Hurricane Irene

Hurricane Irene is making its way North. It is a fairly quiet night. Minimal cars are out, few and are between are passing by. A solitary window is open, passing a cool breeze into the house. The rain drops are poetic and soft, not threatening in nature yet. The rain here in Massachusetts has not yet been as problematic as it has been else where in the country. The Atlantic coast has been taken a pounding the past few days as Irene makes its way up. The anticipation of the hurricanes severity has caused alarm and set in motion a series of closing and cancellations. Today we had a wedding. The rain was a huge factor in the events for the day and left us unable to produce 25% of what we had planned to. As photographers, we can control light, weather, well that isn't something we can really control, at all.

During the ride to the wedding there was a little bit of silence in the car. It was a sad day, a wedding on the "eve of Irene," as the voice on the radio was calling it. The silence gave me a moment to think about how as a photographer I am most concerned with telling a story through images. Due to a major logistical issue, I can not be where I would Luke to be, on the coast in the southern part of the Atlantic, between Virginia and South Carolina. Though in terms of the images I'd seek to produce, I wouldn't shun away from New York City, after all, it is the first time in the history of the city the sub ways have been closed. Regardless of my passion to share visual stories, I am land locked and unable to position myself where I'd prefer to be. As a visual narrator, I am fueled to share what I see by documenting the events I witness. I do not label myself as a documentary photographer, instead it is a role I step into when an event warrants a response to be captured and shared. This event, this soon to be event, hurricane Irene, is not the same situation as the tornado back on June 1st. It is just as sever and can be as deadly as a spontaneous twister that presents itself in a multi town devastation course.

I will be seeking refuge with my camera as I roam around documenting what happens. I have yet to make a single photo in response to Irene, but when the weather changes and the storm presents itself I will be poised with my finger on the shutter. All major news sand weather reports are saying the eye of the storm is going to pass right over our county, Western Mass.

With nearly every store already closed, the immediate threat of the storm has already made its mark, with only a fraction of the rain we are slotted to receive. Power has already been anticipated to be lost. Some communities are preparing for up to a week with this loss. In the event this shall happen, I hope to retain mobile connectivity so I can blog the events that happen. As I document the devastation occurring, I will have both my camera and my camera phone in full operation. Until then, I eagerly await the moments when I am needed to make image and tell the story of Irene's visit.

Be safe, be aware, and take caution. If you feel the pull, the allure to document any form of this storm, please be of the utmost cautious. As I reflect on the day and hearing my family discuss their plans for safety, there is one person not far from my thoughts, but far from the physical safety of home that I worry about. Within a few days a safe return will be made and things will go back to a more peaceful state of mind as the weather clears. Share your images and stories, but please, be safe in doing so.

As Professionals..

As I am getting things ready for a wedding tomorrow, I can't help but think of the phone call I received last Saturday while I was capturing an adult flag foot ball league. During a break, between teams, my phone rang. The number was unfamiliar and I didn't hesitate to answer. On the other end was a familiar voice. With a quick opening and inquisitive  joke about what I was doing that day, my friend started to explain that her friend, "the bride" was freaked out because the photographer she had booked had not been in contact with her, yet. It was the day of the wedding, a mere 3-4 hours away from the ceremony and she hadn't spoke with the photographer that day after making numerous calls. She was upset and feared the photographer was not going to show. My friend went on to explain that after numerous attempts to call and email the photographer throughout the week, they received no reply or response to the emails.

I began to ask my friend a few questions about the plans for the day so I could prepare myself for an emergency job. I was trying to build a mental itinerary to rescue the bride from a horrible disaster. After hearing enough details, the talk of money came next. I began with how much was put down, if all was paid up, and what was left. That would make a difference, in my opinion, as to how much I would charge. Even at a last minute booking, after someone taking payment and not showing, it would have been hard to ask someone to pay a second time for a service the first time they didn't even get. But, in saying that, I must also advise, I knew well before I received that call, the bride and groom were on a budget, which also influenced an idea for assisting. Never the less the money talk warranted the bride to complete the call, as my friend passed the phone over to her. I could hear in her voice a soft and sad tone, she wasn't crying, but I could hear the build up of tears ready to break free from the clouds her eyes undoubtedly puffed up. I asked a few detail questions to ease her into the subject of hiring someone last minute, per recommendation of our friend. A question I asked a few times, "are you really concerned that the photographer will not show," was asked in slightly different variations to see if she was in fact that scared and ready to book me. She was in fact scared and after hearing her say it, she answered a few more quick questions. I gave her a quote, a portion off the rate I normally charge and explained why. The bride said it sounded great and jist as I was ready to give full detail as to what she should expect from me, she broke in with a quick statement saying it looks like the photographer just called her back finally.

She said she would call me back in a few minutes and let me know what was going on. A few minutes later the bride called back and told me everything was ok and the photographer would be there for her start time. She was at that point upset and thanked me for my willingness to be there for her.  "I will never recommend her to anyone, referring to the photographer, and I will suggest you to anyone I know who needs a photographer." My friend took over the phone and said nearly the same thing as she too thanked me. I didn't get the last minute wedding, but I was ready to pick up where someone else's lack of professional attitude left off.

If you're a seasoned wedding photographer, you know how every couple is different and no two weddings are ever the same, even in the same venues. You also know how important it is to be there for your clients, to take their calls and listen to their needs and desires. In some instances a photographer can be like a therapist, we listen to their needs and sometimes the needs are part of a larger conversation in which a number of topics could be expressed. It is part of the job. We are their because they are hiring us, have hired us. They are seeking professionals to give them the best. Clients aren't seeking someone with a casual attitude or someone who doesn't know how to be attentive to the needs of the client. In some cases being more flexible than we'd like to, keeps them happy. A happy client will ensure growth and longevity in your business. A mad client will not only prevent your business from future work, it may even taint and tarnish what you've already built.

If you're young in your professional career as a photographer, being there for every call and responding to every email in a timely manner is a must. Sometimes we can't take a call, be it you're with a client, shooting, editing, or busy with something that you can't break free from, but how fast you respond matters. I've received calls at 10pm, I answer no matter what. If I receive an email at 10pm, I make sure that is the first thing on my agenda in the morning. Chances are that email you just got was the last thing a client did before calling it a night. It is priority to answer, but it can wait a few hours, that is unless it is an email asking for an immediate response, then that is a no brainer. I once assisted a photographer who said it very clearly and made complete sense out of this statement:  "You can be a good photographer and a bad business person, not being able to run a business, or you can be a good business person and be bad at making photographs. It's not easy to do both and its rare to find someone who is completely great at both." Having a professional attitude isn't something we are born with, it is learned over time, with practice, trial and error, and much needed development. Treat every client as if they are the most important persons in the world, because, well they are. When you are working for them, you're on their time and they are all that matters. Assuring them that this is how you value them, that they are important before their day, during their day, and after their day will make them happy. If you value your job, your business, then value your clients and show them that. Your clients are the sustenance and livelihood of your business, how you value them is a reflection of yourself.

From A Different Perspective

In a conversation with my business partner a few weeks back, we discussed some of the photography rules we learned when we were teenagers and just starting out. Rules we consciously choose to break now."Never shoot into direct sunlight." Well I'm sorry to say that rule is broken at least once daily, almost on every shoot or when a camera is out. As soon as I knew how the camera functioned and I knew what compositions would look like shooting into direct light, I began doing so.

On Tuesday evening, walking with a friend on the Charles River just before the Longfellow Bridge, on the Boston side, I had my phone out ready to make a few photos. Where was my real camera? Tucked away in my shoulder bag, slung across my back, batteries were dead. It happens sometimes when you're away and your spares are with the rest of your equipment and your one back up on you is dead.  *Note to self, hire new assistant.* Being a part of my career, street photography is ingrained in my fabric, like the 300 thread count sheets on my bed. It is a part of photography I would label, hobby. When not working for a client or traveling to work on a project, I make photographs in certain settings, landscapes, streets in relate-able places. Street photography is as much a lifestyle as it is a form of art. It is a way of connecting with people and place, a way of entering the world with a camera and communicating what you see and how you see it.

As a photographer I am always exploring and seeing how the world looks through a lens. I spend time looking for light and how it introduces itself into a multitude of settings. I love capturing both light and people in a composition that warrants a response similar to, "how did you see that, I was standing right there." Observing the world around us is such a simplistic idea once we learn to see past what is really in front, or in my case, to my side and then back.

As we were walking I was admiring the setting sun, as it began to lower over the Charles river. The golden hour of light was already in full swing. With a dead camera, per se, I took to my last resort, my phone. I was glad I introduced my phone to that moment, as it allowed me to capture this image. A young woman sitting on the edge of the wall over looking the sunset. She had her phone out and in between the photos she was making, she'd accidentally power herself. With her back towards me, she didn't realize that she was making a great portrait and image of herself by her posture and choice of location to rest on. Unobtrusivly, from the back I made a few photos. I stopped to admire the quality of light, and in doing so I was able to frame this woman into a great composition and make a photo that I was content with. I was happy, delighted in fact, I almost decided to tell her that as she was making a photo, she really sold the landscape and sunset. I decided not to say anything and accept how I felt the image would create a lasting impression.

Springfield Massachusetts

On Friday evening I took a drive back out to Springfield Mass with photographer and friend Justin Moreau. I chose to visit a location that I had been to on Thursday and earlier on Wednesday, just after the first tornado touched down. I went out again to continue documenting the area I had first went to. There was not nearly as many people out on Friday evening as there had been during the course of the day on Thursday. People it seemed, were not as curious as they had been with how strong of a coverage the media had been producing. By this time I also speculate that enough people had generated images to share and show for what had happened. The police and National Guard presence were deterrents for people trying to enter in some of the most devastated areas. The National Guard was politely re-directing people away from the scene, as many still tried to enter certain areas that were blocked off. Looting was a serious threat, and very well prevented by police efforts. Small attempts were still being made, as on misfortunate individual found out the hard way. After police pulled him over in the red zone, (area blocked off with red tape denoting serious damage), he proceeded to use his vehicle as a weapon. Police opened fire hitting the suspect.

It was acts like this that had officials and police concerned, among the crowds of individuals that came out to witness the scene, their safety was also a priority. One officer parked mid-way down on Main st was in his car using his speaker as a means to yield on comers with the phrase, "This is not a tourist attraction, turn around and leave now." They meant every word of it and were threatening arrest to those who did not listen. I managed to document some of the transitions and changes to the landscape. One of the most recognizable changes comes to the block and intersection of Main st and Union st.

From this panorama you can see the buildings have come down that were standing the day prior to this being made. The barrier had been pushed back as a preventative measure to ensure peoples safety, as groups of onlookers watched in horror, shock, and sadness as the cities landscape began to change. It was surreal and shocking to see the building down. On Wednesday, just moments after the tornado had struck, I stood in the middle of Main st, right next to the demolished building. I am no longer able to get close enough to produce an image that further shows the change in the landscape of the city. I will have to wait until the street becomes clear and city is back on track, which will take some time. Below is a second gallery from Friday evening.

Springfield Mass Aftermath II

Tornado in Springfield Mass: Photographs and words on the devastation.

I must apologize before you continue reading. This article was intended to be published using a blogging software that failed numerous times while trying to get the post published. This post was written the night of June 1st and the morning of June 2nd. Since then I have been back to the scene two more times and have also traveled to Wilbraham and Monson Mass. You can view a comprehensive gallery of images by visiting this link:

Photographs of Tornado Aftermath

On June 1st, like most days, my Droid chimed in with an alert from Facebook. It was my friend and owner of Western Ma Storm Chasers. He was sent me a message to warn me to be on alert. This was the kind of message that you do not want to ignore or not heed without a moment of consideration. I did not have time to respond and went about my day. Shortly after leaving a family members house I found myself driving to the studio to get my camera and some other gear to head out and capture some of the storm. I thought I would be capturing some lightning, like I had done so many times last summer, but I couldn't have been more wrong. I sent Chris from Storm Chasers a text saying I was on my way out. I received a response after grabbing my camera, ending a phone call, and making my way to my car. Granby, was what it read. So, taking his tip I headed towards Granby. 

The next call I received would alter the course of my afternoon and evening. Answering, it was a family member. There was an extended level of anxiety in her voice as she explained my grandmother called. "12 minutes ago a tornado touched down in Springfield. Are you in Springfield?" I was not. I was about 15 miles out of Springfield. I turned around and made my way back. Knowing that you are approaching an area that has just been afflicted by devastation is an ominous feeling. I had, at the time, no idea what I would be heading towards, driving into, or just how badly the storm had ravaged the city. Within minutes I was approaching the highway. I knew I had only a few more minutes until I would reach the city. I began to wonder where the tornado had come down, where should I go to find its path? What am I going to witness. Expecting the worst would allow me to enter the scene with less fear and be more resilient in capturing the aftermath.

The closer I came to an exit, the more I scanned the landscape to find debris and search for signs of damage. An ambulance was in front of me as we entered a dense patch of traffic. Their lights went on and they cut right on to the exit. I followed a head of them to see where they would be heading. That is where I saw the first tree down. More trees became visible, as they lined the street in a disarray that would command one to question what had just happened, if they other wise did not know. I threw my blinker one, jerked the car into the fire lane, just above the road that comes in across the Memorial Bridge from West Springfield, MA. I jumped out and made a my first photographs from atop the high way.

I got back into my car, kept the blinker on and sped down the fire lane to the first exit coming up. Finding the first parking lot, I sped past trees, branches, and debris from signs and light poles. I knew at that point, I was in the wake of a serious and very dangerous tornado. Parking, I grabbed my camera, some memory cards, spare batteries and headed out. I surveyed the damage that I was closest to. I just knew that there was something else to see. I didnt see any over turned cars, burning buildings, or much worse, (not to be described here). I set out to capture the destruction. I knew I would be down there, amongst the debris and devastation for a while, I was still trying to grapple with the fact this had occurred.

I navigated the landscape, crossing over branches, avoiding broken glass, dodging street signs and other building materials. The noise of car tires passing by created a lasting popping sound, as they slowly rolled over branches, leaves, and occasionally pieces of glass that were unavoidable. People on cellphones were frantically speaking to the receiver of the call, either acting as a compassionate and sympathetic ear to a scared voice speaking to them, or the voice of terror as they try and locate a loved one to validate their safety and where about s. The abundant amount of cellphone usage jammed up the lines, as I had trouble making calls. Witnesses, survivors, spectators, police, fire, EMT's and other safety works filled the streets. As I approached Main St, it had not yet been closed off. It was not known at the time that a gas leak was filling the block in a cloud of invisible disaster, awaiting to erupt in flames. As I maneuvered the crowds of people, I heard voices of terror, bragging their survival, anger, sounds of sadness and pain. There was a lot of confusions as groups of people walked back and forth, not knowing where to to and what to do. A young woman in charge of a group of students, youths, or troubled teens, (it was unclear as to which they were, as the group hesitated and gave sever resistance), demanded they follow her away from the area that was being leaked by gas, as a woman had lit a cigaret. With sheer disregard for herself and the well-being of the individuals around her, she began to smoke her cigaret and the young woman corralled her youths together and made for safe place.

A few of the above displayed images capture a sense of destruction. Some capture the human activity surrounding the event as it continued to unfold. One man, being told repeatedly by police officers not to duck under the yellow tape, did so any ways. Resisting the officer, he was unwilling and uncooperatively forced back from his position. Samuels, an establishment I had visited a few times was in the midsts of the chaos and the corner for a street closure. Police from both State and local units began to vacate the area, forcing people back for their safety. I say forcing, as people converged on the worst areas, not just as residents, tenants, building owners, but some as looters and spectators. Above you will find an image of young man attempting to enter a nail salon. Coerced back by his friends, he did not fully enter the building. Probably a smart move, as the police surrounded the area in a number that out-weighed the civilians onlooking.

Sitting in a wheel chair, a woman is sympathetically cared for as she embraces a man in an intimate connection, seeking comfort from the trauma she just survived. Every 3rd or 4th car occupying the streets or passing by suffered some sort of chaotic damage. At one point a woman in a white Toyota Camry nearly backed into me. With her rear window blown out, windshield cracked and a trunk she had to force closed, I was amazed she was so willing to drive away from the scene. The interior of a gym designed to train boxers, had its roof torn off. The ring, a bag, some treadmills, and clunky metal fans were exposed. The fan blades still spun with a threatening rattle, as electricity was still powering the building.

I made my way back over to Main st, where police increased their procedures for evacuating the area. "A second storm is coming, get to the Mass Mutual Center!" shouted the police. People ignored the warnings, to which they found an even greater resistance than their choice to continue forward. Officers had to eject a young man off his bicycle as he tried to pedal past them. His comeback to the officer, "I didnt have breaks." "Well that is your fault, now get out of here!" Responded the officer as he gave him a shove to be on his way. It was clear, very clear, that area was not to be entered and they didnt want people there, for their own safety. I made my way back as well, knowing I could not be as close any more as I would like to be.

Journalists, reporters, businessmen, men, women, children, animals, students going to prom, all found themselves being safely ushered into the Mass Mutual Center for their safety. It was an arena of high emotions as people walked around, disoriented and confused. The American Red Cross was still not yet on scene to provide assistance. I was stopped and questioned as to what I was doing with my camera. It is not at my discretion to fully explain the exchanged dialog. Moments later I vacated the building at my own liberty. I needed to get back to process the images and email them out. I needed some gas for my car and to hydrate myself. After jogging back to my car, I found a moment of salvation in sitting down. Now, now was a stressful moment, as I absolutely needed to refuel my car. This lead me to West Springfield, where, I had no idea, they had also been affected. There were down trees everywhere and it took me two gas stations and another city to find a source of fuel and liquid sustenance. A quick pit stop and I was on my way back to the studio. I got back, processed the images, sent them out in an email and made my way back to the scene.

Like the setting of a Hollywood film, that scene where an intense and dramatic action have taken place, Springfield looms in an apocalyptic emotion that resonates with anyone who walks on the tattered sidewalks. Around each corner, a new setting from the same movie, a scene from a tornado taking ownership over a city, each setting is devoid of its casting star, but in replacement are workers, safety personnel, police, fire and the National Guard.I spent nearly two hours walking around. Through it all, I was able to capture the anarchy that was dropped on Springfield. Just before I got back to my car, I made this last photograph. Crown Fried Chicken remained open through almost every moment of the events that took place on this typical Wednesday. As I was leaving though, the bars were starting to open up, but they had not been open while the most sever action was taking place.

This is a recount of my experience yesterday. (June 1st) As a professional photographer, I aimed to capture the scene to share and document. All photographs are copyright and can not be used without permission of myself. Please contact me if you would like to use any or all images within this article.

Day II Thursday June 2nd

On Thursday June 2nd I went out again to document the aftermath. This time I was accompanied by one of my friends, a professional shooter and colleague of sorts. We started in Springfield, walking block by block seeing the destruction in a new light. The clarity of the rain and storms had passed, leaving behind broken homes, tattered buildings, cars beyond repair, memories, sadness, tears, and a wake of destruction that will take some time to clean up. Each photograph I made both on the 1st and 2nd has words that correlate with it, but because of the software crashing, I can not just drop images in and expect them to sit properly in relation to the words. This severely reduces my initial text that I had written for the second piece, the second day documenting the chaotic clean up. I did find that sometimes one image couldn't convey the space or the sense of destruction that was incurred upon the city. Within the above linked gallery you will find a series of panorama photographs that convey a much greater sense of landscape and exhibit a more compelling and emotionally engaging sense how the city was left after the tornado passed.

I was also very interested in the human presence within the destroyed landscape. Hundreds of people convened upon the streets. Cell phones, psp gaming systems, laptops, digital cameras, point and shot cameras, any device that could record an image or video was being touted about. The devastating moment that had passed, left behind not only carnage, but the new need to witness capture what had happened. As many people as there were out with their cameras, there was almost that many media outlets on location doing live feeds. It was more than a surreal experience to walk through the streets of such a disaster. Occasionally a familiar face would surface in the crowd as we made our way through the streets.

As bad as Springfield is, in terms of destruction, other towns such as Wilbraham were hit just as bad, if not worse. We took a drive up and found just as much chaos as in Springfield. From viewing the link, you will be able to see just how bad it was. I am not sure if I will be out again tomorrow, or if I will wait a few days for the landscape to alter more as the clean up and building demos continue.

Re-visiting familiar places: Capturing the changes.

The last time I stood in this spot it was cold, snowing, and frozen over in a blizzard of New England furry. Today it is in the 70's and I have a few moments to enjoy an over-cast day while awaiting the arrival of a friend at Logan International Airport. The contrast in the weather and the holiday has brought a number of people to the sandy, low-tide shore of through Boston Harbor Walk. Families enjoyed walks on the beach, volley ball, and sitting and enjoying each others company. I used the opportunity, a brief moment, to capture the beauty of the day. I frequent this area when I am not shooting in Holyoke, or otherwise engaged in a project. It is a great area for making some wonderful street photographs and capturing the essence of moments at an urban beach setting. I've been contemplating a move to this area for its beauty and architecture. Whatever I decide, I will continue to visit.

Fire In Chicopee: 2nd Devestation in 2011

Before I begin my story, I would like to say thank you to all of the responding firefighters on Sunday's tragic loss. Thank you for your dedication. Some people punch in and sit behind a desk, a computer, a cash register, or a machine, you as firefighters punch in when the tones go off and put your all on the line, without question, for the lives of people you do not know, buildings you may have never been in for business you may never need. Your day starts when that call goes out for your help. Your day ends when the last piece of smoldering timber is put out and the scene is contained and safe. Thank you for protecting our community/s.

I had my phone on vibrate and didnt feel it go off when I was meandering around Target. It wasnt until I got in the car I had noticed a text screaming, get down to Sheridan St in Chicopee, there was a massive fire. Seconds later my conversation was interrupted by a call. I was about to make my way out of the car to get back into mine when I took the call. It was a friend, "get down here," is all I remember. I knew the location from the text and knew that if it was that bad, I would see smoke. I said goodbyes as I was fiddingling with attaching my lens to my camera and checking the amount of space on my card. Seconds later I was tearing through the parking lot to make my way to the scene. Fearing it was a house fire, once the smoke became visible, the thick, black bellowing smoke emanating from the scene gave way to the fear of a house fire and now had me wondering which business was going up. Black smoke is only produced something toxic, hazardous, chemical based, or product based is burning, oil usually. Tires, tires is what was stored in this building and tires will cause black smoke when burning, well rubber and plastic for that matter. Pulling into almost complete visibility, there were dozens of cars parked all over the street. Blocked off by the police, the cars were placed there by the onlookers that flocked towards the scene. Listening to the phone calls, people talking, and the general discussion, a good majority of the people there were employees of the business. Some were making calls in haste to warn people, joke with people, or to inform someone that their job loss was going to affect them in some sort of way. It was very sad to hear these stories as I splashed through puddles and stepped over hoses to make my way onto the scene. I began looking for "the spot," as I call it. That one pivotal place that will guarantee me the shots. The logistics of trees, buildings, and surrounding structures made it hard for me to find my place. But, I did. It wasnt easy, but after a few moments of searching, I ran down the side of a building and came right into view of the towering plume of smoke and flames. I began shooting, moving, shooting, taking position, and documenting what was happening. As I maneuvered around, a firefighter spotted me and yelled for my attention. He motioned for me to get out of the area. He meant it by the speed of his gesture and the tone of his voice. I complied and moved to the side. My phone rang again, it was the friend who called me. After a quick conversation and some confusion, we found each other. I brought him back to where I was standing and we began to both document the tragedy. A brief interaction with the Incident Commander and we were asked to step aside. By that point, I had what I needed and the most I could get now would be if the building took a turn for the worse and erupted in a display of debris and flames. Westover Firefighters were there assisting in the controlling of the blaze. It however was a total loss. The best that could be done would be to contain it and hope that nothing gave way and blew up. Out of fear of this, the state police began to control the crowd and push the onlookers away, which included me, twice.

No two fires are the same. There are always variables to account for, and with in reason, I keep a distance safe enough to be able to capture the action. I have been to numerous scenes and know my limits. Often times shooting for the media allows me to get close enough, but this time safety was put first. Below are some images I captured while on scene. Again, Chicopee was there working damn hard like they always do.

Update*

If you have already read the above section, that was a few hours before I had returned to see what the conditions of the blaze were like. It was dreadfully cold out. I stood next to another media photographer, in front of three news crews there to capture the post traumatic action. We discussed the scene and a few other things. After the news crews were doing interviewing the Incident Commander, he made his way over to us and invited us to come into the action take a closer position. I spent the next 40 or so minutes walking around documenting action as it took place. By this time the flames had been very well suppressed between water and foam, the firefighters really had the blaze controlled. Below are a photos I captured.

Copyright Jeffrey Byrnes Lenshare.com