Elizabeth Weinberg has a thing for subaqueous views

Name: Elizabeth Weinberg
Age: 28
Hometown: Franklin, MA
Job description: Photographer
Upcoming projects: Documenting the voyage of Jerko the Gowanus Water Vacuum, a houseboat moored on the Gowanus Canal; published photos in the upcoming issues of Esquire, Dwell; photographer feature in CITY; newsprint poster series (Fall 2010); Mishka's Holiday 2011 lookbook (“I am SUPER excited about how everything came out.”) 
Select links: PDN’s 30 2010, Interview with A Photography Blog, Of Recklessness and Water zine, Blog, Official site

Describe your current state of mind.

I would say very caffeinated and slightly frazzled, but in a good way.

What’s your idea of happiness?

Doing what I want to do with minimal distractions - be it financial, social, what have you - as often as possible.

How did you get into photography?

Ever since I was 10 or 11, I was always taking pictures of my town, my sister [and] friends. I was the photographer for the high school yearbook.

A switch came on in my brain. I was always an artist and I had done a lot of drawing in high school. I went to Boston University’s art school, which was very tiny in the grand scheme of the universe. There were 50 kids in the freshman class. And between freshman and sophomore years, I was looking at BU’s photojournalism department website, thinking to myself: I really like taking pictures. Why don’t I just change my major? It kind of happened really quickly and I realized that was what I wanted to do.

In retrospect, what’s your opinion of formal photography training?

After I graduated, I was so burnt out on school that I didn’t take pictures for a long time - months afterward. Which is crazy.

But the technical stuff was good. I learned how to develop film. I enjoyed the interpersonal teaching [and] learning how to interact with people.

I would get a lot of flack from my professors for my subject matter. I wasn't shooting newsworthy stuff. I was shooting photos of my friends; that was all I was interested in shooting. I didn't like the restrictions of school on the subject matter.

Here's the thing: I didn't really go to an art school for photo. A contemporary art school education is totally different. That's a lot more about personal expression and stuff like that. I didn't really have that. [My education] was more of a technical thing or it was more about producing work for a newspaper or documentary work. I don’t think I wasted my time. But I also didn't really learn about the business end of things. All of that stuff I learned when I graduated, working in a photo lab and as a studio manager.

A lot of the people I know who went to photo school, and who even graduated with me,  don't have anything to do with photography at all. What you get out of it is what you put into it.

What kind of day jobs have you had?

I was an ice cream scooper. I worked at photo labs as a studio manager [and] front desk person, mostly.

Did you get a bicep from being an ice cream scooper?

Well, actually, it's not a bicep. It's a forearm muscle. It was quite defined because, you know, ice cream is hard. That was a really fun job. It was in Boston. I feel like there's nothing more trapping than being locked into something, where you have to be there. Like, if I wanted to go to Florida or California tomorrow, I would just up and go if I could afford it, you know what I mean? [laughs]

That sort of freedom is important to me and keeps me inspired to take pictures.  I think that's why I got so burnt out on taking pictures when I was in school. I was pretty much just doing the same thing every day and wasn't really inspired by anything.

Travel inspires me. I came back from Israel and was totally inspired in January. I was in Big Sur a couple of years ago and was inspired, never having been there, and seeing the Redwood trees.

What was it like growing up in Massachusetts?

Growing up, it was very rural. I spent a lot of time running around in the woods. I was a tomboy. I played a lot of sports and only hung out with the boys on my street until 11 at night.

It was very standard suburbs - homogeneous, all white kids. I was the only Jewish kid in town. I did these presentations every year in my elementary school classes: “This is Hanukkah. We do Passover. We don’t have Christmas.” And the kids would be like, “Okay, you’re the Jewish one.” 

Thinking back, I would never raise a kid in the suburbs. Your high school is your entire universe. I tell my sister this every time when kids are mean to her: “You have no idea how little of this really matters.” But when you’re that young, and you have no one to tell you that [there’s] bigger and better stuff out there, then you have no idea. I’m so glad I went to college in a city. You couldn’t really be different in my town; you would get ostracized.  There was a very small punk scene that I was involved in. I had a lot of friends in it. But it was definitely, by no means, a big part of life in my town.

How’d you feel about being the only Jewish kid in class?

 I wasn’t necessarily bummed out by it or anything. I kind of enjoyed the opportunity to say, “Hey, I’m different.” I was bummed about not having Easter because all of my friends would come in with their candy and wonderful stuff that they got for Easter. And, you know, I’m eight years-old and kind of feeling left out in that way. I always wanted to have a Christmas tree to decorate. I lived in a house with a lot of other people and we had a tree.  But I didn’t really feel connected to it in any way. It was just a house tree. I didn’t really decorate it, either.

As an artist, I thought that was something that would be really neat to do. But it wasn’t meant to be. Now that I’m a grown-up, I can have one if I want.

What brought you to New York?

I had a dead-end period after I graduated college. I went on tour with Ben Kweller in September 2004 and I graduated that May. I moved back to Boston and got laid off. It was at a lab in the photo industry. The lab was going under because I don’t even need to explain why. Film: Rest In Peace.

I was on unemployment, sort of floundering and thinking, I need to get out of Boston, right now. I happened to take a trip to visit a friend in New York and I ran into someone I went to college with. He said, “Hey, my room’s open. I’m doing the Appalachian Trail for a month. You can sublet my room. It’s really cheap.” It was $440 a month in Bushwick. I didn’t care where it was. This was my ticket out of Boston! So I decided on a whim to move on two-weeks notice. It probably wasn’t the most prudent decision, as I had roommates and stuff. Literally, it was a bad situation. I was paying $350 a month. But I was sharing a room. It was not a good, grown-up living situation. That was five years [and] five months ago; I moved here in April 2005.

I knew that, professionally, I had to be [in New York City] or in another big city. Now that I’m here, I totally can’t picture living anywhere else full time. That’s for sure. There’s obviously the dream of being bi-coastal or something. But for work, it’s so easy.  I can go to a magazine’s office on a day’s notice and meet with them. It’s just necessary.

What lessons have you learned?
 
I definitely had the wrong attitude a lot of times, where I would get caught up in looking at other [work from people my age], and seeing how far ahead they were in their careers, versus my [career]. It was really self-defeating and not productive at all. So I had to kind of make sure to not really pay that much attention to it. Or, I would go totally crazy.

So, don’t do that.

Yeah, don’t do that. Because it’s easy to compare yourself to other people and be like, Well, how did they…? The key is to go out there and get it yourself. But, at the same time, you need a little bit of an ego. You need to be like, I know I’m good. And people aren’t going to believe you’re good unless you act like you’re good.

I also thought [success] was going to come way easier.

No one is going to hire someone they haven’t heard of. You have to get your name out there. And I totally didn’t realize that. It’s so easy to be naïve: I’m awesome; they’re going to hire me. But it’s constantly pounding the pavement. A lot of the first publication jobs that I had were referrals. And that way, I would have a foot in the door. Cold emailing people is so difficult. I can understand: [editors] don’t want to filter through all of this stuff.

It’s so hard to get through the static of all the other people doing the same thing, publication-wise. I’m definitely proactive about it and reach out to a lot of publications. It’s such a slow process. It’s very cumulative. You shoot for tiny little publications. You shoot in the front [of the book]. And, literally, as the years go on, they’ll give you bigger assignments in the main part of the magazine.

What about representation? How hard is it to get an agent?

I’m in a period of flux with that, right now. It’s a common misconception that having a rep will guarantee you work. Because the two biggest jobs I ever had I [obtained] on my own, last year.

It costs a lot of money to have a rep. You constantly have to pay for promos and trade shows. And then you give them a commission if you have work that pays you. I didn’t realize this, at first, [but] it’s absolutely true that you’re married to your agent. You need to have a relationship that’s healthy, where you feed off of each other.

I think that, early on, I wanted to have a rep just so I could feel validated. But that wasn’t the right decision. I needed to have an agency that would fit with my style, where other photographers were more my peers than strangers. The agency should be one that is often called upon for the work that I do - instead of trying to mold me into their brand.

So, I don’t think [having an agent] is necessary, [except with] invoicing and estimating. When you do an estimate, it’s like this massive spreadsheet. Who knew that you needed to have an animal wrangler on set if you have a dog? Who knew that you needed to have a studio teacher on set if you have kids on the shoot? [School] didn’t teach me any of that stuff. That’s what I learned from agents, who helped me put together estimates. That’s very helpful. But I think you can market yourself, individually. And I don’t think people will judge you [on] whether you have a rep or not. If you’re in with the right rep, and it works for you, then that’s awesome. I think that for me, for now, it’s good to be solo. 

What do you like to shoot?

Going Places Doing Stuff was my ideal: something that I’m doing, that I enjoy, that I’m [photographing] at the same time. Like going swimming or a road trip, something documentary. It’s totally spontaneous. 

Have you ever had a difficult subject?

Oh man, I have had difficult subjects.

How do you deal with them?

My friends think that I’m really abrasive and high-strung because I’m crazed and energetic all the time. But I’m really good at being diplomatic and calm. It’s weird. When I’m in a photo shoot, [I] totally switch [to] being the most Zen person that’s ever existed, even with the chaos, [when] things are falling apart.

What are subjects doing when they’re being difficult?

A lot of times they are self-conscious to the point where they won’t work with you. They’re like, “Let’s get this over with.” I always say that any [discomfort] will show up in a photo tenfold than it does in real life. And I try to keep my photo shoots really low-key, production-wise. I don’t like lights. I don’t like sets.

I’ve had some pretty gnarly shoots in terms of trying to get a subject [to feel comfortable]. I’m not naming names. [She is] relatively well-known and really uncomfortable in front of the camera. It kind of bummed me out a little. She had this manager who was hovering. And it’s when people have their “people” around [that] destroys any possibility of having real interaction with that person.

I know that it’s a necessary thing.  I don’t mind art directors or creative people on the  magazine end of things. But if the PR person and the manager’s there, it’s almost like there’s a filter.

So you have a conversation and try to get an off-the-cuff moment or something. Otherwise, it’s going to be boring. And that’s lame. 

Do you ever hesitate to shoot?

That’s only happened with people that I’ve known, that are really intimidating. Then I feel dumb for not just doing it. I’m usually not that shy.
 
What’s intimidating about them?

I don’t know how to describe it. I was hanging out with a musician friend and I felt like [I] wasn't being a friend to him. It was like I was being a music journalist. I was crossing a line, being a friend and taking a photo of someone, versus me taking a photo of him because he was a musician. I felt weird about that. But that's the only thing that would kind of make me hesitate. Otherwise, I don’t hesitate. I was probably over-thinking it; it didn't matter at all. 

Can I ask what you shoot with?

I shoot, unfortunately, mostly digital now with a Canon 5D. But I’m pretty proud of the fact that I can make my digital look as film-y as possible. And I use a medium format Mamiya RB67, a monster, and various little point-and-shoot, 35mm cameras.

I carry a film camera with me all the time for day-to-day stuff.  It’s an Olympus Stylus Epic. It’s  kind of beat up.

It looks like a digital camera.

It’s really small. But it’s got a really fast lens.

I read an interview where you talk about digital versus film, and how there’s a certain processing to that.

A lot of people are like, “What’s your secret?” I’m not going to tell you my secret. [laughs]

However, I was really excited to do that blog post about guessing digital or film. Did you see that one? One person got it right.

Is the answer the reverse of what you would expect?

Yeah. People think it’s film when it’s not. So I’m successful in tricking them. [laughs]

I know that you prefer natural light. A lot of your shots also contain water. Can you talk about shooting with natural light and water?

When people talk about my photos they always say that it reminds them of their own memories, in a way. And that is one of the highest compliments that I could get. It’s the only reason why I take pictures in the first place, to have a mental snapshot. And natural light is by far the most flattering; it’s the most unpredictable.

Even right now, the color of your skin is different than what it would be at noon. And it goes with the whole unobtrusive thing. I can just have my camera and take a picture. It’s not all of these production things likes lights and flashes. Everything looks so much better now; the sun right now is awesome.

And the water stuff?

This all came about two years ago when I got underwater housing for my little digital camera. It’s a Canon G9. It’s old; it’s from 2008.

I was inspired by looking at my contacts' photos on flickr. I was like, I really like being in the ocean and swimming.  Why don’t I combine the two? I realized that it turns everything into a cool game of trying to get good photos in the water because of the delay. The housing is made for the camera. [The camera housing] latches [and] floats. [The camera] fits perfectly inside. Press a button and a spring hits the shutter; it’s a two-second delay.

Everything looks so rad. Because you don’t think about the ocean stopped to 1/125 of a second and what the water’s actually doing. Huge drops of it [and] how people look when they’re in the ocean. It almost looks violent. It’s this crazy force. You don’t even think about it when it’s happening. Lots of people on the beach take a picture of the ocean, but not the other way around; it’s a different perspective. 

What’s offensive to you?
 
I get very offended by the mentality of drivers in New York City who think that they can get away with murder. It’s like there's a divide. When they're in a car, everyone on the outside is not a human being. As a bicyclist, it's horrifying. That’s the one thing that freaks me out, constantly. Because I live it every day. I have been nearly killed several times by people who, literally, do not care if they kill you.

The other thing that bums me out is the ageism of photography,  this idea that you need to have been in the business for a certain amount of years before you're worth anything. When I go to meetings, I realize now that I kind of have to make sure that they know that I’m not just out of school. Because people judge you based on how old you are or how long you've been around. Which kind of sucks. [laughs]

Do you ever feel like you want more?

I always want more.

How would you define more for yourself?

That's why I do anything. More work, even though I’m sort of frazzled, at the moment. More travel. More money, obviously. Who doesn't want more money? Even though I don't make a ton of money, being productive is way more fulfilling than some job where I show up in the financial industry, making six-figures. That’s not how I want to live.  So I constantly want more of everything, to a fault, where I'm not satisfied. That's how people, who are driven, are.

What’s the most difficult thing that you’ve ever had to do?
 
I guess it would have to be deciding to eschew a steady paycheck to dive into a life of doing what I love - not what will pay the bills. Which is extremely terrifying when the alternative to succeeding is not being able to pay rent or eat.  There were a lot of sleepless nights; hell, there still are. But it was a combination of determination, hard work, and believing in my work that has brought me to where I am today. I still have a long way to go, and I don't imagine it will ever stop. But I think that the big jump I made was the hardest part.

What’s the best and worst thing about being a freelance photographer?

If you’re a photographer, you love it. You have to or else you wouldn't do it. Because everything but shooting, the logistical stuff, pretty much sucks. The best thing is being able to do what I enjoy, have it inspire people, and have it in magazines; it's a really cool feeling.

The worst is that you're constantly in competition, making sure you’re one step ahead of everyone else, and not knowing where the next pay check is going to come from. [You have] to pay money to market yourself. It’s a constant. I feel like I've used the word constant a lot. It's a constant constant constant. The uncertainty sucks. But then you have a shoot day and everything is awesome.
 
Do you own a TV?

I didn’t own a television until last November, when I was living alone. I still live alone.

It was cold and I didn't leave the house much. I was like, Screw it! I'm going to buy a TV. I don’t get cable. I pretty much watch Seinfeld reruns, really. To this day, I don't watch much television at all. I feel like I could be doing something more productive or working.

Do you like to go out or are you more of a homebody?

I definitely prefer to go out. I go out less now than I did in the last few years because I’ve been working so much. But I don't like sitting at home much; I’m really social. So it's good and bad. I’m really psyched that I have all of this work to do. But I feel like I've lost touch with friends because I haven't really been around as often. It’s a balancing act. But it kind of makes it more special when I do go out now. I’m like, Oh, I'm going to see my friends that I haven't seen in a while. Great. Instead of the same old parties every weekend, which is  how it was like when I first moved here. I would go out and it would be pointless. Now it's a little more meaningful when I do. [laughs]

Do you prefer to eat out or do you prefer to cook?

I don’t cook that much. But my boyfriend is an excellent cook. I would normally love to eat out all the time because I like trying different restaurants. And we’re in New York. So we have the best selection ever. [But] it gets very expensive. He enjoys cooking. I’m like, “Are you sure?” He's like, “I would prefer to cook.” He makes amazing food and he's a vegetarian.  So everything is really healthy.

How strong are your political views, on a scale of 1 through 10? 10 being really strong and 1 being not so strong.

I would say a 5. I don’t really have a chance to read about what's happening all that often because I’m so busy. But I’m definitely a 100-percent, Liberal Lefty. When big things happen, when Obama was running for President, I paid a lot more attention to [the news]. It's kind of like being a fair-weather fan. I’m definitely aware of the major things that are happening. But I’m not terribly involved in it, directly.

What's your philosophy on love?

I think I used to have this really idealistic vision of love.  There are mixtapes I received at age 18 that still affect me more poignantly than I can remember anything else doing in the last 10 years. And then I will start thinking that maybe I'm just jaded and nothing will ever elicit the thrill that I experienced when I was a teenager, or in my early 20s. But now, I know that there are more types of "love" in life than the things I heard about in emo songs.  The love of a career, a craft, a significant other, a group of friends. As I get older, I realize I have room for all of those things, and they won't necessarily fit into this canon I had set up for myself when I was younger.

What are you most curious about?

I always find myself attracted to weird, forgotten places around New York. There are abandoned buildings all over the place. I’ve gotten into a lot of them. And I’m really interested in the history of that sort of thing. I’m always wondering what my next adventure will be.

Do you go by yourself or with other people?

I usually go by myself. It’s like my solo adventure. Sometimes I'll take people with me after I’d been there, to show them where I was.

By nature, would you consider yourself a tightwad or a spender?

Spender. Instantly. It's bad. [laughs]

If money was no object, what would you buy?

I think that I would want to travel a lot more than I do and buy lots of crazy camera equipment that I couldn’t buy now.

Where would you want to go?

I spent a few months in London. [But] I've never really been to deeper parts of Europe before. I’ve never been to Africa, Asia or South America.

I don’t really have a particular [place] that I want to go. But I feel like [if] you think, percentage- wise, how much time you spend in the place where you live, it's crazy. My dad spent his entire 24th year traveling. Living in New York, I couldn't do that.

If you were on a tight budget, how would you spend your money?

Four years ago, I would say going out would be up there. But now, I really enjoy thrift shopping. There’s something really therapeutic about going by myself to a thrift store or a vintage store and just spending a lot of time going through everything and finding a treasure. I enjoy that a lot. It’s so stupid because I was doing laundry today and I was thinking about how many items of clothing I had, This is insane.

Food probably because I love food.

I have a problem with iced coffee. So I buy one or two a day; fancy ones. But it adds up.

And camera stuff. I pretty much nail it down so I don't have to buy that much anymore. I’ve got my set-up. There’s developing film. There's buying film. And there’s always little things that I need to pick up.

Then going out would be at the bottom. I don’t feel like I need to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars at a bar anymore. I think I’ve gotten past that point.