It’s “Guest Blog Wednesday” featuring: Joe McNally

mookbookssm.jpg

I’m officially nervous. Guest blog for Scott Kelby? Hmmmm. Okay, why be nervous? I’ll just go ahead and pretend I’m writing for my blog. No problem, just type away. But here’s the deal. Scott’s blog is Broadway, man; lights, limos, red carpet, strobes flashing, throngs of swells mingling by the thousands!

My blog is community theater in Piscataway. (Apologies to theater goers in Piscataway… I probably couldn’t open there, either.)

Scott’s is also a very forward looking blog. Thoughts, notions, products, gear, philosophy, approach… so much of it is about what is happening now, or about to happen, in our industry. It’s pretty cool, and it’s a must read way station for all those trying to stay afloat in the fast moving digital rapids. Scott, in short, is on top of it all.

So this is quite an honor, to be sure. It got me to thinking, here in my cave, Mac firmly gripped in my paws, looking for the “on” button, about what got me here. The simple answer is that I’ve been a photographer for 30 years. Lots of jobs, peaks, valleys, nicks, cuts and bruises, bad pictures, some good ones, crazy jobs, lousy hotels, bumpy flights, missed connections, and, like a battered suitcase, I tumbled off the baggage belt, here.

A career in photography is a journey without a destination. No idea where the road goes. But I have a notion about where it started, and from the panoramic future gazing promontory known as Photoshop Insider, I thought I’d look, like, backwards. (Threw the “like” in there. I’ve got a teenage daughter.)

Back to the work that has gone before. Not that I’m disinterested in current work. There’s a ton of great work being done, from the battlefield shooters of Iraq to the Hollywood gang filling the glossy pages of Vanity Fair. But for now, I’m talking about work that…

…has already been done. In some cases, a long time ago. Touchstones, in a word.

I have always revered those photographers who blazed the trail. With none of the tools that are available now, they created an archive that is the shoulders upon which we all stand. Looking at their work is what made me take up a camera. So when things are nuts, and my mind is splintered, and the job seems to be going horribly wrong, and I can’t buy a decent frame, and the camera feels like a dead weight around my neck instead of a means of expression, I go back to this work. It clears my head. It perks me up. It reminds me of what’s possible. It is shelter from the storm.

I thought my list of photogs, and some of their books (photo above by Anne Cahill) might be worth sharing. In no particular order:

As we race towards the fantastic future, where we will have even more and better tools than we can imagine, it is still important to look back. Pictures last. They have power. They stay, and the important ones, just like big trees, grow roots into our soul.

The pictures left their impression on me, even as I turned the pages at the age of 7 or so. I didn’t know it, but I was already becoming a photographer.

Exit mobile version