The attentive art director

The editors that we show our work to are in the same business for the same reasons and they look at the issues in the world that we're working on. They have ideas about it and they are very subjective just as we are. So we submit our work to people who are going to react to it subjectively, because we can't expect something else, but they're also people with view points and with specific concerns which may not be what we have. And they're going to tell our story, because most often we do not have the opportunity to work with the art directors and the editors who shape the story. We don't have the opportunity to influence the choice of photographs or how they are used to tell the story.

New York City. 2000. Women In Mourning anti-police brutality rally. Paul Fusco/Magnum Photos

So there is a potential intellectual divide between the photographer and the art director?
There is always something. They may love your stuff; they may love the story. That doesn't mean they are going to interpret it the same way you want them to. ‘This is what it means to me. This is the way I want you to get it; I want you to go from A to Z in my order of things not in your order of things.’

Eugene Smith is famous for really being demanding, but what are some of the ways you can actually communicate to the editor your preferences?
Editing, edit the photographs, put them in sequence, make sure they get to see them the first time that way, if you can control it. And talk to them about it and try to explain why it's important to you.

And is that process different if you're working with a specific writer? Is there a difference between a situation where you are just publishing a photo essay and a situation when you have been assigned to take photographs because a writer is covering a topic?
I've worked in both situations many, many times, with or without writers, and most of the time the relationships with the writers have been pretty good. You discuss the story, what you're both trying to do, what you think is going on, what the meaning of it is. You don't always agree, that's understandable, but it's rare to come to very opposing conclusions. Now, most of the time, there's no writer there. Most of my work I do for myself, I'm not being assigned, and I chose issues that seem important to me, then I present it to editors, art directors or photo editors at magazines, and try to explain my story, but I always present a layout and a sequence.

You can't control the magazines; you can't control the editors. 'It's my story now and I know what it means to me and I know how it's going to be used.' They have other issues they have to think about: their audience, the people who buy the magazine, their editors, the boss, the publishers, the advertisers. They're all influencing the shape, the content of the magazine, and how things are used.

New York City. 2000. Women In Mourning anti-police brutality rally. The participants hold small photos of Amadou Diallo, an immigrant to New York from Guinea who was killed by four police officers in 1999. Paul Fusco/Magnum Photos

Do you have good examples of both stories that you worked on where you really felt you were cooperating with the photo editor or art director...
A long, long time ago, I was on the staff of Look Magazine and Look was very unusual in its relationships with the writers and photographers. The editor thought that we were smart enough to know what we were doing and he would listen to us. And the photographers and writers worked with the art director all the time.

And was that situation different for staff photographers and freelance photographers?
Yes, but if the freelance photographers wanted to come in they were welcome.

Who was the art director at that time?
There were two of them but the last one I worked with I'm very, very close to. Will Hopkins. We just did some really good stories and we both felt they were done well, they'd been done the right way with the right intent, the right pictures were shown. There's a saying among photographers, "Don't every judge a photographer by the photographs you see published in a magazine."

And did you and Hopkins ever disagree?
We had disagreements but they were never fatal. He never really killed a story, or changed it so radically that I was unhappy with it. And if he could convince me it was really better that way, which he could do, I was ready to listen. I respected his ideas and his creativity as an art director, and he's terrific.

And are there other art directors?
There is one that I have a special fondness for, which is the art director of Mother Jones Magazine, Jane Palecek, and we've had a wonderful relationship. (Digital Journalist article about Palecek) I worked with her there when I lived on the West Coast, then on the phone, and now digitally on the computer. I worked on a story of women in mourning, women who were protesting in New York seven or eight years ago because of police brutality – sons and husband were getting killed by police and it was always excused by ‘They were nothing but a bunch of street thugs anyway,’ and the protests grew out of the Diallo case - five officers, one small man, 41 bullets. We were doing it by phone, and I said, “Jane, they'd look good on black pages.” And she said, "I don't know, Paul, I hadn't thought about that. I'll let you know." And she did the layout and said it was great. It was beautiful on black pages; it really was much, much better than doing it on white.

New York City. 2000. Women In Mourning anti-police brutality rally. Paul Fusco/Magnum Photos

But also the sequencing, how to relate the images, where does it start, where does it go, what's the final message, what is that final hit…it's storytelling, it's storytelling, it should be thematic and well-constructed and hopefully strong and emotional and engaging. This is a story. It begins here and it ends there; it's not just chaos.

And have there been occasions when you really felt that your photographs weren't put in the best context or right order?
Yes, many times. Without your contact, without you being there.... if you go to work for someone you can't send them two photographs and say "This is it." You've gotta be professional, you have to do a good job for the client. No one thinks or feels the same as I do, you can't expect it. But it's a problem; it can be a real problem. It's hard to get your stories to feel the way you want them to feel unless you’re directing them.

And have you ever had a story edited in a way that you felt was motivated by all these things such as audience, publisher, and pleasing all these people, in a way that you thought was not right? Did you have problems publishing Bitter Fruit, for example? [images of funerals of servicemen killed in Iraq]
The problem with Bitter Fruit is that none of the big magazines would even touch it; they all said, “No thanks." But Jane Palecek, as soon as I sent it to her, called back within half an hour and said, “I want it." And they were the only magazine in the United States who published them.

Is it a question of courage sometimes to get the photos out?
I think I was rejected, soundly, by everybody in August and September before elections in 2004, which was when I was hoping to get it published. And they all said no. I can't believe that no one was interested in the story. I think they were very careful, cautious because of the administration.

So in that case Palecek had the clout to go to the editor and say, 'These photographs are good, I want to publish them." Is that the case at other publications, can the art director create a space in the magazine because they see good photos?
I think good art directors are valued by their editors and they stand up for things. That doesn't mean they always succeed. The editor is the editor. It’s like the captain of the ship; eventually someone makes the decision. I can't make any judgments on those relationships because the only ones I know about are the ones I've worked with like Will, and his predecessor Alan Hurlburt, a fantastic guy, and Jane.

Did you ever, on any occasion, feel compelled to take back your photographs because a photo editor or an art director has been difficult to work with?
Well, you never know what's going happen until after it's published. You're always hopeful.

Have you ever wished you did?
I've been disappointed a lot. I think we all have. They don't always choose the best picture; they're not always telling the same story that you think is the most important part of it. I think it was very important for the people of the United States to realize that American soldiers really are getting killed in Iraq, and there are families that are really grieving and it's a horrible, horrible loss. It's a huge penalty to pay for a big mistake. And the national media says, in effect, “We can't talk about that. We can't.” Why? Why can't they talk about that? It's self-imposed censorship.

You said no one would publish it, but did anyone say they'd publish the less offensive photographs?
No, they don't give a reason, they just say no.

I tried to sell Chernobyl after my first visit in 1997. And Life magazine was still around then. Look was gone, all the big magazines were gone except for Life. I sent them my photos, they sent them back with a "NO" and Sue [Brisk – Magnum New York’s Editorial Director] said, “Paul, I just heard something, when they were talking about your Chernobyl photos, one editor said 'Can't he say something good about radiation?'" And they never published it.

But that's an editor rather than an art director?
It's an editor, he's nameless, I don't know who it was, what his position was.

Do you have anything to add about the relationship between photographers and art directors?
Well, it's an incredibly important one. It's fairly hard to get to know them. They're very, very busy. If you work with them regularly you can have a real relationship and have some input. I don't have that relationship with anyone now, because almost everything I do now I'm doing for myself. It's not a complaint, I'm at a different stage of my career then I was 40 years ago, or even 50.