The Power of Self-Assignments

Man vs.Pollution, Los Angeles River
©2009 Chris Ragazzo
(click to enlarge)

Wouldn't it be great if you woke up every morning and a newspaper editor assigned you a story to cover with your camera? It would be important, relevant, hard to capture and completely up to you to photograph. The editor would trust you to do the rest. He wouldn't hold your hand, or tell you where to go. He would assume that you were capable of figuring all that out, and for that task, he was going to pay you handsomely, and your picture would be viewed by millions of people the next morning while they ate their breakfasts.

Well, as it turns out, newspapers are dying, the kind of trust I described is hard to find, and the money isn't all that good after taxes, but, the good news is, you don't have to wait for that assignment to start shooting photographs that are relevant, hard to capture and completely up to you to create.

It was early one morning, just after I purchased my Canon Mark II Ds, that I loaded the car with most of my gear, a piping hot double-capp from Peet's Coffee, music CD's from 1967 to 1974, and hit the streets of Los Angeles while my wife and kids were fast asleep on a lazy Saturday morning.

It occurred to me the night before, with this big beautiful camera fresh out of the box, that I didn't know how I planned to learn the nuances of this techno-beast. I could set strobes up in the studio and create tests, but I was bored just thinking about it. I needed something else. I needed, an assignment.

Being freelance is a "man on wire" prospect. Freedom without supervision, and sometimes, sadly, without direction, can be deadly. I am hoping that as I write this, there is a photographer out there reading this that can relate. We all need a goal, sometimes big, sometimes very small, but something that frames us just enough to give us direction. That's where the "self-assignment" comes in. Create an assignment or project that will stimulate you, challenge you, and really help you to hone both your vision and you personal shooting style.

Somewhere between Buffalo Springfield's "For What It's Worth", and Traffic's "John Barleycorn, I gave myself my assignment...it would be "Pollution". There certainly would be no shortage of that in Los Angeles, so I started heading down the alleys of Venice and Santa Monica, past overflowing dumpsters being scavenged by early morning homeless folks. I shot a few uninspired frames. Soon I was heading out toward Manhattan Beach and beyond, by now deep into the second side of Genesis' "The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway," when I pulled my yellow Turbo Beetle to the side of the road and turned the engine off.

I sat there in silence. In two hours I hadn't shot one single frame I could use. I turned the car north and started heading home. As I was crossing over a bridge, I looked out my window and saw the L.A. River below me. I swerved into the emergency lane and shut the Beetle down again. It was time to hoof it. The comfort of the car would have to be abandoned. I grabbed my back pack, some water and an iPod, and I was gone. It took three minutes to wait for a break in Saturday morning traffic for me to safely sprint across four lanes.

Once across, I could sense that mind-shift that I have come to recognize and rely on over the years. That moment when you recognize that you are a hunter in search of your prey. In this case, the prey is the photograph that fulfills the self-assignment.

Looking at my photos of that day, I shot the following: birds eating garbage, rats crawling in bushes, work-relief kids cleaning up trash, garbage in water and on and on, and not one of those pictures really did it for me. I walked in the sun that was already too hot for about half an hour.
Finally, I decided to call it a morning. I was over-working, over-thinking, over-theorizing and overkilling the whole experience. I turned around and started the walk back to the car. I powered down the camera and put it back in the pack. I drank some water and cranked up, "All Along The Watchtower," the Hendrix version.

As I started walking back over the bridge, I turned back and looked over the edge. From this high-angle there was a very cool reflection that I hadn't noticed earlier. But now, the gear was packed, I was hot, and I still had to cross the four lanes of death before heading back. I waited a few minutes, then crossed the highway and loaded the Beetle. I started the engine. I was ready to go. I really was. I was almost gone, when I shut the Turbo down and got back out the car. I crossed the road again and started framing up. Runners and bikers kept getting in my shot. It was actually starting to piss me off, but this was Saturday morning and every office rat in L.A. was out to remind themselves that they were still human, so I would have to just grow some patience.

I finally squeezed off several empty frames of beautiful garbage reflecting in the water, when a runner passed by below me and I noticed that his reflection could also be seen. I framed up again and waited. Lots of couples passed by. I shot a few. Still, not quite ready to leave, I waited a few more minutes. Then, a solo runner appeared. I waited, both eyes open for him to enter the frame and I shot the photograph you are looking at.

I crossed the Deathway one last time and headed back to the house listening to Elton John's "Captain Fantastic and The Brown Dirt Cowboy." I was happy. Happy that I didn't quit until I had fulfilled my own assignment.

Is it a great shot? No. Does it convey the message of my assignment? Yes. Does it work on more than one level for me? Yes. The fact that the man seems oblivious to the pollution that he is surrounded by, that he most likely participated in creating, that is choking the very water that he drinks and uses, is multi-leveled enough for me. It is depressing and beautiful at the same time, and I like the overall symmetry of the image. At least, that's what I see. (In general, I leave all that I have just described for the viewer to decide, but for the sake of sharing information, especially for photographers just beginning their journey, I am telling you what makes this photo work for me.)

The point of the exercise, is that when you feel uninspired, you might just have to create a challenge for your artistic self, and act as teacher and student all at the same time. Waiting for inspiration can be deadly. So, don't wait. Take your camera off the shelf, start shooting and be really careful crossing the road.

Editor's Note: I sent a few photos from that day to the photo editor of The Los Angeles Times, whom I did not know at the time. He wrote me back right away, saying that he really liked the photos and had no use for them at the time. Months later, I shot a fire in Indio. I sent him those photos. With each communication, the correspondence increased in warmth and respect. So, new guys out there. It is never a waste of time to shoot your own assignments. It is a waste of time to send an editor an empty letter with none of your work attached. That, I can guarantee.