everything lasts forever in a photograph.

Sometimes people ask me why I got into photography or what I like about it.

Although my father did like to take vacation photos on fancy cameras and I even got to play with a Canon F1 that was lying around the house, I didn’t grow up surrounded by photography. Instead, most of my childhood memories are of family trips to England and France, and even more of constant relocation. We lived in Germany, Brazil, Israel, Northern Virginia, New York, etc. Just ahead of the internet age, there wasn’t really any such thing as “keeping in touch” with your third grade crush (although I did end up going to prom with her in another country, but that had more to do with fate and the US Air Force).

Through a series of (un)fortunate events, I eventually found myself in the strange position of making a living from photography. Still, I don’t think I had ever really examined what I liked about photography. Sure, I enjoyed the process, the combination of technique and artistry, the collaboration with subjects and crew, the pretty girls, the catering (might I recommend the caprése), the pretty girls, etc. All accurate, but it ignores the fundamental question of “why is photography important to me?” There are plenty of other things I could do for a living…so why photography?

It comes down to this:  I’m an antisocial person who enjoys human connection on a visceral level. I love seeing what makes someone tick, feeling physical chemistry, finding vulnerable beauty. Unfortunately, due to imperfect memory, age, death and red wine – once I learn this information in a 3am conversation, I can’t always retain it.

I only have a hazy memory of what my friend Josh in third grade was like to hang out with (and no police reports to reminisce over, as we both had diplomatic immunity from our respective countries and paid cash for doctor visits). I only have a vague image of what Nikki, the first girl I kissed, looked like – modified by my own id and years of poor quality chocolate consumption (thankfully remedied in my adult life). And I’ve lived in many incredible cities, but can only really remember the family vacations that stuck in my head and occasionally in my father’s camera.

Sometimes, through sheer luck or possibly with the help of some craftsmanship, a photograph can capture a moment or even a person.

Throughout our lives, relationships change. Occasionally through traumatic physical events like death or illness, but often through the more mundane machinery of life. People grow up, lives diverge naturally, arguments turn into lifelong excommunication, lovers grow apart, old relationships take on new dimensions, etc. Things are constantly evolving, being destroyed and reborn.

What I love about photography is that in my images, nothing will ever change. While my perspective on the person or place in the image will surely change in the years to come, when I go back to that image, it hasn’t changed. In 1/60th of a second, I can show someone’s mischievous spirit. I can capture the introspection in their eyes. I can highlight their sexuality in an everyday expression.

There’s a certain type of immortality that can infuse a photograph of a person. To me, a perfect image is not one that is technically brilliant, or has the most innovative composition, or was shot with unusual equipment, or any of those things. To me, a perfect image is one that gives you the same emotional experience you would get if you could sit down in a room and interact one-on-one with that person at that moment in their life.

No single image will capture a personality – hopefully we are all a bit too multifaceted for that. And neither will a 30 minute conversation capture a personality – if it did, modern courtship would be a far different animal. Instead, I’d like a single image to capture a 30 minute conversation.

I want the picture to be worth a thousand words…of meaningful conversation with my subject. You can learn a lot about someone in a thousand words. We have 278 left…

Or – how to promote your competitor’s product.

Recently Panasonic UK released a behind-the-scenes video from the new Lumix G2 commercial. The tagline for their video is Everything Matters. By this, I assume they are referring to everything except for the fact that they shot it on a Canon 5D MkII and included footage on YouTube clearly showing multiple Canons (even their distinctive white L lenses) in the BTS video.

This seems like a bizarre error. I have trouble even imagining how it occurred. They decided to shoot a Panasonic ad on Canons, then decided to shoot behind-the-scenes video showing them doing this, then edited and color corrected that BTS video, then compressed it for the web, and finally someone at Panasonic UK uploaded it to their YouTube account.

Personally, I’m relatively brand agnostic. I love products and companies – but my love is conditional. If I like a company, it’s because they treat me well (mmm…In N Out). If I like a product, it’s because it works well for my needs (Predator drones). If I like a lot of products, then I probably like the company (which actually applies to both Canon and Panasonic for me).

Now, let’s ignore for a moment all the various brand identity and marketing rules they’re breaking, and instead focus on why this is technically infuriating.

Why in the world would a company like Panasonic hire a director or DP who then decides to use Canon? Now, if Panavision hired me to shoot a still photo of David Fincher sitting behind a Panavision Platinum – I might well use a Canon, because there is no technically appropriate Panavision product. Yet this Panasonic commercial was shot with a camera that was probably *not* even the best choice. As much as I love the 5D MkII, this commercial would be perfect for the GH1, which is made by…Panasonic. It shoots at 60fps (great for action sequences) and is much smaller than the 5D MkII or even the 7D (great for actor rigs).

I’m not saying the Canon was the “wrong” camera. I shoot Canon all the time. But I also shoot Phase One and even Panasonic. I use the right tool for the job, but in this case I could easily shoot this commercial with the Canon 7D or the Panasonic GH1 (actually wouldn’t choose the 5D MkII because its slower frame rates is less flexible for action). When it’s a coin flip on which camera to use, it’s just a strange behavior that they chose their competitor’s product.

While I personally really like the Panasonic Lumix G series, Olympus certainly has their marketing more organized.

Now when we add the rules of branding and marketing into the mix, this “Panasonic” behind-the-scenes video transforms from really annoying to an error of mind boggling proportions. If you work for Pepsi, they don’t even want you to travel on an airline that serves Coca-Cola products. And vice versa. It sounds silly at first, but these are real concerns with millions or billions at stake. Besides not wanting to give any money or support to your competition, it also avoids the possibility of a photo of the Head of Marketing for Coca Cola sitting next to his (presumably First Class) Pepsi drinking seatmate.

Panasonic President Fumio Ohtsubo recently spent about 30 billion yen to consolidate Matsushita and National all under the Panasonic brand name. I imagine he would not be happy to know that their money is being spent to promote a competitor.

Knowing that’s the landscape, how could this have happened? Having spent a significant amount of time in Japan, I have trouble imagining this mistake would ever happen there. They take company loyalty (not just branding) extremely seriously. Does Panasonic’s Japanese right hand (カメラの手?) not know what its UK left hand is doing? Possibly they are having difficulty bridging the cultural divide.

After having worked for many companies that have Japanese offices and Western offices, I can easily imagine Panasonic UK and Panasonic Japan having serious communication problems. I am often amazed at the extent of the cultural gap and how little is done to bridge it. 残念ですね。I have even found myself as the liaison between employees in Japan and the US…both theoretically working for the same company.

When Panasonic Japan made a video about their ToughBook series of laptops, they clearly display that the video was made with a Panasonic Lumix camera – and it looks great.

These aren’t even the same departments (computers and cameras), yet they clearly understand brand consistency. In the UK, apparently the camera department isn’t even aware of the importance of internal brand consistency.

In any event, the Panasonic Lumix series and the Canon DSLR series are both great, but Canon’s advertising is far better organized. I really hope Panasonic uses this as a wake up call and gets their brand strategy together. That way we won’t have to see their engineering outpace their marketing.

photo by Jeremy Goldberg

Is it better to do or to teach?

There’s a saying that goes something like, “Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach.”

It’s kinda funny and pithy. It’s usually quoted by myopic university students. It’s also quite misleading. It tries to answer the question of whether it’s better to do something, or to teach someone else how to do it. Overlooking the obvious issues (eg. we don’t want self-taught thoracic surgeons), I think it bears closer examination as many people believe this, even if only subconsciously.

A good teacher usually possesses a different skill set than a good performer. It has nothing to do with being better or worse – it’s just different. The same way that a thoracic surgeon is no better than a neurosurgeon. Either one can be a godsend if that’s what you need. In the same vein, if you are trying to become a lawyer, a great law professor will do you more good than a great lawyer.

I have met people who were amazing practitioners who couldn’t impart their knowledge to others. They had no clue how they manage to fly – they just did it. Ask them about the Bernoulli principle and you would get blank stares. Often they had no interest in imparting their knowledge – making discussions about their own craft cramped and vacuous.

I’ve also met people who were inspiring teachers who were unable to implement their own teaching. They could make you love their subject and inspire you to follow it with all your heart. Yet their own work was less exciting than the work they could teach you to do.

Of course there are the exceptions that are able and interested in doing both of these things. Yet I’m not sure how one would pick the more noble or worthwhile vocation. The world needs both. Whether you’re teaching or doing, as long as you find it inspirational, others probably will, too.

I am largely self-taught, but that’s not because I think it’s more noble to struggle through learning things on your own. Possibly I thought that way when I was younger, but as I gained some knowledge that should have come more quickly, I learned that while even a mediocre teachers can be worse than no teacher at all – a good teacher is indispensable. They can alter your life’s course, give you inspiration that lasts for decades, and impart wisdom that would have taken you decades to acquire. If you were lucky enough to have a teacher like this, I’m sure you remember them.

Part of the reason I’m involved in the entertainment industry is because I took a class from Peter Guber at UCLA, who was Chairman of Sony Pictures at the time (now President of Mandalay Entertainment). He obviously didn’t need the UCLA “paycheck”, and we all know studio heads keep their jobs because of raw desire (theirs) and raw fear (everyone who is supplying the money) – not because of the dubious resume trophy of a film school Professorship. It was obvious he was not only genuinely excited about the industry and wanted to share that, but that he was excited to learn more about an industry he had been at the top of for 20 years. This class was his excuse for still exploring and learning about an industry he had helped shape. While being the consummate doer, you couldn’t help but be influenced by that kind of enthusiasm for learning about the business and art of moviemaking, and how the two might be combined. I’ve often been frustrated that people seem to view the business or art of movies separately in a vacuum, but that’s a post for another day.

Unfortunately, most teachers impart only vocation and detail, but rarely knowledge and inspiration. If you’re lucky enough to encounter even one really great teacher along the way that does more than that, make sure you appreciate it and gain as much as you can from it.

What will people remember you for?

Everyone (except my friend Troy House who avoids basketball like the plague) has probably heard the “greatest basketball player” discussion. Michael Jordan, Kobe Bryant, LeBron James, Wilt Chamberlin, etc. Is it based on pure shooting ability (Kobe?). Is it based on team importance (LeBron?). Is it based on championship rings (Bill Russell?).

You can argue the relative merits of any of those positions. The same thing happens in any competitive field. Who’s the best director in Hollywood? What’s the best burger spot in New York? Who’s the best dentist or car mechanic? People use all sorts of metrics. Cheapest car mechanic, highest grossing director, the director with the most awards, etc.

I find it’s nice to turn to sports, as it often paints a clearer picture. Hence all the wonderful metaphors in the sports world. A team’s winning or losing has to do with many factors, but in the end they either win or lose. In Hollywood, one person’s most hated movie will be another person’s favorite.

Getting back to basketball, however, all the same confusion applies with this discussion. People usually just tend to pick the most public figure who was playing when they were about 10-15 years old. Same way people often pick sports teams for life, someone who is about 22 now might automatically think Kobe Bryant is the best player, more because of timing than sheer ability. If you’re 12 now, in 10 years you will write blog entries about LeBron being the greatest player.

However, I think people often come back to Michael Jordan for a number of reasons – and for more than just being a great player.

Michael Jordan put his imprint on everything he did. He didn’t just win, he did it with style. He looked like he was simultaneously working harder than everyone else, playing with less effort and having way more fun. While other players might beat you, Jordan would make you look bad, but without ever making you look bad. I saw players actually fall down from Jordan’s feinting stutter steps – not because of anything he did, but because they were already scared and anticipating what he was going to do.

People talk about a “mental” game, but they don’t realize that it’s not just in your head, but in everyone else’s head, too.

When it comes down to it, no one had more signature “moves” than Jordan. Kobe has a distinctive fadeaway, and Kareem had a distinctive hook – but everything Jordan did was distinctive. Things that had nothing to do with even playing were distinctive! The way he chewed gum, or stuck his tongue out when driving the lane. What other player put such a stamp on themselves, and on the game?

It’s no surprise that the most distinctive player in basketball history practically branded Nike during the 90′s with just the afterglow of his own personal branding.

Nothing Jordan did was a gimmick, though. He didn’t stick his tongue out to distract you from the fact that he couldn’t drive to the basket. This is a huge distinction, and one that people forget. If you develop a way of doing things because your way is better and reflects your personality – that’s a signature. If you develop a way of doing things that hides the fact that your way isn’t better and only reflects your desired image – that’s a gimmick.

Jordan really did change the game.

BP, TransOcean and Halliburton giving testimony before Congress

Responsibility, or the lack thereof.

On Monday night, the Utah Jazz lost to the LA Lakers, ending Utah’s playoff run. 25 year old Deron Williams, when asked about the loss, responded with, “We’re a playoff team and they’re a championship team. They’re just better than we are.” He didn’t blame the refs, he didn’t mention that his right wrist might need surgery, and he didn’t blame anyone else on the team or in the state of Utah or the tooth fairy.

On Tuesday, the President of BP America, 51 year old Lamar McKay, testified in front of Congress about the accident on BP’s oil rig. He explained that Transocean was responsible for the safety of drilling operations, so it wasn’t BP’s fault. The CEO of Transocean, 45 year old Harvard MBA Steven Newman, said that offshore oil drilling responsibility begins and ends with the operator of the rig, so it wasn’t Transocean’s fault. Executive VP of “Strategy” at Halliburton, 58 year old Timothy Probert, said they did everything according to accepted industry standards, so it wasn’t Halliburton’s fault.

Personally, despite a losing performance on Monday, I would trust Deron Williams to oversee offshore drilling more than any of these three companies. He pro’ly gets paid more than those clowns, but at least he earns it.

When people ask why sports figures make more than businessmen and teachers and doctors…I’d like to think this is the reason.

Creative Projects

When you become at least moderately successful in a creative profession, it’s easy to let all “non-professional” endeavors fall by the wayside. A professional actress may not feel the need to act in something just for the experience, when they have years or decades of experience. While I understand this mindset, I try to guard against it as then you only do projects that have an obvious and often immediate return. Some of the most rewarding projects I’ve done (both financially and creatively) have been things that didn’t have immediate value and were often divergent from my work at the time, but were things I personally wanted to pursue.

The other important aspect is that people generally pay you to do more of the same. In other words, a beauty photographer generally gets paid to shoot beauty. Convincing someone that you have a great eye for gritty sports reportage requires stepping outside of your normal box to prove it. If you’re an actress who does great romantic comedies, you face an uphill battle convincing directors and producers to cast you as the lead in a dramatic piece. This is where “personal” projects are most valuable.

You are constantly refining your vision, and proving your abilities. When you no longer feel the need to do either, you are no longer creating…you are reproducing.

The musician Beck has an ongoing project called Record Club. They get a bunch of musicians together and record a cover of an entire album in one day, then release the tracks one by one online. I like some, I find others interesting exercises that you’d have to pay me to endure. Nonetheless, I love talented and professional people collaborating on a project for the enjoyment of the medium. It doesn’t happen very often, but there are many wonderful examples throughout history of the confluence of creative people.

So enjoy Record Club while you can. And to clarify, I’m not saying that “personal” work always means “unpaid” work, just that I try to constantly create for creativity’s sake. I think it not only makes your work more creative, in the long run it will make it more fulfilling…financially and otherwise.

Can a television commercial teach you character?

I recently was describing this commercial to a friend on the telephone as one of my all-time favorite commercials. Growing up, I had never been exposed to the concept that failure is an inevitable and important ingredient of success…and I didn’t expect my first exposure to come in the form of a Nike commercial.

However, this is a lesson you can easily miss if you don’t participate in organized sports. In math, nobody expects you to get a certain percentage of the problems wrong. In English, no one expects you to incorrectly define a certain percentage of vocabulary. In academia, no one expects you to do anything wrong.

The problem is that life doesn’t work like math class. In class, you read the chapter, learn the lesson, do the practice tests, and then hopefully get 100% on your test. In basketball, you train for years, do drills until you hurt for days, play thousands of hours – and then you’re amazing if you can shoot 50% from the field.

I’m certainly not saying failure is more acceptable in sports. On the contrary, people usually care more about winning in basketball than they do in math class.  I think it has more to do with preparation and the fear of failure. In sports, you risk failure by even being in the game. Yet in academia, you can study hard and prepare well and never come close to failing in your entire academic career. This is great for your transcript, but terrible for later in life…when you are confronted by risks that might reasonably end in failure. Should you start that new business? Well, it might fail. Again. Yet no one suggests you don’t try to hit the game winning shot because you have a 50% chance of failure and you missed once before.

These experiences explain why many successful people have a background in sports – or in skilled games of chance, which teach many of the same lessons.

So next time you take on a project or a career that has a real chance of failure, or embark on a path that has led you astray before…just remember that success and failure are intertwined and it’s hard to capture one consistently without experiencing your fair share of the other.