It has been one year since a group of protesters began sleeping on the ground in Zuccotti Park to protest growing income inequality, corporate influence on politics, climate change, and a number of other issues.

SLIDESHOW: RETURN OF OCCUPY

One year ago no-one had heard of Occupy Wall St. and it was fascinating to watch the excitement and size of the protest grow over time. What began as a rag tag group of people who came together to make a semi-permanent presence near Wall St. to spread their message in the heart of the New York financial district quickly grew. For those of us who live and work in New York it was a refreshing change to have a news story grow organically in a city where everything is always polished and shined to dullness in order to present to the media.

For the first time since living here there was a story that allowed you in to cover not only the unplanned demonstrations and actions but also the participants as they sat in Zuccotti dreaming and planning the direction of this movement. Most of the time demonstrators have to pre-approve everything they did with the NYPD and the city but Occupy was refreshingly obstinate in not pre-approving anything and took advantage of their constitutional right to assemble and demonstrate their displeasure with the direction of the country.

Ironically, throughout the movement it has been the police who are giving the movement it’s biggest boost on the national stage. First when a video captured an NYPD commander named Anthony Bologna pepper-spraying a number of protesters, followed by the NYPD arresting hundreds of protesters on the Brooklyn Bridge, and police in Oakland injuring an Iraqi veteran with a pepper spray canister.

Combined with their fight against income inequality and the link between money and politics the movement hit a chord as the story began to circulate through the media. The perception that banks and the people associated with them had swindled the public in the form of massive bailouts galvanized a large number of people, quickly spawning mirroring Occupy encampments in Washington D.C., Denver, Oakland, Los Angeles, and dozens of other cities. For those of us covering the growing demonstrations it seemed like a movement that would only grow especially as it began to turn the national discussion at the time to talk of the 99% and the concentration of income and wealth held by 1% of the population.

This seemed like a message that people could and would get behind and it spawned some extremely large demonstrations most notably here in New York, Oakland, and Chicago. It was exhilarating for us as photographers to cover thousands of protesters marching through New York on October 15th (I did not cover this but several co-workers did) and November 2nd of 2011. It was great to see a cause that did not feel the need to overplan and completely refine their message before presenting it to the public and the media.

However, as someone covering the story in New York it was around this point in time when you could see the bliss of the earlier days of the protest start to be replaced by a sort of deadlock between participants with big plans and those who were pre-occupied with the logistics of creating a sort of utopia in Zuccotti Park. As a photographer who routinely spent hours in the park I saw people start to argue a lot more within the encampment about duties or ideas that they didn’t like. I started to see the impact that several hundred people camping in what was essentially a concrete lot with trees in it had on the immediate environment.

I covered the encampment during a freak snowstorm in October as Occupiers slowly began to desert their unheated tents in search of warmth and dryness. That storm showed the shortcomings of camping in a temperate environment in the winter and spelled the beginning of the end of the camp in Zuccotti which I covered as everyone was evicted on the evening of November 15, 2011. This was followed by the evictions of encampments all across the country and took something out of the movement as it seemed to me they spent as much energy and time planning for the logistics of the encampments as they did refining and planning their over-arching message.

The movement also had to contend with the aversion of a large number of its members to even acknowledge that the “system” was capable of being saved and shouldn’t be completely abolished and rebuilt. They might have been able to force through changes in Campaign Finance reform or expanded powers for the SEC or any number of specific demands when they had an obvious popularity early on but by the point the encampments were evicted it seemed the movement might never recover. In fact, for us here in New York there were large labor backed demonstrations on May 1st but other than that we haven’t seen much which is why this past weekend would show us where the movement stood.

For me these anniversary demonstrations were a lot of familiar faces, chants, tactics, and experiences but I did not see anything to make me believe that the movement would be experiencing a groundswell of support this time around. Logistically, covering these demonstrations always involves a lot of running through the streets of the financial district in New York as the protesters attempt to stay one step ahead of the NYPD, trying to cause enough of a spectacle or disruption to spread their message.

The NYPD works their hardest to either herd or chase the protesters around until things fizzle and everyone departs. The whole thing is very confusing with the Occupy folks breaking up into several groups who all go off in different directions to achieve different objectives and only myself and colleague Andrew Burton to keep up with the story. The two of us kept in contact via text message attempting to keep each other informed whenever it seemed a group was doing something particularly interesting. For us, covering the demonstrations, the arrests and the conflicts between Occupiers and the NYPD are a powerful source of images.

For me, it boils down to a couple of reasons. The first is because the presence of the NYPD as a physical manifestation of “the system” tends to bring the raw emotion out of the demonstrators leading to more powerful pictures of the demonstrators themselves. Secondly, I feel it is important to document the points when the protesters and police clash in order to record the behavior of both sides so that it can be dissected later who was at fault when something goes wrong.

As I stated earlier one of the most ironic facts about this movement is that it owes its popularity to the continual over-reaction of police forces to what is a mostly non-violent demonstrating of participants. The Anthony Bologna pepper-spraying, the Brooklyn Bridge arrest, the UC Davis pepper spraying, and the Oakland PD’s injuring of veteran Scott Olsen have all galvanized people whereas the actual demonstrations seem to stir little change at this point.

The Occupiers go into the streets to disrupt the financial system, which never happens. Some people might be late to work or a handful of businesses might not open on a particular day but mostly it is a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things. The anniversary was a poignant reminder that the movement is still in its infancy and it remains to be seen if anyone involved has learned how to make it a more viable force in our nation’s political or economical scene or if it will just fade away and leave us with only the term 99% as the rest of us go on trying to make ends meet and living our lives.

Over the course of three days Reuters, along with several other prominent outlets, was given a space and (almost) guaranteed time with every member of Team USA that was able to attend a media summit in Dallas this past May, in order to take portraits of the team members. It was a win-win situation for all involved. The athletes were able to take care of a great deal of their media availability in one weekend and members of the media were not required to travel all over the US in order to get portraits of these elite athletes before they head off to London for the 2012 Olympics. As the photographer from Reuters assigned to this portrait marathon there was only one issue; how to take a single space along with extremely limited time with each athlete to make unique, interesting, and ideally self-explanatory images of dozens and dozens of athletes.

It was a daunting task to say the least but I started with a simple lighting setup that played off of several portrait collections I had seen, including Douglas Kirkland’s, and work that tends to appear in either men’s health or sporting magazines. I finally settled on a dual setup where my first setup would use a simple grey background and light to enhance the muscle tone of the athletes. My second setup was to use a large American flag (given to me by my brother as I arrived in Jalalabad, Afghanistan) to take photos of the athletes who were involved with sports that did not lend themselves to the flexing of muscles or shedding of clothing. I wanted to use ProFoto lights as they have a remote controller and trigger called the “Air Remote” that I could put on my camera to control the light’s power output from the controller mounted on top of the camera. This would save me precious time as I wouldn’t have to physically go to each of the four lights to change their outputs depending on whether I was shooting on the grey seamless backdrop or the flag.

FULL FOCUS GALLERY: TEAM USA

I cannot think of a single athlete who was not gracious and accommodating in the time we were given. Some of the times were shorter than others. The uber-popular yet incredibly bouncy gymnasts gave us between 30 seconds to one minute. Overall, everyone was up for whatever pose or idea that you could come up with. Some of the competitors brought the tools that accompany their sport like racquets, rifles, bows or fencing swords.

Others wore the uniforms that they would be competing in, some being more obvious to the sport than others. As the photographer, it was a cavalcade of short conversations where I had to attempt to figure out who they were and what they did. I attempted to either convey that in an image or show them in an honest moment as they thought about what the next few months would hold in store for them. I tried to stray from the “hello, nice to meet you, where are you from, what is your sport, and give me your game face.” But after having so many five minute conversations it was difficult to keep the energy high enough to eek out an honest reflective moment or casual pose. Most of the time I had photos that I knew would work but that I felt looked a little too forced and also too similar to what everyone else was doing. I wasn’t managing to catch something more honest in the camera it seemed. Then, almost by accident on the last day, my eureka moment hit me as I was asking assorted members of the wrestling team to stretch in order to highlight the incredible muscle tone that they possess.

For every athlete there exists a moment in time where he or she transitions from preparation to  competing, and in that moment the athlete is in a world of their own. It is in this moment where they are free to reflect on the path that has brought them to this point and where they are able to envision the victory that lies before them. It is a time of rampant and complete optimism where self doubt is pushed to the back of the room and they only see what is possible and not what is probable.

It took me over two days to find that I could ask these athletes to go into this state of mind while they were standing in front of me for a few brief moments. Often they asked if I had particular stretches in mind but I always replied that I wanted them to go into the same preparations or stretches that they would before a match, game, or event. Sometimes the stretch might have been as simple as limbering up an arm but sometimes they went into a stretch on the ground or reached their hands high over their head as they arched their back. I turned down my main light behind me and raised the power of the side lights to highlight the muscle tone as much as possible and it was here that I finally started to see a cohesive collection of images that I really liked.

Some stretches aren’t as interesting as others and I wish I had started with the stretching earlier but overall I felt it made a nice collection. Now my only frustration is that it’s going to be four more years before I have more subjects that are in this amazing shape in order to continue the series and refine the look. Oh well, I suppose 2016 isn’t THAT far away.

One of the ubiquitous presences when traveling through Afghanistan on an embed with U.S. soldiers is that of scores of children either watching the soldiers passing in convoys or patrolling their villages. It is not uncommon for dozens of faces to be staring at you, often while standing mere feet away from the obvious out-of-towners.

The soldiers do their best to either ignore these multitudes of staring eyes or to interact with them but most often the children react shyly when confronted or when someone tries to talk to them. As a photographer traveling with these soldiers I also stand out, even more so than the soldiers which they are at least used to seeing. I am dressed differently and instead of a rifle I carry something they see far less often – cameras. For me these trips are as frustrating as they are interesting. I try to catch moments when these children are interacting to the presence of the military in their town or with each other. But I often find that as soon as I point the camera, I either become the center of attention or my young subjects turn and run away.

A young girl carrying a baby, as she went to the town’s well to get water, kept a watchful eye on my camera, while pumping water as her friend stared. Groups of children, earlier pointing and laughing, immediately turned and hid behind a lamp post as soon as my camera was raised to my eye. The children waiting to pick up the spent bullet casings after a small firefight were not at all shy of the noise of machine guns and sniper rifles, but they instantly look down or cover their faces when a camera appears. It is a fascinating fact of life here; these children understand better and are more comfortable with guns than with a camera.

Except one. Granted, there are plenty of children who will wave or smile or pose if they do not run when the camera is pointing at them. But, one small boy I saw only minutes after a firefight with insurgents on a ridge above his home didn’t seem to see me at all. He caught my eye as I stood near Lieutenant Kenneth Rowe as he spoke with village elders working to improve the relationship between that town and both the U.S. and Afghan National Army soldiers who would be defending it.

Out of the corner of my eye I was drawn to a small boy dressed in blue climbing over the wall leading from his home to the street. I raised my camera to take a photo as he jumped down from the top of the wall. He moved differently, acted differently. He did not stand and stare or walk up to one of the several groups of children that surrounded him but he walked straight and quickly to a small hole and sat down. I saw he had a swollen eye. I took several photographs as he looked and acted so different to the other children who he seemed not to want to interact with.

He obviously preferred his own company to that of those around him. After sitting, he began to place used MRE bags upon his feet to use as impromptu shoes. It was a striking image to me. It was most definitely different, but more than that he still didn’t cast a look in my direction. Once his shoes were on he began to play by rolling marbles out of his shirt into the dirt, picking them up to roll them into the dirt again. He watched the soldiers for a bit and seemed to go out of his way to stay out of the other children’s way as they walked past. I wondered if he were a street orphan and whether or not he had a home. I had no idea how to ask. And even though he seemed to not have many friends, he didn’t seem anything other than happy to be out and about.

As I turned my attention back towards the elders speaking with Lieutenant Rowe the boy began to stand and I noticed his rope belt had come loose and his pants had fallen down. Some of the other children teased him and laughed and he ran to the wall he had originally climbed over to toss his MRE bags back over. Now, with bare feet, he walked back towards us holding his pants up with his hands.

He scampered down an embankment to the road and made his way towards the village elders speaking with the soldiers. He walked right up to one of them and tapped him on the shoulder. Without missing a beat of conversation the man turned to tie his belt giving the boy a loving smile as if this was something that happens all the time. With that the boy ran off, back to his yard and I didn’t see him again.

After the elders were finished with their discussion, I got the interpreter to ask the elder (the father) for the boy’s name. He replied “Shera Guden,” then explained how the boy was still recovering from a wasp sting near his eye. It made my day to know that this child had a father who took such good care of him. It reminded me that even in a war, where children think nothing of the presence of guns, bullets, and bombs that there still remains love. The Afghans are trying to make a life for themselves. I don’t see them being on either the USA’s side or the Taliban’s side, but as people caught in the middle of these opposing forces, trying to provide for their family as best they can. I hope that one day Shera will be able to tell his children stories of the American soldiers visiting, as he grows old and lives a long happy life.

Everyone knows that moving into an office with a view is a sure sign of status at your job. If it’s a corner office with a view in two different directions you have managed to place yourself within the upper rungs of the corporate ladder. If your office has a 360 degree view of the financial capital of the world, New York City, you must be a legend. Or, you could be an ironworker putting together the iron skeleton of the new One World Trade in downtown Manhattan.

One World Trade, previously known as the Freedom Tower, has in the last several years quietly grown taller and taller. Today it stands a few stories below being the tallest building in New York City. It is still rising too, at a rather rapid rate and after visiting the top floor I met first hand the group of dedicated ironworkers who are piecing it together, one bolt at a time.

Their commute to work is as vertical as ours is horizontal. Because the interior of the building is not yet finished, the quickest way to get to their workplace is via several different elevator systems and a couple of steel ladders. One external freight elevator (running express for the beginning of the daily shift and at lunch hours) took us to the 39th floor where one must catch another elevator that took us to within a couple stories of the top of the building. In this case it took us to roughly the 90th floor. Here we left the elevators behind and took two open steel ladders to the 92nd and 93rd floors where the steel skeleton of this building is being installed whenever the weather allows. One of these ladders is two stories tall and a little bit wobbly, it was climbing this ladder that I realized I am glad that I’m not afraid of heights.

On this clear Friday the weather on the ground was warm with a light breeze; up almost 1000 feet above the ground that small breeze was a little more intense and the temperature dropped accordingly. However, the view was incredible. At this height the building had risen far above any of its neighbors that either withstood or have risen since September 11, 2001. Unfortunately for the view, but for the very necessary reason of safety, there is plastic mesh surrounding these open floors to keep both workers and their equipment from falling off the side to cause chaos below. Even with this mesh the sense of height above the city is incredible and the view that you can see through the mesh is amazing.

Inside this mesh a few dozen iron workers work busily to connect the beams that make up the massive iron infrastructure of the building together. Two cranes, whose massive bases take up almost the entire interior of the building, work in unison to lift the massive steel beams into place and to help make the minute adjustments to these beams that will allow the bolts that hold them together to be placed. The workers seem to have the balance of gymnasts as they move back and forth on the beams to both guide the beams that hang from the cable of the crane and then to come and attach them to the existing framework with large bolts and pointed wrenches. Safety is an obvious necessity at this height and when working with such heavy materials. Every worker in the air seems to have a partner below who is constantly watching to make sure that things look okay and everyone is strapped up, in some way or another, to the beams they sit, walk or stand upon.

For me it was difficult to keep an eye on everything moving around all at once while photographing. The safety officers and representatives from the Port Authority who organized this trip helped to make sure that we did not stand below workers attaching bolts since we were standing two floors below them on the highest finished floor in the building. We also stayed away from the areas where the cranes were lifting and placing the steel beams and where the workers used ropes attached to the beams to guide them into place. The repercussions of being in the wrong place at the wrong time in that area were too dire for us to get near, mostly because no one wants to be in the way or to distract any of these workers while they move thousands of pounds of iron beams through the air.

It was a dream to photograph though. It was like a dance I didn’t know the steps to, but was mesmerizing to watch. Everything was as coordinated and precise as it could be when dealing with these beams. In the one hour we were able to spend up there it seemed as if half a dozen beams were attached. It was great watching one worker sit on top of a beam as he and another used a massive weight hanging from a crane to move the beam inches to the right so that the bolts would line up with the holes drilled for them. We were also lucky enough that one of the massive beams placed in the interior of the building to enhance the structural integrity was being guided into it’s final destination by an ironworker’s outstretched foot. It felt like another world to be up there.

The view, the height, and the magnitude of the building that these workers have built were all amazing to see firsthand. I took as many pictures as I could to try and show the difficulty of the work as well as the amazing visual scene it made when combined with the openness of the sky all around these men. It was exciting to take photographs that are now a part of the record of these workers and this building that they have built above the site known to most as “Ground Zero.” It was also exciting to see the inside of this building that is soon to become the highest in New York and will house thousands of workers in it’s future. I now feel connected to this building by seeing it’s skeleton, it’s hard iron soul, even though I was only there for an hour. I cannot imagine the pride and connection that the ironworkers must feel and I don’t think any of them are going to be able to keep a straight face when someone talks about “an office with a view.”

The inevitable has come to pass. Occupy Wall Street has been pulled, kicking and screaming, from Zuccotti Park, its physical home in lower Manhattan. For two months now the staff and freelance photographers of Reuters in New York have been documenting the evolution of both the idea of “occupying” and the physical campground that has planted the seeds of a global movement. Since September 17 there has been an almost daily visual record made of the metamorphosis that has taken place in Zuccotti Park. This is a man-made concrete block of a park. I must have walked through it dozens of times but it formerly had little use to anyone other than maybe offering a spot to rest while walking through lower Manhattan or a seat that could be used to enjoy lunch on a warm summer day. It took a group of demonstrators who were intent on “Occupying Wall Street” to give this park its day in the spotlight and as a photojournalist it has been fascinating to watch.

At first we had no idea how long the demonstrators would stay. In the early weeks they slept on cardboard pads on the ground in sleeping bags. In the beginning we documented them asleep as office workers gingerly stepped through them on their way to work. At first the NYPD would resist the attempts of the campers to attach tarps to trees, lines holding tarps would be cut, structures would be taken down almost as soon as they were raised and people slept underneath plastic to shield themselves from the rain.

The seemingly haphazard layout, centered by an ever-evolving kitchen area, changed to include more specialized sections that were ringed by campers who claimed any open bench or ground space that was not already ‘occupied’ by someone else. A deadline to evict the movement came and passed. I was there that night. Jessica Rinaldi arrived at midnight and I followed in the wee hours of the morning to document a massing of support for the movement in the park in the face of an impending NYPD eviction that never came. We documented the elation of the demonstrators as they marched through lower Manhattan and resisted the attempts of the NYPD to contain their physical presence. Tents came, and were allowed to remain. The campground morphed into a small town complete with covered areas for congregating and planning. “Working groups” managed the planning, cooking, and met to come up with when and what to do for future demonstrations, they came together to think or brainstorm how to reach out to help the movement grow.

This was not a passing demonstration. It was not planned and followed no script. News in New York is far too often so filtered and planned that it becomes nothing more than a public relations event. Emotions are often manufactured for the benefit of eager news cameras and reporters. Demonstrations are scheduled, permitted, scheduled, and planned all the time; this is the norm. Occupy Wall Street was the exception, it was an actual grassroots movement and it was amazing to document its evolution. We photographed as they marched onto Brooklyn Bridge to be arrested by the hundreds, we photographed as the first snow fall threatened their safety. We worked around certain members of the movement as they tired of the constant media presence and became angry, then hostile. We met others who realized that our job was merely to document what was happening, what this budding idea actually looked like. Who was taking part in it, and how the space was changing.

Last night we documented the end of the movement’s innocence. I was still awake at 1am when the calls worked their way through our reporters to my assignment editor Brendan. We didn’t talk much, all I remember him saying was “it is happening, Zuccotti is being raided.” I suppose deep down everyone knew it was coming at some point. Every time I went down I would stand with other photojournalists and we would wonder how it would come. After the first scheduled eviction was quashed by sheer numbers we knew it would not be announced and precautions were taken to hand out contact information to the campers.

We wondered if it would come during bad weather, when it would be difficult for people to stay because of rain or cold. We figured it would happen at night and we figured it would be quick so as I ran out of the house towards the subway I took advantage of a cab returning to Manhattan to cross the river quickly. Speed was the most important thing. I needed to get there before it was sealed off. As the cab wound its way through the deserted early morning streets of lower Manhattan I got out only two blocks from the park and already I saw I was too late. I had no clue what was happening in the park but already there was a security line across Broadway preventing anyone, press pass or not, from moving closer.

I used a cab to get through the first line, getting out on the sidewalk surrounding the park. I attempted to walk past the line of officers that had formed but hands were raised immediately and with a curt “the park is closed” I realized my options were limited. I tried to walk around but was surrounded and asked to leave, I was told that if I pushed into the park my press pass would be removed. It would be a long night, I would most likely need my press pass and I did not want to end my ability to photograph the inevitable friction that was sure to come as sleepy demonstrators regrouped from carrying their things from the park in an attempt to avoid arrest.

I walked the perimeter with two other photographers attempting to get an angle on the police allowing campers a peaceful exit. The north was closed off. We tried the east, it was barricaded off a block away. I photographed demonstrators carrying a guitar and plastic bins of belongings out, we ran to the south and met another barricade where an occupier was dragging his tent down the street. We ran to the west where demonstrators were screaming at police as they disassembled tents and escorted campers out of the park. I contacted my colleague Andrew and attempted to coordinate our coverage so we covered as much ground as possible. I would go south and west and he would go north and east but we would both try to find the inevitable point where the demonstrators would gather to regroup.

That point would ultimately be on Broadway, to the south of the park. On the same street, and almost at the exact point where they had entered the street in defiance of the NYPD and in elation that the previous eviction had failed the movement grouped and began to chant and scream at the line of police. As a large truck, assumed to contain their belongings, attempted to exit the park they rushed the opening in the barricades that the police had made. A push was met by a counter push and as the demonstrators screamed they were pushed back to maintain the barrier, to replace the metal gates. The truck backed off and went to find another way out. It was a small victory, and in the end relatively meaningless but Sade Adona and those around her had screamed and fought and in that moment they had won.

With the truck gone I knew the source of the rise in friction was gone. I left Andrew to watch the situation as I ran to transmit from the street. It is always funny to sit on the ground in the middle of a story and break out the laptop to send pictures. Now days I usually get scooped by camera phones, Twitter, instagram, Facebook, and any number of other social media outlets but I still love transmitting as fast as possible and this had been an emotional standoff. That first batch had the campers dragging their belongings, the emotional confrontations I had seen and images of the police standing and blocking access to the park. From what I had seen, those were the pieces of the story I could tell. I knew I was missing things but you always miss things, you cannot be everywhere all the time. Hopefully you have others who can get those angles and those sides, you can only tell the pieces of the story that you see and hopefully your instincts lead you to the important ones.

It was at this point I began to hear rumors of a press pen that had been set up with a view of the park. Time to move, again. The downside of a city’s grid system is that if the police set up their barriers at the end of a block you have to walk all the way around the other three sides to get just a few dozen feet from where you started. Another walk to another police checkpoint but miraculously our press passes allowed us to pass through and stand behind barricades that had been placed to the west of the park. It was a rush to photograph the swam of sanitation workers and men in orange vests that were descending on the piles of tents, tarps, belongings, pallets, blankets, and anything else that had been piled up in the park. Trash trucks backed up to be filled and drove off after only a few minutes. Men descended on piles of detritus to clear the ground that was then swept before the next group would power wash it. It was efficient and it was striking to actually see the park. To see the concrete ground that had been completely covered by tents and tarps and made into a little makeshift town in the middle of this massive city was striking. I had forgotten what it looked like.

Time to transmit again, this was another part of the story. I had to move fast, I again heard rumors of demonstrators massing in an attempt to break through police lines in order to return to the park. It was time to move, again. We went north this time, the rumors were that the movement had regrouped at Foley Square and were marching south to break through. We arrived to see only a few dozen protesters rather angrily arguing with the police over who was and was not allowed on the sidewalks. It was here that I witnessed an odd, yet very strangely effective tactic, by the NYPD. After the initial shoving and grabbing to create a buffer the police would simply move in tandem in large numbers down the sidewalk. They would stop obviously shoving or grabbing people but would simply march in overwhelming numbers down the sidewalk and in the street.

Previously they would have cleared the street and bottled everyone on the sidewalk then let things simmer until they calmed down. This new tactic was simply to march unruly demonstrators down the sidewalk a few blocks so that they were more spread out. It was surprisingly effective even though we journalists bristled at being told we could not remain on an open sidewalk. That was the odd thing, if you walked ahead of them enough and crossed the street you could go back to the area you had just been cleared of. It wasn’t a full movement of the defined borders but it was a push out so that the demonstrators were spread out. Once the police stopped an argument that broke out between two demonstrators over who was “more Irish.” This was easily one of those “what the heck is going on here” moments but it had nothing to do with the story so it was time to move again.

Once they used this tactic to the north it became apparent that it could also happen to the south where the bigger group had been. When we reached the scene had changed quite a bit. I left a few dozen demonstrators who were facing the police and chanting. I returned to see hundreds of people climbing over police cars, flattening the tires, people had climbed a street sign and there was a couple standing on top of a telephone booth kissing. At this point I saw a number of photojournalists arguing with demonstrators who were angry at the media. I am not sure why but they were being very vocal and even getting physical. For some reason they did not want media around even though most of their fellow demonstrators did. The police began a spearhead push into the middle of the street. They announced that they were going to clear the street and began shouting for people to “get on the sidewalk” and used batons to shove groups of protesters through the parked cars to the sidewalk. There was lots of arguing, lots of yelling and lots of pushing from both sides at this point.

It’s pretty difficult to get good pictures in these situations even during the day much less at 5 in the morning. It’s hectic, it’s crowded, and it’s often very muddled. The sidewalk march started up again on the east side of Broadway and in moments that side of the street had been moved back an extra block or two. I ran ahead and crossed the street to get back to the west side of the street where demonstrators were still congregating. Almost immediately as I got back I saw a piece of wood tossed over peoples heads and into the police in the street. I ran to get into position as police pushed from the street into the crowd. I saw a rush and an officer in a white shirt who I later identified as Lieutenant Hayward grabbed onto the shirt of Brent Schmidt and shoved him into a fence. I have to admit that I did not see the initial meeting of these two but by the time I saw them against the fence Hayward had a baton out and delivered a couple of very hard swings with it to the side of Schmidt as he attempted to shield himself and avoid the strikes. Hayward was quickly pushed back by regular officers as they pulled Schmidt off the fence and put him on the ground to handcuff him and detain him. I say detain because only minutes later as I was walking down the street after things had calmed down considerably I saw him sitting on the steps of a building and grabbed his name as I had to run back to the park to photograph teams of workers power wash the ground.

This was where things ended. I photographed and transmitted some power washing pictures before leaving to recharge my dead phone and dying computer. The coffee shop where I had sat to transmit numerous times in the past several months seemed much less crowded. As I packed my things to go home I reflected on the fact that most of the people walking past the windows were only going to see the before and after of this night. That is what we are for. Without journalists there to record, the majority of people will only see the before and the after. We are there to fill in that middle area, the things that happen while you are asleep or watching your favorite TV show. I am not one of those journalists who thinks that what we do can change the world but I do know that what we do fills in that middle zone between the before and the after that the vast majority of people don’t usually see. Who wants to be running around getting yelled at by both police and demonstrators trying to take pictures in the dark? I do, for me it’s exciting to BE there and it’s great when it’s a story that is organic and evolving and more than anything, real. I think this movement will recover and perhaps this loss will push the “Occupy” movement to the next level. After all sometimes it’s just time to quit playing house and bring your game into the real world.

When we want to see what famous people look like all we have to do is sit down at a computer or TV and we can find out more than we ever really needed to know. We can find out what they look like, where they eat, who they are dating, who they are not dating, or even what they did last night.

With all this information out there why do wax figures of famous people still have the ability to draw us in?

Personally, I don’t know, although the robust line to take a photograph with Captain Jack Sparrow was probably a pretty good clue. I hadn’t thought much about it until Reuters television producer Alicia Powell called me to ask if we were interested in doing a picture package along with a television package on how these figures are made. The pictures department agreed that it was a rare chance to cover the process and we agreed that it could make a nice package.

I was curious to see how they manage to make such realistic likenesses of everyone from famous despots to the latest and greatest in Hollywood glitterati. The process is quite detail-oriented and unbelievably thorough. We met with producers from Anderson Cooper’s new daytime talk show, Anderson, and the people from Madame Tussauds in a hotel room in New York in June. At first glance it looked like pretty much every other hotel room I have been in for press availability portraits; the off-white satin covered walls, big gold curtains, windows with a fascinating view, and lots of really nice wooden furniture was all par for the course.

Then I noticed the box of eyeballs. Nothing says unusual situation like a box full of dozens of unblinking blue eyeballs staring at you. It was here that I realized just how thorough this process was and that I was going to be in for a little more than the half an hour I imagined this would take.

Anderson arrived and after introductions the process began almost immediately. The crew from Tussauds, consisting of a sculptor, a company representative who assisted in the measuring, and a photographer, along with assorted helpers, began working right away.

One of the first tasks at hand was looking through the aforementioned eyeballs to choose a pair that would stand up to what is commonly known as one of Cooper’s finer physical traits. This was followed by the matching of details like teeth and hair by comparing them to dozens of samples that the crew had brought with them. A relatively simple task and one that Anderson seemed to quite enjoy as he held up eyeballs pointed in odd directions in front of his own peepers.

Once the sample matching was over it was time to get down to brass tacks. Cooper was placed upon a revolving circular disc that was on the ground and was photographed from every angle as he rotated around multiple times. The crew then made measurements of particulars like height, length of individual leg segments, arm segments, feet, hands, wingspan, chest, waist; I don’t even remember what else.

Once the big measurements were made the Tussauds crew had Anderson sit and they marked roughly a dozen small dots on his face with which to make more detailed measurements. The distances between these were measured with massive calipers that looked fairly frightening but were actually designed to measure the distance from Anderson’s nose to his cheekbone, his eyebrow to his chin, his forehead to his ear, his… well you get the picture.

There are a LOT of measurements that go into this process. I kind of lost track of time at this point as I was working hard to get the right image with the calipers in it. It is rare to have large menacing metallic objects near my subjects face (I know, boring!) so I was probably a little over-excited about the possibilities. In fact, it was probably around an hour later when it became time for Anderson to make his hand imprint, sign a signature, then head off for work.

The manufacture of the figure took over three months from the measuring of Anderson to the point where he would see it for the first time. Reuters managed to coordinate with Tussauds in London and photographer Toby Melville was able to document the final coloring and painting of his face that would give the figure its lifelike ‘skin’ before the unveiling in New York.

Fortunately, the Reuters television crew and myself were able to come to a taping of his talk show, Anderson, and photograph the unveiling of the statue for the first time. Anderson looked quite amazed by the three dimensional mirror image that stood staring back at him after the raising of the curtain. It was a rare moment of genuine emotion that I was happy to have captured.

It was amusing watching him prod the statue while declaring over and over how odd it was to be staring at a three dimensional copy of yourself. I suppose it’s this tactile ability to compare oneself to the personalities you see all over media that maintains the allure of Tussauds wax figures. You can watch as much video of your favorite star as you want but it is only thanks to this still thriving art that you can literally stand next to them all while on a trip to a wax museum.

When our photo staff began to plan for the tenth anniversary of the September 11 attacks, it was difficult to know where coverage should begin. The first story that came to mind is how Ground Zero has changed. It has been remarkable to watch the buildings being constructed. Not only have we seen them rise above ground level, but slowly surpass the height of every other building in lower Manhattan. Colleagues of mine have done a wonderful job of documenting the evolution of the site and the reactions of those around it, but while that might be the most obvious story to tell, it was not the most profound change that I feel has taken place in New York since the attacks. For me, the most significant modification is that security has become omnipresent in the city.

Security has emerged as a fact of life here. When we fly we have to take off our shoes and throw away our water bottles. Every commercial building in New York has a security team and identification is required to get to work. The speakers in the subway system continually remind us that “if you see something, say something” and photographing a building that lies in full view of the public is considered a suspicious activity. While this all might seem like an Orwellian society in which “Big Brother” is constantly looking down upon us, it is necessary to remember that New York has been the target of two major successful attacks, one foiled attack, and unknown numbers of prevented attacks since the first World Trade Center bombing in 1993.

The most visual way to show this shift in New York’s security is to document the New York Police Department’s (NYPD) counter terrorism units. According to their website, the Counter Terrorism Bureau of the NYPD was created by Police Commissioner Ray Kelly in 2002 as a direct response to the realization that the city could not rely solely on the federal government for the safety of it’s citizens. The department’s counter terrorism units are the result of the NYPD’s evolution from being a purely domestic reactionary police force to their current manifestation as the primary preventative law enforcement agency for New York City. While the average New Yorker has seen a gradual change in how the department operates since September 11, what is different may not be readily apparent. This photo essay is an attempt to show the many tasks that this section of the NYPD performs in their effort to safeguard the city.

The Critical Response Vehicle (CRV) deployments and Hercules teams were both begun by the NYPD almost immediately after the attacks of September 11. They remain an active part of the counter terror regimen today. A CRV deployment consists of dozens of patrol cars flashing their lights while driving through predetermined routes in the city. Officers from each borough come together to plan the deployment beforehand and the entire operation is often seen driving through highly trafficked areas.

The Hercules teams are one of the most strikingly visual units in the NYPD. These teams consist of an intelligence officer, a canine unit, a highway patrol unit and a small squad of heavily armed police officers who travel throughout the city. They are meant to work as both a method of keeping the teams prepared in case of an emergency and as a visual reminder that the NYPD is present and prepared for the worst case scenario. The locations that the CRV and Hercules teams visit can be randomly selected or, in some cases, specifically chosen because of intelligence that the department has about potential threats. The public’s reaction to these units ranges from being alarmed to feeling comforted by their presence to wondering “which celebrity is shopping in Whole Foods?”

In order to protect the roughly five million daily commuters who utilize the New York subway, the NYPD has activated a number of strategies to safeguard a system seen as particularly vulnerable since the bombings in London and Madrid.

Teams of officers randomly perform Transit Order Maintenance Sweeps (TOMS) in which every car on a train is checked for suspicious activity or packages by a team of officers coordinating with the subway personnel. Transit Operation Response Canine Heavy weapons units work throughout the system as the highly visible subterranean version of the Hercules teams. Teams of NYPD officers are also routinely tasked with working at controversial bag checking stations which randomly select members of the public in order to use portable explosive detection machines on their baggage. All of these activities are spread throughout the system and deployed either randomly or when intelligence deems extra protection could be required.

In a direct response to the attacks on Mumbai in 2008, Police Commissioner Ray Kelly deemed it necessary to have a larger pool of NYPD personnel trained in urban assault tactics. The decision was made that highly trained Emergency Service Units (ESU) would need additional help if there were concurrent attacks at several different locations within the city. Officers from the Organized Crime Control Bureau (OCCB) were chosen to receive additional training in the event of a coordinated attack on multiple locations and are routinely trained by ESU units at a specially designed training facility in the city.

Recently, as a response to the threat of a dirty bomb, the NYPD updated their methods of detecting unusual levels of radiation by combining their radiation monitoring systems and GPS mapping. This allows officers to know whether or not certain signals are irregular or part of the normal city environment providing a more accurate defense against this type of threat. The hardware used in detection is routinely deployed in NYPD helicopters and on two specialized vessels that carry counter terror personnel while working with Harbor Patrol in New York Harbor.

Lastly, the department has in recent years worked very hard to increase their ability to monitor large areas of midtown and lower Manhattan with electronic video surveillance. The official term for this system and the officers tasked to monitor it is the Lower Manhattan Security Initiative. This ability for the NYPD to keep a watchful eye over highly trafficked or financially important areas is considered an important addition to the department’s more traditional assets.

At the center of these adaptations is Police Commissioner Ray Kelly who has been at the helm of the NYPD since 2002. Kelly created the Counter Terror bureau and according to the NYPD has established a departmental presence in eleven foreign countries and within organizations like the New Scotland Yard and Interpol. The NYPD is the only municipal police department in the United States to have this global reach. There is an upward flow of information from local police officers, intelligence officers tasked specifically with gathering information, the FBI and CIA directly to the Commissioner’s office. This emphasis of shared information and direct communication has been an anchor in the modifications made to the NYPD since September 11, 2001.

For residents of New York City the presence of these NYPD Counter Terrorism units can trigger emotions that range from creating alarm or anger to bringing a sense of safety and comfort. Regardless of the emotion it provokes the simple fact remains that the NYPD is constantly adapting and updating themselves to prevent and respond effectively to an attack or large-scale emergency. My hope is that this essay stands as a window into their world. It is my attempt to show the NYPD’s exertion and preparation that is part of protecting the citizens of New York City.

(View a slideshow of images here)

The Arctic Ocean in March is basically an ocean of ice. Almost the entire thing is covered from October to June in an icepack that only partially disappears in the summer and is still very solid in March.

Why would anyone in their right mind volunteer to spend a month to a month in a half in temperatures that usually don’t exceed -10 degrees Fahrenheit or -23 degrees Celsius? In the case of the roughly two dozen souls who work either for the British, Canadian and United States Navy or the Arctic Physics Laboratory Ice Station, it is because there is work to be done.

And the first piece of work is to physically build the camp. To do this, firstly a piece of “multi-year” ice must be found, that means that it is thick enough (theoretically) that it won’t split in half and will support the weight of a camp while having enough room for an airplane runway and helicopter landing pad. Next, these folks need to load an antique airplane with enough plywood and nails to build a half a dozen un-insulated boxes to live in, this usually takes about 3 days as the workers must fly back to their base at Prudhoe Bay each evening to avoid the -30 to -50 degree temperatures until they build enough shelters to house them all.

Over the course of roughly a week the camp actually morphs into something of an oasis of civility surrounded by an ocean of ice that is continuously floating around on the Arctic Ocean as it is driven by the prevailing wind of the day. The huts are heated by jet fuel and become quite cozy while a large tent is erected for cooking and eating. All this to support a command center that communicates with two nuclear submarines below the ice. The camp is a support base for the U.S. Navy and exists to understand how best submarines, sonar systems, and underwater communications can work in such a harsh environment.

We were approached by Navy and research center to come up and do a story about this camp and the work they do with U.S. Navy submarines. When I was asked if this was something I would be interested in, I of course said yes. Who wouldn’t like to go to the Arctic, sleep in a plywood hutch, and go underneath the ice in a nuclear submarine? Thus began the mad rush to prepare for a trip into some of the most extreme conditions I have ever worked in. It was a rush to organize all of the base layers, fleece layers, wool socks, jackets, insulated pants, and other assorted necessaries before sitting down to pack the equipment I would need. Camera-wise I wanted to be prepared for anything; from wide angle images of the ice-pack to photographing a polar bear from a comfortable distance (in the off-chance that I actually saw one, they are rare to see this time of year.) I sat down and assembled the kit into my backpack, including three cameras, five lenses and assorted batteries, memory cards and chargers.

I managed to cram all of this into one daypack, one larger backpack, and a carrying case for the 500mm so that I only had to check one bag and all of my equipment would be carry-on so if anything was lost en-route I would still be able to work. The plan was for a reporter and I to fly to Prudhoe Bay on the northern coast of Alaska, meet up with the people who deal with the logistics for this operation then fly on a small plane to the camp itself which is located about 100 miles north of Prudhoe Bay. When meeting the logistics folks we were given our “Arctic Gear” which consisted of large insulated bib pants, massive jackets with fur lined hoods, heavily insulated boots, more wool socks, another base layer, more fleece layers, gloves, glove liners, and oodles of hand warmers and toe warmers.

On the flight to the camp I was amazed how there can be nothing for hundreds and hundreds of miles but sheets of ice only rarely punctuated by cracks where seawater can be seen steaming through into the frigid air. The only thing that broke up the monotone landscape was the camp and as we approached I saw for the first time the small collection of wooden huts and a couple of tents that this band of souls were calling home for a little over a month. I had entered another world. I have spent a lot of time in the snow and in cold weather but little had prepared me for this place.

Flat and white, the ice stretched out in every direction as far as the eye can see, the camp was as foreign to me as anything I have ever seen. It was difficult for me to process what to even photograph and how to get images that even began to show what life was like here. I couldn’t seem to fit the immenseness of the place into my camera’s frame no matter how hard I tried. I photographed the hutches, mess tent (complete with outdoor, open air freezer), researchers working, and a trip to “mine” ice for fresh water but none of them seemed to capture what the place was like; it was frustrating.

I was working my butt off and exhausted as much from running around and photographing everything I could as from the freezing cold and multiple layers that I had to work with. My breath froze to my beard and the back of my cameras were colder than ice and had formed a sheet of ice that my nose stuck to when I brought the camera to my eye. I also came to realize that at a certain point, after a few hours outside, my 5DMKII’s auto focus would stop working due to the cold.

The worst issues though were that if I went inside a tent my cameras would instantly fog up due to condensation that would get on the lens, inside the lens, and all over the back of the camera. I had to make sure that if I was going inside for less than 30 minutes or so I had to leave my cameras outside in the cold or place them inside my bag zipped up near a heater until they were the same temperature as the room. I also had to place chemical feet warmers on the batteries of my camera to keep them a little warmer because without some warmth they would die in 30 minutes to an hour. I placed 3 to 4 hand warmers in one of my pockets with the extra batteries so that they would be fresh when the ones in the camera died.

It was a challenging environment but it was also beautiful and after looking back on the photos a couple of times I realized that when I was just taking a photo for myself of the flatness or immensity I was actually capturing a good slice of what it is like. I looked through all of my take and found roughly a dozen of these frames that I had ignored earlier and put them together to make a collection of landscapes that I felt actually did a good job of showing that the only thing discerning in this landscape is the subtle variations of the wind on the snow or the different shapes of ice chunks forced up when giant ice sheets grind together.

On day two we were flown via helicopter to watch the Seawolf class submarine USS Connecticut force it’s way through 3-4ft of ice to pick up the Secretary of the Navy and a congressional delegation that had flown up to inspect the Arctic project. We waited for several hours on an ice sheet and then it happened so quickly it was almost an anti-climax until you remember that you are staring at the sail of a nuclear submarine that has just pushed its way through three feet of solid ice.

The APLIS crew quickly began to use chainsaws to cut through the ice in order to open the hatch that the congressional delegation would enter through. Shortly after the surfacing we were flown to another submarine that had surfaced in shallower ice for our overnight trip. The USS New Hampshire is a Virginia class submarine, the newest class in the US Navy. I was immediately surprised at how much room is in these boats. I didn’t have to duck down too much and although the halls are narrow it is possible to pass by people in them. I had been told I would be crawling everywhere. The dive away from the ice was quite exciting as the boat went down at a very steep angle. I have spent a lot of time on boats and the feeling of sinking was one that I am wholly unused to. Other than the descent it was difficult to discern that we were even in the ocean since the ride was so smooth. An amazing dinner in the wardroom with the ship’s captain, CDR John McGunnigle, and a tour around the ship followed by several hours of wandering with an escort to photograph the different parts of the ship and some editing and it was bedtime at 3am!

The last day was a blur. In that one day we surfaced the submarine in a very narrow bit of open water (since the newer submarines have more delicate equipment they tend to not go through several feet of ice). Flew in a helicopter back to the ice camp, and flew in a small plane back to Prudhoe Bay. In roughly 60 hours on the ice I had slept a total of about 8-10 hours and taken a few thousand photographs of things that I will probably never see again. I had been warm most of the time (except my face), seen one small case of frostbite on someone else, seen 0 animals, and was told that at one point the spot I was laying on while on top of a submarine was exactly where the nuclear reactor was (I moved.) I met dozens of amazing people both at the ice camp and in the submarine. As I sit in my apartment now writing this it seems like a strange dream that this had actually happened, luckily I have my pictures to prove it.

Inside a U.S. Navy nuclear submarine as it surfaces through the ice pack of the Arctic Ocean. from Lucas Jackson on Vimeo.

New York is consistently touted as a cold, aggressive, and hectic city with no personal connections possible. A populace of hyper-efficient and emotionally starved citizens, or at least that’s what I had heard before I moved here.

I arrived in New York almost 4 years ago and immediately found these preconceptions to be mostly untrue, with an exception of the hyper-efficiency. The city forces you to interact, albeit most often very briefly, with thousands of fellow New Yorkers on a daily basis – on the trains, sidewalks, buses, and bike paths that keep the city humming with activity year-round. I have used public transportation ever since arriving in New York to work as a staff photographer for Reuters. This most often means taking the infamous New York City subway.

This subterranean method of transportation probably forces the most intimacy with total strangers of any in modern society. A morning rush hour commute has you standing fully pressed up against half a dozen people. Hundreds of commuters per subway car struggle not to notice each other and keep their ‘game face’ of indifference and impatience on. It is in this most public of settings that I notice some people feeling no shame or embarrassment in kissing, snuggling, holding hands, fighting, or hugging in full view of dozens of strangers. This unabashed intimacy with a loved one within the public setting of a subway car seemed crazy. But it immediately struck me as something interesting to photograph.

This collection of images did not begin as a “project” but quickly became a creative release for me. It has become something to do as I wait for the train home from work (I almost never shoot on the train going to work for some reason). In the beginning it was a chance for me simply to photograph without the limitations or barriers that I constantly deal with while working. It is pure creativity. The process allows me to capture genuine moments that happen so often in New York. I fully credit this project with pulling me out of a creative funk and allowing me to photograph as I wish I could everywhere.

Finding the subjects usually involves a combination of luck and being tuned in to something that most people ignore. I am one of those people who usually walks the length of the track to stand at the spot where the train will let me out right at my exit staircase. This is a skill honed by my hyper-efficient self, developed since I moved to New York.

Every once in awhile I walk past a couple who is oblivious to all but one another and I work to subtly try and find a good angle for an image. My favorite shots are when the platform is really crowded. The stark contrast between indifferent commuters and an engrossed couple often makes an interesting frame. Sometimes it is as simple as pointing my camera and snapping a couple of frames while they are too engrossed in each other to notice. And sometimes it requires a shot from a camera hanging at my hip or sitting in my lap.

I have honed my hip shooting skills by doing this project for over a year now but I often find the live-view capabilities of the newer cameras to be useful in a project like this. It’s good not only because it allows me to compose a photograph but also to fire the shutter with less noise. The 5DMKII is amazing at being virtually silent while allowing me to focus the lens – all without raising the camera to my eye.

To most people, an image is captured only when the camera is raised to the eye – a fact I take full advantage of as often as I can. When people are aware of a camera, they often lose the honesty in their body language or expression. The project is not meant to be anything other than a collection of moments that force the viewer to take a closer look at something that is often ignored. The kisses, the fights, the snuggling – all of it will likely be forgotten almost as soon as it happens. I doubt any of the subjects will even remember the experiences I have photographed. However, these images prove that even in the hustle and bustle of New York, there is time to love.

This portrait session came about because our entertainment reporter, Christine Kearney, noticed that one of the several PR pitches that came across her desk was a small event where Justin Bieber was going to give the winner of a contest a bouquet of flowers. Normally this isn’t a story that we would be interested in because it doesn’t have anything to do with any “larger picture” type of story. However, because it was Bieber, Christine decided she would ask for a few minutes to interview him. One of the hardest things for us to do is gain access because a lot of musicians, actors, or television personalities have very specific images that they want to project so access can be incredibly tight. This restriction to access can make my job difficult because as a photographer I would love the opportunity to document what these public figures lives are like on a day to day basis. The next best thing for me to get is a little one on one time with whoever allows it. Luckily, the PR officer said yes to both the request for a private interview and a quick portrait session, as long as I was low key and quick.

It was a hot day and hauling a large rolling suitcase around with a single set of strobes, along with my backpack full of camera equipment, was enough to make sure that I was panting by the time Christine and I arrived at a small non-descript flower shop in Lower Manhattan. As we walked in I was surprised to see only about a dozen people inside, a couple of television cameras, and one other still photographer. At most events where a celebrity as popular as Justin Bieber is attending there are dozens of photographers and television cameras. I was heartened to see that it would be a much smaller crowd for this. The woman organizing the event told me I could set up my lights in the back while a television station interviewed Justin. Once that was finished Christine could interview him while I moved my lights to the front of the shop where Bieber had to remain seated. I have to admit, I wish all of my portrait shoots could take place in flower shops because it was a welcome break from the usual portrait venue of a hotel room. Not only was the air conditioning on high but it smelled nice and flowery. I think this put everyone at ease as I didn’t have any issues whatsoever setting up my lights, moving them to the front room through a small crowd, or shooting a quick portrait.

As Christine was finishing her interview the organizer of the event came up to me and the other photographer to ask if we could both get our shots in the 3 minutes they had allotted for photos. I asked if we could get more time but Bieber was scheduled to be somewhere immediately following this event and the timing couldn’t be changed. I struck a deal with the other photographer that I could have the first minute and he could have the second and third as he was hired by the organizers of the event and needed multiple people, angles, promoters, etc in his photos. I knew that if other people crowded around Bieber it would be difficult to separate them in time and I just needed single photographs. Christine introduced me to Bieber and after mentioning that I had seen him perform a few months ago with a cast, I went to work.

I had been enjoying using two strip softboxes on my lights and I took several photos both of Bieber as a full-length, him leaning forward, and him standing and close to the lights – with the lights in a number of different configurations. I also took a handful with an 85mm f1.2 camera at ISO400 and 1/250th of a second. The rest were taken at ISO100, 1/200th of a second at either f11 or f9, depending on where he was standing. All in all I had a total of maybe 10 minutes to set up and plan what I was going to do and about 1 minute with the talent. It’s fairly par for the course in this line of work and while it is exhausting and stressful to only have that very limited amount of time, it is also fun when you make some strong photos. There is one horizontal frame in particular where he is leaning forward on his knees that I think turned out well.

In any case, it was fun and I am sure that thousands of teenage girls would have loved to have been there. He was a nice fellow and getting the access was great. Those two things are all I need to get a photo – I just wish those two stars could align more often!