Melissa Farlow is a documentary freelance photographer who regularly contributes to National Geographic magazine. Before magazine freelance, Farlow worked as a staff photographer for The Pittsburgh Press, and The Courier-Journal and Louisville Times. While in Louisville, she was an integral part of a team that won a Pulitzer Prize for photographic coverage of school desegregation. Farlow received journalism degrees from Indiana University and the University of Missouri where she also taught photojournalism. She lives in Sewickley, Pa. and Portland, Ore. with her husband, photographer Randy Olson. Their website can be viewed here.
Every photographer who enters a contest hopes his or her images are recognized. I can relate. Over the years, my photographs have won and lost in contests.
I have helped edit my husband, Randy Olson’s portfolio when he won magazine Photographer of the Year and another year for newspapers. On the other side of the fence, last year I judged both Pictures of the Year International as well as the College Photographer of the Year contests. With this year’s judging coming up soon, I wanted to give a bit of insight into the process.
A wildflower blooms in the Black Rock Desert as California costume designer Jeanne Lauren braves a sandstorm at Burning Man, the annual weeklong festival in northwestern Nevada’s National Conservation area. Beyond, Uncle Sam wheels along the vast playa (salt flat or dry lake bed), one of Earth’s flattest spots. Over 25,000 people create an instant city that celebrates art in a unique counter-culture experience. (Melissa Farlow, National Geographic)
Contests award compelling work. It is, however, subjective. Winning photographs are what a specific group of people agrees on during one particular day. The results might be different on another day with the same people. Other equally qualified judges might reward the same pictures or totally different ones. If this seems confusing, take a moment to analyze the process.
Each judge comes with a diverse background and varying ideas of what is important. The group must come to a consensus without an individual judge belaboring on insignificant differences and yet, determining the important time to stand up for their beliefs.
The judging process is grueling. Day after day, you sit for hours in a dark room watching images flash across a screen. It is stimulating. It is inspiring. It can also be painfully numbing. In any contest, there are a lot of “pretty good†pictures submitted that do not necessarily measure up to the impact of more powerful, well-composed, striking photographs.
One tries to be alert and maintain a fresh attitude to respond and select the best work. It is just the nature of contests—quiet, subtle photographs may go unnoticed.
Contests are a valid measure of quality work, but they are not the only standard. A great photograph stands the test of time. It is just as interesting later as when it is first viewed. Better yet, it is relevant and becomes more thought provoking. A successful photograph can be visually complex, or it may be compositionally simple having layers of intricacy within its meaning. I like to place judgment on the value of an image as to whether I can live with it hanging on my wall.
One great thing about contests is that even act of assembling your work for a given year helps you access what you actually accomplished. You can analyze where you have improved and where you need to work harder. Editing for a contest and watching your pictures in a judging can be a wake up call to face up to weaknesses and to celebrate and refine your strengths.
Watching or listening to a judging can be insightful, but it may also be disconcerting. Do not take it to heart if a judge makes a hurtful remark. I remember being crushed by words from a respected professional that dismissed a favorite photograph. Criticism in this context is not meant to be personal. Just remember we do not all respond to the same things in a picture. It does not mean they are wrong and you are right—or the opposite—all it means is that an honest opinion is given. You can still like the picture that does not win. It can be a reality check, however, to recognize that it may not be compelling to everyone.
Wild horses thunder across dry desert range lands in the summer heat in Nevada. A mythic symbol of freedom, more than 30,000 horses roam on public lands—half of them in Nevada. (Melissa Farlow, National Geographic)
I love the Portfolio category. It is complex and reveals much about the photographer’s skills. One cannot hide weaknesses in this part of the competition. Every component must be solid. A photographer must make tough editing choices. Style, content and diversity are all vital components. An entire portfolio may be eliminated by a few repetitive or ineffective images. In fact, you may be shocked to hear judges discuss the shortcomings instead of the strengths in a body of work as they determine who wins.
You may also be surprised that captions are so important. A photograph may be dismissed if there is no explanatory information to give further insight. Yes, a strong picture should speak for itself. But this is a journalism contest. It is a reminder to always make time to write informative and provocative information. And this is true beyond contests. Well-chosen words strengthen photographs.
Okay—soon the contest judging will be over, the results posted for another year. Study the images that DO win. Not to copy them—but to understand why they work. Is it a captivating moment? Is the composition layered? Is the meaning compelling?
If your work is recognized–Congratulations. I hope it opens a door for you to this challenging, competitive profession. Note of caution: many photographers have won prestigious contests. Some never again make an important picture. Do not rest on your laurels.
On the other hand, many successful photographers have NEVER won a contest. However, if you entered work, remember that NOT winning can be just as meaningful as winning. What is important is to have a good attitude and to learn from the experience.
Contests are a measure of the here and now. More important than the outcome are the questions one always needs to ask. Is your heart in your work? Do you have passion for this field? Journalism requires commitment. Whether you win or not, what is most important is if you are working on something meaningful to yourself.
-The website for the College Photographer of the Year.
-The website for the Pictures of the Year International.
