teams of soldiers that work main thoroughfares at night, searching for roadside bombs and other insurgent activity. (Photo by Chris Hondros/Getty Images)

“Kind of eerie out here,” I say.
“Not to me,” Ogden says. “I’d rather be out when it’s dark.”
“You would?”
“Oh yeah. We own the night,” he says, with whispered confidence.

BAGHDAD, IRAQ - MAY 09: Members of the 3-89 Cavalry in the 10th Mountain Division scope out unknown men in the distance with night vision equipment and lasers mounted on their rifles in the tense eastern suburbs of Baghdad in the early morning hours of May 9, 2008 in Baghdad, Iraq. Members of a small scout squad patrol under cover of darkness in advance of large teams of soldiers that work main thoroughfares at night, searching for roadside bombs and other insurgent activity. (Photo by Chris Hondros/Getty Images)

And they do: the soldiers peer through night-vison goggles attached to their helmets, which allows them to see even in complete darkness. And each of their weapons has laser sighting, projecting a beam invisible to the naked eye but deadly clear through the goggles, a small point of light they can place on any target up to half a mile away. Because of this US soldiers are most accurate with their weapons in the black of night.

An Iraqi man is walking down an isolated road in the distance, flouting curfew as he makes his way between two farm houses. The soldiers see him and cautiously raise their rifles and aim. I’m not wearing night-vision equipment but I know what’s happening; three ominous invisible laser points are marking his chest and head as he casually walks, completely oblivious to the fact there are US soldiers in the area and that he is a trigger-pull from sure death. A sudden move to grab a weapon on his part and he’d instantly be shot in half. But the man simply walks, and eventually disappears into the next house. The soldiers lower their rifles with relief, and continue the patrol.
Throughout the night they march on, from place to place in this jumbled neighborhood of houses and businesses. One house is empty. The next is a carpenters shop; they search around for weapons in a large bin. Another is a small school; the courtyard is brightly illuminated by overhanging streetlights. The soldiers climb through a window and find the fuse box, and shut off the main switch; suddenly it’s dark again. I click pictures without flash, using the highest light settings on my camera. Most I know won’t come out. Some will catch tiny stray beams of illumination and be usable.

BAGHDAD, IRAQ - MAY 09: Sgt. Shawn Hummel of the 3-89 Cavalry in the 10th Moutain Division reaches up to disable a light bulb during a night patrol in the tense eastern suburbs of Baghdad in the early morning hours of May 9, 2008 in Baghdad, Iraq. Sgt. Hummel is a member of a small scout squad that patrols under cover of darkness in advance of large teams of soldiers that work main thoroughfares at night, searching for roadside bombs and other insurgent activity. (Photo by Chris Hondros/Getty Images) 

“How can you take pictures out here, when there’s no light?” Ogden asks.
“It’s hard,” I tell him.

By four in the morning the first glimmer of day is glowing on the horizon. By four-thirty the dusky gloom seems radiantly bright. A distant mosque sounds the first call to prayer. Night patrol abruptly ends, and Ogden shepherds his men back to their base.