London Calling

View fullsize

@LittleLauraHeald in the early evening night of a London winter.

Growing up, I was always told that London was a cold and wet place with dreary weather and drab dress. I have now spent more time in this city on the Thames than any other international locale, and it is one of my favorite places to visit. It's an international city with incredible flavors, pleasing patterns and a rich history.

London is the home of William Shakespeare and Charles Dickens; the Brontë sisters and the Beatles; Winston Churchill and Charlie Chaplin. It’s a city steeped in pomp, culture and tradition.

I first came to London nearly 8 years ago with a group of Italians for a presentation. I then came for the Olympic Games. Now - and for the last five years - I come for the Education World Forum. 

Since 2013, Bill and I have been coming to the London every January to interview ministers of education and educational professionals from around the world. It's part on a larger conversation on the state of education that we have been working on with our good friend, Gavin Dykes, who is the Programme (English spelling) Director at the Education World Forum. 

Every year we ask the same simple question - what is a good education? It's a broad baseline that allows us to zero in on issues and successes that effect each nation, continent and geo-political region. We talk to people from Hong Kong and Nigeria, Finland and the Philippines, Iraq and Ireland.

It’s a consistently great event. We always learn something new and meet someone amazing. It's an annual beginning of the year reminder that there are passionate people doing good things all around the world. 

This year has been especially poignant as the United Kingdom heads into a world outside the European Union and the United States begins a Donald Trump presidency.

On Saturday morning, January 21st, Bill and I arrived in London with Jennifer Gotrik, a former Fulbright Scholar and University of Nebraska graduate, who was able to join us in London on her way to a semester in Denmark

We left America just after Donald Trump took the oath of office and landed in London as friends and colleagues were gathered in Washington D.C. to cover an inauguration and a protest. 

We checked into the hotel and began exploring the well explored city, trying to walk the long flight out of our legs. As we meandered, we ran into London's own Women's March, which began at the US Embassy on Grosvenor Square and ended at the famous Trafalgar Square.

View fullsize

@LittleLauraHeald with Jen and Bill at London's Women's March.

Finding the march was a happy accident that made for an eventful afternoon. We took photos of the happy and passionate marchers and joined them at Picadilly Circus. There were men, women and children from around the world; from every race, religion and sexual preference. 

The crowd was diverse and joyous, and the weather complimented the feeling - clear, blue and unexpectedly warm.

The Lambeau Effect

View fullsize

Holding Becky's name for her. All I know about Becky is that she loves the Packers and was beyond excited to be at the game.

The Green Bay Packers take on the Atlanta Falcons this weekend for the the NFC Championship and a trip to Super Bowl LI in Houston, TX.

My history with both teams goes back a long way. 

The Falcons were my first team. Back before the Jaguars came to Jacksonville they were the closest thing we had to the NFL. My dad is from Atlanta and I still have a lot of family up there, so we were fans with good reason. 

However, my grandfather in Atlanta preferred the Green Bay Packers over the home-town team. He wasn't much of a sports fan, but he loved that Green Bay is a town-owned team; that the players jump into the stands after a touchdown; and that Lambeau field is always full of fans. Rain or shine, snow or wind, the stands are always packed.

Lambeau became this mythic place in my mind. The Frozen Tundra. Titletown, USA. The place where football was played how it was meant to be - with heart and a devoted fan base.

I finally got the chance to visit Lambeau in December 2012. It was a wet and snowy day. Not too cold, but cold enough for this Florida girl with a waning winter wardrobe. Luckily, the one beanie I owned at the time was a bright yellow “Nikon” cap, so I fit right in with the Packers fans in their green and gold.

Sports Illustrated was working on a book on Lambeau Field - Green, Gold and Glory - and sent Bill and I to take portraits of the fans in their winter best. We took a portrait of as many fans as we could and did short interviews with each for caption information. I talked to people who haven't miss a home game in 40 years. And others who had - like me - always dreamed of making the pilgrimage to Lambeau and had finally found their way into its hallowed hallways.

For the editors in New York to know who was who, we had everyone write their name on a piece of white paper and hold it up for a frame or two. That system worked pretty well, but one person in particular - Becky Fazer - was too excited to hold still long enough, so I stepped in and held it for her.

Becky's expression says it all. She was a lifelong Packers fan making her first trip to Lambeau Field and her elation was infectious. She didn't make the Sports Illustrated book - only a few people did - but she made one epic, dirty-set photo with me.

I don't know where Becky is now, but I hope she watched that incredible finish against Dallas last week. I don't know if I'll be rooting for the Packers this weekend - I will be in London and far away from football - but I'm willing to bet she will be, and with enthusiasm.

Backstage, Backyard

View fullsize

Onstage with the Backyard Babies in Turku, Finland.

In January 2010, Peter Brodin and Nikon Nordic invited Bill and I to come to Scandinavia for a shooting and speaking tour. We were set to visit Stockholm, Oslo, Copenhagen and Helsinki.

During our first stop in Stockholm we were introduced to a Swedish rock band, the Backyard Babies. They had a new song and a new album coming out in a few days and were looking to make a music video. Perfect, we were in Scandinavia with a camera company as our host,  a massive locker of Manfrotto tripods supplied by our friends in Italy and a bunch of Cinevate movie making equipment. The timing worked out, and we made a music video.

The idea of making music videos was always something that intrigued me. It's the merging of my favorite art forms - poetry, music, visuals and storytelling. I grew up watching MTV and VH1 - back when they actually played music on those channels. As a kid and young teen I watched countless Making of the Video episodes. I saw the Foo Fighters and Red Hot Chili Peppers bring their music to life; I witnessed the incredible production and makeup that went into videos for Britney Spears and NSYNC.

In 2010 the Backyard Babies had been playing together for 20 years. The band was comprised of singer Nicke Borg, guitarist Dregen, bassist Johan Blomqvist and drummer Peder Carlson. We first met them at their studio in Stockholm to get to know each other and hear their new song, “Abandon.” 

We all immediately got along. They were down to Earth and open. Funny in a way that people who live their passion always are. Dregen was the personality of the group, outspoken and charming. Nicke was the intellect, quiet and thoughtful. Peder was energetic, always bouncing around with his hair in braided pigtails. Johan was more of a mystery. He didn't say much but greeted us with a friendly smile.

They were laid back and confident. They knew what they wanted, and we knew we could deliver.

They wanted a hard-charging video that would show what it felt like to be at one of their live shows; to show the work they put in and the product they created for their fans.

We quickly set up a couple lights and cameras in their studio and got to work. We recorded a couple run throughs of the song in their Stockholm studio that day, then we all took off for Turku, Finland. They had a show at a venue called Klubi the next night and we were set to record their setup and the show for the rest of the video.

View fullsize

Making some images in the Backyard Babies' Stockholm studio with our Chimera triolet and a Nikon D3s.

When we got to Turku - which is 2 hours north and west of Helsinki - it was negative 17 degrees Fahrenheit. For this Florida girl, that is a temperature that shouldn't exist. We walked around town very briefly - because I was frozen - to try and find a place to shoot a nice opener for the video; something to introduce the audience to the guys in the band.

It didn't take long. Turku is surrounded by water, the Baltic Sea, which was frozen solid. That January afternoon was a rare sunny day. The only thing in our sight was blue sky and flat, white ice. We called Nicke and Dregen and told them to meet us at the beach. We quickly set up a small Cinevate jib and shoulder rig. 

The band pulled up in their tour bus - which had a broken heater - and met us out on the ice. The shoot only took a couple minutes - we were all freezing - but we got what we needed. Their long shadows moving across the endless ice made for a perfect introduction - a Swedish rock band walking across the frozen Baltic.

From there we went back to Klubi to prepare for the show. The band setup their stage, we setup our cameras. We had  remote cameras on a pole in the back of the club, a camera on stage left, another on stage right, a long lens in the back focused on Nicke, a shoulder rig, a jib. We had it covered. 

The guys played the song a few times in rehearsal that afternoon so we could record it. We followed them through their pre-show routines. Nicke getting his mic ready. Dregen doing his hair. Johan setting his volume. Peder playing air drums.

Then the show started. All of our preparation came down to one play through of the song live. We shot other pieces throughout the show - photos of the band and fans, a stop motion of Peder playing the drums - but the the video needed to be them playing “Abandon” on stage.

It all happened quickly. Ten songs in, Nicke looked at me and nodded. That was our cue. I hit the test button on the Pocket Wizard in my jacket, triggering the remote camera at the back of the club. I started the camera on stage right, Bill started the camera on stage left. Our friend Curt Bianchi started the camera in the back. Our friends from Nikon helped protect all the cameras from the raucous crowd. Bill ran a slider in front of the stage. I had a D3s on a shoulder rig.

Part of the fun of the shoot was how unplanned it was. We went with feeling, just like they were doing on the stage. The end result, I think, shows that.

We quickly broke down all of our equipment after the show and got on a tour bus back to Helsinki. We had a speech the next day at noon where we were set to premiere the video. I opened my Macbook Pro, plugged in a portable hard drive and got to work. I edited the beginning of the video in the back of a tour bus with Mattias, our Swedish friend who introduced us to the Backyard Babies, asleep across from me.

View fullsize

Editing on the tour bus back to Helsinki with Mattias sleeping on the bench across from me.

I continued editing through the night and into the next day. I was almost done when our speech was set to begin, so Bill started without me. After an hour alone on stage in front of a Finnish audience (the Fins are notoriously quiet which is unnerving when you're presenting), Bill came backstage.

“Please tell me you're done,” Bill said. “I'm dying out there.”

“You're doing fine,” Peter Brodin told him. “Three people asked questions.  For a Finnish crowd that's huge.”

Then he slapped Bill on the back and we all laughed.

Helsinki was our last stop on the tour. In every other city our presentations had been like conversations, with people asking questions and offering comments. Every venue was filled to capacity. It was a full house in Helsinki, too, but unlike the other cities it was very quiet.  Not only did the crowd not ask questions, their facial expressions never changed, making it impossible to know if they were enjoying it at all.

I handed Bill a thumb drive with the exported video on it. He showed it to the audience without seeing it himself. When it finished playing, the crowd applauded loudly and a few people even raised their hands with questions. In Finnish terms, that made our presentation a massive success.

Over the years we have done a number of music videos, but this one is my favorite. Maybe it's the song, maybe it's the guys in the band, maybe it was the whole experience of being in Scandinavia in the winter. Whatever the reason, I love this video, the song and the memories it brings back.

Catching Yoko

View fullsize

In January 2008 Bill and I volunteered to make some portraits for the John Lennon Educational Bus in Las Vegas, NV. We do a fair amount of pro bono work, almost all of it education related.  

The John Lennon Educational Tour Bus is a non-profit mobile audio and HD video recording and production facility. The Bus travels around, providing young people with free digital media production workshops. Assisted by on-board engineers, students can learn how to write, record, and produce original songs, music videos, documentaries, and live multi-camera video productions.

We were set to do images of the musicians, editors and educators that would be traveling on the bus and a few celebrity supporters - Pat Monahan, Will.I.Am, Natasha Bedingfield, and Yoko Ono herself.

Natasha Bedingfield went first. In 2008 she was at the height of her American celebrity with hits like “Pocket Full of Sunshine” and “Unwritten.” She was fun and flirty in her pictures, and stuck around after her shoot to joke around with everyone on set.

Pat Monahan was next. He was down to earth and smart. After his shoot he hung out and exchanged sarcastic quips with Bill and told me the story behind my favorite of his songs, “Meet Virginia.”

Will.I.Am was third. He showed up for a few frames and took off again. He was quiet and seemed almost shy which I didn’t expect, but he photographed well.

View fullsize

From left: Will.I.Am, Natasha Bedingfield and Pat Monahan. Photos by Bill Frakes.

Yoko Ono was last. Her entrance was like the Beatles themselves had entered the building. Everyone on set collapsed around her. She was tiny and gracious. Quiet compared to her lightning rod international persona. As she stepped onto the grey muslin backdrop we had set up for her portrait, she was saying hello to someone to her right and didn’t see the large light stand in front of her. Her foot caught the edge of it and she fell forward, directly into my arms. 

I quite literally caught Yoko Ono.

She looked up at me and laughed. I quickly apologized and helped her into position on the set.  

Before the shoot I asked Bill if he thought I could get a picture with Yoko once she arrived or if it would be inappropriate to ask. He had a different idea. Before she arrived Bill handed me a light meter and told me to hold it up when she was on set. The only problem with his plan was I had never used a light meter before and didn’t know which way to hold it. Bill had to stop and tell me to turn the light meter toward the light (tricky how that works). The resulting image is the greatest picture ever taken of me.

Yoko definitely knew I was only “testing” our well tested lights to get a picture with her, and I am eternally grateful to her for allowing it to happen. 

Ghosts of New Year's Past

View fullsize

New Year's Eve 1991. From left: my dad (David), brother (John), great-grandmother (Nanny), me and my grandfather (Papou).

For me - and I think for many - the coming of a new year brings hope for the future along with memories of the past. 

I found this photo while clearing images from my phone. I don't remember this moment, but I love the picture. I love how happy we all look - how natural our smiles are - and I love the people in it.

It was taken by my either my mom or grandmother (since neither is in the photo it had to be one of them) at my grandparent's house in Kennett Square, PA. My dad, David, is on the far left smiling at my 9-year-old brother, John. Next to him, my great-grandmother, Nanny, is tooting her kazoo while 5-year-old me sits on my grandfather, Papou’s, lap. It's December 1991, going on January 1992. 

I have no memories from that moment or that trip, but I have countless memories of the people.

My great-grandmother, Nanny who passed in 2009 at the age of 98, is someone I think of often. She was a picture of health and longevity until the very end of her life. Every winter she came down to visit us in Florida and stayed for at least two weeks, sometimes longer if the weather up north was particularly nasty. During her visits I knew that every day when I walked home from the school bus stop I would find Nanny waiting for me on our front porch swing, smiling as I approached. She was the woman who taught me to slow down and listen to “the birdies” in the first light of morning (I couldn't say my Rs when I was a kid, so we listened to the “boodies”).

My grandfather, Papou (who also passed in 2009 at the age of 78) was the American Dream - the son of immigrants who built a large family and a successful business. I remember him as the grandfather who would have tickle fights with me on the couch and play hide and seek under a pillow fort one day, then be apoplectic when I beat him at tennis or worse, refused to play tennis, the next. He was a walking paradox who taught me that love should’t overlook flaws, but it should accept them.

My dad is a rock. Regardless of what's happening in the world, you can find him every morning quietly sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a copy of the New York Times. He's the man who taught me to define my own thoughts because he never defined them for me. 

My brother was my first friend and eternal protector. He is now 33 years old with a family of his own. I’ll drive to Tampa next week to visit him, his wife and little girl. We'll laugh at his vivacious 2-year-old daughter and tell stories from our past. We'll cook dinner and talk about our hopes for the new year. 

I'll tell him that my only wish for 2017 is that it be full of more moments like the one represented in this photo - unposed, unprepared and perfect.

Happy new year! Check back next week for more stories from the road...

Norway is for Lovers

“There is something serene in the midnight light of northern Norway. It is unlike anything I have seen before or will likely see again.
The sky is blue, not black, and the stars twinkle like they do in a child’s dream.
The snow-white mountains glow in the full moon light, bringing day to night in a land without sun.
I like to lay in the deep snow and watch the clouds pass and shooting stars fall, as green wisps dance to the time of celestial music.
Florida is a distant memory in the land of trolls and twilight.”

— March 2013 Journal

If I had to pick a place for romantic getaways, or otherwise - especially this time of year - I would pick Norway. Every. Time. 

Disclaimer: I've never actually been on a romantic getaway to Norway, but it has everything you could want. There are icy-blue fjords, snow-capped mountains, trolls, green lights in the night sky and reindeer literally dashing through the snow. 

View fullsize

I came across this furry friend in January 2013 while trying - and failing - to capture the northern lights on film in Tromsø, Norway. Bill and I were helping lead a photo tour with Dionys Moser and Raymond Hoffman, and the sole purpose of the trip was to find and photograph the northern lights. But weather got in our way.

The constant clouds hovering between us and the cosmos made for a stressful week. My stress and disappointment in our lack of aurora sightings were offset greatly by chasing this reindeer through the snow on a cold and cloudy day above the arctic circle.

The work trip failed, but I went back to Norway two months later, this time for fun with a friend - the reliably ridiculous Leigh Birch. We drank wine, made Bill drive us everywhere (keeping him around is a good safety precaution since he doesn't drink) and were surrounded by the aurora every night. 

Me (left) and Leigh Birch (right). She's British, if her hat didn't give that away.

On our last night, we ended up on the edge of a frozen lake. It was frigid outside so Bill left Birch and I on a block of ice with a bottle of Balvenie 12-year-old scotch, and escaped to the car. We drank for warmth, pretended our legs weren't numb and talked. We talked about her husband and whether or not she should have kids - they now have twin boys. We talked about me and what kind of person I might end up with - jury is still out. We talked about parties and parents. Brothers and sisters-in-law. And we talked about all the amazing places there are to see in the world.

With changes in our respective lives, Birch and I don't see each other as much as we used to, but every now and then I crack open my bottle of Balvenie 12-year-old scotch and toast my favorite Norwegian memory.

Turkish Delight

Capturing video from a rooftop in front of the Sultan Ahmed Mosque (popularly known as the Blue Mosque).

“I was carried here with the wind. I drifted in like the countless seagulls that hover above the Bosphorous. 
East toward Asia, west toward Europe. Tinkering between worlds.
Byzantium. Nueva Roma. Constantinople. Istanbul.
Wanderers. Warriors. Crusaders. Commuters.
They have all been summoned here by a higher power; a calling and a prayer.
We are always going somewhere, just like the current that brings the fishing boats home at night.
But somehow we ended up here. Strangers in a foreign land.
Brought together by the only constant in this city of change - the wind, and that seed it carries of the unknown.”

— December 2012 Journal

Bill and I went to Istanbul in December of 2012 with Andy Hancock and Jana Erb to meet Gen Umei and Toshiaki Ayiogi from K&L - an advertising agency in Tokyo whose largest client, Nikon, had asked Bill to make images for advertising campaign for the soon-to-be-released Nikon D4.

My love for the place was immediate. The colors, the food, the people, the antiquity of the place. Istanbul has been in the center of history for millennia. I was enchanted.

It was the perfect mix of east and west. It felt foreign, but familiar.

I had the sense I'd been there before, perhaps in a dream. Maybe just in a history book.

Every historical period is represented somehow in the city’s architecture. There’s the Column of Constantine from Roman rule. The Hagia Sofia from the Byzantine period. The Sultan Ahmed Mosque (popularly known as the Blue Mosque) is newer, built in 1616 during Ottoman empire. Everywhere you look there is history, made and in the making.

Our time in Istanbul was full. We had a lot to cover in two short weeks. We had to make images for a brochure and a film for the web site, so there was no time to waste.

When you live life on the road, it’s hard sometimes to stay grounded. I find myself sticking to silly routines like what side of the bed I sleep on, what I eat for breakfast, what music I listen to during different times of the day - classical piano in the morning, Americana/folk at night - all in an effort to my head on my shoulders. But sometimes, when a job is particularly demanding, those routines get abandoned and I have to choose sleep over stability.

In Istanbul we were up before the sun rose every morning and in bed well after midnight. Planning, editing and negotiating take time, and the only time we had to do that was after the sun went down. Sleep quickly became my top priority. Yet, even without my routines, I maintained a level of sanity. 

After a few days I knew why. In Islam, there are six calls to prayer - the first is two hours before dawn, then one at dawn, then midday, afternoon, sunset and one more at the last light of day. The call to prayer became my watch, a constant I could count on during a hectic schedule. 

I remember one morning in particular when we were running a motion time-lapse at dawn, showing the incredible traffic around the city and through the Bosphorous. It was a cold morning and dense fog hung over the water. As the sun began to rise the fog first turned pink and then a deep orange. I could hear Bill and Jana laughing behind me as they talked to Gen. Then, as I sat by myself grasping the few moments of solitude I could find, the dawn call to prayer rang out. I’m not sure what mosque we were near, but it was loud and deep and hauntingly beautiful. 

That call was my rock. A reminder to be still and give thanks - even if only for a moment - and I think that’s a reminder we could all use from time to time.

Covering the Home Team

December is one of my favorite months. Temperatures are cooling, cookies are baking, and the college football playoffs are just around the corner.

This year’s Alabama team is the unanimous favorite to win the title come January. They are easily the best team of 2016, and possibly one of the best teams of all time.

In 2008, that title belonged to the Florida Gators. I grew up in Florida and am a third generation Gator, so I’m a little biased when it comes to college football, but I think it’s safe to say that their 2008 defense was one of the best ever. They had been dominant in every game but one, a 31-30 home loss to the Ole Miss Rebels early in the season.

At that point, I had been working as a photo assistant with Bill Frakes for just over a year. I had been to the Super Bowl, Kentucky Derby, Final Four, Olympic Games, and was taking a semester off, interning for a few credits and working as much as possible.

I remember the morning of the shoot. It was a brisk December day in Gainesville. Sports Illustrated sent Bill for an early morning portrait shoot with the Gators defensive line and linebacking corps before their matchup with the vaunted Oklahoma offense led by quarterback Sam Bradford. 

Anyone that has ever met Bill knows that if it’s even a little cold, he has a hoodie on. His hoodie of choice that morning was a bright green University of Oregon Track and Field hoodie, likely picked up on a chilly night at the USATF championships in Eugene, OR.

As soon as Bill began taking pictures, Brandon Spikes - the leader of the Gator defense - looked at him with a perplexed expression and asked, “Bill, man, did you go to Oregon?”

Bill looked at him confused. “No,” he answered. “Why?”
“Man,” Spikes answered loudly above the chuckles of the others, “you’re wearing an Oregon hoodie.”

Bill looked down at his sweater and laughed. I don’t think he even realized he had put that on before he came.

“Someone please get this man a Gator hoodie,” Spikes said to the UAA staff member on the shoot.
“Where did you go to school,” Spikes asked?
“You don’t want to know,” Bill answered.
“Come on, man,” AJ Jones (16) added, ”Just tell us where you went."

The others chimed in with encouragement.

“What,” Spikes rejoined, taunting him, “are you embarrassed?”
“Fine,” Bill said, with a knowing smile, “I went to Ole Miss.”

The groups exploded in “Oooohs” and “Oh mans” and a lot of laughter. Ole Miss was their only loss that year. They were the one team who almost kept the Gators out of the title game.

“That’s cold,” Spikes said back to him. “You should have lied.”

After a few more minutes and a few more poses, Bill told them he was done and thanked them for coming out so early in the morning.

“We ain’t done yet,” Spikes told him. “Get that Gator in here for a new profile pic,” he said pointing at me.

The guys motioned me over, and I squeezed behind Carlos Dunlap (8) and under the massive shoulder of Brandon Spikes.

“We gotta level out that bad Ole Miss juju,” AJ Jones said to the approval of the rest of the defense.

And they did. The Gators went into Miami and beat Oklahoma 24-14 in the national championship game.

The Alabama Crimson Tide might be the team to beat this year, but my team will always be the Florida Gators.

WELCOME TO THE "LITTLE LAURA HEALD" BLOG

Breakfast, downloads, and email. Multitasking in Wyoming.

Throwing it back to the 2015 Belmont Stakes in this week’s blog (link in bio) - pictured here with the talented @hancockphoto in the winner’s circle at Belmont Park. Photo c/o JC Carey

Remembering Lucille Kester in this week’s blog (link in bio)

@LittleLauraHeald returns this week with thoughts on life, death and sports in the wake of the Marjory Stoneman Douglas tragedy.

Horsing around in this week’s blog (link in bio)

#LittleLauraHeald in London. Check out my blog (link in bio) for my annual walk around town.

Walking London in this week’s blog (link in bio)

#LittleLauraHeald does London in this week’s blog (link in bio)

Looking forward to my annual walk around London in this week’s blog (link in bio)

A year ago I covered my first playoff game for Sports Illustrated - Jaguars at Patriots. Last week I attended an NFL playoff game as a fan - Bills at Jaguars. A decade of lessons - mostly on staying warm at January football games - in this week’s blog (link in bio)