For the first time in many, many years, when the Minnesota pheasant season opened at 9 a.m., Saturday, I had a camera rather than a shotgun in my hand.
I decided that Madelia's first annual Pheasant Phest was a big enough deal that I ought to take that in instead of traveling to my customary opening day spots with my usual hunting buddies. Duty called, as it were.
Of course, I could have been carrying a shotgun in addition to the Nikon. Early on, I was invited to hunt with the contingent of Madelia area hunters who were celebrating the opening of the season.
But I learned long ago that when one divides his attention between making photographs and another activity, in this case, hunting, neither ends up being done very well.
So I just committed to carrying a camera in the field as I trailed the group of hunters and dogs, enjoying the camaraderie that is part of such an event.
Of course, as it turned out, two of the three roosters the party bagged got up at my feet. I missed 'em with my camera but others in the hunting party managed to drop the birds with their shotguns.
Now I'm sure there those folks out there, particularly after watching Vikings Twins games, who believe that being a photographer at various events must be a great thing because, after all, photographers frequently have what appears to be the best seat in the house...and for free, no less.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Sidelines are not the best place to watch a game. That's why football teams always have coaches stationed high above the field to relay to the sidelines what's really going on.
What's more, court side or the sidelines aren't the place to be if you are an ardent fan. It's considered bad form (even to the extent that officials will ask offending parties to leave) if someone in the press ranks is openly rooting for one team or the other.
Dispassionate detachment is the expected sideline decorum in the working press corp. And work it is, as we compete informally with all of the other image makers who are shooting photographs, as well. There's a reason it's called work and that we get paid to do it.
It turned out that there was really nothing remarkable to shoot photographs of at the pheasant opener. What's more, by all accounts, the bird shooting was sparse enough within my circle of hunting buddies that I really didn't feel like I missed too much. Just way too much corn out there, yet.
But on late Saturday afternoon, after I'd written the story for the Sunday edition and edited the photographs, I finally managed to get out for the last hour of daylight to give my spaniel a chance to stretch his legs.
We hunted a public area that undoubtedly had been pounded by hunters earlier in the day. Our efforts were rewarded with a brace of roosters that we intercepted as they headed from the corn back into their roosting areas.

John Cross photo exhibit this weekend

Sweet Taste of Summer by John Cross.
If you're looking for something cool to do this weekend, my colleague John Cross has an exhibit opening tonight at the Blue Earth County Historical Society on Cherry St. called "Faces and Places of South Central Minnesota." You should really check it out. He has some great work from his 34 years of photographing this area.

While the exhibit is up through October, there is an opening reception tonight from 6-8 p.m. at the Heritage Center and a meet and greet with John from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday. I got a look at the exhibit catalog yesterday. It's all beautifully matted and framed, courtesy of Brian Fowler at the Artisan Gallery (part of Quality 1 Hr. Photo), and it's all for sale!

Check it out. It's worth your time. Maybe I'll see you there.

Canons and Nikons: The Debate

I'm frequently asked by people purchasing their first serious SLR digital camera: Nikon or Canon?
It's a little bit like asking someone if he or she prefers a Ford or a Chevy. Personally, I use Nikons and except for my very first camera _ an East German-built Hanimex Pracktica for which I ponied up the then-princely sum of $100 in 1968 _ I've always used Nikons.
One reason was that back in the 1960s when I embarked on this career, Nikons arguably were king of the professional shooting hill with Canons coming in a serviceable but distant 2nd.
For another, my hometown paper's publisher somehow had wrangled a coveted Nikon dealership out from the U.S. distributor of Nikon products in the early 60s when the brand was just becoming recognized as top-flight pro gear.
Since I worked part-time at the paper, I could buy Nikon gear for cost, which was significantly less than what it sold for at retail prices.
And forty years ago, as a senior in High School, that's exactly what I did. After saving and scrimping, I ordered a Nikon F body (in professional black, naturally). It retailed for $225 and ended up costing me $152.
I've still got it (along with several other film Nikons of various vintage that I hung onto a little too long into the digital age and now are worth so little I use them as bookends). In spite of its dings and dents, the old F still remains silky smooth, functional, and nearly bulletproof.
But back to the Canon-Nikon debate. Each brand has had its positives and negatives in recent years and really, both are excellent cameras.
I still use Nikons for a couple of reasons. One is that the Free Press always has been Nikon-based and the specialized, really expensive lenses it owns/owned have been Nikon
For another, Nikon lenses focus exactly in the opposite direction that Canon lenses do. Auto focus is great but frequently, I prefer manual focusing. After so many years it just comes naturally.
Trying to focus a Canon lens is for me a little like getting into a car and discovering the gas and brake controls have been reversed.
Bottom line? They're both good cameras. Compare a $1000 Nikon digital camera and a $1000 Canon digital camera and you'll discover they usually have similar capabilities and features.
Buy either one and you'll soon find out that as just as quickly, a newer improved version inevitably will be introduced making you wish you had waited.
And unlike my old Nikon F which wears its patina of hard use well, nothing ages less gracefully than a digital camera.

CJR Q&A with Damon Winter of the NY Times

I've had some rough days back at work after a vacation before, but nothing like what Damon Winter went through Tuesday. His first assignment back from vacation was a town hall meeting with Sen. Arlen Specter. The photo that led the Times' A section Wednesday morning was a photo of a very angry Craig Miller confronting the senator on the meeting's format. (To respect the Times' copyright, I won't repost it here.)

In an interview with Columbia Journalism Review's Alexandra Fenwick, Winter, who won the Pulitzer Prize this year in Feature Photography for his work covering President Obama's campaign, talks about the event and his approach to shooting it. What struck me was the level to which he prepared himself for what was probably going to happen, going so far as to watch video of prior town hall meetings with the senator. He was also prepared for how the crowd had been taking over events like these and intentionally getting into the photographers' lenses to get their point across, not to mention the less-than-warm welcome he and another Times photographer received.

I've often talked about preparedness with other photographers, but usually only in a sports environment. So many things are out of a photographer's control, especially at a sporting event, that advance preparation is crucial. Is the team's offense primarily a passing or running offense? Who are the major players? Do they do trick plays? How about the pitcher? What are his stats this year? Does he lead the league in strikeouts? Give up a lot of home runs? Does he have a good pickoff move? All of these questions can be answered long in advance, and give me a hint as to what might be a key photograph.

Being prepared can make all the difference when the storytelling moment happens, whether at a football game or a town hall meeting.

The games we play

Bernard Berrian hauls in a catch during practice.

I don't know if you've heard yet, but there's a professional football team in town.

I know, I know. It's hard to believe. Here? Now? Yes.

The annual football circus has rolled into town, and even though Brett Favre isn't with them, Vikings Training Camp is still a circus. For the record, I'm glad Favre didn't show up (the circus would've needed two big tops, one for the players, one for all the media), but I'm also a little disappointed (things would've been more interesting and unique with him here). It's still busy at MSU. More media than past years. Tons of fans filling the stands to watch players stretch.
Media shooting the first day of practice.

The good part about the busy is it brings friends and colleagues from the Twin Cities media outlets to town. It ends up being a great chance to catch up, commiserate, share a meal and some stories together, and try to lift each other's spirits and creative juices, since it seems I only see them when the Vikes come to town.

Besides the game being played on the field, there are a myriad of other games being played off the field during training camp. Media outlets trying to out-blanket-coverage everyone else. Photographers struggling to make an interesting photo of a 350-pound lineman who isn't doing anything but standing there in a half hour or less (more on that later). Reporters mobbing today's player du jour hoping he'll say something interesting.

The problem isn't necessarily in how you play the game, it's in the game itself. Rules and restrictions set forth by the team make uniqueness nearly impossible. Photographers are limited to shooting individual drills only (usually the first half hour of the two-hour practice) and are asked to stop shooting once anything interesting starts to happen or if a player is injured(even though I saw 3 fans in the stands today with the exact same equipment I use shooting 11-on-11 drills). Reporters have limited access to limited players. Coaches say few details about what's happening on or off the field.


Great evening light, and Vikings lineman Anthony Herrera.
So the rules are stacked against us, yet we play the game, especially as photographers. We struggle against security folks saying you can't kneel as we scramble in the limited time available to make interesting pictures for those who follow the Vikings religiously (and for those who are simply curious). I think in some strange way I like the restrictions. It forces me to either find a new recipe for chicken salad or come back with a boring photo of Heath Farwell just standing there sweating. It makes me work harder to make the most of those few good moments: a quick contact drill, great evening light, a laugh between a coach and a player.