Gallery

Harvey’s insights into his work

Biography

HOW DID YOU GET STARTED?

I got into photography when I was ten or eleven. I bought a serious camera—a Leica IIIF—when I was 12. My parents couldn’t imagine why I would need a super camera like that. But I had been reading photography magazines and books by the classic photographers. I knew what I wanted.

I supported my interest through my paper route. A guy at the photo store saw that I was a fanatic and put me on an unofficial payment plan. I would come in with a large bag of nickels, dimes, quarters, dollar bills, and dump it on the counter every week.

When I was in high school I was into cars, girls, and other stuff. I was still making photographs, but I was distracted by being a teenager. I didn’t plan on going to college but on racing motorcycles. My parents said, “David, we know you haven’t been a conformist, but just do one thing for your mom and dad: Try one year of college.”

I looked around, and luckily there was this great art, drama, and photography scene in Richmond, so I enrolled at the Richmond branch of the College of William and Mary. When I got there I never thought about motorcycles again. I thrived.

Then I went to graduate school at the University of Missouri. I was recruited by a newspaper right after grad school. It’s hard to imagine getting recruited these days, but Missouri was a good place for networking. Professionals, including people from the Geographic, came to the Missouri campus.

I went to work for the hottest picture newspaper in the country—the Topeka Capital-Journal, in Kansas. It was the best first job anyone could have. In fact, four people from that little midwestern newspaper are at the Geographic now.

After two and a half years, at 23, I thought I was in a rut. I wanted to take a shot at the big time back East. I wanted to try for the big magazines: Life, Look, NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC—the picture magazines.

I couldn’t figure out how to do it. I decided to go for a grant from the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, in Richmond, and I got it. It gave me enough money and psychological energy to spend a year doing a color photo-essay with music and interviews on Virginia Beach, my hometown.

At some point I was in Washington and showed my work to some editors at NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC magazine. They liked my style and asked me to come up with a story proposal. I proposed Tangier Island, and it became my first assignment. (“This Is My Island, Tangier” appeared in the November 1973 NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC.) I shot more assignments, and in 1978 I joined the staff.

WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE ASSIGNMENT?

Cuba. When I was doing an assignment in Oaxaca, Mexico, a few years ago, (“Song of Oaxaca,” November 1994 NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC) that was my favorite. After Oaxaca I didn’t really fall in love with a project until Cuba. I had some great assignments in between, but there are good assignments and there assignments that you literally fall in love with. Cuba was definitely that.

I enjoy all assignments on some level. Well, except the Eskimo story (“Hunters of the Lost Spirit,” February 1983 NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC) and the Canadian freight train story—that was a tough one (“Canada’s Highway of Steel,” December 1994 NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC). You have two guys driving a train full of wheat in a country that is absolutely gorgeous if you are on a family vacation but really, really boring if you’re on assignment.

Enjoying a place and making a good story are two different things. Canada is too clean and everybody is too nice. You have to have a little bit of tension there for a good story.

WHAT MAKES YOUR VISIONS GALLERY PORTFOLIO SPECIAL?

I liked the story. I liked the people. I liked the tension. I like the Caribbean in general.

Cuba is about contradiction. You find that “don’t worry, be happy” kind of culture, palm trees, beautiful beaches, and the things you find on other Caribbean islands—but with socialism.

I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t fall in love with the Cuban people. They were very friendly. They love Americans. It’s strange to think that we are their big political enemy. And either the Cubans are trained to be humble, or they really are humble. In a capitalist country it’s me, me, me, “I did it.” Of course in Cuba it’s just the opposite. And sometimes it works against the Cubans, because incentive is not rewarded.

Being in Cuba is like going back in time. Like the cars, the people are old-fashioned, naive, and innocent. Socialism seems to make some people childlike. And part of that is really sweet.

Ultimately it was challenging shooting in Cuba. I had to set up a network of 10 to 15 different people in addition to a full-time assistant. I had “fixers,” people who could arrange permissions and meetings with officials. I employed pedicab and taxi drivers to run errands and keep an eye out for me.

You have to create an “office” on the scene; my hotel became my message center. There is an incredible amount of public relations work that goes on: for example, making sure the woman at the front desk likes you so that she takes down your messages.

ANY ADVICE FOR ASPIRING PHOTOJOURNALISTS?

I’m anti-equipment. When I teach workshops the first thing I tell all my students is to go back to their rooms with all those cameras and pick only one camera with only one lens.

Wait for good light. You need a lot of patience. I have been in places where I saw beautiful light coming just as everyone else was leaving.

Good photography is about thinking and seeing, patience, and personal relationships. It’s a combination of things. Becoming educated about your subject is important, but intuition plays a part too. When it comes right down to it, photography is about persistence, intuition, and the ballet of how people move.

 

Photograph by
Kevin F. Burtnett