BIOGRAPHY
WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO PURSUE THE PATH YOU FOLLOWED?
HOW DID YOU LAND YOUR VOLUNTEER ASSIGNMENTS?
HOW DO YOU IMPROVE YOUR CRAFT?
WHAT EQUIPMENT DO YOU USE?
ANY ADVICE FOR ASPIRING PHOTOGRAPHERS?

In 1984, at age 58, Robert Angell quit his job to spend five months as an unpaid volunteer with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service in Alaska. Joining a ship-based team of biologists studying remote islands in the Aleutian archipelago, Angell traveled 8,000 miles [13,000 kilometers] through the Bering Sea, serving as a research photographer, deckhand, and—occasionally—ship’s cook. “Every day was a new experience,” says the accomplished amateur photographer, now 72. “My photography moved to a whole new level.” In the ensuing 15 years, Angell has taken on numerous volunteer photography projects for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and the Alaska State Parks service, among other organizations. For Angell, such assignments combine his love of photography and the outdoors with his desire “to give something back.” Angell has traveled—and photographed—extensively in Africa, Antarctica, Asia, and Europe. His prize-winning photographs include a snapshot of a Moroccan cat, which won a Merit Prize in this year’s contest.

In 1982, my wife and I went off on a backpacking trip to Alaska. I met an outdoor guide who was doing a great deal of volunteer work up there for the [U.S.] Fish and Wildlife Service and the state park system. That was a whole new life. I looked at him with envy.

I stayed at my job another two years, but knew I had to bite the bullet. So I applied. I got a letter shortly back saying, “We’d like you to come up here as a volunteer.” Well, that was great. But on the other hand, I hadn’t decided to quit my job yet.

Most of these [federal wildlife and state park] organizations—despite the fact that they have a lot of authority—have very little money for photography and documentary work. They can’t program for [it], or they don’t have the people with the interest, skills, or time. It was a real useful niche for me.

You really have to sell yourself. I had a lot of boating, photography, and other necessary skills. These organizations don’t want somebody to come up and get into trouble. [As it was,] I almost lost my life the first tour because the Zodiac that I was driving flipped. The water was about 38°F. Fortunately, I was picked up and rescued.

It all starts with a basic ingredient: You have to have a passion for your subject. A lot of people don’t generate that. But if you have that enthusiasm, then your whole body—eyes, mind—is alert to something that’s going to be unusual, something more than just a passing image.

When I approach a subject—whether it’s a fox or a group of smiling kids or a fisherman or a sunset—I really want to [document] it. I’m prepared to stay there for an hour getting wet or to wade out in the muck—whatever I have to do. That moment is going to be my reward. The mechanics kick in after that.

Most of my improvements have been through new films and equipment. With the Nikon line of autofocus equipment, for example, I can nail a flying bird that you could never focus in with a long lens. The bird would be long gone.

Take that cat, for example. [A Merit Prize winner in this year’s contest.] He was on a high ledge and couldn’t get off. The only thing close to him was that ladder. I knew he had to do something. I might have missed a crucial point as he started to move if I had to focus manually.

I have a Nikon F5 right now. I rather like tight shots, so I use long lenses. With people, an 80-200mm zoom lens enables you to be far enough away from a subject that you’re not in their danger zone. For scenery I use a 35-70mm zoom lens. For wildlife, I’d lug around a 300mm fixed lens with 1.4x and 2x teleconverters.

I stick to two films: Fuji Velvia and Provia 100F. They’re color-saturated films and are pretty consistent.

It’s a lifelong quest. The photography is only one of the rewards. I’ve experienced and seen so many things, just because of my camera. The images I’ve produced are just the results.