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#flashHeader{visibility:visible !important;}Photo editors play a bigger role in photographers’ lives than just choosing their best pictures. Often, it’s an editor’s voice that photographers hear in the back of their mind, urging them to strive harder for the defining image. They become lifelong friends, confidants and mentors. They can become surrogate parents or siblings â€" and, as with most family members, there’s a good chance they’ll drive you nuts.
Today and tomorrow on Lens, photographers recall and pay tribute to the photo editors who most influenced their careers. The people who pushed, pulled and occasionally strong-armed them into producing exceptional work. The people who believed in them when nobody else did â€" who recognized the photographer’s strength and took the time to develop it.
The photo editors below rarely sought the spotlight. Most people will never know their names, and their contributions won’t be revealed by a simple Web search. Google “Avedon, the family†and you’ll see that this classic set of images of Washington’s power elite was made by Richard Avedon and published by Rolling Stone. Yet, the work of the photo editor Karen Mullarkey, who shepherded the entire project, is almost forgotten.
But not by those who made it.
Eric DraperMike Davis hired me to work for the Scripps Howard afternoon daily, The Albuquerque Tribune, in 1990. It was my third newspaper job since college and my first real photo editor. I learned more from Mike in two and a half years than I did in my entire early career. Every photo editing session with him was an intense experience. We would sit at the light table and Mike would look at the images, just breathing in and out, and without small talk. He taught me to shoot strong photo stories. I learned layout and design. And with Mike, no assignment was too small to learn something important.
In 1992, he handed me my most challenging assignment ever up to that point. While watching my hometown of Los Angeles burn on television after the Rodney King verdict, Mike called to send me “back to L.A. to tell a personal photo story.†It worked. We produced a 12-page special section called “Seeing Through the Flames.†It was a profound experience, and I also won Scripps Howard Newspaper Photographer of the Year.
In 2001, I became the chief White House photographer for President George W. Bush. I didn’t skip a beat in asking Mike to join the team as my photo editor. We worked closely on the images of the events of 9/11, and we traveled the world with the 43rd president. Mike made me a better photographer in the president’s first term, and I am grateful. I will never forget what he told me during those early years in Albuquerque: “Never underestimate yourself.†I never did.
Tina Hager, courtesy of the George W. Bush Presidential Library and Museum Chief White House photographer Eric Draper, left, with his senior White House photo editor Mike Davis inside Draper’s West Wing office in 2003.The late Carlo Mastricolo was the director of photography at The Boston Globe when I went to Somalia in 1992. My reporter, Wil Haygood, and I were held hostage by Said Hersi’s men in a remote, dusty little town called Bardera. We were taken on our first night there, on the first overseas trip of my career. After our release was negotiated by the U.N. and CARE, I was evacuated to Nairobi, Kenya. A couple days later, I realized I needed to finish the job I started and get back to Somalia. There was no way I was going to return to Boston without finishing the job.
I called Carlo in the middle of the night and told him I was going back, even if I went alone. He was the type of guy I could call any time of the day or night. He always took the time to listen and help me to problem solve. Carlo agreed with my decision but told me this was a problem I’d have to realize on my own. He then made sure I had the complete support and help of The Globe’s newsroom.
He always seemed to have more confidence in my ability than I had for myself. I was 29. He had my back. His confidence gave me the courage to go on to handle worldwide assignments under all types of working conditions. A great editor knows how to nurture a photographer’s talent and let them run with the ball. Carlo was the one who played the biggest part in defining my career. I’ll never forget that call I made from Nairobi. I remember it like it was yesterday.
Yunghi Kim A Somali man, scavenging for spilled grain, is caught in swirling dust kicked up by a relief plane taking off in the town of Bardera. 1992.I met Robert Pledge, the co-founder of Contact Press Images, in the summer of 1984. Within minutes I realized he was unlike any editor I’d met before.
Bob’s choices began with “the moment,†but equal weight was given to form, color, light and composition. His editing decisions were based on gut feelings more than anything else. Though I didn’t know it at the time, this is exactly how great photographers work, too. Both photographers and editors are always searching for an image which makes them feel as if they just found something that was lost.
Watching Bob, I realized one didn’t have to declare themselves an artist or craft elaborate statements to produce works of art. Better still, instead of being seen by a few people hanging on the wall of a gallery, the images produced by Contact’s photographers would be seen by millions in the pages of magazines.
Over the years, I’ve learned much from Bob. Regardless of my age, he’ll always be my mentor. I think that’s what brings him happiness, coaxing the best possible performance out of everyone he meets, which is in stark contrast to how editors work today.
The editor/coach is largely extinct. We now have the editor as curator â€" super-aggregators who don’t have the time or resources to invest in the development of individuals. Instead of cultivating talent, they grab images from the cheapest source. When they assign, they find the closest warm body or someone who is currently “hot.†This is unsustainable but also sad. We’ve lost, or discarded, our teachers and are quickly losing our ability to help good photographers become great.
Carol Guzy
Carol Guzy/The Washington Post Agim Shala, 2, is passed through a barbed wire fence into the hands of his grandparents at a refugee camp in Kukes, Albania, after fleeing Kosovo. Carol Guzy, with Michael Williamson and Lucian Perkins of The Washington Post, won the Pulitzer Prize for feature photography in 2000.Michel duCille has been an editor of indelible integrity, decency and a deep sense of humanity. Michel stood by me during the highlights and shadows of my life. We began our careers together as interns at The Miami Herald. His photography over the years embodied the concerned journalist, which carried over to his work in management.
He has been a fellow photojournalist, mentor, friend and supervisor. As an editor, there have been times I’ve certainly caused him to pull his hair out with my obsession (I prefer the word “dedicationâ€) to stay with a story far longer than he perhaps thought necessary. But even if we disagreed, it was done with respect. And many times, in the end, he trusted my instincts, which is such an invaluable trait in an editor â€" allowing me to follow my heart, resulting in compelling stories that evoked much reader response.
In a rare coincidence, Michel and I won our first Pulitzer together in Miami, and under his leadership The Washington Post was awarded a Pulitzer for coverage of the devastating Haitian earthquake, which I then shared with Michel’s wife Nikki Kahn. What are the odds of that?
Michel has always cared and had my back. Without his role as editor, many stories would not have been given the time and depth that I believe our subjects deserve. He is the consummate journalist and at the pinnacle of his craft. His ideals are what others could certainly strive for through his example of honesty, honor and grace.
Courtesy of Carol Guzy Carol Guzy, left, and Michel duCille.Looking back over one’s 50-year career, it is difficult to pinpoint a defining moment where it all came together. In fact, I doubt if such a moment exists. There were so many events and editors involved, and yet, if I had to single out a major force, it would be John G. Morris.
John was already famous from his associations with Life magazine and Magnum Photos. In the summer of 1969, as picture editor of The New York Times, he had reviewed my portfolio and asked me to return with a collection of contact sheets from various assignments. What better way to analyze a photographer’s approach to work? It’s still a brilliant idea.
With that, he tapped me on the shoulder in the wings and placed me on the stage of big-time photojournalism. I’ve never had a chance, until now, to look back.
My career spanned one half-century, and thanks to John I’ve traveled the world and witnessed history firsthand. I heard with my own ears the voices of Muhammad Ali and Nina Simone, of Martin Luther King and the king of rock ’n’ roll. I’ve met paupers, presidents and crooks. I’ve shaken hands with Nobel laureates and worked alongside Pulitzer Prize winners. I even have one of my own on a shelf at home. Not bad for a small-town boy from Calexico.
John definitely became a father figure to me, guiding me through some rough spots over the years, keeping me grounded. He was tough and he was fair. We have laughed, we have mourned and we have celebrated together all these years. His legend continues to grow with never-ending projects, and I am eternally grateful to him.
Librado Romero John G. Morris in 1969.In a photographer’s career, many individuals provide life-changing advice, assignments and jobs that move you along. Among them, for me, there has been one persistent voice: Jimmy Colton.
Jimmy and I grew up as Associated Press picture editor babies at the New York office. Kind, smart, inventive, upbeat, a musician-poet who loves sushi â€" I’ll never understand what Jimmy saw in me that has kept him so engaged. In the early ’80s, I was working in Cuba trying to build a long-term project. I would show my work at Newsweek because it was friendly and Jimmy was there. My work was young, but I kept returning to show the project as it grew.
At the 25th anniversary of the Cuban revolution, Jimmy â€" by then the foreign picture editor â€" sent me to Cuba with the writer Patricia Sethi for one month. She got the only foreign interview with Castro. Newsweek printed it with my photos. Castro was pleased. After his anniversary speech, he picked us up from among a gaggle of journalists and we toured his projects in the Sierra Maestra mountains. We ended up at a farm where guests had gathered for a barbecue, including Gabriel GarcÃa Márquez. We spent the night and flew back to Havana the next morning with El Jefe and GarcÃa Márquez. The photos were published in Newsweek and throughout the world.
Another remarkable assignment was photographing Richard Avedon for a 30-page article on his Whitney Museum retrospective. Avedon gave extraordinary access for four days and was extremely generous.
When he became the Newsweek director of photography, he gave me a four-year contract. So many things Jimmy did for me required faith. He sees something that merits this faith and provided me and many others with unique opportunities. We are forever grateful.
Tomorrow, we continue with more photographers discussing the editors who influenced their careers.
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