Ask any photographer who they’re influenced by, or who their favorite photographers are, and chances are pretty good that they’ll list some of the titans of the genre: Henri Cartier-Bresson, William Eggleston, Ansel Adams, Bruce Davidson, Diane Arbus. Makes total sense; there’s a reason these photographers are seen as the epitome of the form.
Typically, people lavish praise on their favorite artists when they’re dead (just to be clear, Bruce Davidson is not dead). I decided that I want to acknowledge some of my favorite photographers, who are not only living, but who I also have the good fortune to know personally, even if only as acquaintances. I’m not trying to be too effusive or fawning here; just stating out loud to some photographers I respect greatly that I’m a fan.
Also, I was thinking about the way we consume photography today. Because of the sheer volume of photography being created, it has inevitably become a really thoughtless exercise in swiping and double-tapping to show surface-level appreciation for an image, so I’m doing this as an exercise in forcing myself to slow down and articulate why I consider these photographers some of my favorites.
If you’ve seen a poster for a superhero movie in the last 5-10 years, there’s a strong possibility that Clay Enos shot it. But that’s not all he does. I met Clay when we both worked at AOL’s internal media group way back in the early 2000s. I first fell in love with his work through his Street Studio project: a brutally simple idea, consisting of a white backdrop on a street corner, and an invitation to passersby to pose for a photo. That’s it. This project is inspired by the work of Richard Avedon, one of Clay’s favorite photographers. The project initially started in the five boroughs of New York City, but Clay eventually brought it across the country and the world. Taken as a whole, it connects the viewer instantly, and intimately to a huge cross-section of humans. One of the reasons I love this project so much, is because of my own shyness and inability to approach strangers on the street, much less connect with them the way Clay does.
Other things you should know about Clay: he's one of the least gear-obsessed photographers I've ever met. He once rode a Vespa from New York City to Vancouver, and then to Central America, documenting the state of sustainable food production along the way. And When not working as a still photographer on the set of a major film, he spends much of his time photographing and sharing the stories of coffee farmers in places like Eastern Congo, Rwanda and Guatemala.
When I think of Scott’s work, I think of impeccable technical execution coexisting with a kind of loose, artistic spontaneity that shouldn’t be possible. Scott’s also a perfectionist, and has impossibly high standards (whether we’re talking about his mixologist tendencies, or his love of Spanish jamón, or his preference of camera gear), and it’s clear that this also applies to his photography. He works relentlessly towards honing his craft. Aside from the high profile stuff he shoots at events like the iTunes Festival (some of which you’ve seen without realizing it, if you’re an Apple Music user), some of my favorite of his work is the spontaneous moments he captures in the streets of various cities late at night, and, of course, the fantastic images he makes with his family.
I worked with Lev when he was still working a 9-to-5 in the world of advertising, and I’ll always remember the day he came over and announced that he was quitting to go and be a wedding photographer. The idea of doing something like that still strikes fear deep into my core (I have some issues I need to work out), but I was really happy for him, and it has certainly worked out in his favor. His work stands out in a crowded field of me-too wedding photographers, whose work all seems based on the same playbook (and the same batch of Photoshop filters). It’s clear from his work that he connects intimately with the people he photographs; that he’s genuinely invested in helping them make lasting memories of one of the most important days of their lives. I really hate the generic, watered-down meaning the word “curate” has taken on in our modern usage, but Lev really does curate everything that’s included in (and excluded from) each frame he shoots — the framing, the shadows, the light — everything there is totally intentional.
These are a few of my favorite contemporary photographers that I also call friends (I picked three, but there are many more.) Who are some of yours? Go beyond double-tapping or liking, and let them know you dig their work.