4 A Thousand Words: 
Telling a Story with Your Lens
>
o
<
A good picture tells a story on its own. When your audience looks at your photographs, they should see the characters, the props, the plot; they should be able to interpret the story you’re telling. Pictures are a form of communication, there-fore to be a great photographer, you must be a great communicator and story-teller. You must compile all the elements of a story into your photo’s composition. Sometimes the expression on a person’s face is enough to tell a story – take, for example, Steve McCurry’s famous National Geo-graphic shot of the Afghani refugee. However, often you need an additional element in order to communicate the story. In fact, the McCurry photo was so captivating not only because of the young girl’s intense gaze, but because the red shawl she wore complemented the otherworldly green of her eyes. Apart from the elements that naturally exist, you may also choose to insert props into your photo. For example, if you’re telling a story about an athlete’s epic win, he or she might be holding the medal or trophy just won. Not only is the prop a literal plot element, but the model will concentrate on the held object and will be less disturbed by the camera if his or her hands are busy. A prop may be just what your model needs to feel more comfortable and relaxed, making him or her appear natural and authentic. Background information is also vital to story-telling, there-fore, choose your spot so that important elements either appear next to the model or are clearly visible in the back-ground. Doing so will “set the scene,” just as you would if you were a writer or director. Sebastião Salgado is the undisputed master of story-telling photography. Take a look at his work. Every single shot tells a story. Among Salgado’s enormous collections, he created “Genesis,” a project that transported him all over the world and spanned seven years of his life, between 2004 and 2011. Genesis depicts untouched nature and indigenous communities, revealing humanity’s roots in ancestral tradition, alongside nature’s roots uncorrupted by man. This body of work collectively tells a story; however, each photo stands on its own, communicating its message. You need no text, no caption to understand the picture’s essence and the narrative being told. James Nachtwey once said: “For me, the strength of photography lies in its ability to evoke humanity. If war is an at-tempt to negate humanity, then photography can be perceived as the opposite of war.” In capturing war, horrific events, or hidden realities in a photograph, the photographer evokes the humanity in their audience by showing the audience itself in a mirror. As the audience, we feel empathy, we feel compassion, because we see ourselves in this darkness. This is the compelling nature of story-telling, and photojournalism is one of the strongest narrators; due to its visual nature, a photograph is tactile evidence of the reality at hand.
The nurse’s body language (photo above) tells a story of desperation and helplessness. Her “props” are the white hat and surgical mask, which indicate her profession – another element of the story. The background confirms that she is, indeed, involved in healthcare, and the equipment suggests that this is a delivery room. Considering the poor quality of the equipment and the unsanitary state of the room, you might easily guess the story’s context: who would like to give birth to a baby in these conditions?
In the picture above, the wide-angle perspective and the dynamic sky evokes some strong visual impact, but the story is not easily told or understood. Shot in southern Tanzania, the man’s uniform tells us that he is an official of some kind, while the stop sign confirms this authoritarian position. The stop sign also reads “Tsetse Control,” and the man holds a net in his right hand. The man is actually in charge of con-trolling Tsetse flies, which are a dangerous disease-spreading insect. The official stops the cars in order to search inside for the dangerous flies, which he then catches and kills.
The picture above was taken in Estonia during the country’s struggle for independence from the Soviet Union. The partially captured cross centered in the background indicates that the setting is a church. The woman is presenting the page numbers to the congregation to lead them in song, essentially telling the story of Estonia’s revolution, which was affectionately termed the “singing revolution.”