Same Sun (Nice, France)

Some outs from Nice and elsewhere.

Sailin' (T.O)

A few pictures from earlier in the week.


And a portrait of John who was driving me around to shoot the sail boats.

"Where are his feet?" (T.O)

Tennis is in town. I don't feel like blabbing about how to shoot it; there's a thousand ways to do it, and to quote a mentor of mine: "You'd have to suck not to get "something" out of three hours of hitting the yellow ball". (Though it is a little more subtle than that)

But I thought I'd share a little bit about the importance of feedback.

Feedback is invaluable. Having experienced shooters helping you out and telling you how you could have done this or that better, is the best way to improve.

Upon coming back with what was probably the best "jubo" picture of Rafael Nadal; a colleague and mentor immediately said : "Where are his feet?". Referring to what he saw on TV (from the media room); Nadal jumped at that moment upon winning a very long set, and my tighter picture didn't show it.

Now this picture is still good enough; and he could have simply said "good job", but by telling me how it could have been better; you can bet your ass off next time around, in that situation, I'll be shooting loose and will have the full body.

And that's how you learn, and that's how you get better...

Caribana 2010 (T.O)

The biggest Caribbean parade in North America. Organizers claim there are more than a million people participating and attending, which is a major overstatement but everybody seems to benefit from the juiced up numbers (and reporters can't be bothered to venture an accurate estimate and call them on the lie).

Even if the actual figure is far less than half what they claim; there is a lot of - sweaty, horny, festive - people.

I tend to get migraines from the mix of loud music and big crowds; which is why I never look forward to covering these events. If it wasn't for my job, I'd never get anywhere near these things.

But as I've said before, the variety of assignments makes Toronto such a great city to work in, so it's with eagerness and good earplugs that I tackled this year's Caribana Parade.

Good pictures are easy to make; great pictures are very rare. It is what it is, costumes are colourful, people are dancing, "like shooting fish in a barrel" my colleague Andrew said. But good moments - the photojournalistic sense of the word - are rarely encountered because the event lasts all day and is spread all over the four-kilometre route.

I (unsuccessfully) headed out looking for great pictures (I always keep an eye open for the zinger.) It didn't happen this time around - it almost never does - but here are a few of the good - not great - photos from that day.

This was last year's post

FORE!!! (T.O)

My first time shooting a major golf event; here are pictures of Carl Pettersson from Sweden, winner of this year's Canadian Open.

While harsh sunlight (as opposed to an overcast day) makes it tough to get the good important news photos (i.e. reactions after putting and the like), it is very fun to play with the shadows and make some artsy images.


But in the end, the only picture that really matters for the final round is:

OMG-20 (Toronto, Ontario)

I delayed posting this thinking I would have time to re-edit some photos, and maybe come up with some poetic way to describe the hectic weekend of the G20 summit in Toronto. I was wrong. I've been very busy ever since.




Although these were exceptional events here in Toronto, on the world stage, the protests and riots were fairly insignificant. A few police cruisers burnt down, some broken windows... Protesters didn't injure anyone (the police took care of that), nothing compared to what we saw in Thailand a few months ago, or in the Paris suburbs a few years back (when they wanted to increase tax on baguettes if I recall).

I wanted to cover the lighter side of this social experiment. Some protesters dressed like clowns, were actually hilarious:


Or people dancing in Allan Gardens, where a lot of out-of-town protesters (a lot came from Québec) pitched tents - I guess you can't afford hotels on an activist's paycheck:


The city had been deserted, this is Yonge Street during the morning rush hour:


The bigger story was really the way the police acted. Numbers were humongous; 19 000 officers (Pittsburgh only had 5 000), 1.1 billion for security (60 times more than the 18 million last year in Pittsburgh). And all that just to kick civil rights in the crotch.

Some of my friends and fellow journalists, while wearing proper ID, were roughed up and arrested. At one point I was watching a very peaceful - borderline boring - protest, in the officially designed protest spot - and out of nowhere, police officers in full riot gear would charge the crowd and arrest the person standing next to me, who hadn't done a thing. I could go on and on with example of police fuck-ups - and I'm not one to usually side with low-life protesters.

More so than a few 17-year-olds from Montreal dressed in black breaking windows; the way the police forces dropped the ball on that one is what will be remembered of the G20 in Toronto.

Blue Jays (T.O)

MuchMusic Video Awards (T.O)

Variety is what makes my job interesting. I'd rather die than have to shoot this type of event day in and day out, but in the grand scheme of things, being part of the huge (useless, ridiculous, absurd) celebrity circus just adds to the variety of tasks a photojournalist is expected to do.

Some photographers specialize in celebrity photography (and do quite well). The only one respectably doing so in Canada described his skill has being able to both "be arrogant and suck-up in a single sentence". It's a fine line. One I'm trying to stay away from.


So it starts with the red carpet. These events always attract all kinds of wannabe photographers, working for themselves, for a shitty blog, or giving away pictures just to get a pass. For once, I found some of them to be useful:

About 50 to 100 "celebrities" will walk down the red carpet. 5 to 10 of them are actually important enough for us to need pictures, of which I know absolutely none.

They all look the same. Chatting to those fan / fake-photographers was actually really helpful as they knew almost everybody.

Now we tackled the event with 5 photographers. We had people posted on the red carpet, and later around the various stages. My assignment was to roam around, and find some pretty pictures; look for something different. My fellow photographers thought this was the best job, and I agreed.

Until I met the PR people. (I so hate them; beware the short lady with the clipboard and headset...)

I was herded back into a photo pit (in which we already had a shooter) and told this was the only place I could take pictures. I'd have to try and make something different, from the same spot everybody else is in... The first picture of this post is an example of what I was supposed to do, it was taken just before I got yelled at and taken back to the dedicated photo spots (for the second time of the night).

These PR people, whose job it is for us to make them and their event look as good as possible, do so by restraining us as much as they can. Think about it for a second, I simply wanted to wander around in the crowd.

About that... (Toronto, ON)

Last year it was a garbage strike, this year it's a G8 / G20 summit. Almost everyday, there's an assignment related to it.

There's the big fence they are building around the convention centre, there are protesters telling us they plan on breaking stuff, police showing how they'll beat on people who break stuff.

Someone please tell the world leaders about Skype...

Overall a big display of human stupidity, if not primitivity.

Three Kilometres High (over Cookstown, ON) II

"Don't worry, I've got your back" had never sounded better.

There was no way I would jump, but for safety reasons I was wearing a parachute - a "rig" rather, as the parachute is the part that opens.

I asked to be tethered, and they ran a cable from my rig to the plane. But, soon enough I would realize that was only to humour me - when we reached the desired altitude, they unhooked me.

As logical as the reason was - it's better to fall off a plane than to be dragged by it at 200 km/h - my discomfort was hard to hide.

That's when James, who was staying in plane with me, told me "Don't worry, I've got your back".

This is Marc, signalling me to come and take my position. (Note the angle of the horizon; my camera is parallel to the airplane)

To get the picture I wanted, I had to lean outside the aircraft. One knee was still inside, and I was holding (clasping, grasping...) the red bar (see photo) with my left hand.

Knowing, or rather thinking, I would be attached to the plane itself, was the only thing making me feel safe about this position.

So much for that.

The practice runs helped. I got accustomed to suppress my fear of heights long enough to make photos.

And on what was to be the very last jump because it was already nighttime on the ground, the pilot executed what would have been a wheelie had we been on a motorcycle to catch a last glimpse at the sun.

And it worked.

May Two Four (Bobcaygeon, ON)

You've been... Thunderstruck (Sydney, NSW, Australia)

When I first posted that picture, almost exactly a year ago, and use the same clever title, I don't think I realized AC/DC was an Australian band. In fact, unless I'm mistaken, they have played more than once at the Opera House that seems to be hit by lightning.

It was a Saturday night in Sydney. In fact it was Saturday in most parts of the world, but I was in Sydney. I don't remember what I had planned to do of the evening, but I know that whatever it was, it changed right away when the thunderstorm began.

Skies can be amazing before of after storms. It wasn't the case on that night, but it's hard to know in advance (so you just go).

I told the story before of my homeless friend Jay, whom I met trying to protect my camera from the heavy rain on the porch of the church. When asking why I was heading to the riverside park, I specifically told him I was "going to photograph lightning hitting the Opera House", and on my way back to the hostel, when I showed him the picture on the back of the camera, he thought I was some kind of magician.

Jay didn't really understand the ins and outs of photography, let alone how to shoot lightning, so he was simply impressed at the timing I must have to be able to snap a shot just when it strikes.

The reality of it is, you simply take longer exposures and wait for something to happen in your frame. When you're outside of where the storm is, it's quite enjoyable, you just set your camera on a tripod, watch the show, and click every so often for the next picture to be taken.

That night, well it was somewhat different. I don't travel with a tripod (too big), so I usually use whatever I can to fix the camera. There, it was my bag padded with my coat.

That coat would have been useful since by the time I got to the pier, the storm had shifted and was over and behind me and not over the downtown core.

Because it was pouring rain, I used my shirt to protect my camera and keep the lens clean - that smudge is a raindrop that got past me and my makeshift shield.

I couldn't just stand there and enjoy the show, I was simply hovering over my camera when I saw the reflection of a flash, and just made sure the camera would stay still for the remainder of the exposure.

I knew (at least hoped) I had something. I was on vacation so I just kept shooting, but if you're working and you're on deadline, once you get such a picture, you have to quickly decide if it's good enough or if you can get something better.

This was the case last August, while I was on staff at the Toronto Star. After a full day of work, I was watching the Simpsons, trouser-less, when a raging thunderstorm pulled me back outside. I quickly grabbed the camera, and started to think of a better vantage point (than that of my basement). I tried a few places, but couldn't get anything good. I finally parked my car on a curb of the highway exit, raced to the top of the overpass, and started snapping away. All of this happening really quickly because I didn't want to miss the storm.

(Again, no tripod, hand-held against the metal railing for 10 seconds at a time, thinking the streetlights would be hit before the railing I was holding on to)

The picture below was the last frame I shot. After seeing it, I quickly had to make the decision to stop shooting, rush back home to send it to my paper.

No way it would've been published had I waited any longer.