On Sunday, I was assigned by The Bakersfield Californian to photograph a popular Easter service held at a local park. I am a former Californian staff photographer and continue to shoot for the newspaper as one of its contract photographers. During the course of the service, I sought to make an image showing the size of the crowd, which we estimated at more than 4,000. I liked the scene pictured here, and during my shooting decided to take a few images in high dynamic range (above photo.) HDR  is a popular form of photography that combines different exposures of the same scene, then uses software to merge the photos into one image. It greatly expands the detail in the scene, far beyond what a “normal” digital exposure can do. One description I read indicated that the human visual system can process between 12 and 14 stops (photographic lighting increments) of light, while a single digital image has a range of about six stops.

I have been photographing in HDR extensively for pleasure in recent months, but have not used it for my journalism work, as I have concerns about the ethical implications of merging photos and the potential for misuse. I will get to this in a moment.

This particular scene presented a challenge in that there was a substantial difference in exposure values between the sky, which was quite dramatic, and the crowd. Recording the sky properly would have resulted in the crowd being underexposed, while recording the crowd properly would have overexposed or “washed out” the dramatic sky. Of course I photographed the scene using a “normal” exposure first, and the result is the exposure you see below. It is properly exposed for the crowd, but even with an attempt in Photoshop to bring up the dark sky, it is pretty much blown out.

Shooting in HDR is easy. For this image, I set the auto-bracketing feature of my Canon EOS 7D to record three exposures; one at normal exposure, one at two stops overexposed (allowing four times more light than the normal exposure) and one at two stops underexposed (decreasing the light from the normal exposure by four times.) I made sure my motor drive was set to high, focused the scene and then turned off the autofocus so that the focus would not shift during the exposures. I then fired a burst of three images, which were recorded in about one-third of a second. There are several versions of software for processing HDR. I use Photomatix. It remarkably analyzes the detail recorded in all three exposures, then merges them into a single photo, placing a dramatically expanded range of tones where they are needed. Where highlights are needed, the software takes from the underexposed image and where shadow detail is needed, it takes from the overexposed image. The result is an image with a range of detail beyond what a normal exposure can produce.

I really loved the HDR image of the scene. I loved how it recorded the sky. I loved how it really saturated the crowd. I loved how it rendered the water. Most of all, I loved that it was a much more accurate depiction of the scene as experienced by the 4,000-plus worshipers at the service than the “normal” exposure.

And I didn’t submit it to the newspaper. I instead gave them the “normal” exposure.

There are a couple of reasons why I did not submit the HDR image. You see, I’m old school, and I’m just not comfortable with it. To the casual reader, that might not make much sense. What’s wrong with publishing a photo that is improved by technology, one might ask? I spent 28 years in the newspaper business, and any old time photojournalist who gives a salt about the profession will tell you why: the potential for misuse is too extreme. While HDR can be a wonderful use of technology to accurately render scenes in some situations, it also presents an ethical minefield, and if there’s one thing we’ve sadly learned in the digital era, it’s that there are newspaper photographers, editors and designers out there ready and willing to trip those mines.

Take, for example, the issue of motion. For an HDR image to work, all of the components of the scene must be stationary. Add motion and alignment becomes an issue. So what happens if a photographer has a great picture, except for one moving object. Does he simply remove that object from the image? Does he remove the object from two of the three exposures and allow it to remain in one exposure, thus saving the image when the software does its blending magic? Has he crossed an ethical line in doing so. I say yes he has.

Then there’s the issue of color saturation. Yes, an HDR image properly presented can offer an accurate depiction of a scene as viewed by the human eye. But the expanded dynamic range also presents an opportunity to skew the colors of a scene far beyond the scope of the human visual system. Colors can be “stretched” to wild extremes. The slight red of a scene can be rendered a deep blood red for example. A picture can be presented that doesn’t even remotely resemble what existed at the time of recording. Thus, the same tool that can render remarkable accuracy can also render false truth. Take a look at the picture below for an example.

I couldn’t resist taking this photo when I came upon this scene in rural Bakersfield. The failed McAllister Ranch has come to symbolize the real estate collapse that plunged the U.S. economy into recession. The huge sign that beckoned buyers and promised an idyllic life style lay toppled, rotting and decaying among the acres upon acres that were to house this new world-class development. There was a bit of red and yellow in the sky from the setting sun. I shot an HDR image but this time, decided to use the Photomatix software to drastically overemphasize the colors, creating an apocalyptic-looking sky. Clearly this was far beyond what the human eye would process. As an editorial commentary, with explanation of the process, it might fly in a newspaper. I didn’t shoot it for a newspaper, and if I had been assigned to do this shot for one, I never would have submitted this, even though I think it looks real cool.

Technology has proven too tempting for some photojournalists, who dishonor the longstanding ethical practices that the profession demands to be a conduit of visual truth with the readers who place their trust in us. More troubling to me, is that I really don’t have a handle on how the photojournalism world now sees and reacts to these breaches in truthful visual communication. Ten or 15 years ago, photojournalists who crossed the ethical boundaries were dealt with harshly. At most responsible newspapers, they lost their jobs. The industry magazines let us all know about it. The photojournalism community is small, it is connected, and we did an excellent job of policing ourselves. The photojournalist caught altering a scene, or using technology to change a photo’s truth, would quickly become known to us all, and that was likely a terrible ordeal for the photographer to deal with. Now, I wonder. Has the Twitter mentality the journalism world has so recklessly and carelessly embraced, where getting it out there first with little concern for accuracy or confirmation, spilled over to the photo world? Is routine manipulation of truthful photos now standard operating procedure, a photo equivalent of the Twitter mentality? Are newspapers so concerned about finding new streams of revenue that they are no longer paying attention to the all important ethical issues that must be evaluated,  monitored and enforced at all times? Are our journalism schools doing what we teachers do at Bakersfield College – hammering home our insistence that the wonder of technology must never justify altering the truth – or has their fervent “embrace the new journalism world” teaching model tossed ethical considerations aside? I just don’t know.

I believe my HDR image from the Easter service is genuine, honest and that it does not breach journalistic ethical standards. I believe it is a proper use of technology to deliver an accurate rendition of the scene. I also believe that, given my personal obsession with adherence to photojournalism ethics, that I could successfully implement the use of HDR photography into my journalism work. Ditto for the five photographers I work with at The Californian, old school guys whose ethics are beyond reproach. But I don’t believe or trust that others in my profession can do the same. Quite frankly, the newspaper industry has not done well in the area of merging technology with traditional journalism ethical values. And for that, honest and ethical photographers must pay the price. It would be supremely arrogant for me to say that I should be able to use HDR in my photojournalism because I can be trusted, but others should not. So I come down on the side of ethical caution. The brilliance and coolness of the HDR image does not trump the importance of honest photojournalism. The likelihood for abuse is just too great. So I’ll keep my HDR shooting to myself, for pleasure and artistic purposes.

Of course, photojournalists can do awesome HDR projects and present them to their readers as such, with full disclosure about how the images are produced. Here is an excellent example, by Los Angeles Times photographer Robert Lachman.

But as a regular photojournalism tool, I have to say no way. At least not now. I just don’t trust the industry to use it properly.

It’s now been three-and-one-half weeks since I left The Californian via buyout and three weeks since Black Tuesday, when 14 of my coworkers in the newsroom and 20 overall in the company were laid off. The touching title of this post, “Then we came to the end” was coined by my friend and assistant Eye Street editor Stefani Dias to illustrate her Facebook  gallery of photos taken in the days before and when the staff gathered for the last time, the night of the layoffs. What I will never forget was the palpable sense of foreboding and dread that engulfed the newsroom in the weeks leading up to Black Tuesday, yet how everyone did their jobs with diligence and professionalism. Everybody knew it was coming; the only question was who and how many. Staffers openly packed up their belongings, filling up boxes in plain view, wanting to make sure they had their personal belongings out of the building long before that day. Our great columnist and editor Lois Henry assembled the staff for a picnic the Friday before;  an unusual gesture but one that was perfectly clear: Lois was gathering the staff for one last lunch. She couldn’t say it, but she didn’t have to. Everybody knew.

On my last day, our sweet support services crew, Nicole and Estella, sensing that the end was near, hastily arranged for a staff picture on the front steps of the building. I was out shooting my final assignment, and though my boss tried to get me there in time, I was too far out and couldn’t make it. But the picture was made. and it is one I will always treasure. Eleven of the 14 who would be laid off in a couple of days are in this picture, smiling through the uncertainty. This was a good staff; great reporters, photographers and editors. I can’t help but wonder, will The Californian ever again have this many staffers to stand on those historic steps and pose for a picture? Stefani states “we” came to and end. The other question is has “it” come to an end?

   And so it has finally come to an end.

   I was a brash and cocky 22-year-old,  just out of journalism school, when I strode into The Californian’s newsroom, took one look around and said “I’ll give it two years, then I’m outta here.” That was 28 and one-half-years ago. On Friday afternoon, I will arrive with my cameras at the Centennial High baseball field — fittingly one of my favorite places to shoot — and I’ll photograph the first few innings of their game against Liberty High. And those will be the final pictures of my career as a Bakersfield Californian staff photographer.

 I have decided to hang it up as a newspaper photographer and embark on a new journey as a full-time commercial photographer and part-time instructor at Bakersfield College. The process of converting my successful part-time company, John Harte Digital Photography Services anchored by the Shooting Star Sports Photography product, into a full-time company, is already underway. Nearly two years ago, I began preparing for my departure from The Californian. Newspapers were beginning to suffer the effects of lost advertising revenue and a migration of readers to the internet. Rounds of layoffs began sweeping the industry and close friends, remarkable photographers all, were suddenly on the unemployment line. What once seemed unthinkable was now a stark reality; newspapers were suddenly in serious peril. So I worked feverishly to put my financial house in order, reached my goal of becoming debt free, and when The Californian offered a buyout last week, I accepted on the spot. I was good to go.

   I had always envisioned writing a long, nostalgic goodbye when I left the business. You know, reminiscing about favorite pictures and subjects, telling a few “back in the day” stories. But the truth is I just don’t have time to do it. This business of ending a 28-year-career is pretty time consuming. My life this past week has been a blur; sending and receiving e-mails and phone calls as word made its way to my friends and colleagues about my departure. Preparing invoices, business and budget charts and staring in disbelief at my friend, accountant Dennis Tolliver, when he tells me “Quick Books is easy!” Continuing to prepare lesson plans for my 57 students at Bakersfield College. Man, I’m exhausted.

 

Me with my last time card Wednesday. I always hated filling those things out.

   But I had to say something to you folks, you readers who told me so many times how much you loved my pictures. And let me know plenty of times when you hated my pictures. That something is simple and heartfelt: Thank you. I don’t know if you realize what sort of an honor it is you have given me by allowing me these past 28 years to show you your world through my eyes. There’s one heck of a trust element there, and I will be forever grateful to you for that. I can also promise you that every picture I took, and every picture The Boys took, was completely honest and true. As a staff, we held the highest ethical standards. It was the common denominator among us, the glue that held us together.

Here we are on Wednesday, together for one last week as Californian staff photographers. That's Casey Christie on the left, then Henry Barrios, me and Felix Adamo. We've worked together for more than 25 years.

    Oh yes, The Boys. This is the hard part. For more than 25 years, we’ve worked together. I think it’s a pretty good bet that we are the most experienced and longest-tenured photography staff in California. We are each different in personality and shooting style, yet we meshed perfectly into a seamless unit. Casey is the nature guy, who has wowed readers for years with his stunning scenic and wildlife photography, knowing full well that he was going to be razzed mercilessly by us every time he brought in a photo of a bird soaring against a beautiful sky. Henry is the true documentarian of the group, a specialist in serious social issues who has never wavered in his belief that a newspaper has a social and moral obligation to be a voice for the poor and disenfranchised; who knows that if we don’t look out for them, nobody will. He is the one willing to put a face to the people and issues a lot of society doesn’t want to look at. Felix is the true artist among us, a photographer who can brilliantly shift gears from photojournalist to fine art photographer. His photos of the arts, which he pursues with vigor and passion, are beyond belief. And I’m the sports guy. I’d rather be on a baseball field on a spring afternoon or a football field on an autumn evening than anywhere else. And I’m not talking about Raiders, Dodgers, Lakers. Been there, done that; it’s not as exciting as you’d think. Give me a Centennial vs. Stockdale baseball game or a Garces vs. Tehachapi football game any day of the week. That’s where I belong.

   We had something special, the four of us, and we’ll be lifelong friends regardless of where fortune, or these troubling economic times, takes us. I’m the photographer and person I am because of those guys.

   And so on Friday, it comes to an end. Twenty six years behind schedule. I’m not going away, I’m just changing gears. I’ll still be shooting , I’m even going to shoot for The Californian on occassion, but as a contractor, not an employee. The free time will allow me to immediately double the number of Shooting Star clients I can accept, and I think I’m actually going to be a pretty busy guy. But I’ll be smiling a lot when you see me, because my new office will be whatever ball field I’m standing on. And that, my friends, is right where I want to be.

You are welcome to stop by!