I'll admit it: I haven't done much traveling in the areas west of the Mississippi and east of California. Translation: I haven't really seen much of my own country. I'll also sheepishly admit that when I think of that vast region, I envision dry grass plains and corn. Lots of corn. This ignorance of mine is exactly what photographer Michael Forsberg is trying to turn on its head. His work is in a new book called Great Plains: America's Lingering Wild and, needless to say, it put my mental images to shame.
Unfortunately, my ignorance is probably shared by many. This often neglected, underappreciated and misunderstood "region" of our country actually comprises a great majority of our land, and in just the past 100 years has undergone a dramatic transformation as a result of human migration and industrialization. It is now one of the most endangered landscapes in North America, and easily the least protected. So Forsberg teamed up with writer/biologist Dan O'Brien, writer/geographer David Wishart and former American Poet Laureate Ted Kooser to make us care about our big backyard.
Over the course of about four years, Forsberg trekked 100,000 miles across 12 states and three provinces, from southern Canada to northern Mexico, to produce the fieldwork for this project. Underwritten by The Nature Conservancy, this book shows both the splendor and the vulnerability of America's Great Plains. Corn? Ha!
National Geographic photographer Michael Nichols is one of the world's foremost wildlife photographers. But he recently said that he'd happily spend the rest of his life photographing trees. Of course, the folks over at National Geographic would almost certainly never hear of it. Nichols' newfound love developed after a serious, yearlong relationship with redwoods.
At least 1,500 years old, this 300-foot giant in California's Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park has the most complex crown ever mapped. (Michael Nichols/National Geographic)
National Geographic sent Nichols to spend an entire year in California's redwood forest. His mission was to capture the majesty of some of the tallest trees on Earth, some of which date back before Christ. And if you've ever photographed in a forest, you'll understand the challenge this presented. There's no capturing the awe one feels before these monoliths that measure, in some cases, upward of 300 feet.
In a recent lecture at National Geographic in Washington, D.C., Nichols described his frustrations. Eventually, though, he devised a way to do redwoods justice. It involved three cameras, a team of scientists, a robotic dolly, a gyroscope, an 83-photo composite and a lot of patience. (And, OK, maybe it's not the Biggest, Tallest Tree Photo Ever -- but it's the biggest one I've ever seen.) Here's how they did it:
The photograph appears as a huge foldout in the the October issue of National Geographic magazine, which hits newsstands today and is definitely worth reading. The magazine, with the help of the Wildlife Conservation Society and Save The Redwoods League, also sent explorer-in-residence Mike Fay on a transect from the southernmost redwood in Big Sur to the northernmost tree near Oregon's Chetco River. It took him and his hiking partner, Lindsey Holm, more than a year of non-stop hiking to complete the trek of more than 2,000 miles. It also took three pairs of shoes.
Redwoods have been heavily forested over the past few decades and are only just now beginning to replenish in numbers. With the enormous collection of data compiled by Fay and other conservationists, we now know more than ever about this thin stretch of ancient forest along the California coast. To learn more, check out the extensive coverage on ngm.com.
Those beautiful magazine portraits of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are usually accepted at face value. But the perfect cover photo is usually the product of much trial and error; it's one of dozens of frames (or hundreds, if we're talking digital) -- and just might even be an accident.
To see the entire contact sheet from a photo shoot is a rare and strangely intimate experience, almost like reading a photographer's diary. It's fascinating to see how the artist's eye wanders, how the mind works, how a scene evolves. This is the idea behind a new book, The Contact Sheet, published by Ammo Books, which explores the process behind some of the most iconic photographs.
It's also disconcerting to think that, because of the photographer's own editorial process, the majority of photographs go unseen. There's no telling how many works of art remain buried in dusty binders and old shoe boxes. Fortunately, this book provides a rare glimpse at a few of those contact sheets.
And there's more. An exhibition just opened at New York's Whitney Museum of American Art. "A Few Frames: Photography and the Contact Sheet" explores the use of the contact sheet in art, with works by such artists as Andy Warhol and Robert Frank.
Untitled, by David Wojnarowicz, 1988, from the exhibition "A Few Frames: Photography and the Contact Sheet" (Courtesy of Whitney Museum of American Art)
Iranian customs agents are extremely controlling when it comes to imagery. It was therefore surprising to curator Shervin Shahbazi, that they let the depiction of President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's biggest rival, Mir-Hossein Mousavi (below), slip through without a hitch. Some less overtly political images were not as successful in their journey to the U.S.
Those that made it are currently on display at the Crewest Gallery in Los Angeles. In an interview on All Things Considered today, Shahbazi, who organized the exhibit, says he felt compelled to present a different image; one that didn't involve nukes or Ahmadinejad's awkward grin.
The show, called From the Streets of Iran, aims to draw "attention to what goes on in Iran because it might sound cliche, but people have to learn there are other things than a nuclear power plant and a president who's out of his mind."
"Together" by Hushidar Mortezaie(Courtesy Morono Kiang Gallery)
Shahbazi found the Iranian graffiti artists on the Internet, but he doesn't know their real names or ages. Asking too many questions could potentially put them in danger, he explains. Regardless, the pieces are selling quickly.
Down the street from the Crewest Gallery, Shahbazi is curating a second exhibit called Traces of Being, a collection of mixed-media and installation work by Iranian-Americans. The connection between the two exhibits is not immediately apparent. But, according to Shahbazi, both a mini-skirt on a mannequin and a riot on a wall are political statements.
"The youth of Iran are like fashion peacocks and their social defiance is basically their fashion revolution," says fashion designer Hushidar Mortezaie, whose work is featured in the show.
Perhaps this explains why few young artists in Tehrangeles or Tehran would be caught dead in a suit along the lines of Ahmadinejad's.
"Chic Boutique" by Hushidar Mortezaie(Courtesy Morono Kiang Gallery )
National Geographic's International Photography Contest continues to draw thousands of photos from users around the world, and the submissions are anything but amateurish. Photos can be submitted between now and Oct. 31, 2009 and winners will be announced in early December. Here's a selection of some submissions from this past week. Enter your photos at ngm.com, or download some of the popular images as wallpaper.
It makes perfect sense that Jack Kerouac, an unofficial poet laureate of his beatnik generation and author of On The Road, would write the introduction to an unassuming -- but revolutionary -- body of photographs called The Americans.
"That crazy feeling in America when the sun is hot on the streets and music comes out of the jukebox or from a nearby funeral, that's what Robert Frank has captured in tremendous photographs taken as he traveled on the road around practically forty-eight states in an old used car ..."
With only 83 photographs, this Robert Frank, a Swiss immigrant and Guggenheim fellow, single-handedly altered the course of photography in 1958 when his book was published. The product of a few years on the proverbial road, The Americans was a simple documentary project about the American people. And although the subject was a familiar one, it was unlike anything that had come before it.
Check out this Flickr stream of photos from the dust storm in Australia. Apparently it's the worst one in 70 years, but at least the conditions are unique for photography.
Alfred Eisenstaedt is known for his photograph V-J day in Times Square. That image has been in virtually every textbook, every photographic anthology, every war documentary since it was taken, or so it seems. But Eisenstaedt also has some lesser-known photographs. In fact, this collection was almost entirely forgotten until recently.
In 1952, Life magazine sent Eisenstaedt to Cuba to photograph writer Ernest Hemingway. The photographs would accompany a Hemingway novella that was to be published in the magazine before becoming a book. The story was "The Old Man and the Sea," and that issue of Life went on to sell 5.3 million copies in two days. Unfortunately for Eisenstaedt, Hemingway wasn't quite as cooperative as that famous kissing couple.
An infamously surly character, Hemingway was resistant to Eisenstaedt's camera. Only after much cajoling would the writer put on a shirt, and only with the help of his wife and a cocktail would he acquiesce to a portrait. Eisenstaedt resorted to taking stealthy candids of the writer, and for years after recalled it as his most difficult assignment. Very few photographs from the assignment ran in the magazine; some were rendered as drawings. But today, almost 60 years later, the photographs have resurfaced.
Eisenstaedt photographed the small fishing town of Cojimar, the novella's inspirational setting, as well as one old fisherman in particular -- somewhat misleading, as Hemingway insisted that his character was based on no one specifically. More photos from Eisenstaedt's arduous assignment are on life.com.
This is one of those examples of pictures being worth more than words. How can words do justice to a photojournalist who has worked in more than 75 countries and covered every presidential election since 1976, the Summer Olympics since 1984, the Vietnam War, Bob Marley, the aftermath of Katrina and, most famously, the Iranian Revolution of 1979?
In the winter of 1979, David Burnett found himself in a unique position. He was one of the few Western journalists to remain in Iran during the throes of revolution -- to witness and report live the historic overthrow of Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi's corrupt monarchy, and its replacement with the modern world's first Islamic republic, under the rule of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini.
Over the course of those 44 consecutive days that shocked the world, Burnett photographed the initial uprisings that culminated in mass demonstrations, violence and mourning. He also captured the celebrations of revolutionary Shiites upon the fall of a monarch. At the time, Burnett's photographs were featured extensively in Time magazine. And now, 30 years after the event, many of the photos can be found in one place: the new book 44 Days: Iran and the Remaking of the World, published by National Geographic.
The photographs have an eerie resonance in light of Iran's recent demonstrations. They also have a certain eloquence that can't be translated in copy -- although Christiane Amanpour's foreward, John Kifner's introduction and Burnett's narration certainly help. View more of Burnett's work on his Web site.
In the world of visual vocations, to be featured in a Communication Arts annual is like receiving a superlative in your high school yearbook -- only better. The magazine, founded in 1959, is an industry handbook for design, illustration, advertising and photography. In addition to six regular issues per year, editors also assemble an "annual" for each category, featuring the best work selected by a small jury. It's considered one of the most prestigious competitions in the creative arts, and this year's photography category was no exception.
The winners in the 2009 photography annual are divided into subcategories such as editorial, advertising and unpublished work. From Callie Shell's Obama campaign series to a Vaseline ad to a portrait of Tim Gunn, the wide-ranging photographs cover the breadth of... well, the art of communication.
One notable difference this year was the digitization of both the content and the competition. Over 90 percent of the submissions were sent electronically. The jury also noted, some with dismay, the undeniable evolution of photography -- how many submissions leaned more toward illustration than photography after heavy post-production.
To get an idea of who's who in the photography annual, owner and editor Patrick Coyne sent us a selection of winners in various categories. For more information, check out the Communication Arts Web site.
Jack Kightlinger (Ricardo Thomas/Courtesy of the Gerald R. Ford Presidential Library)
By Claire O'Neill
Jack Kightlinger, a retired White House staff photographer, died on Monday. During his career he photographed five presidential administrations, over 19 years. Kightlinger, 77, died after a car accident. His wife, Adele, who was also in the car, died in a hospital the following day.
President Lyndon B. Johnson listens to tape sent by his son-in-law, Captain Charles Robb from Vietnam, 1968. (Jack Kightlinger/National Archives)
Richard M. Nixon is greeted by school children during a campaign stop in 1972. (Jack Kightlinger/National Archives)
Gerald R. Ford and Betty Ford await the arrival of Saddam Hussein at the White House, 1974. (Jack Kightlinger/Courtesy of the Gerald R. Ford Presidential Library)
Every year, National Geographic's International Photography Contest draws thousands of photos from users around the world. Winners will be entered into the Worldwide International Photography Contest. You can submit up to six photos in three categories -- People, Places and Nature -- between now and Oct. 31, 2009. Winners will be announced in early December. Here's a selection of some recent submissions. Enter your photos at ngm.com, or just vote for other photographs.
Two weeks ago we saw what New York Harbor would have looked like way back in Henry Hudson's day. Now fast-forward to see how time has rendered that lush landscape in steel and concrete. The Edge of New York: Waterfront Photographs, an exhibition currently at the Museum of the City of New York, shows the ever-evolving landscape of New York's urban coast, with both historical images and the work of contemporary landscape photographers Diane Cook and Len Jenshel.
Cook and Jenshel's project, several years in the making, is about "the confluence of recreation and commerce, development and conservation, nature and architecture," as Jenshel put it. They were granted special access to areas previously restricted along the waterfront, bringing a rarely seen part of the city to public attention. Over the course of just a few years, they've documented many parts of the waterfront evolving from post-industrial banks to recreational hot spots, although much of it remains in disrepair.
Fitting with this week's theme of married photographers, Cook and Jenshel have been collaborating since the early '90s and are two of America's pre-eminent landscape photographers. Dilapidated buildings, railroad tracks and shipping yards may not be typically associated with traditional landscape photography. But Cook and Jenshel focus on man's interaction with the natural landscape -- examining our footprints while omitting us from the frame.
Berenice Abbott, Downtown Skyport, Foot of Wall Street, 1936
Courtesy Museum of the City of New York
Cook works almost exclusively in black and white and Jenshel does color, but somehow the alternating rhythm works. Studying with the likes of Garry Winogrand, Jenshel was one of those first photographic rebels to decide that color had a place in fine art photography in the 1970s. Cook, on the other hand, got her start in painting and sculpture before an internship with esteemed photographer Larry Fink. Together they are two of the foremost living fine art photographers, still working in medium format film and frequently crossing over into commercial work.
Learn more about the exhibition, which will run through November 29, on the museum's Web site. And be sure to check out the photographers' site.
It's hard to imagine two people spending 20 years in the middle of nowhere and not getting sick of each other. Dereck and Beverly Joubert are Emmy Award-winning filmmakers, photographers and conservationists based in Botswana. To an outsider, one of their most impressive accomplishments is simply surviving each other. Ask them about it, though, and they don't seem at all fazed. The Jouberts have a greater cause to keep them energized. No, they don't get bored; they wouldn't live any other way.
As National Geographic explorers-in-residence, the Jouberts have devoted their conservation efforts to big cats. For their most recent project, they followed one leopard for nearly five years, from her infancy to her motherhood. Her name, Legadema, means "light from the sky" in Tswana (good luck pronouncing it). She was named after a lightning storm, during which she sought comfort by the Jouberts' truck.
Over the phone from an edit studio in South Africa, the Jouberts explained how it's possible to live so close to an animal without intervening:
"The non-intervention is purely because we want to be able to understand these animals in a way that [will help] them survive in the future. ... What we are out there to do is to hopefully show people how similar we are to animals, and how these wilderness areas are so precious."
Dereck and Beverly Joubert with a 600 mm lens.
The photographs from this most recent project have been compiled in a book called Eye of the Leopard, released yesterday. Supplemented by a corresponding film, the images are meant to provoke readers to protect the swiftly diminishing big cat populations. With the help of National Geographic, the Jouberts have also spearheaded the Big Cat Initiative, a global conservation effort.
Beverly Joubert explained that leopards are special in that, unlike lions, they are incredibly solitary creatures. Perhaps the Jouberts' photographs are resonant because they share this affinity with leopards: a comfort with solitude and a proximity to nature.
Hear the Jouberts talk about the book:
Photos by Dereck and Beverly Joubert, from Eye of the Leopard, courtesy of Rizzoli New York, 2009.
The magazine has been around for a long time. Since 1888, actually -- way back when photography was still in its infancy. As the medium continued to improve, so did photojournalism, resulting in the cachet of that little yellow rectangle. Perhaps National Geographic is feeling wistful in its old age: It has recently decided to not only dust off some treasures from its vaults but also -- for the first time -- offer a limited series of photographs and illustrations for purchase.
New York's Steven Kasher Gallery will be hosting an exhibition of the prints, titled "The World in Black and White: Vintage Prints from the National Geographic Archive." It is the first of four exhibitions coordinated by National Geographic and Steven Kasher Gallery, in an attempt to share the archival history contained in National Geographic's Image Collection -- a reservoir of over 10 million photographs, of which fewer than 2 percent have been published.
The Dome Room, Carlsbad Cavern National Monument, New Mexico, 1924. (Ray V. Davis/National Geographic Society/Steven Kasher Gallery)
Iron Hoop Cave, 2009. (Stephen Alvarez/National Geographic)
For one month beginning Thursday, 150 unique black-and-whites by more than a dozen photographers from the society's earliest days will be on display. There are photographs of Capt. Robert Falcon Scott's ill-fated Terra Nova Expedition to Antarctica (a conquest for the British Empire ending in the death of an entire crew). A photograph of Carlsbad Cavern National Monument in New Mexico, taken in 1924, shows the early days of cave photography continued today by National Geographic photographers like Stephen Alvarez. Photographs from all over the world illustrate a congenital dedication to exploration and discovery.
This initial exhibition is merely a preview of the National Geographic Society's vast reserves. Stay tuned for more exhibitions in the coming year.
Hear music by the photographed musicians at Take Five, NPR's weekly jazz sampler.
When the jazz label Blue Note Records was formed 70 years ago, jazz had a sound, but hardly an identifiable face. Although the music was known and beloved by its followers, it wasn't until photographers like Francis Wolff entered the scene that the faces of jazz emerged -- and become iconic. Wolff, a refugee from Nazi Germany, was the eyes of the fledgling label beginning in the late 1930s. Initially intended as studio documentation, his black-and-white photographs became Blue Note's go-to marketing materials.
Now, for its 70th anniversary, Blue Note is looking back through its notably long history with a new book, Blue Note Photography. Divided in two sections, the book compares the jazz world of Francis Wolff with that of contemporary Blue Note photographer Jimmy Katz. To get a more personal perspective on the book, NPR jazz savant Felix Contreras caught up with Katz.
FELIX CONTRERAS: Which have you been longer, a photographer or a jazz fan? JIMMY KATZ: I have been photographing since the age of 7, but I became a jazz fan in high school when Nat Hentoff, the father of one of my classmates, gave me a ticket to hear Thelonious Monk and Art Blakely and the Jazz Messengers at Carnegie Hall. That concert changed the world as I knew it.
It's nice to think that those underwater scenes in Atonement were filmed on the site of a lovely English manor. Or that the fiery scene in Elizabeth: The Golden Age, in which horses and seamen are jettisoned into the Thames, was shot along the famous river. The reality, though, is a lot less romantic. Those scenes, and many more, were actually filmed in a giant tank at a place called Pinewood Studios in the United Kingdom.
It's one of the largest studios in England and the place to go when in need of a watery scene. Sharon Stone, Keira Knightley and Guinness have all been there, and Phoebe Rudomino has photographed them. Taking versatility to the extreme, she has photos ranging from ethereal ballerinas in Parisian parlors to horses and chubby babies. A selection of her underwater work will be displayed at London's Movieum throughout October, in an exhibition titled "Water on the Lens."
Style spectator sports like Project Runway and online boutiques such as Etsy.com point to a new trend in fashion: democratization. Although there's still nothing like sifting through a clunky brick of Vogue, the style zeitgeist of late has been to look around for inspiration -- to be innovative and creative even if on a dime. That's the spirit of Scott Schuman's blog The Sartorialist, something of an anthropological study of street wear.
After 15 years in the fashion industry, Schuman has grown to prefer the trickle-up trendsetting of ordinary folks. Camera in tow, he wanders the streets of New York, Milan, Paris, etc., photographing strangers and dispatching daily inspiration -- from snug Italian suits to high-top sneaks and studs. Just in time for New York Fashion Week, which starts today, we caught up with Schuman about his new book. The Sartorialist, published in August, is a stout, coffee-table look book of Schuman's blog content.
But Schuman's interests surpass the sartorial. He said in a phone interview that he considers himself first a photographer, then a blogger and style connoisseur. His photographs, especially in book form, become less of a shopping list and more of a lens on self-expression. Much like his documentary predecessors August Sander and Mike Disfarmer, Schuman finds intrigue in the quotidian.
The cover image to Schuman's book, courtesy Penguin Group.
From his book we can learn a lesson about what we wear. Take a second look at that hoary-headed hobo on the street, Schuman instructs; it might actually be a creative director at Ralph Lauren. Think twice before chucking your mom's frumpy wool sweater; it could pair well with those plaid pants you thought you'd never wear -- if you're confident enough to give it a try.
Schuman is under no pretense that his blog -- or that blogs in general -- should replace fashion magazines and the styles introduced by designers. He's simply giving a voice to those who take fashion seriously outside of the magazine world. During this week's events at Bryant Park, he said, he'll give equal heed to both the runway and the surrounding scene. It should be interesting, he said, to see how the recent recession has informed the designers. Check his blog for potential updates, and to learn more about his book.
A luminous "butterfly" nebula fans out from a dying star, a turbulent cloud of gas and dust gives us a peek at the birth of a constellation, and multi-colored stars fill the frame like a tray of glowing jellybeans. All these dazzling images -- and more -- come from the newly refurbished Hubble Space Telescope in a collection of photos released today by NASA.
Thanks to new imagers installed in May 2009 during a visit from the space shuttle Atlantis, Hubble can now see farther, clearer, and across a wider spectrum than ever before.
NASA says it's a new beginning for the 19-year-old orbiting observatory, and will extend its life into the next decade. For astronomers, it's a chance to probe deeper into space, capture never-before-seen images from the early days of the universe, and perhaps observe the birth of planets like ours.
And for ordinary folks who like to look up at the night sky and dream, it's what some astronomy enthusiasts call "space porn."
To learn more about the new and improved Hubble Space Telescope, and see more far-flung images, visit HubbleSite. Also, check out this audio slideshow of astronomers discussing their favorite Hubble photos.
Way out in the middle of the Indian Ocean, somewhere between Antarctica and Africa, wildlife photographer Stefano Unterthiner forged his way up a volcanic ridge and, when he finally reached the summit, stared out at the sea. Strangely, the sea appeared to be white and black, and spotted with orange -- it also appeared to be waddling. Unterthiner was staring at the sea of king penguins gathered on Possession Island in the Crozet archipelago -- tens of thousands of them ready for mating season. His photos appear in National Geographic's September story, "Every Bird a King."
Penguins are known as being "serially monogamist." Mating pairs remain together at least until their young are self-sufficient. Unterthiner is something of a monogamist as well: When he chooses to tell an animal's story, he stays with them for an extended period of time. A relatively new member of the International League of Conservation Photographers, he has authored five wildlife books, although this is his first appearance in National Geographic.
By Jim Wildman, producer for Morning Edition Photographs by David Gilkey, NPR staff photographer
When we show these photographs to NPR colleagues, nearly every one of them gasps. Perhaps that's because they're not images of detonated car bombs or ink-stained fingers or any of the other images we've come to expect out of Afghanistan.
Perhaps our colleagues are gasping because these images present an arresting display of neon lights, bright enough to rival Las Vegas. Or maybe this gasping comes with the realization that Afghans party too. Hard.
Whatever the reason, the most surprising thing about David Gilkey's photographs taken on a warm July evening in Kabul -- is that they introduce us to something that has become wonderfully ordinary in Afghanistan.
Each week, thousands of people attend weddings in Afghan wedding halls. Young people. Old people. Children. They dress up. They dance. (Men and women party separately.) They feast. They laugh. These celebrations last well in to the night.
During these times of bad economic news, it's easy to overlook the fact that millions of people in America still have work. NPR has launched a multimedia feature today called "The Way We Work" -- three profiles of people and their careers.
Domonique Taylor is a 29-year-old native of Washington, D.C. He's working at a Target store on the night shift, unloading trucks and stocking shelves. The hours are not ideal, but they do give him a chance to spend his days looking for more meaningful work. As someone who's just spent seven years in prison, he's anxious to get something going. His dream is to start a non-profit organization to record music written by prison inmates.
17th-century explorer Henry Hudson had a real knack for making his crew miserable. Among numerous failed attempts to find an all-water passage to Asia, Hudson somewhat accidentally explored what is now Manhattan -- exactly this time of year, 400 years ago. Little did his mutinous crew know, this lush landscape would become a global epicenter. It goes without saying that, were they to stumble upon it again today, they would find it slightly altered.
Although Hudson could never see today's Manhattan, we can now get an idea of what he saw that September of 1609 -- thanks to The Mannahatta Project, the brainchild of ecologist Eric Sanderson. His project, featured in National Geographic's September issue, shows New York like we've never seen it before: rural enough to make any Manhattanite shudder.
The project began when Sanderson came across a topographical map of the region dating to around 1782. The hills and ponds piqued his curiosity, so he matched that map with one from today to see what exactly preceded the Empire State Building, the Brooklyn Bridge, Times Square, etc. Artists Markley Boyer and Philip Straub re-created the old New York to contrast with Robert Clark's contemporary photographs. The result: a before and after spanning nearly half a millennium.
NPR reporter Tom Bowman and photographer David Gilkey recently returned from Afghanistan. Searching through Gilkey's unpublished photos, we came across some images that seemed to merit a dispatch.
By Tom Bowman
The Combat Search and Rescue helicopters operated by the U.S. Air Force in Afghanistan transport medics who are trained to treat the injured during that "golden hour," the moments that can mean the difference between life and death.
The medics listen to the radio from their wooden hut at Kandahar Airfield in southern Afghanistan, waiting for the call. They are briefed about combat operations that day, including where they may be sent. A large map pinpoints the locations.
They share lunch, heaving pieces of chicken onto paper plates, drinking sodas, chatting and waiting.
Suddenly, a voice squawks over the intercom, and they dash from the hut to their specially designed Black Hawk helicopters on the nearby tarmac.
Within minutes they are in the air. Two pararescuemen, Staff Sgt. Mark Bedell and Senior Airman Andrew Rios, sit with their feet dangling hundreds of feet above Kandahar province. Known as PJs (pararescue jumpers), they are trained to bring back downed pilots or provide emergency treatment to soldiers and civilians caught up in fighting.
The helicopter is all business. All the seats have been taken out, and supplies are neatly stocked to one side. There is only a wide and empty metal space. Senior Master Sgt. Walter Bacio mans an M4 machine gun, while the flight engineer, Senior Airman Andrew Gibson, gazes out the window.
In a blur, we pass over mud huts, grazing sheep, and then bank a bit too close to a mountainside. A sort of super seat belt is holding me to the floor, but I'm convinced I'll roll out of the helicopter like a marble into the dust below. NPR photographer David Gilkey is somehow snapping pictures without holding on for dear life.
The pilot, Maj. Tom Roberts, and his co-pilot, Capt. Hung Nguyen, then turn in a sharp angle and drop into a compound, less than 10 miles from Kandahar Airfield. The whoosh of the helicopter blades is almost deafening. Two Americans are carrying an Afghan man, who has stepped on a mine, on a stretcher. He looks bewildered.
The man has lacerations and an injured groin. Within seconds they are hustling him onboard, the stretcher fastened to the metal floor. His head lolls back and forth as the PJs work on him. An IV needle is put into his arm. As he is stabilized, a peaceful look covers his face.
The helicopter banks again and drops into a dirt field next to an Afghan military hospital. The man is carried out and placed inside an ancient ambulance. The CSAR crew rises once more into the sky, heading back to the wooden hut, waiting for still another call.
In the late '90s a private jet transported a group of Houston public school students to Saudi Arabia to hone their photography skills. Ray Carrington III relates this fact over the phone as if it is the most normal thing in the world. That's because Carrington is not your typical teacher.
Fifteen years ago he developed an intensive photography course for the students of the Magnet School of Communication at Jack Yates High School in Houston. The former chief photographer for the Port Authority of Houston, Carrington crafted it not because he had always wanted to be a teacher but for rather the opposite reason: The idea of teaching seemed stifling to him. A friend talked him into the position, but if he was going to do it, he was going to do it his way -- pushing young photographers toward work good enough to hang in museums.
His method involves a complex subject: Third Ward, the neighborhood where the school is located. Year after year, he lets his students loose in the neighborhood, near downtown Houston, pushing them to see the traditionally black area's people and buildings with a fresh set of eyes. Whether they happen to already live there or are bused from across town, the students all discover something new.
This photo, taken by Ylonda Rodgers in 1996, is one of Carrington's favorites.
Every year, the best photos are exhibited in the Museum of Fine Arts Houston. (The photos in the gallery above were all exhibited in the popular show.)
"I'm a traditionalist. If it ain't broke, don't fix it," Carrington declares, explaining why he has no plans to alter his approach; his students will spend their first year getting down the basics of aperture and shutter speed on a film camera. Only later will they experiment with digital photography.
He has been awed by the results in the past.
"There are some that really just hit my heart -- because the image is so clean and pure with light and contrast -- and sometimes it's a combination of what they write."
Carrington's students write about the people and moments they uncover in the school's backyard; a mother combing her daughter's hair; a boy offering a first kiss; boarded-up homes and fancy new condos.
The one element of the project that has changed over the years is the neighborhood itself, which is quickly becoming gentrified. Old buildings have been torn down; fancy new condos have gone up.
"My only regret is not to have taken more architectural photos," Carrington says. Some of the buildings his first students took for granted are now gone.
At some point, Carrington says, he'd like to put together a book with images from over the years -- more than a few of which were taken by students who are now professional photographers.
Come here for a daily dose of photos from around the world, as well as commentary and questions from NPR's multimedia team. You can follow us on this blog and on Twitter. You can also e-mail us directly, join our Facebook group and/or subscribe to our podcast. And, believe it or not, we have a YouTube channel.
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