Sunday Support Group: Pictures with Heart (and the Baker's Dozen Deadline)

Photo by John Gillooly Sr.

I mentioned earlier that I'd announce the deadline for the current Baker's Dozen (here's the link) as we got closer to it, and it's time: I think the deadline should be a week from now, next Sunday, the 15th, end of day.

I've enjoyed this past week a whole lot, and I feel honored. (I sometimes think I do these baker's dozens simply for my own pleasure.) It's been a privilege to see so many personal pictures, mostly of people who are precious to you. So much warmth and love and affection. It shakes me to think that I'm going to have to pick thirteen; how do you tell someone that his or her favorite picture of one or more of his or her favorite people isn't going to make the cut? I think I need to stipulate that ALL of the photographs I'm seeing are each wonderful in their way, and that the finished dozen+1 is only a sampling of the submissions as a whole. We'll kick questions of good/better/best to the curb.

Take this photograph by John Hunter:

I live in the beautiful rolling hills of Northumberland county, just north of Lake Ontario, a stone's (vigorous) throw from Keuka Lake. My grandson, Hikaru, is seen here celebrating his seventh birthday at Grandma and Grandpa's house in the country. Though his legs were too short to reach the pedals, he insisted on trying to drive the lawnmower and then, once he got the hang of it, he just took off over the field at full speed, laughing uproariously. I like that it so clearly shows the wonderful exuberance of being so young and happy. What a great joy it is for grandparents to be a part of that experience.

It's not by most measures a great or even a good photograph, and it's not going to win any prizes, figuratively or, in the present case, literally—this won't be one of the final 13. It's blurry, indifferently composed, a little too dark, and Hikaru's face is almost turned too much away from the camera. Yet how can you not like it? I can see easily why John loves it. It's got important things going for it that so many "better" pictures don't: it's got heart, and meaning. John has described what it means to him perfectly well, so I need add nothing. What Hikaru is feeling is there to see. It's an authentic moment. Add in that it's a grandfather's-eye view and the element of affection comes into stronger focus too.

We're seeing Hikaru's mastery of the machine as well—although he can't reach the pedals from the seat, he's got it down. I like that element. I was struck recently to learn that the late Prince Philip said the purpose of the Duke of Edinburgh's Award, conceived by himself and his former headmaster Karl Hahn—I had never heard of it till he died—is to enable young people to experience the feeling of success. "If you can get a young person to succeed in any one activity," HRH said, "then that feeling of success will spread over into many others." What a compassionate and flexible goal: simply to help another person experience success, no matter the way. It's essentially for young people to experience failure, because the earlier and more often they have to deal with failure the better they'll learn to cope with it, but we shouldn't forget that it's equally important to let them feel the good feelings of success, mastery, and agency too.

Jamaica Plain
So let's turn to the old snapshot by John Gillooly Sr. at the top of the post. It's another photo that's not going to get past the final cut for whatever that's worth. But now read what his son, also named John (a frequent and good commenter here), tells us about it:

The Gillooly grandchildren in a running race in front of 20 Edge Hill Street in the Jamaica Plain neighborhood of Boston in August 1973. The photograph was taken by my father, John Gillooly, Sr., when he was 26 years old. He was the ninth of the 11 kids that grew up in the three bedroom house on the far left. His father died when he was 10 in 1957.

The organizer of this "race" is the oldest brother, Ed Gillooly, Jr. who was a prominent sports writer for the Boston Record American and Boston Herald. He was at least the third generation of sportwriters in the Gillooly line and one of the first to travel full time with the Celtics and Red Sox in the 1950s and 1960s.

The participants in the race were all born in the 1960s. (I was born in 1971 and was probably on someone's lap with a bottle during this race!) This image, like most of its kind, has taken on new meaning throughout the years. Uncle Ed, the eldest, was the first to go. Aunt Honey on the stoop and her baby sister Susan, seated, both passed away at relatively normal ages. But in recent years we have lost three of the runners quite prematurely.

We lost Joanne, the redhead in the middle, with outfit to match her hair, in her 50s almost a decade ago.

We lost Jim, far right in the green, two years ago at the age of 53. And the birthday boy on this day, Mark, in the brown pants and vest, passed away at just shy of 50 about three years ago. I was an only child until the age of nine and we were all very close growing up.

This has long been one of my favorite images. Such a genuine record of a very specific moment in time. So many stories rest within this photo. Some very difficult lives captured in this fleeting instant. Like most big families, the trajectories of the kids vary widely and that trajectory greatly impacts the generations that follow. For all of the trials of the decades, those 11 siblings remained very close for their entire lives and produced dozens of grandchildren.

Through my eyes, this will always be a photograph of the "grandkids." At this point in 2021, four of those grandkids in the photo have grandchildren of their own. I've thought about re-enacting this image many times!

Thanks for the prompt Mike!

See what I mean? A description that's full of heart. It lets us see and feel what the photo means to John and his family.

Anyway, these are good examples of why all the pictures I'm seeing this week are good even when they're not fated for the final dozen+1. And why nobody should feel dismissed or disrespected even if they don't get chosen. Because I do respect and accept the love and affection in them, the life, the heart, and what they mean to you.

Pixels on the head of a pin
Years ago there was a large-format guru (long dead now) who had strong opinions and intolerant demands about tolerances. Such-and-such a film and developer were best, 8x10 was better than 120, stout tripods were needed, everything had to be just so. He himself took only pictures under conditions strictly controlled to be optimal; never of people unless they could stand stock still and be described by the tested-and-approved lens as exactly as statues. Yet when he held a contest once, the winner he picked was a 35mm shot of a few kids in the back of a pickup truck. I guess it had some elusive quality, some elusive feeling. Of life, maybe.

Today all the specifics are different, but we still want to argue good/better/best in terms of all sorts of things that just aren't the most important things. Corner sharpness, fractions of an f-stop, how many pixels on the head of a pin. The pictures I'm seeing this week matter to people, and have meaning to people. I'd rather aspire to pictures that have heart first and foremost, and let all those other things follow if I can manage them, than the other way around.

Here's the link to the Baker's Dozen again. Send yours!

Mike
(Thanks to John Hunter and John Gillooly)

Book of the Week

The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk M.D. "Trauma is a fact of life. Veterans and their families deal with the painful aftermath of combat; one in five Americans has been molested; one in four grew up with alcoholics; one in three couples have engaged in physical violence." A tough slog of a read, but full of revelations. And it reviews many strategies, both conventional and alternative, toward relief and healing.

This is a link to Amazon from TOP. The following logo is also a link:

Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.)
Featured Comments from:

David Dyer-Bennet: "One of the good things, socially, about how heavily people submit to these Baker's Dozen 'contests' is that, with such a low acceptance rate, it's easier not to take being left out as a total slam. It merely means some others of the hundreds of photos submitted were at least a hair better."

Mike replies: And often it just means I chose one picture rather than another one I might also have chosen just as easily. Which should provide further comfort....

John Hunter: "Thanks for your kind remarks for a picture I knew was not even sort of good, but sent anyway. You've caught the idea behind the thing, and I'm glad more people now have had the opportunity to see this hilarious and dear moment. Shot while running downhill through the hay at dusk with my venerable Fuji X10, it had no hope of having any compositional or technical quality. And yet...."

Kye Wood: "I think the photo of the footrace is fabulous. How is it an automatic cull?

Mike the sly Ed. replies: Well, you'll notice it did kinda get featured. It's a trick I have of adding a few more than just the "one extra for good measure."

JOHN B GILLOOLY: "Always a thrill to open up TOP and see a submission featured. Thanks for sharing that image that my father shot and the story with it."

Comments

[Cliff McMann]

To tie back again to your contest post. This kind of picture is what smartphone cameras offer to non photographers that makes them different and special. As instant as a Polaroid, and as pervasive as cassette film. Thanks Mike.

[Richard Parkin]

It’s a shame that all the submissions can’t be put up in an online gallery somewhere. I suppose that’s impractical unless you put them in a gallery already in order to view and select them?

[Frank]

Probably not possible, but...
It would be nice if you could provide a link to all of the submitted photos for this Baker's Dozen together with the submitter's comments -- a bit like Shorpy.
There is so much history hidden from our eyes, personal stories like the ones you showed us that ought to see the light of day for all of us to enjoy, even if they are not the best photographs.
Those who are focused on great photos could just try to ignore the link.

[Frank]

I guess that Richard and I had the same idea at the same time!

[Jim Arthur]

I really like both of these pictures. They both make me smile. I can’t help but wonder who won the race. My money is on the little boy in the boss striped pants because he’s out front and his running form looks good.