Tracy+David

Heidi: Were you both involved in photography prior to joining forces?
Tracy+David: We’re both former news photojournalists who left our staff photography positions at newspapers almost 10 years ago, and moved to Southern California to begin freelancing. David was formerly an Art Director and Photo Editor at The State Journal-Register in Illinois, before returning to grad school for visual communication through the Knight Fellowship at Ohio University. Following grad school, he started shooting full time as a staff photographer at the Naples Daily News in Florida (a medium-sized paper that was known for its strong tradition of documentary storytelling).

Tracy fell in love with photography in high school, practically living in the darkroom when she wasn’t in the pool (she was a serious competitive swimmer), and beat down the door of the local newspaper in New Haven, Conn., to learn the ropes of photojournalism when she was 16. After college and a number of summer internships at newspapers around the country later, she landed a job at the Naples Daily News where she met David. After a couple of years there, Tracy was offered a position at The Plain Dealer in Cleveland, as a staff photojournalist and sports photographer.

While we love what we do now and haven’t looked back, we’ve always felt that our work as photojournalists was the best bootcamp, where we problem solved all day everyday, learned to be extremely flexible and nimble, and learned to work with people from all different walks of life. We became extremely adept at working in a fast-paced, ever-changing environment, thinking quickly, staying calm in stressful situations, and creating large libraries of images under seemingly impossible deadlines.

Do you both shoot for each project?
Yes. We shoot together on almost every project, working as a team to get more images, angles, ideas, etc. Most often, we’re both shooting from different angles simultaneously, capturing essentially double the images and angles that one of us could do on our own. For this reason, we like to work with natural lighting or continuous lighting, if feasible, as it allows us to shoot at the same time. If we’re shooting with strobes or if it works better for a project, we’ll pass a camera back and forth, both directing and working a scene slightly differently to get a wider variety of images, but almost always, we both have a hand in creating images.

Occasionally, if we have an extremely tight schedule or we need to shoot at two locations at once, we’ll both shoot simultaneously on different sets/locations for the same project. In those cases, we aren’t together, per se, but are both shooting at the same time, and know very clearly what we’re trying to accomplish, how everything needs to fit together, and what the end goal is, so we’re still very much working as a team on the project.

Sometimes we’ll do an underwater shoot or a drone shoot, and one person might be underwater shooting images or flying a drone to get an overhead view, while the other is on land shooting from a different angle. We love to work together to photograph a project from multiple angles at once, and really enjoy getting to see the perspective the other person captured.

What are the best aspects of shooting as a team?
We’ve developed and share a cohesive vision and style, but we are still individually creative with unique ideas. We love that by having two sets of eyes and two minds working through ideas and projects, we can merge our perspectives together and come up with something greater than what we’d do individually. We (and our clients) also love that we can produce more work in the same amount of time than one of us could do on our own. Together, we push things further, find different angles, and push each other to see and think differently, which results in a better final product.

Are you able to turn off your photographic minds and conversation when you’re not working?
Many people often tell us that they couldn’t imagine working full time with their spouse, but now about 9 years into working together, we really couldn’t imagine doing this any other way. Our work is incredibly important to us, and we do find that creating a work/life balance is always a challenge. We pour so much into our work, that we’re often still thinking, talking about, and working on our projects when we’re technically supposed to be off. If we’re on a run or a hike with our dog before or after work, it’s rare that photography or something about the day doesn’t come up. We do make sure we have a number of activities and hobbies we like to do together outside of work as well, which really helps give us some down-time and keeps us connected personally so we aren’t simply business partners. We’re really fortunate that we can spend so much of our time together, and still love being with each other.

Best advice for any photo duo?
Find your individual strengths and figure out how to best divide and conquer — especially on the business side of things. We have many overlapping strengths but also different strengths that complement one another, and it took us a few years to understand what these were and how best to utilize them in the office and on set. We realized that we couldn’t both be equally good at everything, and that having each of us focus on developing certain skills that we gravitated towards would make us much stronger as a team. Once we figured this out, we became more productive and efficient, clearer about our roles, and ultimately much better individually and as a team.

Patagonia Journal
Photographer: Austin Siadak

Heidi: How has your relationship with nature informed your photography?
Austin: Hmmm, that’s an interesting one…I don’t think I’ve ever considered that question before. I have always enjoyed nature more as a participant than a viewer – climbing, skiing, trail running through a landscape rather than just sightseeing. Moving through remote and wild landscapes fills me with wild elation and awe and a heightened sense of the joy of being alive. As a result, most of my imagery captures not merely incredible landscapes, but often people interacting with those landscapes in meaningful ways. I think this helps give a sense of scale to my photos, and it also provides viewers with a more accessible portal through which to imagine them in these spaces.

Were there any difficulties capturing these images?
None of these images were particularly difficult to capture, as I took a fairly documentary approach to the trip and didn’t try to force or create any moments or events that weren’t already happening. I think that the only part that would have been difficult for most people/photographers was feeling completely comfortable in a rugged mountain environment and having the skills and fitness to move swiftly and confidently through it. I’ve spent much of the last decade of my life in alpine areas far more technical and scary than what we experienced in The Refuge, and so luckily for me I felt at home running across uneven talus or soloing ahead on snowy ridgelines.

How long did you wait in place before the animals looked at/smelled you? 
Every day of this trip we had to move 15-20 miles over rough terrain, so we never had any time to stop and really wait for the wildlife. This was a bit of a disappointment for me, as I ideally would have scouted where certain animals spent their time and set up some sort of blind to hide behind. As it was I largely just had to react as quick as possible whenever we happened to come across caribou or other animals. I captured the image of the wolf and of those caribou probably only 30 minutes apart. We had just finished descending out of the McCall Glacier Valley and were entering the Coastal Plain where the tundra flattens out and runs north for 50 miles to the Arctic Ocean. It was a cold, windy, foggy day, and we took refuge in a dry creek bed in order to get out of the wind and eat some lunch. We didn’t take note of the fact that while the depression sheltered us from the wind, it also blocked our view of the surrounding landscape. As we sipped down hot soup, Tommy’s eyes suddenly went wide and he half-shouted, “Holy shit. There is a HUGE wolf right behind you!” For a split second I thought he was joking, but I could see the seriousness in his face and quickly whipped my head around to see a large gray wolf only ten feet away. It bounded back a few paces at our movement, and then stopped and stared at us from 20ft away. Having never been so close to an apex predator, I was a little frightened and not sure what to think, but we immediately realized that its posture was calm and relaxed. It was merely curious, not aggressive. I gingerly reached for my camera, switched lenses as quick as I could, and snapped a few frames before it trotted off into the mist. My guess is that the wolf smelled us/the food we had cooked for lunch. We made sure to never lose sight of our surroundings after that.

When you shot the sweeping vista, what ran through your mind?
In moments like this, I often have two distinct trains of thought running through my mind. In the presence of such monumental natural beauty and gigantic scale, I remember thinking that I couldn’t believe how wild and wonderful the landscape was, and how lucky we were to be able to see it from such a vantage. But because I was there to document and take photos, I also spent much of that time thinking about the technical particulars of composing and making images – What to include in the frame? What to exclude? Where to ask the pilot to turn? To tilt the wings to give me a better angle? Did the wind outside the cockpit window shift the focus ring? These thoughts and questions probably occupied a much larger portion of my mind. (This naturally leads me into your next question…)

How often do you put the camera down and simply look?
I think it is nearly impossible to truly appreciate and witness an event or moment while simultaneously trying to document it to the best of your abilities. The natural conflict that thus arises, at least for me, is that if I want to really experience what is happening in front of me I need to put my camera down, turn off the technical side of my mind, and simply appreciate what’s playing out before my eyes. I’ve certainly missed shots doing this, but I have more meaningful memories as a result. One of the most difficult aspects of a trip such as this is developing an expert feel for when it’s really important to keep the camera out and keep pressing the shutter, and when it’s ok to just stop and stare. I think that only comes through hard won experience.

What is are some of the unseen efforts behind these photos that the viewer couldn’t even imagine? 
It is difficult, if not impossible, to do a great job of documenting mountain sports and culture unless you are simultaneously participating in the action at hand. Many of my favorite or “best” images come from trips and experiences where you simply could not have a staged shoot, set up a studio, or have a dozen supporting members helping with all the necessary tasks besides composing and making the images. It’s usually just me and the people in the shot, and I’m often tied in to the other end of their rope. This brings a palpable authenticity and rawness to the photos, but it requires serious motivation and drive to keep pulling out the camera even when there’s myriad other things that need to be done – coil ropes, boil water, break down camp, keep hiking, climb the next pitch, etc.

If there’s one thing that ties a lot of my favorite images together it is that they usually capture moments where I wanted nothing more than to keep my camera in its case and deal with those other things instead. For example, in the sunrise photo where my friend Chris Mutzel stands in front of the Fitz Roy massif as wind whips the rope off the glacier between us, we had been on the move for more than 24 hours, it was bitterly cold out, and ice crystals stung my face like a sandblaster. All I wanted was to bury my chin into my hood and keep trudging along. But I could see that the dawn light was some of the most amazing I’d ever witnessed, and so I called out and asked Chris to stop for 30 seconds or so. We made the image and kept hiking.

Or in the basecamp photo where my friend Sam Seward is in his tent above the Tiedemann Glacier as the moon rises behind, we had been awake since before dawn and on the move all day. We were descending off a climb on nearby Mt. Waddington, and we’d had an accident where Sam was nearly killed by rockfall. In the end all was OK, but we’d spent hours that afternoon bandaging his wounds and I felt completely depleted mentally, physically, and emotionally as darkness finally fell across the landscape. But as I headed to my tent to pass out in glorious slumber I saw the moonrise and knew that if I waited 30-60 minutes the light would be incredible. And so I dug out my camera and a tripod, set it up, composed the shot, and waited. It would have felt amazing to simply go to sleep and get the rest I desperately needed, but I am so glad I didn’t. The reality is that the hardest part is simply making sure that the camera is in your hands. After that comes all the easy stuff.

Patagonia Journal

Creative Director: Kyle McCarthy
Designer: Annette Scheid
Photo Editor: Kyle Sparks
Photographers: Keri Oberly, Austin Siadak

Note: Arctic Refuge image (spread  one), wolf image (top right spread two); caribou image (left page spread five) photographed by Austin Siadak and will be posted in Part 2 next week Tuesday Dec 3rd.

Heidi: The Gwich’in tribe harvest the land and animals they are spiritually connected to, how did that unfold for you on this trip?
Keri: When I went to Arctic Village to document the Porcupine caribou harvest, I went in with locals Jewels Gilbert and Brennan Firth in mid-August, a time when the caribou are usually starting to migrate through. However, with climate change, the migration patterns have become unpredictable. I ended up being in the village 2 weeks before the herd started to migrate through. There was still a lot going on in the village. Lives revolve around harvesting food, medicine, fixing and building things and preparing for winter. It was peak season for blueberries. My first evening, I got invited to go pick blueberries and here I thought we would be gone for a couple of hours, we were out until 3 a.m., under the Arctic sun. That is what we did every night. We would prep dinner then go into the woods, pick blueberries, take a break for moose soup, play games with the kids, then continue until the berry harvest ended and the caribou came. The Gwich’in live off the land, this is how they sustain their culture and identity from the caribou, moose, fish, and berries.

Was the harvest difficult to witness? 
When the Porcupine caribou did start to migrate through, I wasn’t sure how I would handle the harvest, being a former vegetarian for 10 years and having only witnessed the death of an animal once. I found it to be a peaceful experience to watch someone with a deep spiritual connection harvest an animal. I did put my camera down a couple of times to simply watch. It was beautiful to witness someone with so much respect for an animal harvest and handle it. You could feel the love and happiness. They always thank the creator and animal for the food that nourishes their body, mind, and spirit. They also use every part of the caribou, the only part they leave is the stomach, which Jewels says, you have to leave something for the land and other animals – wolves, fox, ravens – they are hungry too.

Since this was the first time Jeffery and Lexine were in the city, what was their reaction?
Since so much of the work the Gwich’in do to fight for their way of life involves traveling on trips across the country and the world to educate people about the importance of protecting the Arctic Refuge, I wanted to cover that as well. Bernadette Demientieff, executive director of the Gwich’in Steering Committee, is a seasoned traveler but likes to bring other Gwich’in on these trips. This trip she brought her daughter, Lexine, 11, and traditional Gwich’in hunter Jeffery John from Venetie. This was Lexine and Jeffery’s first time to a big city, their first time on long plane rides, and Jeffery’s first time out of Alaska.

Jeffery was constantly surprised by the number of people living in Washington D.C. It was something he couldn’t wrap his head around. He asked multiple times throughout the four-day trip, “So how many people live here? Wow, that many.” Mind you, he comes from a village in rural Alaska with a population of around 180.

How did they react to the lack of nature?
On trips like this to Washington D.C., they get no nature. It is a full day of travel, then straight into preparation, then back to back meetings and press conferences, then home. It’s non-stop. I think if Jeffery had been there any longer than four days he would have gone crazy. I remember being in Sierra Club’s office with him, which is on the 8th floor, and he looked at the windows and said, “How do you open the windows?” I told him you can’t, and he said shaking his head, “Well how do people get fresh air in here?”  At one point he looked at the people working in the high rise building across the street and said, “So all those people are working inside like that with no fresh air for 8 hours a day?” He seemed to be in constant surprise and would give me looks like I don’t understand why people live like this.

What was overarching narrative arc for this frontline community?
I wanted to focus on the Gwich’in people and their way of life. I think a lot of work that comes out about protecting the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge focuses on the environmental and adventurous aspect, not about the people living on the frontlines. To the Gwich’in this is a human rights issue, their identity and food are tied to the land. Oil and gas development would destroy their sacred land and food security. I wanted to show they aren’t what many would consider activists or environmentalists, they are fighting for the right to live the way their ancestors have since time immemorial.

What struck you the most about their fight?
An important part of the story are the sacrifices the Gwich’in make for this fight. So much of the work they do is traveling across the country and the world to educate others about the importance of protecting the Arctic Refuge and the Gwich’in way of life. They make huge personal, financial, and family sacrifices to fight for their people and future generations. One that can be rewarding, but also very emotional and draining.

Let’s remember, these sacrifices aren’t just made by the Gwich’in, this is happening to all indigenous and frontline communities across the world, having to fight for their human rights in 2019.

Brian Molyneaux

How long have you been doing this?
Almost 4 years – I started on January 6, 2016. I’ve posted almost 1500 portraits since then. At first, I envisioned doing it for only a few months, but a friend suggested making it a 6-months or year-long project. When I got to 6 months, I felt like there was more to do. When I got to a year, I couldn’t stop. My commitment to myself and the people I haven’t yet met was too strong to stop. Here I am now, still doing it once a day, and I have no plan to stop.

This project allows me to create content every day and allows me to feel that I’ve accomplished something special every day, which has built confidence in other areas of my life. I think the project has benefits to my overall mental health too. My mother was diagnosed with early on-set dementia/Alzheimer’s several years ago. She has digressed a lot over the past few years and one thing I’ve heard from doctors is that having a good social network of friends throughout one’s life will help stave off the effects of Alzheimer’s. There are physical and mental health benefits of walking around, genuinely connecting with someone new, and photographing them. Every day.

Heidi: How much time do you have with each subject?
Brian: The process goes pretty quickly and a lot of it is based on intuition. I’m always on the lookout for interesting people on the street. When I spot a potential subject, I introduce myself, talk to them about the project, and invite them to participate. Then I let our connection unfold organically. I have to convince them that I’m not too weird, allow them to share with me what’s happening in their life at that moment, and get a proper portrait of quality within a few minutes. Usually I allow between 2-5 minutes to do all of this and have them sign the model release on my phone.

It still surprises me how we can as humans can get so vulnerable and truly honest within minutes. Sometimes, I am so taken up by the connection, I don’t think about it as a process. Those interactions usually result in the best portraits. But as much as I love the portraits, I love the connections I’m making more than anything else. I thrive on being able to capture that moment in someone’s life and I am floored that people trust me as much as they do. I prefer not to hammer the shutter. I don’t ever worry about whether I can get the shot. Once the connection is there I know the photo will come.

How has your process and imagery refined now that you are almost 4 years in?
The first day I used my iPhone. It wasn’t planned it just sort of happened. I was leaving the grocery store and there was this guy cutting flowers in the flower department holding a knife. I approached him and asked if I could photograph him in that same position. He agreed and the project was born. I switched to photographing with my Nikon the next day on the street.

For a bit I used an AE-S Nikkor 24-70mm 2.8, but mainly I’ve used a manual Nikkor 50mm 1.4. The entire project has been photographed at 50mm. I wanted to honor how I learned to shoot with film years ago so I’ve added challenges, like getting the shot in 24 frames or less. I often come away with several selects from those 24. The constraints I have added have helped me a lot.

I’ve also developed better skills at reading people, which has translated into having a high success rate. I’ve only had 67 rejections. Recently I started using video to ask people one relatively deep question after we finish the portrait. I like expanding the experience to literally give voice to the people in the photos. All the verbal cues, changes in facial expression and intonation that video allows captures a thicker slice of their story than just the photo and the blurb I write.

Any plans for a book with images and stories?
Yes. I am talking with a couple publishing houses about creating a book or book series of this project. I’d like to take the project on the road to places that I haven’t spent much time in, like the Deep South and Cuba. I’m excited for the possibilities of meeting new people everywhere I visit.

What is the drive to continue?
Total world domination. Well, not really. To connect and tell stories through photos and words. I am fascinated about people and human behavior and the stories that connect and unite us. I want to capture that as much as I possibly can. Here we are – floating around on this ball in space – all unique but sharing bonds of commonality. I want to expose what makes us similar and connected. There’s plenty of noise out there about what divides us. I’m all about connecting people.