Photographer Chris Gibbs was born in Manchester, England in 1966. He studied electrical engineering at Leigh College before switching to photography and graduating in 1984. After completing a commercial photography apprenticeship, he volunteered for the Royal Air Force and was accepted into the Joint Service School of Photography.
His tour of duty ended a few weeks after the Gulf War began. And, although Gibbs never saw combat, he credits his military training with teaching him how to “get the job done.” As a civilian, he worked in advertising, moved to Seal Beach, California with his wife Sharon, and in 1996 followed the lure of adventure and migrated, via a VW van, to Alaska, where he has lived ever since.
In early April, a few of Gibbs’s photographs were featured on The Online Photographer, and Dog Art Today reader Nicholas Von Staden sent me the link. I clicked through to Gibbs’s website and got lost in his “Dog Musher Series,” a three-year collaboration documenting 58-year-old Allen Lau’s quest to qualify for the Iditarod.
I wanted to know more about the photographs and the photographer. Gibbs graciously agreed to an interview. Here is our Q + A:
Moira McLaughlin: You had already studied photography and worked in the commercial field when you joined the Royal Air Force and were accepted into the Joint Service School of Photography. Was it superior to your previous education or remedial?
Chris Gibbs: Back then photography was the toughest trade to gain entry into other than pilot. And JSOP was regarded as the finest black-and-white photography school in Europe. So the standards were very high. It was very demanding. The six-month course was old school, high-end technical photography, no history, no artsy-fartsy stuff.
MM: Did you want to be a combat photographer?
CG: No, I always wanted that old-time, black-and-white photojournalism experience, pre-tabloid, pre-corporate TV. I was born twenty years too late.
MM: Who were your influences?
CG: David Bailey, Don McCullin, and it seemed like every photographer, myself included, emulated the printing style of Larry Bartlett.
MM: On your website you write that you “don’t miss film anymore because the whole film processing experience was about as pleasant as a foot full of blisters on a long scenic hike.” Clearly, you are not precious about analog. Tell me about your crossover from film to digital.
CG: I was always a big fan of the Internet as a place to share and learn. Years ago, I remember seeing a digital snapshot online that a mother had taken of her child, and I realized I could never get that shot. The expression, the affection, something so intense and beautiful by someone who was not a professional photographer, this was new.
Then, in 2008 cinematographer Vincent Laforet made the short film “Reverie” on a pre-production 5D Mark II he borrowed from Canon, and everyone, including Canon, was shocked by what they saw. It was the future right there in glorious 1080p (high definition). Multimedia for the masses had arrived.
Soon after, I bought a Cannon 5D Mark II. And around that time I ran into Allen Lau in town (our paths had crossed years before when I first moved to Alaska). And, actually, I didn’t remember him, but he remembered me, and my dog, a Malamute named Mac, who has since passed away. Allen saw me with my new dog, Cooper, (I also have a dog named Austin – get it?) and called him Mac. He asked me if I was still taking photographs and if I'd be interested in shooting a documentary about him and his goal to race in the Iditarod? I was excited to try out my new camera, so I said yes.
MM: Over what period of time did you take the photographs?
CG: Three years and still going.
MM: That really intrigued me about the series, seeing puppies born, dogs multiplying in the yard, seasons change. How often do you go and shoot?
CG: Sometimes I’ll go twice a week. Sometimes I don’t go for a few months. By now I have hours of video and 2,000 to 3,000 stills.
MM: When I look at your body of work I see a tremendous leap from your earlier series of the Civil War re-enactors and the Romanian orphans. Do you see it? How do you account for it?
CG: I see it. The video camera makes the difference. Sometimes though, shooting video is like being in the middle of that knife fight in a bar. It's terrifying. You’re right in the middle of someone else's business. And oftentimes, it's not too pretty. Still photography is more detached. There's more distance. It’s akin to sniping from a distant hillside, and it's certainly easier in my opinion.
MM: There is an intimacy in this series that I can’t even compare to other photographers. Someone commented on The Online Photographer that your work is reminiscent of W. Eugene Smith. I thought about Walker Evans, Dorothea Lange and the other FSA photographers. But those comparisons are not exactly apt. Those photographs are either too invasive or too sterile.
Often the word “unflinching” is used in discussions of documentary photography. What does that mean? Is it the photographer who is unflinching because they have the nerve to stick a camera in someone’s face, or is it the subject who doesn’t turn away from the lens?
CG: Photography is like hunting isn’t it?
MM: Exactly. And sometimes it appears as cruelty or condescension. I call it “sad sack photography.” I feel some of Diane Arbus’s work falls into this category with her emphasis on freaks and outsiders, some of Mary Ellen Mark’s work too, and social documentarians like Jacob Riis, although I appreciate his motives.
CG: Speaking of Dorothea Lange, have you seen that series of the “Migrant Mother” photographs that show several angles framed closer and closer until Lange gets the iconic shot?
MM: Yes, and supposedly the woman, Florence Owens Thompson, and her family were deeply ashamed of the photograph. There is an interesting 2002 story about them by Geoffrey Dunn in the San Luis Obispo New Times.
And Bill Ganzel’s 1979 recreation of the image is fascinating.
Your photographs of Allen are very respectful. You’re not anonymously taking from him and moving on. Susan Sontag said in On Photography “To photograph people is to violate them.” But that’s not true with your work. It’s generous.
CG: I appreciate that because it’s not always easy to shoot Allen’s journey. There have been many disappointments and sometimes I don’t feel like going to his house. But once I get there and start rolling I’m always glad. In fact, I have learned more from Allen than all my time at school and in commercial photography.
MM: Why is that?
CG: Two reasons: one is that the more difficult the subject, the harder you have to try, the other is Allen’s willingness to share his dream. That’s rare and I want to convey it.
MM: Was there a moment when you knew you were onto something special?
CG: Yes, it’s when I saw the photo Allen’s hand resting on the puppy’s head.
MM: What made that photo significant?
CG: I had begun working with NIK Collection by Google's software Silver Efex Pro 2. And for the first time with digital I got the organic film-grain look I was going for. In fact, now I feel I can get a more pleasing film look with NIK Silver Efex Pro 2 than I could ever get with film. That’s saying something.
MM: Wow. Do you use the same equipment you started with or have you expanded your kit?
CG: I now shoot the Canon 5Dlll and a proper Sony NX-70 video camera too.
MM: Lenses?
CG: The new Canon 24-70mm II f/2.8. It’s a beautiful, stunning lens. And a 85mm f/1.2.
MM: Other photographers can be a critical bunch, but the response to “The Dog Musher Series” on The Online Photographer was effusive. My favorite comment was by Anthony Bridges who said, “The best movie I’ve seen for while is watching this slideshow.”
CG: That’s great. I’ve also shown the photos to Jeff Schultz, the official Iditarod photographer for the last 30 years, and he was stunned by them. When Allen heard, he was beaming.
MM: What is the documentary’s status?
CG: It is a work in progress. But I think it is a very exciting time for video storytelling. I am especially interested in platforms like MediaStorm.
MM: Thank you so much for sharing your insights. I think your photographs are sensational in the truest sense of the word. Keep us posted on your project.
CG: Cheers.
