Learning How to:
Photo Pace at race pace
It’s been very important to remind myself this before I begin a new project: be open-minded, be curious, be inspired, be yourself.
For the last year my life’s trajectory has started to arch more towards being a freelance photographer. That may seem to be the most logical course for how I’ve represented myself via social media but I’ve pretty much always tried to avoid promoting my hobby to the executive branch of my world. Now, photography has become a primary factor in making decisions that, well, make the most sense. How will this opportunity benefit me? How do I navigate, professionally, a space where I’ve only dabbled in casually until recent history? Those were questions I had to ask myself but I also had to become comfortable with the fact that I have so much to learn and more of these newbie questions will continue to arise. But, the biggest concern I had was: How do I continue to make work that I’m happy with now that there are other people that have to be pleased with my work?
Photo Pace has been the best creative outlet that I’ve had in over a decade. Previously, I could sneak away to my garage and play my keyboard or upright piano for hours on end. No matter how hot or cold my garage would be--and it would be the extreme on both ends--I would be hovered over 88-keys until my hands physically could play anymore. Even though I wasn’t creating anything I could sit in front of the piano and begin to discover so much about my instrument and explore the theory behind what makes interesting or unique sounds. Those days have been gone for ages. Now, since joining up with the incredible homies that are Photo Pace, I’ve been able to push myself in a direction that allows me to explore this medium in the same way that I could explore music in the past. I have always known that photography would always be able to provide a great amount of opportunities. However, I also feared that working in this space had the potential to place a box around discovery, self and/or uniqueness. This was my biggest fear.
As unpredictable as things were in 2020, so was being laid off [and out] of my career to then working gig-to-gig and now feeling like this is the best experience I’ve had in my entire life. But I didn’t want to take any job just because my future photographing was, and still is, [somewhat] uncertain. In the past, the jobs I would take were usually in some way related to my ambassadorship(s). Their direction: “We love what you do… just do that.” Cool! Who can’t do more of what they already do? But the more offers I’ve accepted the more I had to accept that expectations would be more detailed and less off-the-cuff.
“But that’s not what I do.” said every photography purist.
If I wanted to really do this… If I didn’t want to return back to a career that was always going to come to an abrupt end in one way or another I had to learn how to use someone’s vision and transcribe that into something familiar to me, Photo Pace. The first couple of projects were exactly that, projects. There was less of a direction and more of a very specific landing point for the product. This was most apparent when Emily, Zack, Zach and I went to Death Valley. We all knew the shots we needed and wanted for ourselves. We knew the story we were going to tell but we also had to make sure that there was a thread that wove through our images, the watch. Even then, Death Valley was left to our own creative direction. Then I went against the grain.
I had recently worked with LA SWEAT, a women’s pro racing team, at their team camp in Boulder, CO. The team and I created a great relationship and I realized there would be more than enough space to make images that represented a side of racing that I hadn’t seen before. That is part of the ethos of PP anyway, right? Making images that evoke a certain emotion with the viewer. The intimate parts off-the-bike are as much a part of cycling as the clipped-in part for my work. But this is a cycling team that needs certain “assets”, as they say, that are more literal to cycling. On the surface it seems to be a layup: make photos of people riding bikes who are very very seasoned at riding bikes very very well. Still, racing and racing events always seemed to be the easiest way for me to dig myself into a paradoxical rut—trade creativity for “paying the bills”. That’s not a shot at those who photograph racing events for a living, get a kick out of it, find themselves fully inspired and so on. For my own tastes it hadn't struck me as a way to explore the core things that I mentioned before. I’m not the Grubers for God’s sake--they shoot racing BEAUTIFULLY. But SWEAT is a racing team and I couldn’t afford to overlook moments for them on the bike. Fortunately people like Kyle, Chris and Patrick have always inspired me to make images that bring the viewer at least one degree closer to being there in the moment. So, with that, it made accepting a second offer to work with SWEAT that much more intriguing.
Last month I flew out to Chicago, Ill to shoot Intelligentsia Cup for the team. Riding at photo pace does not mean that a ton of stops are required but it also doesn’t not mean that. However, in racing, stops are counterintuitive to the sport except for those who are having bicycle struggles. This of course presents a whole new set of questions. The main question being: How can I replicate the stops on a PP ride if there will be no stopping? The most logical answer turned out to be the most useful. Most days I would spend up to an hour before each race trying to find familiar elements that I, or any member of PP, would look for on the most common ride: reflections, windows, stairs for higher perspective, sub frames, anything! I could go on about how perfect Chicago is in a different write-up but let’s just say that each event contained at least one of these elements. There was a day where I didn’t have enough time to walk the course and that day turned out to be the most challenging day with the camera. Each course also provided a unique and inspiring lighting challenge which kept me engaged during every race. Cloud conditions yielded flat light or harsh light, rain, interesting haze elements made light inconsistent or the constant changing between any of these conditions because of the ever-present wind. All of this made for a game within a game: which side do I want to be on? Where do I want to be for the finish? Does the crowd matter for the shot? How much of the story will this frame tell?
After a week of shooting every day, including the rest day, the event turned out to be the exact experience I needed to prepare for how future seasons in this space may look. The last day of racing capped the story on LA SWEAT nicely. One of the racers had a breakthrough after several days of tribulations. And, in the time where SWEAT wasn’t on the course, or not in the mix at the time, I was able to make images of other moments that unfolded during the race. With Intelli attracting some of the best crit racers in the country, and from many nations in the western hemisphere, many moments were unfolding, many times simultaneously.
Working in this space officially as a freelance photographer—which is still weird to say at times—has heightened my senses and sensibility on how to make images that represent myself and who I’m creating for in the most honest way. Realizing that there is always a way to express your creativity and not only receiving that message as a cliche to boost inspiration. I will always tell myself when I have a new opportunity: be open-minded, be curious, be inspired, be yourself.
