The first round of submissions for our Assignment Wired project are in, and we’re impressed by the efforts of those who submitted. Every participant put in the time to photograph their corner store and write an accompanying story with quotes and research — no small feat.
We summarize a select number of submissions below, along with advice for each. We also choose three submissions for editing and image processing so that readers can get an idea for our process and what effect that has on the final story.
This article is part of a series of lessons on photojournalism and critiques on submissions.
In general, our advice for almost every photographer who submitted would be to commit to one photograph at a time, pick the right spot and wait for the decisive moment. Making good photos can be like stalking prey, and the more patience you have, the better the final product.
A great photo sometimes involves a fair amount of boredom. If you can figure out where something interesting is likely to happen, you can compose your shot and then sit and wait for the magic to happen.
The assignment was a bit of a challenge. Not a lot is likely to happen in a corner store unless you spend significant time there. The real work is squeezing quality photos out of whatever assignment you’re given. Many assignments in the professional world are a word puzzle in need of a visual solution and it’s up to the photographer to make lemonade from lemons.
Before we get into the submissions, a small disclaimer: Value is in the eye of the beholder. Our opinions are just that, opinions. If you have something constructive to say about our critiques or the work of the participants, please say it politely in the comments. If what you read or see here is so offensive that it drives you to profanity and malice, please head somewhere else.
Without further ado, here are the critiques, followed by the three edited stories in their entirety.
“To pick up a book and put it back on the shelf sets off a perturbation in the universe.” – Ray Hinst of Haslam’s Bookstore in St. Petersburg, Florida
Gina’s write-up of the haunted Haslam’s Bookstore and its famous visitors, Jack Kerouac and Martha Stewart among them, was a pleasure to read. Photographically, we would like to see some of the customers and more fly-on-the-wall shots.
Download Gina Clifford’s unedited submission.
“We are normal people. Different regimes will come, but we will stay. This is our home.” – Uncle Wakil of Wakil Ahmad Store in Kabul, Afghanistan
Jon’s story of a convenience store in Kabul operating in the face of violence and destruction was insightful and well-done. While he managed to grab a couple of good shots, it looks like he struggled a bit with the flash and focus on the interiors.
Download Jon Bormet’s unedited submission.
“Our products give a sense of home while being away from home.”
– Alexandra Cruz, shopkeeper
This is Frank’s first stab at photojournalism and it was a good first effort. He ran into problems with customers not wanting to be photographed, but you can’t let that stand in your way. Usually if you hang around long enough, people will start to feel more comfortable and will let you take a few snaps.
Download Frank Weaver’s unedited submission.
Jessica’s behind-the-scenes photos of her local bakery were thoughtful and well-executed. The copy for the story was highly detailed, but the first-person perspective and focus on the food ventured into Arts and Entertainment writing rather than conventional journalism.
Remember to write from the third person and use the brevity of a traditional newspaper story as your guide. Less detail about the food and more background information on the bakery and its proprietors. Also, not every noun needs an adjective — use them sparingly and they will have more impact.
Download Jessica Tilley’s unedited submission.
Margaret wrote a well-researched profile of an organic produce market in the California Sierras. She included a few interesting quotes and lots of detail about the people, but there are no names in her article. Whenever you quote anyone, be sure to get their full name, age (if possible), occupation and town of residence.
Click here to download Margaret Jean Campbell’s unedited submission.
Read on for the edited stories of three more participants.
By Marissa Gawel
The thick smoke of steamboats and chicken satay stands assail visitors to the Bangsar Baru market in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, while patrons loaded down with red plastic packages bump each other as they pass.
As the musk of fried carrot cake mixes with raw fish at a nearby stall, the jabber of at least three languages — which almost never include English — buzzes all around.
“See you next week,” a female vegetable vendor calls out to me as I walk away with my groceries. A month and a half after my first visit, I’m now considered a regular.
Western visitors to the market will find a whole new spectrum of fruit adventure: mangosteens, rambutan, durian, starfruit, duku langsat, to name a few. As a Westerner, I can always find apples (shipped specially from South Africa and New Zealand), Sunkist oranges, and “USA” Cherries at Bangsar Baru. Oh, and mangoes of course. The cheap mangoes are what keep me coming back.
Other than mangosteens, I haven’t been won over by the more exotic fare; I’m not a fan of the toxic durian or the jelly-like rambutan.
I walk home, sweat dripping down my face as my bags become heavier with every step. The voice of my vegetable seller still rings in my head: “See you next week.” Four words were all I needed to find my place here. When I’m at the market, I’m home.
Download Marissa Gawel’s unedited submission.
Critique:
If we have to give one piece of advice to these photographers or any photographers it is to commit to the picture. Or was we refer to as “honor the impulse.”
If you get the tingling sensation while shooting that what is happening might become a moment or make an interesting photograph, then you have to commit. You need to work the situation and stay with the situation until you are sure, positive, that you have given your undivided attention to making a thoughtful photograph before you move on to the next tingle.
So many times we as photographers are so concerned about what we are missing, we forget to commit to what we are getting. In this story, Marissa was onto something visually but she could have committed to her instincts more.
By Myriam Rafla and Moe Ments
When Hussain Sujel settled in the Pointe St-Charles neighborhood of Montreal, Quebec, in 1993, two other Bangladeshi families resided in the neighborhood. Today, he can count more than 50.
This old Irish settlement has long welcomed French-speaking Canadians, English, Scots and other immigrants who settled into its working class culture. These communities are in the midst of the newly gentrified waterfront areas and share the neighborhood and its corner store with the condo owners on the Lachine Canal.
Sujel, a 25-year-old Montrealer of Bangladeshi origin, owns and operates with his family Le Nouveau Marché d’Asie — a corner store on Centre street in the colorful neighborhood, which locals also call The Pointe.
In the “dépanneur” (French for corner store, literally meaning to “bail out”), or “dep,” one is likely to hear “Bonjour,” “Hello” or “Salem Aleikum” as clients, friends and family enter. They purchase mostly cigarettes and beer (you’ll find petroleum jelly next to the Old Milwaukee) or simply come in to talk to Hussain, whose daily lunch is delivered from the Indian restaurant next door, also owned by Hussain’s family.
Hussain proudly admits that his family owns four businesses in the neighborhood: the dep, a restaurant owned by an uncle, an apartment building and a pizzeria that Hussain also operates from 6 p.m. to midnight daily after he leaves his full-time day job at the dépanneur. Many family-owned deps were bought out by big corporations in the ’90s, and the family-run dépanneur that are left, such as this one, survive by catering to their immediate neighborhood.
I’ve been going to Hussain’s dep for 10 years, mostly motivated by my nicotine cravings — for Gauloises, no less. Sometimes. I don’t see Hussein and his family for four or five months at a time (while I quit smoking and then take it up again). Today, Hussein tells me that he is in love with a girl by the name of Sultana who he met on Facebook and who lives in Paris. He lets out a soft sigh and gives me a coy smile. He’s in love. Hussain is going to meet Sultana this fall and, hopefully, they will hit it off. The Pointe dépanneur awaits you, Sultana.
Download Myriam Rafla and Moe Ments’s unedited submission.
Critique:
The overall or scene-setter photograph is often overlooked as a throwaway photograph or a necessary evil of doing a photo essay. We would suggest the complete opposite is true. A well-executed overall can take a photo essay to the next level.
It is not enough to just show what a place looks like, you need to use the overall as an opportunity to capture a little moment within the moment for added impact. Just crack open any of those old National Geographic magazines and pay special attention to what the photographs are doing with their scene setter. Whether it be a county fair or a stray camel, this is the standard that sets the overall.
Myriam and Moe (it’s not clear who took the photos) did better than most of the photographers in their overall shot, but they could push for a better one.
Sue’s Mini Mart
By Aaron Lord
Okay, so, you’re outta smokes, you’re girlfriend wants a pack of her favorite saimin (aka ramen, to the lay noodle eater), and you need to call your mother who’s still back in Micronesia but you’ve run out of minutes on your pay-as-you-go phone. Oh, and you’ve only got a jar full of change and it’s 11:30 p.m. on a Tuesday night.
Enter Sue’s Mini Mart, located in the bowels of Honolulu’s outer Ala Moana Pawa’a district, on the corner of Kaheka and Kanunu streets. It’s a popular late-night resource for vice binges and buzz maintenance — not to mention every Pacific Island, inter-Asian phonecard you could ever need.
“I’ll tell you what, working here, I’ve seen some things,” says Sue Nakanishi, owner since 1988. Sue’s is a focal point of the neighborhood, where the surrounding high-rises house many foreigners. It’s like an Ellis Island for Japanese, Korean and Micronesian travelers and immigrants.
“People ask me if I’m afraid to work here alone, with the seedy reputation of the area, and I tell them, ‘No,'” she says. At a spunky five feet tall, Nakanishi is not to be messed with. “I cannot operate out of fear.”
The store is tiny. Cases of beer, wine, chips, candy, cookies and Japanese rice crackers are stacked carefully about two feet from the entrance. Anyone standing in the aisles must constantly shift position to let customers get through to the refrigerators of beer. But customers are not deterred.
“Every time we come to work on Oahu, we come here,” say customers Patrick and Dexter, practically in unison. They’re both from the Big Island. “This place is the shit!” adds Patrick.
Sue has seen many changes over the years. She remembers the days when an 18-year-old was allowed to buy alcohol in Hawaii. She also remembers the three devastating weeks when her beloved dog, Missy, went missing and the local newspaper, news channel, police department, celebrities and the entire island helped find her safe and sound.
But now Sue is trying to sell the Mini Mart. “The people have changed, the neighborhood has changed, and after over 20 years of doing business on this corner, it’s time for me to make a change,” says Nakanishi. “I’ve got a ’66 Triumph TR4 all parted out in my garage that I’d really like to get to.”
Download Aaron Lord’s unedited submission.
Critique:
What every great photo essay needs is that one moment to hang its hat on. Whether it be a big moment or a little quiet moment, we can’t emphasize enough how crucial nailing the decisive moment is to making the overall package come together.
No matter how many nice and well-executed photographs you have made the job is not done until you bring home a humdinger. We thought Aaron’s essay was excellent but lacked that one standout.
