GIVE US YOUR SUGGESTIONS & FEEDBACK ABOUT THE SITE
We will send you an E-mail every time there is a new article in your favorite section. Sign-Up For ALERTS.

Master Photographers Tell You How

Douglas Carver - Interview by Mark Lapin www.carverdigital.com - (212) 279-2848 Article rating: 5.50

TGP: Backstage shooting is unpredictable.  How do you equip yourself to be prepared for anything?

Backstage shooting has its challenges, but it offers advantages too.  Many of my projects have been relatively long term.  I shot for three years behind the scenes for the Grateful Dead. (Yes, I also shot many other things during that period. No, I didn’t live in a VW bus.) I worked around the same people, so naturally they got used to my presence. Eventually both the band and the crew paid less attention (in a good way) to me.  Each time you go back, you get to polish your approach and equipment.  Building upon your previous visual successes, you’re free to take on bigger creative and/or technical challenges. It’s a temporal luxury to know visually what you have and what you want. 

Ironically, during the actual shooting moments, you never have the luxury of time. It’s essential that you’re able to adapt your equipment very quickly.  Otherwise, you get one great shot and miss 15 others, never knowing if they would have been great. Most of my equipment is off the shelf, but I do have a couple of parts that were custom machined, specifically to allow me more flexibility in less time. Access, space and budgets are typically too restricted to allow me to have an assistant.

TGP: You use both film and digital cameras. Are there times when you prefer digital?

After shooting runways for a few seasons, the considerable logistical and technical challenges became relatively effortless. So I started to push things creatively.  That’s the magic of digital – it takes most of the time, expense and trauma out of taking creative risks.   You can experiment creatively and dial in your shot frame by frame. The difference between a shutter speed of 1/25th and 1/20th can be the difference between a voluptuous image abounding with energy and a blurry unsellable garment.  Digital lets you work safely right on the cusp.  Think, click, see; think, adjust, click…  Many great images are on that cusp, at that threshold.

I got to where I could shoot nine or ten distinctly different looks within a ½ hour show; images that I was proud of and that offered creative variety.  And at that point, I felt I should be trying new things because I’ve figured this out.  Fashion-runway is not my life’s work; behind-the-scenes is my oeuvre.

TGP: I’ve heard the Andrettis gave you access to an unusual pre-race ritual.  Can you say something about that?

They allowed my brother, Rob, and me to attend the blessing of the cars, which is a very serious thing-- serious for them personally and religiously. They made an altar out of the rear wings of their racecars and their priest conducted a blessing.  It wasn’t irreverent but it was surreal, a racing-meets-religion hybrid. I only took two pictures, one during (no flash) and a posed one (with flash) immediately after the ceremony, which made it into the book I was doing for Simon & Schuster.  It shows Michael, Mario and John Andretti, all of who were in that race, along with the priest standing by the nose cones and rear wings of their cars.

TGP: What prepared you to go behind the scenes of a world as high-speed and high-stakes as Indy Car racing?

When I was growing up, a good friend of mine owned a racing team, and I worked on those teams polishing wheels and sweeping floors.  I helped out on the TransAm and Formula circuits, traveling around with them and shooting pictures.  The joke was that every time they wanted me to something, I was off taking a picture of something else.  The next year, I shot a few races for BMW McLaren. The only thing that was harder than getting the access was trying to sell the pictures. 

TGP: You spent quite a bit of time in Asia and photographed some unusual scenes there.  How did that happen?

I had another brother, Peter, who was in the family oil business and living in Asia. He brought me out to Asia for the first time, and I felt a surge of adrenalin as soon as I stepped off the plane.  It was a genuinely dramatic moment for me.  If you haven’t traveled a lot (and I hadn’t at that time) and you find yourself in an extremely foreign situation where you can’t read the signs, speak the language or recognize the smells, you tend to be either terrified or energized.  I was energized. I started spending more time in Asia, seeking to get below the tourist surface.

In Singapore, a (straight) friend of my brother got me connected with an underground community of transsexuals- Asian guys who were trying to raise money for sex-change operations.  At night, they’d meet at an intersection on the outskirts of town.  They would close it to traffic, set-up tables and the cross-dressed he-shes would mingle and pose for pictures, while people ordered beer, food and more beer. It was a bit bizarre to say the least; I loved it visually. I immediately started going every night, shooting from 11:00PM until two or three in the morning.  I got to know some of the he-shes, and one of them, Anita, invited me to their annual beauty contest.  It was a private thing, in a government housing complex, the Singaporean equivalent of project housing, and a lot more edgy than the scene at the intersection.  My brother said, “You’re going where?  A white guy with all those cameras? You’re getting way out of your element.’  His advice was sage, but I went anyway and it was incredible.  The pageant was on a rooftop and lit by three or four searing clear shadeless bulbs.  Many of the tranny’s families were there.  They were introducing me to their parents and their (straight) younger brothers. It was mondo-bizzaro.

TGP: What about the Meo opium harvest?  I noticed that on your photographic resume.

I showed some of the transvestite pictures to a local Singaporean photographer, and he suggested that I go up to shoot the opium harvest on the Thai–Burmese border.  He gave me the name of a local guy and suggested a place to stay, though I wouldn’t really call it a hotel. When I arrived, a man showed me where I would sleep and he matter-of-factly gestured that I should tape my mouth shut (for hygiene) before I showered.  “But no worry,” he proudly added in rough English, “water hot”. 

I found my local contact who drove me up into the mountains where the opium grows. I certainly wasn’t the first photographer ever to do this, but I sure didn’t run into any tour buses either. He told me I was free to wander around taking pictures, but he clearly warned me to do nothing but photograph.

As I was shooting, I encountered a village elder who had an American dollar bill and kept holding it up and showing it to me.  I assumed he wanted another one and gestured that I didn’t have any money with me.  The next time I went back to the van for film, I located a US dollar and put it in my pocket.  When I saw the elder again, I smiled and gave him the dollar.  He looked at me with this totally bewildered expression, but I kept urging him to take the dollar and finally he took it and shuffled thanklessly away.  An hour later, my guide challenged me, ‘What’s going on? I hear you’re giving money away.  I told you not to do anything but take pictures!’  I explained the story and he broke out laughing.  ‘Last year a Westerner came through here and gave that old guy a dollar.  Ever since then he’s been trying to trade it for something useful.  He didn’t want another one.  He wanted to get rid of the one he had.’

TGP:  You have an unusual family background that you’re a little hesitant to talk about. Any comment?

I’m very proud of my family background but it’s very tricky to discuss without seeming arrogant.  My ancestors have done some very interesting things, but that’s my luck, not my doing.  I take pride in it, not credit for it.  Robert Carver came over on the Mayflower. John Carver was the first governor of Massachusetts.  My family has a well-documented American history from the mid-1600s and earlier bits and pieces in England. My grandfather was Secretary to the American Ambassador in the Court of St. James (London).  My great-grandfather, General Sir John Maxwell, was the commander of British Forces in Egypt and of the Black Watch.  My great-great grand father, Lord Admiral Grenfell (my middle name), was the commander of the Brazilian navy.  In the States, my family was in the shipping business, involved in building and sailing vessels from Penobscot Bay, Maine.  If anyone is impressed by all of these coincidental fortunes of birth, I encourage them to hire me to shoot lavish photo projects, so that I can continue to pay the electric bills for my photo studio.

Lord Admiral Grenfell 1856, courtesy of Douglas Carver

General Sir John Maxwell 1926, courtesy of Douglas Carver

"Regular 'ol Douglas" © 2006 Douglas Carver

TGP: How did you first get interested in photography?

I went to all-male boarding schools, starting at age 10.  I actually liked it.  It was a long, family tradition: grandfathers, fathers, uncles, brothers…. all had gone to the same schools before me.  Family life at home was stable and happy, but my family believed that these schools offered exceptional educational opportunities.

Because the schools were all male, sports were highly valued.  I had three older brothers (my blood line is exclusively male for over 150 years), and some of them had been very successful in sports at the same schools.  So I was drawn to sports. I was pretty good as young kid, but knee injuries started plaguing me in high school. Suddenly I was on the sidelines, needing to channel my athletic energy to a new place.  I couldn’t play on the field, but I still wanted to participate.  The camera seemed like a good idea.  I had a lot to learn and couldn’t afford the film so I started working for the yearbook.

My high school intrigue became more serious in college. I sought a diversity of knowledge: video at UC Berkeley, a workshop with Ansel Adams, night school with Lisette Model, Philippe Halsman and George Tice.  A few days after I completed a summer scholarship at MIT film school, I began apprenticing in a start-up photo studio in NYC. I started at the very bottom, working for free and slowly moved up the apprentice/assistant ladder.  I worked hard and I was very lucky. I assisted some very talented people and learned a lot about the industry, the craft and myself.

TGP: You assisted for Irving Penn.  What was that like?

I started calling his studio just to give it a try.  I just wanted the awe of being in his presence. I found it to be a nearly religious experience (and I’m an atheist). Traditionally, in a studio of that caliber one goes through the darkroom or some sort of support role for anything from five to 18 months before getting more responsible work.  This way the studio can feel you out - see if you’re good enough, see if they trust you.  My on-set assisting career was established at that point, so as much as I respected Mr. Penn, I didn’t want to spot (retouch) platinum prints for six months. I stayed on for only a few days.  He was paying $30 a day, fair for the time, but nonetheless I found myself caught in a dilemma between saving his check for the signature and cashing it for necessities.  Ultimately, I was a bit devious.  I called the studio manager, saying I’d lost the check.  She sent me a replacement.  I cashed that and then had the original check laminated. It’s been 20 years & I still use it as a bookmark.

^ Back to top

* Your Name:
* Email address:
	(Enter the code shown)
	(Your e-mail address will not show on the site and is used so that we can contact you back if needed)
* Your Comment about this article::
	Include me in the TGP Monthly Newsletter