Visions of China: A 2008 Olympics Picture Blog : Vincent Laforet

Farewell Beijing - it’s been a “Dream Job” to cover these Olympics

Vincent Laforet — Sun, 24 Aug 2008 16:03:35 GMT

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

By the time many of your are reading this post, I will be on my way to the airport to catch my flight back to New York City. The Beijing Olympics will have concluded and thousands of others will be making their way home—some with gold medals, some with memorable images and stories, others with bruised egos and many with goals of practicing for the next four years in order to shave an extra few hundredths of a second off their performances in time for the London games in 2012. I for one couldn’t be happier. This has been the best Olympics I’ve experienced, and while the host country has played a good part in this, other factors have been much more instrumental in making this a “great success” as Borat would say.

First and foremost, Simon Barnett, Newsweek’s director of photography, and the magazine’s decision to have the three of us blog daily has been the deciding factor in making these game more fulfilling for me than ones prior. Becoming part of the blogosphere has proven to be one of the most interesting and rewarding things I’ve done as a journalist. I studied print journalism in college and have worked as a photographer for over 18 years (since the age of 15), but I never really enjoyed writing on deadline, and always found something a bit lacking with simply sending photographs into a publication and hoping the “best one” or frankly at times any of the ones would make it in. There’s nothing more frustrating than missing a picture, or not being able to make one - and having nothing to show for all of your hard work and effort for the day. The blog has given us a new avenue to express ourselves and share things about our days out here—regardless of whether of not we have visual proof of it. It’s been quite cathartic at times (see the “Time for a Little Introspection” blog post) and the feedback from you guys has really had an effect at keeping the wind in all of our sails I’m sure. I know it has for me.

Although I’ve already praised him in a prior post, I would like to thank Barnett at Newsweek again for rolling the dice with this blog and giving it the green light. After all, you’ve got to admit that no one knew exactly what would come of this prior to the games or if it would be a success or a total disaster... by all accounts I think it’s been a success and that everyone has benefited from this in some way. I hope I’m not coming off as a sycophant, but the truth is that having us blog was a pretty visionary thing to ask us to do, at least in my book. Sure, we’re definitely not the first to blog, but blogging was our major focus at these Olympics and it heavily influenced both what and how we shot—in many ways the magazine almost came second. And while some may not yet see the significance of that—or agree with it—to me it’s crystal clear that this kind of two-way exchange with our audience that we need more of in our industry, we need more personal and behind the scenes accounts—and a goal of making unique images that adhere to our own personal visions as opposed to the size of the page or hole we need to fill in a layout is the future of journalism. As you may know, the major magazines have been having a tough time out there; circulation and ad revenue have been dropping consistently in the past two years, and at times people question whether or not magazines and newspapers will be around a decade from now. If these publications continue to experiment and think out of the box as Newsweek did with this blog, I have no doubt that they’ll be around for a very long time. In fact while the dream title for any photographer a few years ago may have been to be a “staff photographer” at some large publication, I can see being a “Photoblogger” as being the next big thing. Maybe we'll need a different title to separate us from "bloggers"—to clarify that we work by professional journalism standards, as opposed to writing at will and without regards to hard facts. Who knows, only time will tell.

With all of the content available out there my guess is that people are not looking for content that tries to serve the “average” reader—that "reader "being determined by polls and surveys. I think that with the easy access to information and online publications that the Internet is providing us with, people will now go to specific blogs and publications that interest THEM. There is a tremendous amount of room for growth in this area in my opinion and my eyes sure have been opened over these past few weeks. I launched my own blog a week prior to the Olympics and while I am a total newcomer to this blogging world, I’ve already sensed a greater amount of energy and potential in these endeavors than I have with almost any publication in my career. I’ve found it fascinating that professional photographers and hobbyists, as well as people who don’t necessarily have a keen interest in photography, have come to visit and comment on these blogs—and expressed how much they've enjoyed them. Although we the photographers have no real idea of how successful this blog has been in terms of hits, etc., if you type "Olympic Photo Blog" this Visions of China is one of the top results to come back from Google—so that must be a good sign.

It’s one thing for us to blog about our everyday lives out here, but it’s also incredibly interesting for us to see the comments, and apparent level of interest coming back our way, often asking for more. Imagine writing about your daily life or job ... do you think people would really take interest or care? If there’s anything that I’ve learned in my years as a photojournalist—is that most people would tend to answer “no.” I’ve photographed people doing some of the most interesting jobs, and others doing some of the most banal ones. For the most part, people tend to ask me: “What would you like me to do?” And I’ll always answer: “Do what you would normally do if I weren’t here right now. Pretend I’m not here.” A few get it, but most are confused by this. Some answer that what they do is “incredibly boring;” “who would want to see that?” I tell them that it’s my job to find the beauty in what they do every day and to get to the heart and soul of who they are, sometimes in the matter of seconds, at other times over a few hours or days. To this day, I’ve never met a single person who I found “boring.” If I did, it was because I wasn’t doing my job properly. And that’s a big lesson in photojournalism and in life. The “grass is always greener” and someone else’s life may always seem more interesting than your own... but never be surprised when other people find you life interesting—even if only for the simply fact that your life is different from theirs. What the blog has allowed us to do is to hear back from you—and that’s something you really rarely get when you work for a traditional medium that tends to be a one way interaction and can become a bit monotonous over time... you can only stare at your image in a magazine with you name underneath it for so long. After a while that wears off and you wonder if people are really looking and/or appreciating the images you are making—and more importantly if you are adequately communicating other people's stories through those photographs. Photography is ultimately not about how good of a photograph you make as a photographer—it is about sharing a moment in time, or of someone else's life, with others.

Overall, these Olympics have been fantastic. While the Chinese do tend to adhere a bit too literally to the letter of the law (which causes the typical “renegade” individualist photographer to cringe more often than not) they have been incredible hosts. No matter how silly, illogical, or downright asinine some of the rules that have been thrown our way have been, I’ve never come close to losing my temper at a single one of the photo volunteers here—they’re simply doing their jobs, and doing them with incredible kindness and a genuine smile on their face. I can’t tell you how many times someone has rushed to open a door for me, offered to carry one of my bags late at night, asked me how my day was going, or offered me a bottle of water or roster at the start of the game. Never ever have the volunteers and staff been this kind and generous at any Olympics. That is truly the one memory I will come away from here.

I studied Chinese literature, history and culture quite a bit throughout high school and college as I’ve always been fascinated by this part of the world. The cultural revolution that concluded approximately 32 years ago in this country has left it changed for the better in my opinion. While there is still the lingering sign of the socialist way of thinking and bureaucracy, this new generation of people is clearly set on being both a significant force in our global community and economy and in doing so without an outward level of aggression. The people here are incredibly kind—don’t mistake that as a condescending comment in any way. That kindness is founded on a deep mix of devotion to excellent education, hard work, and innovation. China has changed so much since I was first here 7 years ago—and I’m sure it will change even more quickly in the upcoming 7 years. I hope it will continue to change for the best—although what exactly that is, is hard to define for just about any culture.

Despite the difficulty at times that Donald, Mike and I felt with the “pool photographers” having a superior level of access to good shooting positions, I found out that more than 90% of photographs that run in publications worldwide originate from that pool of photographers (given that each pool agency has numerous subscribers, and most smaller publications cannot afford to send a photographer to cover the games). I just hope the IOC continues to see the value in having independent photographers, sports-specific specialist photographers, and individual publications, continuing to contribute to the photographic coverage of these games with their unique visions and perspectives. The IOC has done so historically, and the Olympic mission would suggest that they will continue to do so for the foreseeable future. Regardless of the hurdles we faced, I think that the three “Dream Team” members from Newsweek and countless other non-pool photographers had the chance to produce some pretty memorable images from these games. The image doesn’t always come from the “best” position—at times it does come out of nowhere, from the most random spot... you never know. Being obsessed with having “the” spot can become an unnecessary and dangerous obsession altogether. The one thing that has irked us more than usual is not the fear of not having the "best" spot, but of not having one at all. There were quite a few venues at the Olympics where the non-pool photographers had no view or ability to cover certain key parts of the event—and that's a problem that needs to be addressed prior to the next Olympic games.

One of the big changes at these Olympics was the practice of allowing us to go through the "mag and bag" right from our hotels and onto the bus straight into the main press center and all subsequent events without ever having to go through security again. This has saved and incredible amount of time and anguish (you never know how long the security lines will be and that makes you hesitate in trying to squeeze in that other event you're thinking of thinking of rushing to.) I'm a pretty big fan of this and hope it continues in future Olympics. The downside of this, and there always is one of course, is that we've lived in a virtual bubble for this entire Olympics. Contact with the culture and people has been much more limited than in previous games, and on a personal note that's a shame. Of course we've had a chance to interact with the Chinese at the games—but they have been living by the "Olympic rule book" and set of codes, which is a strange little universe and culture in it of its own. I've also discussed with some other people that there was a little bit of "energy" and "Olympic spirit" missing from the crowds at these games—the level of energy has been much higher at previous games. One colleague opined that this change had more to do with the fact that they sold beer and allowed the spectators to drink it at their seats in Torino... who knows...

As far as this blog, it’s been a pleasure to contribute to it every day, and to read your comments every day—I have read them every morning and I'm sorry I haven't had time to respond to every one of them. My usual daily routine involves loading the blog comments when I wake up (it takes a long time to load on our hotel Internet connection) and running to breakfast. I then usually catch the bus with one minute to spare and read the comments on the ride to the Main Press Center—and have no internet connection to respond (we can’t do it via e-mail; that would have worked much better...) On the ride back home at night I’m usually working on the next day’s blog—and then the cycle starts all over again! So my apologies for not responding enough to all of your comments—but please don’t think they’ve gone unappreciated.

A big thanks also goes out to Mike, Donald, Al, Melinda, Mark, Leah, Sue, Beth, Peter and the many other friends and colleagues who have helped make our coverage of the Olympic coverage happen.

In the end, I’m happy with many of the photographs and posts I’ve produced, and I’m lucky to have survived yet another Olympic games relatively unscathed. I heard this morning that more than 2,000 members of the media have been prescribed antibiotics at the Main Press Center over these past 16 days. While I’m never quite sure if we were worthy of that “Dream Team” title, I do know that this has been a "dream job." I’m definitely not taking for granted the incredible opportunity that was given to us: Simon told us to “go out and make great photographs—don’t worry about medals.” And that means that Donald, Mike and I were part of a minuscule group of photographers at these games that were given a chance to go out and have fun. And as a result, this has been the best Olympic games that I’ve ever experienced. I usually leave the games on day 17 completely exhausted, slightly depressed and frustrated with bumps and bruises to my gear, body and ego. At the conclusion of the Athens Olympics, I swore to myself that I would never cover another one. This time I’m leaving full of energy and eager to cover—and hopefully blog from—the next Olympics.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

U.S.A. Wins First Gold Medal in Men's Basketball in Eight Years

Vincent Laforet — Sun, 24 Aug 2008 10:52:10 GMT

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

For those of you that are just waking up in the U.S., The "Redeem Team" won gold today against Spain while you were sleeping. It was the NBA's—I mean Team U.S.A.'s—first gold medal since the 2000 in Sydney. I must admit I wasn't expecting much action or reaction at the conclusion of this game, but boy was I wrong. It was a pretty good game, and I've rarely seen such excitement out of NBA players even at the end of an NBA Final. Spain gave them a good run, and early on they were ahead, but at no point did I see Team U.S.A. break that much of a sweat—they just played solid basketball and had great performances from Dwayne Wade, Kobe Bryant and LeBron James. It was a real treat to see those three and their teammates so genuinely excited at the conclusion of the game and when they received their medals. I'm at the closing ceremonies and getting ready for that—so I'll just drop a few quick pictures in for now.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Three More from Diving...

Vincent Laforet — Sun, 24 Aug 2008 05:04:46 GMT

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

I had to rush back and pack last night after the men's finals. There was nothing ground-breaking and given that I'm covering the U.S.A.'s basketball game immediately followed by the closing ceremonies tonight, I thought it best to pack every piece of gear and clothing that I could, so that I wouldn't need to rush that before running off to the airport in 14 hours. (Quick tip—the single best thing I did in packing for these Olympics was to use a point and shoot camera to take a picture of the inside of every bag and case that I packed on the way in, and print out an 8X10 color copy of each picture and tape it to the inside of the case before I left... this saved me so much time in packing everything up... no more guessing which lens goes in what case, etc...)

I'm now on the floor of the bronze medal basketball match between Lithuania and Argentina—there's less than 34 seconds left as I type and you could hear a pin drop in this stadium.... ZERO energy here right now. hope that changes for the U.S.A. game...

Here are a few more images from last night. The first two are of China's Liang Huo who was the Olympic favorite in the men's 10M diving final. He came in fourth, behind Australia's Matthew Mitcham in a stunning upset that prevented the Chinese from a gold sweep in diving. Given that I've shot diving from the overhead position, beneath the surface through a window, and from almost every possible side angle, I decided to take my last tilt-shift of the games, as well as to play with pans shot between 1/8th and 1/15th of a second.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

T Minus One

Vincent Laforet — Sat, 23 Aug 2008 08:09:45 GMT

China's Liang Huo competes in the men's semifinal of the 10 meter diving competition. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Sometimes, the Olympics throws you a bone. Today the sky was clear and the sun was beaming down on the translucent roof of the Water Cube venue where the 10 meter diving semi-finals were taking place. This made for a beautiful day of shooting, both from overhead and from the side angle. The bone in this case, is not only the nice light but also the fact that the one guys who was favored to win the competition had the longest hair of the group and tended to keep it wet before he dove. Therefore, when he did, water drops would shoot out over an almost perfect black backdrop--a photographer's dream. There wasn't a single photographer worth his/her salt who wasn't looking to take advantage of this convergence of factors and make a nice frame. Here is another version of Liang Huo.

China's Liang Huo competes in the men's semifinal of the 10 meter diving competition. He was in first place and favored to win going into the final. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

The top frame above was shot with a 300mm 2.8 - at 10 frames per second on an EOS 1D MKIII--a 1/2000th of a second to freeze the water drops and at f 2.8 to blur out the background (and at 1000 ASA.) The second, tighter frame, was shot with a 400mm 2.8 at the same settings--you lose body parts, but can appreciate more details, such as the water coming off of the fingers on right hand at the top of the frame.

So it was a good start to day fifteen of the Olympics for me--there's never anything better than when the elements line up for you just right. At that point you just have to recognize them, figure out where to shoot the picture from, with what lens and settings and just sit back and "spray and pray" as we say. This happens maybe 1% of the time--most of the time you really need to work much harder at "making" and image as opposed to just sitting back and "taking" one. What I mean by making is that while you in no way help to create what is happening in front of you (i.e. you can't set things up--you can't tell someone to go here in this spot of light, do this or that in a certain way that might make a better picture, or do something again--that is forbidden in U.S. photojournalism and any editorial work you'll see shot for NEWSWEEK.) Therefore the only thing you can do is to get very involved in studying the smallest nuances of every movement in an athlete, backgrounds, lighting and every other details. You have to take them all as they are and work hard at getting that perfect image. If the light sucks, you need to find a way to shoot the image in a way that will not emphasize that. Same goes for the backgrounds, etc. Motion blur and shooting wide open with long lenses to minimize depth of field are two of the tricks photographers use to de-emphasize ugly backgrounds. Shooting from overhead is another common solution as well.

China's Liang Huo competes in the men's semifinal of the 10 meter diving competition. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Back to diving. I got a few nice comments about the overhead shots that I made of the female divers yesterday. My wife, who I tend to listen to--she's a photographer and photo editor and we work very closely together--really took to those images and suggested that I consider making a series of "portraits" if you will (albeit of real action--nothing set up) and try to put a series together. My first instinct was that I had already made one or two nice frames, and I didn't really look forward to going back up to the catwalk as it's extremely hot and humid up there and I tend not to like shooting the same thing two days in a row. But, as usual, I think she was right. When you look at these images, it's like looking at fighter pilots in their G-suits, training to fight the effects of the high velocity moves they perform in their jets, which put incredible gravity forces on their bodies. Or maybe it just looks like those images of people in wind tunnels. Either way, I've always wondered what it must feel like to be diver doing these routines. While I'll hopefully never find out what it feels like first hand, these images will give you an idea of what it looks like. Without further ado--here is my series of portraits of the 10 meter divers of this 29th Olympiad.

U.S.A.'s David Boudiat competes in the men's semifinal of the 10 meter diving competition. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Canada's Ross Reuben competes in the men's semifinal of the 10 meter diving competition. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Russia's Gleb Galperin competes in the men's semifinal of the 10 meter diving competition. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

U.S.A.'s Thomas Finchum competes in the men's semifinal of the 10 meter diving competition. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Cuba's Jose Antonio Guerra competes in the men's semifinal of the 10 meter diving competition. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

U.S.A.'s David Boudia competes in the men's semifinal of the 10 meter diving competition. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

The UK's Peter Waterfield competes in the men's semifinal of the 10 meter diving competition. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Cuba's Jeinkler Aguirre competes in the men's semifinal of the 10 meter diving competition. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Canada's Riley McCormick competes in the men's semifinal of the 10 meter diving competition. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

The UK's Thomas Daley competes in the men's semifinal of the 10 meter diving competition. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Germany's Patrick Hausding competes in the men's semifinal of the 10 meter diving competition. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Mexico's Rommel Pacheco competes in the men's semifinal of the 10 meter diving competition. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

As far as the T Minus One headline, while we're all happy and honored to have been here for these two Olympic weeks in Beijing--and I don't take for granted that many of you would do quite a bit to find your way out here had you been given the chance--it's been a marathon and everyone is looking forward to some well-deserved rest and time with family and friends back home. As I type, there are 3 photographers passed out around me--their heads buried in their arms with their gear at the ready. An hour ago, people started to take down some of the signage here as mementos. I think I've caught my 3rd or 5th wind--and am very lucky to feel good and "not quite dead yet." Maybe the knowledge that there is only 24 hours to go is helping me feel just a little more rested than I really am--I'm sure I'll pass out for the entire flight home.

Day 14 - A Day of Firsts

Vincent Laforet — Fri, 22 Aug 2008 16:47:28 GMT

A tilt shift view of the first ever BMX Olympic Competition. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Today, for the first time ever, a gold medal was handed out in BMX at the Olympics. It was also:

The first time that I saw a perfectly clear sunset in Beijing.
The first time that I was able to sit down for lunch at our hotel.
The first time that I took a nice mid-day nap.
The first time that I experienced a completely random act of kindness: a volunteer walked up to me out of the blue and gave me two Olympic bracelets.
The first time that I've made it two weeks without the need of antibiotics to fight off a severe cold or flu at the Olympics.
The first time that I did not have to run in a mad dash to catch the bus at the end of the day.
The first time that a good friend of mine ate scorpion and centipede.
And today was the first time that I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Here is the stock shot that has the rings in the back - a photo that clearly places this sport at an Olympic venue. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

48 hours to go!

We're in the home stretch--the key word here being HOME! This Olympics has been wonderful--very likely the one that I've enjoyed the most of my career in no small part to this blog and the type of photographs that we've been asked to produce for NEWSWEEK. But two weeks away from home is tough on anyone. And I'm starting to count the hours until I get to see my wife and son again.

Here is another tilt-shift shot shot from a side angle. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

The day started of as most days have these past two weeks--with less than 2 hours of sleep and a 5:30 a.m. wake-up call. I headed over to the BMX venue for the first time and despite everything that my body was telling me, I was very excited to photograph the inaugural medal event for the sport in the Olympics. I owe a big thanks to Mike Powell for letting me have a go at this sport--although we were both scheduled to cover BMX together, the rainout yesterday changed our schedules quite a bit and he was very gracious in giving me the nod to go ahead and take a crack at it.

A tight shot on the 3rd jump--full frame with a 500mm f4 lens. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Therefore I felt a bit of pressure to produce today. I showed up two hours prior to the start of the race to place my remotes on the field and to secure a head-on shot with the Olympic rings in the background. The venue is very tough to shoot, as there are very few good shooting positions. No low angles to shoot from and make the athletes "fly." The pool photographers were able to place remotes wherever they wanted--for some reason I was only offered one spot, which did not yield much. I knew this instantly when I was shown the "one" spot I could place a remote by the photo venue manager... and frankly would have called it then. But I was there anyway and you never know--some crash could have gone right toward the camera, and I would have killed myself if I hadn't gone through the trouble, especially since I knew my two teammates wanted to be here as well. Unfortunately nothing much happened in the one spot we were offered, so the remote did not lead to anything worth showing.

A shot with a 50mm set to f2 at 1/4000th of a second to isolate the busy background. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

This is a very dynamic sport. The crashes are amazing and a key part. Unfortunately none of the official non-pool spots had a good clean angle of the crashes. In fact, they happened underneath us--we were completely blocked, so the action ended up being pretty straightforward.

A shot of the second jump with a 500mm f4. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Given that I didn't really have a clear shot at the crashes, I decided to shoot with a tilt-shift lens and try for something completely different than what everyone else was shooting. Here is a second version--a little quieter than the first image in the blog. I can't decide which one I like the most just yet. But I think the tilt-shift approach works particularly well with this sport: for one it gives a very miniature feel to the images--almost a doll-house effect. The venue looks pretty surreal to start with, and in many ways the bikes are so much smaller than most of the athletes, which adds to the effect that using this type of lens from a slightly elevated angle produces.

A slightly different moment shot with a tilt-shift lens. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Finally, I ended the day at Athletics (Track & Field), and I didn't really come up with anything that was all that special from within the venue itself. The one image I did see took place while I walked into the venue, during the first clear-sky sunset I've seen over this two week period. I decided to focus on the fans, color and light and shadow, mixed in with a little geometry as I photographed them walking to their seats prior to the start of the evening session.

Fans at the Birds Nest. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Tears of Gold Follow Downpour

Vincent Laforet — Thu, 21 Aug 2008 15:30:39 GMT

China's Chen Xue and Xi Zhand defeated the Brazilian team and won the bronze medal in the women's beach volleyball game. I made this image with a 15mm fisheye lens set to f22 in an attempt to accentuate the raindrops and absolutely miserable conditions. Photo by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

What a day--I'm amazed that not only I, but also my cameras and lenses survived. At 6 a.m., after only two hours of sleep, I got a call from Simon Barnett to strategize on the remaining four days of the Olympics. Little did Simon know he was cutting into 1/3 of my bedtime for the night. But it was time to go anyway--even though I would have bet a healthy sum of money that there was absolutely no way that the gold medal match of women's beach volleyball was going to be played in the conditions I was seeing out of my hotel window. The rain was torrential.

There's only one thing that a photographer dreads more than going hours early to a game/event that s/he knows will most definitely be rained out--and that's getting up ridiculously early to do just that! You get there 2-4 hours early and sit and wait forever--never quite getting a chance to make up for that lost sleep. And there's just nothing more miserable than having to go out to make a "rain feature." You get wet, cold and if you have them--your glasses completely fog up. Every time you pull out a lens cloth to dry something--you're never really sure if you're going to help things or end up making things much worse by smudging goo all over your lenses.

This morning, every bone in my body told me there was absolutely no way they would play beach volleyball in these horrid conditions--let alone a gold medal match. Nonetheless, I called the venue manager for the site--and he insisted that the games would go on. The communication over the phone was far from perfect as usual--but it wasn't the fear of things lost being lost in translation that caused me to second-guess him and to call a second time--I just didn't want to believe that they could possibly play in these conditions! "We play in much bigger bigger storm few days ago" he told me--and so I headed onto the early bus--RELUCTANTLY. You just don't want to be "that guy" that missed the gold medal win because he chose to hit the snooze button and adhere to common sense.

The image above was made with a fisheye lens. It's a shot I thought of making early in the morning before I left the hotel because I knew how unusual it seemed to me to have such an important contest fought in such adverse conditions. Hey--its' BEACH volleyball!!! I set the lens to f22 and used the hyperfocal to get the drops in focus as much as possible... one Italian photographer just didn't understand that I was purposely allowing the waterdrops to fall on my lens... he kept screaming at me to cover the front element of my lens with my towel... that was actually the last thing I wanted to do.

If you think these fans look silly, you should of seen the rag-tag bunch of photographers with all of our ponchos and towels. I had all of my rain gear with me (that I had initially left in my room before I ran back from the bus) and was relatively well prepared, but by the end of the match, I was drenched nonetheless. Photo by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

As I arrived at the venue the rain was actually dying down. Suddenly I felt so relieved not to have followed my instincts to bag this assignment and go back to sleep. But as the match was about to start, the sky turned a much darker shade of gray and within minutes we were all absolutely completely and utterly soaked. Two photographers were better prepared than I was: Robert Beck of Sports Illustrated and Erich Schlegel of the Dallas Morning News were smart enough to show up in their swimming trunks--now that's being prepared!

Misty May-Treanor was dominant, scoring a point against China here. Truth be told, I couldn't see a darn thing through my camera--the rear viewfinder was covered in sand and filled with water. I owe this picture to autofocus 100%. Photo by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

One of the reasons that photographers hate shooting in the rain is the rain covers we use. I own three brands, and none of them work 100%. In fact, they're a total nightmare. They're designed to keep your camera and lens dry, but they make it impossible to quickly change lenses (doing so exponentially increases your change of shorting a contact point or getting the rear lens element of your lens wet anyway) and shooting can be close to impossible at times. If you hold you camera upright for even a second, you now have rain drops on the front of your lens, decreasing image quality to a good degree. Hold it downward and you have raindrops--or in this case, sand--in your rear eye-cup. On more than one occasion I couldn't even reach the zoom ring on my lenses, as I was fighting the elastics on the rain covers for control. It's frankly a total disaster to shoot with these things and toward the final point I just ripped everything off. Problem was: most of the covers had the camera straps put through them, so I couldn't get them off and out of the way, and then the covers got in the way of the lenses etc. Total, total disaster...I'm very lucky that I did not miss more shots than I did today...

Here is the initial reaction of the U.S.A. duo:

Photo by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

The photo above was nice--but didn't have enough faces. Unfortunately, the next frame was a bit more risqué, if you will. It's still one of "The Moments." Tough call...

Photo by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Then Kerri Walsh ran toward the stands to celebrate. Most of the photographers didn't even try to get this picture; changing to a wide-angle lens in the downpour was a big risk. You could easily cook a camera and/or lens. I was struggling to see anything to be honest, but was glad to make this frame.

Photo by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Then came the podium shot. Although I had gotten there very early, I had forgotten to get a sticker that allowed me to shoot the medal ceremony. Had I applied for it when I got to the stadium I would have gotten it without a problem. But I was so set on getting the middle seat to try for the raindrop/fisheye shot that I completely forgot. So when it got time to do the medals, the photo marshals refused to let me go to the position. I pressed on; I think I yelled something to the effect of "Newsweek very important and big magazine in the U.S.--MUST get this picture--I Was here at 8 a.m.--forgot to get sticker" and yes I did speak in that broken English--full sentences tend to muddle things too much. On the third try I saw hesitation or contemplation in the guy's face and I took that as a yes.

To be honest, I HATE podium pictures. What you don't see on your broadcasts are the 10-20 minute delays between the athletes winning and the time they step on the podium to receive their medals. Sometimes they go through doping tests or at other times to do a series of television interviews. For the most part, 9 times out of 10 all of the emotion is gone by the time they get up to receive their medals. It's a total waste of time. But this time, it was not. This was the first TRUE display of Olympic emotion / pride that I've seen at these games to far. Misty and Kerri were soaking it up big time... tears streaming down their faces. Beautiful.

Then a very strange thing happened. One of the things I absolutely hate the very most in the Olympics--and most American photographers do as well--is when other photographers start yelling to the athletes: "Kiss the medal!" "Bite the Medal." It's nauseating. Most U.S. journalists follow a strict code of never interfering with a news/event--we try to just document what happens in front of us. But European and other photographers don't follow such a code, and they won't hesitate for a second to create the moment--telling the athletes where to stand and what to do. The following picture easily wins the prize for the single best reaction I've ever seen from any athlete to these ridiculous requests from photographers: Misty held her gold medal against her eye like a pirate eye-patch... just classic. I'll never forget it--almost as if she was thumbing her nose at the photographers and their ridiculous requests (who bites a medal anyway!!!???), and I appreciated that very much.

Photo by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Finally--this was my favorite moment of the day. A true moment on the podium.

Photo by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

The next step was to go back to the main press center and dry out every single piece of gear, every lens and camera, and of course take out all batteries to avoid any short circuits (that's probably the best single tip I have if your camera every gets wet... take the battery out... set it atop a TV that's on (so the low heat rises from it) and let it sit there for 48 hours... more often that not you'll save the camera.) We then headed back to hotel--and boy were we all drenched.... the only things on me that was dry was my socks. The last thing I bought before leaving New York city was a pair of waterproof Gore-Tex shoes, and they worked like a charm.

I set 3 alarms and took a two hour cat nap. And then headed to the 10 meter diving competition. Finally, an indoor event.

Ruolin Chen of China won the gold medal in the women's 10M platform diving competition. Photo by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

This was of course a total change of pace. Above is a photograph of the gold medal winner. But given that Donald and I had already shot the event from the surface at both high and slow shutter speeds, and from the window beneath the surface... there was only one place and angle left to go: The catwalk, of course, with a 300mm 2.8.

Photo by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Here is Emilie Heymans of Canada who won the silver medal and was a big surprise. I'll admit this has to be the most unflattering photo of a medalist at the Olympics, but hey--that's what you get for coming in second... just kidding. All of the faces from up there looked pretty surreal They're pulling a lot of Gs when they jump off of that 10 meter slab of concrete. I've jumped off of a 3 meter diving board quite a few times in Fayson Lakes in NJ where my grandparents have a nice little place, but there's no way I'd go in head first. I can't image how brave these divers are. After watching Greg Louganis hit his head when I was a kid, I'll never forget that ever-present threat--nor his performance, for that matter.

Above is Xin Wang of Chin - she won bronze. Photo by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Mai Nakagawa of Japan made a good effort, but came in second to last. Photo by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

The last moment of the night was of Ruolin Chen of China celebrating with her coach as she found out that she won the gold medal in the women's 10M platform diving competition. Time to get to sleep and start on day 14. Day 13 of these games could have been very unlucky - but turned out be the opposite. The U.S.A'.s win in beach volleyball was definitely one of the highlights of these games for me so far.

Photo by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Crouching Tiger Hidden Action...

Vincent Laforet — Wed, 20 Aug 2008 15:22:47 GMT

Yulis Gabriel Mercedes of the Dominican Republic scores a point against Mu-Yen Chu of Taipei during the men's 58kg Taekwondo quarterfinal. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

I had a tough time being creative today. The venues just seemed to have too many obstacles in the way of unique photographs. Things just didn't seem to open up--and some days that's just the way it is. You accept it and move on, hoping you'll have better luck the next day.

I was really excited to go cover Taekwondo for the first time. I must admit that I felt a bit let down by the quality of the action. The kick above is one of the few I saw all afternoon--and the one doing the kicking, Yulis Gabriel, lost the match believe it or not. Although he sure looked good in terms of producing good photographs! It seems that the technique of the day was to play it very conservatively and tactically. Acrobatics were far and few between. These were not scenes from Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon by any means, and in fact, as with most Olympic sports, when anything got interesting the bout was inevitably stopped.

One of the few unique moments of the day was seeing U.S.A.'s Charlotte Craig sharply chewed out by her coach, Jimmy Kim. Whatever he tried to get through to her apparently didn't help--she lost the women's 59kg quarterfinal.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

I then shifted over to track and that's where I really struck out, but not for a lack of trying There's one picture that I've really been looking forward to producing here at the Athletics venue--a side pan of the runners (moving left to right and following the runners with the camera set at a slow shutter speed. This freezes them somewhat, but adds a lot of motion blur to the background).

Unfortunately, TV has two cameras that parallel the racers for the entire distance of the race. Without exception, every time a nice photograph presented itself I was blocked by one or both of the cameras. I was blocked four times in a row (each time you wait 15-20 minutes for the next try so it's quite a bit of an investment in time...) and I eventually had to give up trying for the pan on the big race of the night. Had I gotten one good frame out of the four attempts it would have been enough for me to give it a go for the final race. But when you're zero for four, I think it's time to go to plan B.

Here is one of those photographs. I even caught a strobe in the background but to no avail.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

To be honest, it's not like I didn't see this coming--everyone knows that camera is there--but I was just stubborn anyway as I really wanted to give it a go. Eventually I made a last-minute decision and went back to the head on spot as I did in the 100M race that Usain Bolt also won. This time he gave a much better reaction when he set yet another world record as he won the 200M event.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

I was sad to see and photograph Andrew Wheating of the U.S.A. failing to qualify by two spots in the men's 800M. Seems like I wasn't the only one with a rough day at it.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Another day is done and we're all three looking to start very, very early morning tomorrow. It's supposed to rain for most of the day so that's playing a bit of havoc with our schedules. The forecast predicts 100% humidity at 9 a.m. and an 80% chance of rain--just when most of the events are scheduled to start--and thunderstorms.Wish us luck!

Trying to Break out of the Olympic "Bubble"

Vincent Laforet — Tue, 19 Aug 2008 14:28:12 GMT

Tsuboi Gustavo of Brazil (bottom) and Peter-Paul Pradeeban of Canada playing table tennis in this long exposure from overhead. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

I think that I was followed by the secret police in an unmarked car today outside of Beijing...but you'll have to read through to the end to get to that part of the story. Instead I'm going to take you through my day in chronological order.

The day started rather uneventfully as I did my due diligence and covered at least one sporting event--but I was itching the entire time to get out of the Olympic venues to see a little bit of China and to share that angle of this Olympic story with you. Little did I know that it might have been a better idea to stay "clean" and inside the bubble--the artificial barrier that keeps the journalists well contained within its boundaries and away from the real world and any potential trouble.

I began the day by spending 3-4 hours at the table tennis venue, and almost immediately I wanted to run out of there. The sport is incredibly quick, difficult to follow, and once again the backgrounds were incredibly cluttered. Not to mention that I had never covered table tennis, and my desire to learn yet another new sport was significantly hampered by the dark lines under my eyes. I'm finally starting to hit a bit of a wall here-as most others are. No matter how much sleep I try to fit in, I just can't quite feel altogether rested. It's not uncommon to see half or two-thirds of the bus asleep on any given ride, or volunteers passed out on the lunch tables at most of the venues. That's something I'm going to keep more of an eye out for in the upcoming days.

My first image involved going overhead for a long exposure with a 300mm. Of course this was a broadcast position, and we weren't allow to be there even though there wasn't a single video camera present. But I've learned how to work the system to my favor now by using China's bureaucracy against itself. When the BOB (Beijing Olympic Broadcaster) official came to ask me to leave, I asked to speak to a photo volunteer as they technically have no authority to ask me to move. That took 10 minutes. Then, when the volunteer came up, I escalated it to the assistant photo venue manager, all the while being cordial and polite. That took a good 5 minutes. When the assistant photo venue manager arrived, she did not ask me to move, but instead asked if I had all of the proper remote paperwork and releases from the overall photo manager. I responded that I did and that in turn took them 15 minutes to confirm with the main photo desk via the phone (they were trying to get me to move on a technicality themselves--this is all a big game of chess--in hopes that I did not have the proper paperwork and requests filed...but to their chagrin I did have everything in order.) I must admit that at this point, I was having a little internal triumphal moment, seeing how the endless paperwork jam could for once work in my favor. And when the venue photo manager arrived to confirm that I was approved to mount a remote--but just not on this BOB spot, which happened to be the only head on spot of the main table tennis of course--I very professionally agreed to move, even though he agreed that it was ridiculous for me not to be able to shoot from an empty position, simply because BOB had "paid" to reserve the position.

The point is, I had gotten a full 30 minutes of shooting in, without breaking a single rule (well, technically I did by standing there) but I also never upset anyone or acted in any way impolitely to anyone--there were smiles all around throughout the entire process--and I got my picture. What could be better?

When I got back to shooting from ground level, I discovered that photographing table tennis was similar to covering real tennis--it's incredibly difficult at first, quite frustrating, but once you learn to study and dissect the sport it actually starts to become rather predictable. The athletes tend to line up at the exact same spot after each rotation and you can adjust your shooting accordingly. Just as you try to frame the perfect serve, the same can be done for these guys on a smaller scale--it's almost literally a miniature version of the big game. Below is France's Patrick Chila--the entire time I was studying his sever trying to get the ball positioned just right. I finally got my clown face picture, and pretty much full frame with a 400m at 2.8. Once I did, I knew I had carte blanche to go out and explore the world outside of sports for a bit.

France's Patrick Chila serving against Janos Jacob, who he defeated, in table tennis. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

The first picture I took outdoors was just adjacent to the Main Press Center--not quite out of the bubble yet, but I very much like the graphic nature of this simple photograph. Here are two volunteers playing a game of badminton in front of a large air conditioning vent. I like the way that all of the lines work together, and that they too--like all of us here--are fenced in.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Below is a quick shot of the typical bubble street scene. These are fans walking past the gymnastics venue, right outside of the MPC.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

I then got onto the bus back to my hotel. Instead of fighting the fact that the only part of Beijing that I've been able to see on a daily basis was through the window of the media shuttle, I decided to embrace it. I'll keep shooting these over the next few days, and I think it just might make for a nice little series of "pictures from the media bus window."

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Here is a typical intersection shot from the bus as well.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Then I made this frame--and I very much like it. First, it proves that dogs do indeed exist in Beijing...seriously, it shows a typical street scene of an impromptu dog park in the middle of a modern high-rise neighborhood. Notice the Humvee with satellite dish in the right background as well. If you look carefully at the top of the frame, you can also see a giant TV monitor on the top of the frame with video of one of the Chinese Olympic gymnasts being broadcast live. Making a good frame while moving at 15-30 miles an hour can be challenging. You can't quite think about your composition beforehand, and there is no asking the driver to slow down or go in reverse... but that's part of the challenge behind these pictures.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

OK--so here comes the part with the secret police. As the end of the day approached, I called a friend Zach Honig who has been publishing a blog from here for well over a month, and asked if he could help me arrange a translator and to have a taxi drive us outside of Beijing. My intent was rather innocent--I simply wanted to make an image of a more rural area with people watching the Olympics on TV.

Trying to get this concept through to the translator and cab driver proved incredibly difficult. At first they dropped us off in a tourist area with no sign of any neighborhood or people. We had to tell them time and time again that the point of this venture was to move away from the newly built Beijing--to show what most of China really looks like. After close to an hour, we finally pulled in to the small village of Chang Ping just off of the Badaling Expressway.

It was tough to blend in, and that's an understatement. People would shut their doors as we approached, and kids would scurry away. There were few smiles, and my hellos and kind waves were rarely returned. At times it felt very very awkward--for both sides, I'm sure. People here live in fear of foreigners that they don't know, let alone photographers. We could find no one that would let us into their homes--or who could even understand what we were doing. This isn't the first time I have done this. It's always difficult to blend in, especially in a country with a history of fearing the media--let alone the foreign media--and I patiently let things roll in the hope that something would eventually pan out. In the past I have always been able to succeed in being invited in by others in and around Beijing and Shanghai, in both modern and rural areas with few problems. But I think that the Chinese government has made it plain to everybody out there that they must put on the very best of appearances to the foreign world. People here seem frightened of showing us the "wrong" image, I think.

After more than 20 minutes of walking around without a single picture to show for it, we finally ran into a man on a moped who was wearing a "volunteer" shirt, which seemed odd at the time--but I didn't catch onto the full significance of what he was wearing until later. I thought I was just lucky--but in hindsight someone had clearly called him and he had rushed to our "assistance" on his moped (in my opinion, of course). This was confirmed when a second volunteer showed up wearing an identical shirt minutes later. They were rather quite helpful to be honest, and one invited us to photograph a couple in their home.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

The problem for me was that this scene and situation felt posed and too construed. The man put on his shirt and his wife started to clean up the place--and I had to beg them to leave everything the way it had originally been before I had come into their lives. Luckily, they either understood,or thought that they should comply--I'm not sure which. At this point there was a crowd of 10 people outside of their home, and I felt like I was on an Annie Leibowitz shoot with an entire production crew outside. This did not feel like photojournalism to me anymore.

We went to a few other houses - but it was clear we were only being invited to the "modern" or more presentable homes. I did catch a glimpse of a "real" family, with two babies and a small boy in a very very small room--but it turned out that they could not afford the channel that transmitted the Olympic games. They were "from out of town" I was told. "Just renting." Man--that was a beautiful picture. But I just wasn't allowed to take it.

While we struck out in terms of pictures with yet two other homes, I must say the people were incredibly warm and welcomed us into their lives with very little hesitation--although I'm not sure if it was under pressure from these "volunteers" or out of kindness. Imagine trying to knock on doors in the U.S., asking to be let into a stranger's home with no notice so that you could take photographs of them watching the television. That wouldn't be too easy either to pull off either.

When we came out of our fifth home we found headlights beaming into our faces. Somehow, the translator instantly knew that it was the police. I was unfazed--walked right by them and they didn't seem to be aggressive in any way. We were being led by "volunteers," after all, and nothing felt wrong.

But then a very strange woman appeared. She looked quite out of place. Was dressed differently, and had a blackberry or some kind of smart phone in her hand. She started to ask who we were, who we worked for and what we were doing and making calls once we responded. The vibe coming off of her was very very wrong to me. She was cordial, but just a little too interested in the details of our visit. Truth be told, she felt like a member of the Party to me... distinctly so. As we rounded the block together, a second police car showed up and we were now surrounded by an entourage of close to twenty people.

To be clear: there was ZERO level of aggression coming from them, and I never felt unsafe or unwelcome. It just appeared that it was going to be impossible to pull off any real photojournalism here. I decided to give it just one more go. I entered a grocery store where a couple and an older woman were watching TV and eating dinner, but as I photographed all three were incredibly tense. Motionless. I thanked them, packed up, shook a few hands and got in the cab. It was well worth a try, but I had really not come out of there with a great image in the end.

As we drove out of that town back toward Beijing I saw a little group of guys near a hut with a light beaming out of it. I quickly asked the cab driver to do a U-Turn, so that we could go see if there was a TV inside.

The driver pulled to the side of the road and waited for the car behind him to pass. The strange thing is that it pulled off the the side of the road almost immediately in response. We waited a few seconds, then made the U-Turn. As we turned back, the modern black car behind us with black tinted windows turned off its headlights. As we drove past I couldn't see who was inside but I did catch what distinctly looked like a series of red police lights behind the grill of that mysterious car.

A chill went down my spine, as I've seen many many undercover police cars, mostly in the States. This clearly felt like one of those. We checked out those guys at the hut I had seen and found out that they did not have a TV--and then made a second U-Turn back onto our initial course. As we drove back past the black car--it was still idling on the side of the road--I caught the silhouette of what looked like two men through the black tinted windows, and I remember seeing that while the lights were out, the speedometer on the dash was still lit which I found odd. Generally, when you turn off your headlights, the speedometer light goes off as well. I've been in several undercover cars in the U.S. that have switches to disable both the headlights and brake lights in their cars, so that they can follow someone without being noticed.

I asked Zach to look back through the rear window as we drove away, to see if the car pulled back onto the road--but it did not. I let out a sigh or relief.

So in the end, I don't know if this was indeed the secret police or just a weird coincidence. I guess you never really are supposed to know. If you do end up confirming it, well that's generally a BAD thing. I know that I was a bit nervous on the drive back and debated on whether to have the taxi drop me back off at my hotel or back at the Main Press Center, where I could blend back in and then catch one of the dozen buses back to my hotel. But given that my taxi had picked me up at the hotel initially, that seemed a bit pointless.

I don't think we did anything to warrant getting into too much trouble. But I wouldn't be the least bit surprised that we did show up today--at least as a very small blip--on the Chinese intelligence radar. Maybe it's time to go back and stay in that bubble...we'll see.

A good photographer does not always make a good picture editor...

Vincent Laforet — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 15:51:31 GMT

Is it just me, or is the mascara really creepy? This is one of the member's of Russia's duet synchronized swimming team. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

I woke up to an e-mail today from Simon Barnett (NEWSWEEK's director of photography) telling us that he was quite happy with our collective work so far and letting us know that he thought that perhaps we were being a bit "too hard" on ourselves and the photography we were producing here at these Olympic Games in our blogs.

This of course naturally lead me to ponder things a bit—as I tend to do—and it made me realize that there's a reason that we have Simon and other photo editors out there: a good photographer does not always equal a good photo editor, especially when the photographer is editing his or her own work. When you add to that formula day after day of action-packed Olympic sports and a solid mix of sleep deprivation, it's quite possible that we become our own worst editors. In retrospect, I'm quite happy with what the three of us produced during Michael Phelps's 8th Gold Medal win At the time, however, we collectively felt underwhelmed by the pictures from that day.

So Simon—you're probably (and hopefully) absolutely right.

U.S.A.'s Christina Jones and Andrea Nott compete in the women's synchronized swimming competition. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

France's Apolline Dreyfuss and Lila Meessemann-Bakir compete in the women's synchronized swimming competition.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Another frame of France's Apolline Dreyfuss and Lila Meessemann-Bakir competing in the women's Synchronized swimming competition.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

That being said, I should point out that what has likely gotten Mike Powell, Donald Miralle, and myself to these Olympics is a constant desire to produce the best images out there—images that we've never before seen. It's one thing to try to reproduce some of the best images that we've seen produced by others over time, but trying to create new and original images that we've never seen before can be daunting, as Mike mentioned in a previous post. Searching for that "perfect" image is one thing—and can all too often lead to a far too predictable result—but searching for that elusive image is an entirely different challenge, especially when you consider that we are chasing the unknown—an image that we have never seen before in an event that has yet to produce a definitive result, one that we cannot necessarily predict or anticipate. And that to me is the magic of photography: trying to freeze a moment in time out of the chaos of the unknown in a sport that is lost or won within a matter of milliseconds. After all, would we watch these sporting events if we knew in advance what the results would be? Perhaps some of you would, and I'm sure many of you do, given the twelve-hour difference between Beijing and what is re-broadcast on your local TV in the U.S. for example. I for one will never watch a game if I already know of the outcome. To me the thrill is in the anticipation of the unknown—it always has been.

Athletes compete in the second heat of the men's 400M. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

In the end, I think Donald, Mike and myself do indeed have high standards, and I think it's important for us to try to raise those standards on a continual basis. I also think that you, the readers, and Simon as well—expects this of us. If we find a way to master a certain image, I think all three of us will then look to move on to the next image, as opposed to producing the same one, over and over again no matter how difficult that initial image might be to produce. You see, at first, producing a sharp image that fills the frame can be a challenge for any photographer. The next step will be to shoot it much tighter than you are comfortable with—and then hopefully add the perfect lighting, timing and exposure in the next stage. Once you reach that level on a consistent basis, you then look for the "incredible image;" one that involves not only the grimace of the field hockey player about to be smacked in the face by the stick, for example, but also the ball in the frame—and perhaps a loose tooth suspended in mid-air after impact. (While I think that Donald and I would be happy to have that image made with a 400mm or 800mm with a perfect solid color out of focus background, Mike would most likely want that image shot with a 50mm set to f 1.2, with every element in it perfectly composed and balanced—and the tight shot of the tooth in mid air would somehow find itself on the Jumbotron that was perfectly composed to the rule of thirds on the left side of his frame...) Come to think of it, Donald would want to shoot if from under a water puddle with his waterproof housing and I from 1,500 feet above in a helicopter...

Sure, these are the images we all dream of, and achieving them may be far too unrealistic on a daily basis, but every photographer worth his salt is by nature is a dreamer, one that chases after the perfect image, whether or not it will ever come to exist that day. I think it's important to dream up and anticipate that "perfect" image, no matter how impossible it might seem, so that if it ever happens you're right there and ready to capture it. When the games are over, THEN we'll be able to sit back and look at what we have produced collectively—and hopefully feel a little sense of pride—but for now we've still got a few days to chase that "perfect image." I've never seen anything good come out from resting on one's laurels.

Jonathan Wariner strides past the competition in the seventh heat of the men's 400M. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Phelps's reaction was strong, but the point is that I think the three of us would have loved to see him hoisted on the shoulders of his teammates, or thrown into the pool—something, ANYTHING that was unpredictable and unusual. A simple pump of the fist just doesn't seem fitting for such a momentous and historical occasion. That ultimately was the letdown—not necessarily the work we produced, but the lack of that "defining moment" that was in the end completely out of our control. The reality of course, is that all events are completely out of our control in the end—but we don't treat it that way, because if we do, we're lost. In fact we do our very best, day in and day out to try to anticipate the unknown, to always be one step ahead of the future.

I'll leave you off with a small tidbit of advice, which I'm sure you've all heard of before, but is nevertheless especially important to any photographer these days shooting on large CF cards: never leave all of your eggs in one basket...

As I drove back on the bus today from the Main Press Center today, I was copying a large CF card with half a day's work on it, and the cord from the reader to the computer came loose—corrupting the card. Those Firewire 800 ports and cords are incredibly fast—but they are also come loose far too easily. When that happened I lost half a day's work... and in the past 3 hours I've been unable to recover a single image off of that card... That being said, here's what's left of today's events on the 2 other cards...

U.S.A.'s Wallace Spearmon looks over his shoulder at Saidy Ndure of Norway in this pan of the men's 200M Heat 6. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEK

Almost Sleepwalking after Back to Back Epic Events

Vincent Laforet — Sun, 17 Aug 2008 12:41:32 GMT

Michael Phelps is surrounded by what must be one of the largest swarm of photographers I've ever seen after he jumped into one of the two photo wells to get a hug from his sister and mother. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Now comes the hard part. With the two marquee events past us, the men’s 100M and Phelps’s 8th gold, the newsman in me tells me that the Olympics are pretty much over. But the lensman in me knows better than to give up now. It’s time to start chasing photographs—not necessarily the news. Time to have fun and start to take even bigger risks from now on, especially since everyone has been seeing hundreds of Olympic photographs for more than a week now.

Michael Phelps and his teammates huddle for the last time prior to Phelps's historic 8th Gold Medal in the 4 X100m relay race. I'd really love to hear what they were saying to one another. This was a very long throw - this shot was made with a Canon 1D MKIII and an 800mm 5.6 at 1/640th of a second.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

I’m now sitting here typing away while the men’s gymnastics floor final is going on. There are so many obstructions and the backgrounds are so impossible that it’s just best to sit this one out for a while and wait for the next event in the rotation. I’m mentally exhausted—I got to sleep at around 3:45 a.m. this morning after returning from the men’s 100M final and my wake-up call went off at 5:45 a.m. I jumped out of bed before I had a chance to start that dangerous debate of whether or not I should try to squeeze five or ten more minutes of sleep in. And no breakfast of champions for me or Mike this morning—"breakie," as he says, doesn't open 'til 7. As I was pulling up to the Main Press center at 6:15 a.m., I called Doug Mills of The New York Times, my former colleague there, and asked if he wanted me to save him a spot. Ever the pro, he let out a soft chuckle and let me know that he was already in position and had marked me a spot... there’s never such as things a being too early for an event such as Michael Phelps’s historic 8th gold medal win. (The race didn't start until just past 11 a.m. but there were only a dozen head on positions available for all of the photographers covering the race.)

Michael Phelps in action swimming the butterfly stroke in third position - this shot was made with a Canon 1D MKIII and an 800mm 5.6 at 1/640th of a second. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

The two of us were both lined up almost directly in line with lane 4, where the U.S. team would compete in the 4 X 100M relay. I had an 800mm 5.6 in hand on a 1D MKIII, a 500mm 4 on a remote in front of me to get a looser version of the reaction on a 1Ds MKIII—and a 70~200mm on a remote off to the side. This was going to be a BIG one—or so I thought. A truly historic moment with the potential of making a classic Olympic photograph.

Here is Michael Phelps touching the blocks. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Unfortunately, that photograph never really materialized, despite everyone’s best efforts. We came close, but I'm not sure anyone's got a "classic" shot per se. I walked around the Main Press Center to SI and a few other papers and wires after the race today, and the consensus is that unfortunately there really wasn’t a truly fantastic defining moment. It’s a shame, and every photographer seemed to know this as we departed like mummies from the venue. Ultimately, no matter how hard you prepare, now matter how much energy and effort you put into preparing a photograph, there's never a guarantee it will materialize. Sometimes it’s your fault—you might have chosen the wrong spot, or made some terrific blunder that someday, perhaps, you will learn to laugh off. Other times, like today, the moment itself fizzled. Phelps seemed more relieved than excited—clearly the best pictures from Phelps and these Olympics were taken yesterday, when he won his 7th medal by 1/100th of a second. Mike’s photograph of Phelps splashing the water is a defining moment in my opinion. But today, well there are plenty of “good” or “solid” photographs—but no true keepers. And so we move on from here and continue to wish for other images that we haven’t yet previsualised in the upcoming seven days.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Michael Phelps and his teammates celebrate their team gold and Phelps's historic 8th Gold Medal in the 4 X100m relay race. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

There’s really not all that much to say about today’s race photographically. Everyone seemed to follow the script and the momentous occasion was recorded in history without all that much suspense. It’s still an honor to have been present to photograph such a historic moment—to be able to say that “I was there when...”—but any good photographer would trade a hundred such honors for a single iconic photograph. We’re not here to enjoy ourselves as spectators, after all—we’re here to do our best to make timeless images!

Michael Phelps during the metal ceremony—with tears in his eyes. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

After the race, It took me more than 5 hours to even look at the photographs on my computer—and that speaks volumes. When there’s something fantastic, you can’t even wait to flicker through your images on the back of your camera’s LCD screen. But a big part of our job of course is not just to make beautiful photographs—but also to record history. That said, I hope you enjoy this series of photographs from today’s historic race.

After a good rest tonight, I’ll be ready to go tomorrow. The only negative right now—and I’m not alone in this, it seems—is that my photo vest is starting to have that “not so fresh” smell to it. We of course can’t get it cleaned (because we can’t get a spare one in the meantime) and by the end of this upcoming week, after a few more days in sun, the best thing that can happen to this vest will be for it to mercifully spontaneously combust after the closing ceremonies. There is no way that this things is making the journey back with me to the States.

Here is a tilt shift shot of Dara Torres' start off of the blocks in her 50M silver medal race. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Once I returned from swimming, it was a struggle to keep my eyes open. Donald, Mike, Andrew and I had lunch together, and when we returned to the NEWSWEEK office at the MPC, we were struggling to keep our eyes open. Mike passed out on the couch and I did my best to stay awake until my evening events. I didn't know what to decide on in terms of what I should cover... it's always tough to go back to "normal" events—after the 100M race and Phelps's run—everything has a tendency to look a bit inconsequential in relation to those.

I debated between covering gymnastics or fencing—I've done both already so I kept going back and forth and back and forth in my sleep-deprived state. I finally decided on gymnasics and went to cover Alicia Sacramone's chance at redemption on her individual vault event. Alicia had not done particularly well in the team competition, with at least two falls that were quite costly.

As I get there, the stadium is quite empty. Most of the seats are empty and the buzz that was in the room during the team competitions is missing. Luckily so are most other photographers... the only problem is that the empty stands are making for terrible backgrounds. As Alicia walks out toward the vault, she and the seven other competitors will have two shots at getting a medal. She’s the first to line up, and as is my routine, I focus on her and shoot a few frames to figure out my exact placement, focus and angle during her first practice run.

The only problem is: A score comes up after this “practice run”—of course I realize this was the first of her two vaults. I quickly scramble to another angle and make a quick burst of frames on her second attempt. Boy—that went by ridiculously fast... and apparently, the first time they face the vault is the real thing...

At this point I have a few decent shots, and there’s really no good reason for me to photograph the other competitors. The story here is that this is her last chance to redeem herself—and perhaps win a medal. Since they're only each doing two consecutive vaults, the competition can turn on a dime at anytime. So I decide to take my 200mm 1.8 and focus on her face and wait for a reaction.

Alicia Sacramone reacts as she watches her Bronze medal disappear as she falls in the ranking of the women's individual vault competition.
Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

She’s incredibly tense. And as each competitor goes by, her ranking drops from second place, to bronze and then she ends up going home empty-handed. Her coach gives her a big hug before the two walk off of the field of play together.

Alicia Sacramone was a bit despondent - but she did keep it together long enough to make it out away from the cameras. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Alicia Sacramone is comforted by her coach Mihai Brestyan. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

At this point I can stay a little longer and photograph the dreaded floor competition with the terrible background and endless foreground obstructions. Instead I take a gamble and start to jog towards the fencing hall, which is the next building over, maybe 500 yards away. If I’m lucky perhaps I’ll be able to catch some sleep—uh, sorry, I mean the last minute of the match. Alicia's event started at 6:45 p.m. and fencing started at 7 p.m... perhaps I can make it just in time...

Truth be told, at this point I’m so tired that sleep is the only thing on my mind. I’m having trouble telling if my images are in or out of focus. My eyes are failing me—hey’re no longer focusing and I can’t see anything sharp anymore. Thank God for autofocus at times like these. This isn’t the first time my eyes have “stopped working” or focusing in my career... when you work long hours and/or days sometimes your eyes just throw in the towel and glaze over.

Jogging yet again with all of this gear is the last thing I really want to do. But El Jeffe (Simon Barnett our boss and NEWSWEEK Director of Photography) isn’t paying us to sleep out here. As far as he and I are concerned, we’ll have plenty of time to sleep when we die! Seriously, this is the Olympics and it’s time to kick it into gear for one more series of events. Plus I'm starting to catch my second wind—probably on pure adrenaline.

As I run into the fencing venue, I have no idea if the match is halfway through or seconds from being over. I catch a glimpse of some action on a TV as I dart past the security guard, so at least I know that the competition is still ongoing. I take the elevator up to the 4th floor and as I get within a few feet from accessing the photo positions, I think to myself: “Man, it would make a nice little blog story if I get here just in time for the finish.”

I see one of the French coaches as I walk in—this is the gold medal match, U.S.A. vs. France in sabre. I ask him: “Qui Gagne?” (Who’s winning?)

He curtly answers: “Nous.” (Us.)

I then ask: “A la gauche ou a la droite?” (Are you guys to the left or to the right?)

“A droite” he answers “et on gagne a la prochaine touche.” (We’re to the left... and we win with the next point.”)

Aha—yeah, OK. Talk about timing. No time for small talk or thank yous. Luckily I hadn't packed my gear on my jog over here... no sooner than I have a chance to turn around, I catch the following frames...

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Julien Pillet reacts to winning the gold in the men's team sabre final against the U.S.A. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Sometimes you can cover two concurrent events at once after all... just make sure never to let your editor know that! What an Olympic day this was. Time to get some sleep and prepare for seven more.

More Than a Ten Hour Wait for an Event That Lasts Less Than 10 seconds...

Vincent Laforet — Sat, 16 Aug 2008 15:18:58 GMT

Jamaica's Usain Bolt wins the gold medal in the men's 100-meter final followed by Marc Burns of Trinidad and Walter Dix of the U.S.A. This is from my lower remote on a 1Ds MKIII. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Here is a tilt-shift version of the same finish from above—it was shot with a 45mm tilt-shift lens wide open on a 1Ds MKIII.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Here is the handheld shot I made with the 400mm. Usain was so far ahead that the reaction was far from fantastic—all those remotes for this? I'm very happy to have decided on the wideangles for me remotes—the tight version would have yielded very little—but I could be wrong... will have to see what everyone else has.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

One of the big surprises during the night was Tyson Gay not qualifying for the 100M Final... it changed everything. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Well, we're here—all of us—at the "National Stadium" or Birds Nest, waiting for the start of one of the two big marquee events of the Olympic: The men's 100m final. It's the biggest "hurry up and wait" of them all.

It's shaping up to be a pretty amazing 24 hours—we'll all wrap up late tonight, probably around midnight, catch a few hours of zzz's and head to see if Phelps breaks Spitz's record in the morning. I think it's safe to say that all eyes will be on the 100m meter track final tonight to see the fastest man alive, and then tomorrow to see an epic record being broken (hopefully.)

I'm writing this blog entry well before the men's 100 meter race because we won't have much time to write later tonight... those who know me know that I value my sleep—and I'd like to feel somewhat functional for tomorrow's big race at the aquatics center. So you're likely seeing photographs of the actual race,even though I wrote most of this blog hours earlier... hope that's OK.

Seeing the photographers industriously setting up more than 100 remote cameras all at once is quite comical. Photographers are pre-focusing their cameras, making fine adjustments to get the framing down just PERFECT, and then another photographer will invariably catch his foot one of the of the remote rails by mistake, and two dozen remote cameras will have to be reset. It's absolutely maddening, believe me...that's why I've forgone that ritual today and set up a few wide angle lenses instead. The photographers are actually setting up more than one camera because they're trying to shoot tight action of each individual lane (in effect guaranteeing a shot of the winning athlete). The first phalanx of cameras are framed around lanes 7-9, the second on lanes 4-6 and the 3rd on lanes 1-3. You never really know what lane the winning runner will be in until it's far too late, and the race is over. There is often a remote that covers all lanes—but it's a bit loose. Then there are side remotes, overhead remotes, and an entire second set of remotes that are guessing on where the winning runner will "react" all pre-focused of course—so it's a total shot in the dark. It's quite an amazing process to witness.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

One of the neat setups is saw is the one for David J. Phillip of the Associated Press with his 3 cameras on an OverXposed plate (with a fourth one down a little further). It has a neat little trigger box that sets off multiple cameras from one point (the 3 Canon 1D MKIII Cameras have a wireless adapter on them) with a few hundred feet of ethernet cable running from the camera back to the computer. That's a pretty amazing set up—technology is constantly challenging us to try new things. There's never anything as "fast enough..." You're either first—or beat by another wire agency...

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

All in all it feels relatively quiet today compared to past 100m races, not that I've done that many, but Mike Powell confirms that it's the most peaceful he's ever seen it. One of the theories we have worked out is that everyone knows that the chances of getting blocked by television crews are so high that, "what's the point of us showing up anyway?" Some still photographers here are clearly "broken." You can see it on their faces or hear it in their voices. I've heard several photographers ready to throw in the towel. Luckily I'm having my best Olympics ever in terms of mood and rest—so no worries here! Even better,the track field is partially covered from the hot sun, so we we aren't getting cooked all day—plus, it isn't nearly as hot or humid as Athens was, four years ago.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

This Olympics has been one of the hardest in terms of getting access to positions to make original images. As Mike, Donald and I have mentioned separately in previous blogs, the pool has gotten far too much control—and in my opinion the situation is out of hand. They are dominating the spots and excluding everyone else from them. Just today at the Phelps race, Mike told me he got there three hours in advance to hold the head-on overhead spot on Phelps (Great shot Mike!). Just before one of the races started one of the pool photographers who shall remain nameless had the gall to show up with a "pool position" sticker—and put it in Mike's spot. Mike of course intervened (it's completely against the rules for the pool photographer to do that—only the venue manager is supposed to assign spots) and then the pool guy tried to do it to another photographer to Mike's left. And Mike intervened again. Understand that the pool photographers already have half of those positions reserved for them; they have the best positions on the ground level AND underwater cameras, so these are the crumbs that we peasant photographers are left with, maybe half a dozen head on positions. To me, this just shows you how this has gotten completely out of control.

I do have faith that Nick Didlick, the head of Photo for the Vancouver Winter Olympics (who has been here in Beijing and witnessed this first hand) will curtail these types of actions and set things straight in time for the next Olympics. The pool was invented to guarantee a few spots to the more important wire services, not to monopolize all good shooting spots. And that's what seems to be happening in China to an egregious degree never before seen. I'm sure Nick who is a very fair and reasonable guy will be able to level the playing field in Vancouver. Things like this truly make photographers question why they should even try to come here, and question whether they have a chance at all at remaining competitive. It costs a lot of money to cover an Olympics and if you're being shut out from all of the good positions it's hard to justify covering them. I suspect that this is exactly what the wires/pool want. They don't want the other photographers here, they'd be just as happy if all of the newspapers, magazines and websites paid to use THEIR images. Were this to happen, that would of course homogenize everything and not be good for photography, or the Olympics.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Here's a photograph that a reader requested we do. It shows you the venue and how we are positioned to cover it: Mike is in "M" on the bottom left—in the main moat head on for the finish line photograph. Donald is in "D" overhead—that's his back you see in this frame. And I'm in "V" on the bottom right—looking for a reaction picture. Photo by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

On a less serious note, I'll leave you with a little tidbit from last night. Communication is obviously one of the biggest hurdles for Westerners in China... yet you would think that at the Foreign Expert Building, which is the hotel where we're staying that it wouldn't be such a problem. Well, not exactly. Ordering room service, or a cab for that matter, can be quite the challenge at our hotel. Last night we tried to order french fries and the person on the other end of the phone thought we wanted fried rice... after five minutes of back and forth and a lot of meticulously slow enunciation, they gave up on us and sent up someone up to take the order in person. I ended up Googling up a photo of french fries for the room service guy when he came to our room, and upon seeing the picture, he yelled out "Oh! Chips!" That's apparently what they're called here. A few days ago we tried to ask for salt and pepper. Apparently that, and mayonnaise (you know—the white ketchup?) has proven just as difficult to obtain (but if you think about it, when is the last time you had to season a Chinese dish?). Which brings another tip to mind: If you're in a hurry to "go" make sure to ask people where the washroom is—not bathroom—that too took a few minutes to figure out the other day. There's just no polite body motion or hand signal to make someone understand that you really have to go... speaking of which—tune in tomorrow following Phelp's race.

World Records Seen From Above

Vincent Laforet — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 15:22:11 GMT

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

I shot most everything from overhead today, either with the use of remote cameras or by physically shooting from the catwalks. Here is Andrei Rybakou of Belarus winning the silver medal and breaking the world record with an 185 Kg snatch in the men's 85kg weightlifting competition. This was shot with an overhead remote camera--more on that later...

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

I also photographed U.S.A.'s Natalie Coughlin winning the bronze in the women's 100-meter freestyle. I really like this frame as she's still under the water (which was obviously not still) and the resulting image almost looks painterly. I photographed Natalie when she was just 15 years old at the Santa Clara swimming competition years and years ago--I still remember that day clearly. She was such a sweetheart and I made a portfolio image (that is still in my portfolio today) of her that day after a coach told me she would be the "next big thing..."

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Here is another remote camera photograph. I went very early to the swimming venue this morning to make sure I could get on the catwalk--and also to mount a side remote. The idea is that I would trigger it from above (while shooting with a 400mm lens) and have this camera mounted to the right with a 200mm lens on a high resolution body. Here you can see U.S.A.'s Ryan Lochte pushing off to win the gold medal in the men's 200-meter backstroke with teammate Aaron Peirsol just above him. The arch in these guys bodies never ceases to amaze me. This is a standard remote angle--but one that always yields good results. Speaking of which ...

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Here is Lochte pumping his fist from that same remote. You can see the dejection in all of the other swimmers' faces quite clearly, especially in Peirsol's. It must be a very bittersweet experience to see your teammate win.

Here's a little background on how these images were made. The following photograph is of my friend Harry How of Getty Images who shot side by side with me. I would have liked to have shown you a variety of shots, including a wide angle view of what it feels like to be up there, but we're only allowed to bring up one lens and one camera body--no exceptions!

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Going up on a catwalk to photograph the swimmers from above is a true privilege (almost as nice as watching all of those neat television angles with the overhead cam and underwater cameras--man, I wish we had the budget to do stuff like that with still cameras), but getting up took a lot of work. First we had to get approved by the overall photo manager that oversees all Olympic photographers and each venue. Putting up a remote camera overhead (or shooting from there) is a huge liability, and the process and paperwork is intense--but well worth the extra effort. Of course, even though I had gotten the proper authorization from both the venue manager, and the chief venue manager 24 hours in advance, they still didn't have my name on the list at 7 a.m. this morning. Luckily I know the venue manager at the Aquatics center Peter Charles from past Olympics including Athens and Torino (he's actually an "adviser" and technically the assistant venue manager but we all know he's the man in charge) and he worked things out.

Once you are approved, you gear up an hour before the race and have to follow the following rules: one camera, one lens, one card. Nothing else.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

But getting a photograph of Phelps from above is priceless--so it's all worth the hassle. Here he is winning gold in the 200 meter individual medley. This was shot with a 400mm 2.8 handheld--oh yeah, hand holding a 12 pound lens ain't easy. Luckily it was strapped to me--and I to the catwalk with oodles of safety cables. We weren't allowed to being extra CF Cards or even a paper start list, which is pretty extreme if you ask me. We were patted down before we went up by the photo escorts, and we all tried to get things in--even our credentials were left behind. While extreme, I agree with one of the photo escorts who said that if even one sheet of paper floated harmlessly down from the catwalk. it would be game over for everyone--no more catwalk access. So we just had to grin and bear the restrictions. I would have liked to have had another card in my pocket, a wideangle--maybe a zoom--but that wasn't in the cards.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Here's a tighter version of Phelps on his second swim of the day, this time shot w/ 1.4X converter on the 400mm 2.8. Hey, it was mounted on the camera, so technically there weren't any loose items, right? And yes, someone did sneak in a start list with the names of all the swimmers and what lanes they would be in--otherwise we would have been totally lost up there! It was a total blast to shoot from the catwalk, btw--you can see how the swimmers' bodies move through the water, and I found it to be completely mesmerizing to watch the swimmers kicking their legs under water in such violent yet beautifully rhythmic patterns. You can really appreciate the race from up there, and it's one of the few spots from which you can truly tell who's in the lead.

Oh and another cool thing is that I got to touch the bubble ceiling of the water cube--very cool, kind of like an inflatable rubber medicine ball.

My next stop was the weightlifting championships for the 75KG women and the 85KG men. That too involved remotes, as you can see from the first picture in this post. I used a few remotes at that venue.

While putting up a remote can lead to incredible images, it also has its disadvantages It turns your 8-12 hour day into a 20 hour day--you have to put the remotes up at 6-7 a.m., leave them in position all day, and wait until the last event in the venue is completed--often after 11 p.m. It's a huge time commitment and truly limits your mobility and ability to change your plans mid-day. You also are constantly thinking of when to fire the camera and when not to. You can fire your remote every time you fire your floor camera with radio remotes called Pocket Wizards (all of the ones I brought here are on custom frequencies that I had done prior to the Olympics--this ensures that no other photographer will accidentally trigger your remote.) Then you also have to worry about battery life, and, most important, not running out of space on your cards. I use the 22 Megapixel Canon 1Ds MKIII and it's a hog when it comes to files--each actuation (click) takes up 24 Megabytes--and that adds up really quickly. Luckily Lexar gave out some 4GB SD Cards to each photographer at the Olympics--and I also got my hands on a spankin' new 16GB 300x card--the first of its kind in the market--giving me a whopping 20 Gigabytes in one camera. Now there's a game changer!

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

So I was able to shoot head on with a 400mm 2.8 knowing I had it covered with an overhead remote as well. Here's Lei Cao, of China,winning the gold in the women's 75kg weightlifting competition and setting a new Olympic record.

Allow me to walk you through the setup I had at that venue. I was shooting with a 400mm 2.8 (and 300mm 2.8) on a monopod--this is the shot I got when Andrei Rybakou, of Belarus, won the silver medal and broke the world record with an 185 Kg snatch in the men's 85kg competition.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

I also mounted a 70~200mm 2.8 on a Canon 1Ds MarkIII body right in front of me. Every time I triggered my main camera (on the monopod) the radio transmitter atop the hotshoe of my camera sent out a trigger signal to this looser camera.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

This allowed me to shoot tight handheld and trigger the high resolution body in front of me. If the weightlifter had jumped up instead of falling to his knees, I would have had a backup loose frame--the resolution of the 1Ds is so high that you can easily crop a vertical out of this frame without any hesitation.

And each time I fired off my main camera, the same radio signal also fired the overhead remote. Here is the frame you saw at the start of this blog--but this time full frame...

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

As you can see it was a very graphic frame--and it allowed for the lifter falling to his knees and also backwards--or anything else unexpected--as long as he looks up at some point, you've got a frame.

And here's yet another frame from the same remote during the medal ceremonies:

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

So you see--photographers CAN be Houdinis of sorts, being at more than one place at a time. As I mentioned, remotes are incredibly time-consuming. And they have a terrible tendency not to fire at all on big moments. Metal sucks in radio signals, and most stadiums are full of metal... especially catwalks. Batteries die, remote cords fail, signals don't reach and cameras get bumped by others, slip just one millimeter to the left or down, of the focus is slightly off--if any of these things happen, you've got ZIP to show for all of that work. Three of us had remotes up there tonight, and I can tell you that we all exhaled when we went up there and saw that there were actual images recorded on those cameras. It's incredibly stressful even for veterans; you never know if it works until you see the images (and in the film days confirmation would take a MUCH longer time.) These days photographers are running AC power and hundreds of feet of ethernet cable to the remotes and dragging the images down from below via WIFI transmitters connected to the camera via a laptop below. Technology never ceases to amaze me--Mark Terrill of the AP was one of the first to do the WIFI thing years ago at the Lakers game--I'll never forget hearing about that. The photographers who have underwater cameras at the swimming venue are sitting there with their laptops during the race watching images stream in from the underwater cams seconds after they were shot (ethernet or USB cables with repeaters are below the surface...)

Here's a quick shot from outside of the Wrestling Venue at sunset..

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

I'll leave you off with the following anecdote from today titled: How One Minute at the Olympics Can Cost You 40 Minutes....

At the end of the wrestling match I had to wait for the medal ceremony to finish before I could pull down the remote camera from above. And I only had 15 minutes before the next bus left. Once I got back down from up there (and let out a big sigh because all the effort had yielded a picture or two) I had what I call a classic and true Olympic photographer's moment: I had to pack 2 remote kits--one 300mm and another 400mm lens with 4 camera bodies and all of the remote cables, magic arms, safety cable, remote cables--while simultaneously copying 3 cards of RAW files into my laptop--within the next 5 minutes if I had a prayer of making the next bus. I was already sweating profusely from going up and down from the catwalk (you have to climb a 20 foot ladder with all of the gear) and I had a deadline of 9:30 p.m to catch the bus.

Somehow I managed to pack everything in time to make the 9:30 bus with one minute to spare--and I was dripping sweat. I had beads of sweat coming down my nostrils, and other from my brow falling onto my glasses. But of course, as it turns out, the buses were leaving every 20 minutes--not every 30 minutes--so the one I was on would leave at 9:40 p.m. Now I'm praying we'll make it to the main press center in time to catch the 10 p.m. bus to the hotel--if not, I'll have to wait for the 10:30 p.m. bus... and the guide on the bus informs us that the ride will be approximately 25 minutes. OY VEY--this is going to be tight...

Luckily we don't hit traffic, but right as we pull up to the main press center I can see that all of the 10 p.m. buses are pulling away. We're 30 seconds late, and that's an eternity in a country that strives to run like clockwork. As I type this, our (now 10:30 p.m.) bus driver is perched out of one of the side windows with half of his body leaning up and out of the bus, buffing the exterior with a rag. He's making sure that his shoes don't touch the seats. It's an amazing sight-- this guy must have been a former gymnast. Well I gotta go--if you're reading this now, I guess that I made it. Tomorrow is a huge day. There's a chance Phelps could lose his record-tying race (to Spitz's metal record) tomorrow--SURE HOPE NOT! And of course if the big daddy of Athletics--the Men's 100M final - late tomorrow night. Time to get some rest!

Things Are Starting to Click—and I'm Not Talking Only About Cameras This Time

Vincent Laforet — Thu, 14 Aug 2008 13:53:17 GMT

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Well. Yesterday's post turned out to be quite cathartic—it helped flush whatever was holding me back out. I felt calm and collected all day, and the photos just seems to keep coming my way. It's amazing how big of a role your state of mind plays in how you shoot. In this case, I simply went to the venues with one goal: make one or two images from each—nothing more. And magically, positions that I had not been looking for prior to this change in mindset opened up right in front of me. This is far from the first time this type of mental shift has happened, but I appreciate it every time it does. My stress level goes down 500% and the quality of the photography tends to go up as a result. I had a total blast today. The shot above is of U.S.A.'s Alexander Artemev. It was the first photograph I made of the day and got me off to a really good start. It was made full frame with a 300mm 2.8 and pre-focused.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

I then turned my camera to the right to photograph Yang Wei of China. He was favored to win and seemed to have it in the bag every time I shot him. This image was made with a 200mm 2, wide open and again full frame. It was just a lot of fun to be able to stay in one place, to have beautifully clean backgrounds on both shots and be able to use two prime lenses. This is a photographer's dream.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Here is Yang Wei again on this final event. Amazing form and grace. He made it look too easy, and you never saw him sweat.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

France's Benoit Caranobe was a big surprise. Apparently, no one was more surprised than he was to receive the Bronze medal—he burst into tears when he found out, although I never got to see that—I was busy with Yang Wei.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Here is Yang pulling off a nearly flawless routine.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Here is Yang's teammate, Yibing Chen—he did not medal, but his form in this frame is just spectacular.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Jonathan Horton of the U.S. had one of the best performances of his career, but that only took him to ninth place. He said that he's already getting prepared for 2012, looking to put more difficult moves in his program to become more competitive.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

As cool and collected as Yang Wei appeared, I did catch him exhaling as he high-fived his coach after making a perfect landing to take the Gold.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Here he is celebrating at the conclusion of the Men's individual competition.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

I then left the venue and found it was pouring down rain outside. Needless to say I was blessed to be shooting indoors all day. Mike apparently was not so lucky—when I called he said he couldn't be more soaked had he jumped into the water himself at the slalom venue. Apparently the event was being delayed because of too many close lightning strikes.... yikes.

My next stop was Wrestling and that too was a lot of fun to shoot. I decided to shoot from above, to clean up the backgrounds and take advantage of the colorful mats.

Aslanbek Khushtov, from Russia, won the gold medal with this move by flipping Mirko Englich, from Germany, (who won the silver) during the sixth session of the 96kg weight class, men's Greco-Roman wrestling competition.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

This is a sort of classic image that every photographer at the Olympics is always on the lookout for—the defeat vs jubilation shot. Asset Mambetov, from Kazakhstan, reacts to winning the Bronze medal against Marek Svec of the Czech Republic.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

This one made me chuckle a little—I very much identified with Zoltan Fodor, from Hungary as he tried to escape Andrea Minguzzi of Italy. Minguzzi won the gold medal and Fodor the silver during the sixth session of the 84kg weight class, men's Greco-Roman wrestling competition.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Needless to say, his effort was in vain. Seconds later Minguzzi won the gold with this move.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

My countryman Melonin Noumonvi of France didn't fare any better as Ara Abrahamian of Sweden defeated him to win the bronze in the 84kg weight class.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

It must really hurt to get so close to winning a medal... all of those years of practice and nearly almost there.

That's it for today. I'm getting up a 6 a.m. tomorrow to show up very early to two venues—I'm looking to do some overhead shots of Michael Phelps at the swimming venue and of Weightlifting as well. I have officially been approved by the main photo manager to mount overhead remotes so from here on out—look out from above!

A Third of the Way Through: Time for a Little Introspection

Vincent Laforet — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 12:48:52 GMT

United States Women's Gymnastics team member Nastia Liukin (412) consoles teammate Alicia Sacramone (415) who fell twice in the competition at the conclusion of the Women's Team Gymnastics Final where the narrowly missed the Gold Medal - coming in with Silver. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

We’re about a third of the way through the Olympic Games as of the end of today - and I’ve always found this to be a good point to look back through the images I’ve made so far, and to make adjustments on how I will shoot from here on out.

This of course has put me in a very introspective mood. Truth be told I’m not thrilled with any of the images I’ve taken so far, and as a result my head has been in the clouds for most of the day. I’m trying to figure out how I can change my approach from this point on, in an effort to produce images that I will be proud of, and that hopefully this blog's readers will appreciate throughout the rest of the games.

Trying to figure out what to do next has led me to asking one of the most basic questions that most sports photographers ask themselves on a regular basis: How exactly do you define a great sports photograph?

I can tell you that in the 17 years that I’ve shot news and sports in this business, the answer to that question has changed radically many times, often in relation to the type of organization I was working for and what they expected of me. I’d like to go into that for a little bit. Some of you may not have time, so please just go ahead and enjoy the photographs from today. For the others, please read on.

United States Women's Gymnastics team members Shawn Johnson (411) performed a near flawless routine on the balance beam helping her team win the Silver Medal in the Women's Team Gymnastics Final. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

First, one of the biggest factors that I should mention is how much of an impact technology has had on sports photography in the past decade. Autofocus has had more of an impact than perhaps any other specialty in the photography profession. When I started to shoot sports in 1993, I fell into it rather haphazardly, because I had a knack for manually focusing a 300mm or 400mm lens. I was a French kid who didn't know what a first down was, but was able to get more sharp images than not. At the time, if you got more than 60% of your shots in focus, you were the exception to the rule--and you could count only a few dozen photographers in the country, who could get higher percentages then that on a regular basis. An amateur who picked up one of these lenses would often get less than 5-15% of their images in focus--if any at all. It was definitely an acquired skill. These day having 80%-90% of shots--if not close to 95% for the best sports photographers--is not uncommon. The technology has become that good, and therefore the playing field has been leveled, making it more difficult than perhaps ever for the top photographers to stand out.

United States Women's Gymnastics team member Alicia Sacramone lost her balance just as she mounted the balance beam in the Women's Team Gymnastics Final. Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Therefore simply “getting” the shot (in focus and well framed) is no longer an accomplishment--you need to push yourself more than ever to find unique images that no one else is making. You can no longer stand out simply because you shoot with longer lenses (the longer they are, the exponentially harder they are to focus and the more likely it is you’ll crop an important element out because you have shot the image too tightly) or by having better timing than the next photographer. Doing things the old way simply won’t do.

Which brings me back to my simple question: What makes a great sports photograph? As I’ve found out, a lot of the answer to that depends on your audience, or almost just as importantly, who you’re working for. Different types of organizations consider different types of images to be the “pinnacle” of sports photographs. And very often your client and/or editor is the ultimate judge of how good of a job you’ve done. If they’re happy, you're happy and hopefully they'll hire you again and you can make a living in this very odd profession. That is a big factor of how we come to judge our success as photographers--it’s often more important than what contest one might win or what your peers think of your photography.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

The first "impact damage" a.k.a. my "first victim" of these Olympics. We carry too much gear because once we're in position there's no running back to get the missing piece... and when I ran from one place to another, one camera body knocked into my 135mm f2 - "That'll leave a mark" I remember thinking, with no time to actually check the lens out. When I got to the next position I saw the front filter was completely cracked... that's why you have filters, I guess. The lens is still in pristine condition. (We don't use lens hoods as a courtesy to other photographers, as it can block their photographs) ©Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

When I worked at my first job at Agence France-Presse, I was given very specific guidelines as to what they (and most wire services still do) look for: shoot tight action photographs--of the play of the game or the athlete of the game--and almost more import than how good your photograph is how fast you can get it on the wire (all too often the first image on the wire--not necessarily the best one--is the one that gets published, and getting published is the ultimate goal.) If you get an amazing action photograph of a player who is not relevant to the story, don’t even both sending it in--it will never get onto the wire.

A few years later, I found myself at my next job, at a photo agency named Allsport (now Getty Images) and the rules couldn’t have been more different: they were not always looking for the play of the game. In fact, very often, they couldn’t care less about those moments. What they were looking for were the quintessential agency sports photograph: an image that was shot full frame (anything that involved more than a 10% crop and the slide would be thrown into the bin) a perfectly clean background, perfect timing, color and light. The quote I'll never forget from those days is "It's not quite there mate" as the slide sailed into the trash bin. (The definition of full frame is an image that literally fills the frame in your viewfinder--there is no need to crop into the image.)

Xiao Mei Liu of China scores a goal as she is defended by #6 Bombo Madalena Calandula of Angola in the handball preliminaries.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

This was a radically different approach to sports photography than what I had been trained in by Agence France-Presse. In some ways you took a clinical approach to sports photography - you learned to look at the sport with an incredibly keen eye. You’d study just exactly how each athlete would move so that you could shoot them full frame with a very tight lens and not cut off any relevant parts of their anatomy. You’d learn every move in a gymnast’s routine, trying to find the perfect moment where you could frame just the gymnast’s head with the Olympic logo on the balance beam below--again full frame (cropping was not an option.) You would know exactly what direction Michael Phelps turns his head to breathe in during freestyle, or how far from the finish line he pops his head out from beneath the surface in the butterfly. You would go one or two days in advance to study a venue and to see how the light moved throughout it as the time of day changed and plan out your shooting schedule based on that movement. It was a very different approach to sports photography. If you had a shot of Tiger Woods jumping in the air as he won the Masters and there was someone wearing a distracting orange shirt in the background--the image would never have a chance. Again it would end up in the bin. The Allsport photographers were the “experts” at making the “perfect” sports image if you will.

My next career move brought me to The New York Times--and there once again, I had a rude awakening during my first few months of shooting sports for them. I’d describe their style as somewhere in between Allsport and Agence France-Presse, with a heavy bias toward getting the “moment.” This isn’t that surprising given that the Times is often referred to as “the paper of record.” I would come back from baseball with images that were shot full frame and perfectly lit--a photograph of an outfielder perfectly outstretched missing a catch, say. And often the editors would say: oh, that play wasn’t really a deciding factor, we don’t need it, but did you get the image of Derek Jeter hitting the game-winning home run? My response would be: who in the world would want to see another photograph of yet another guy swinging a bat? Those photographs are a dime a dozen... and people surely the readers get tired of seeing them every day! Don’t they?

But to the Times, their job was to report on the news, not just show pretty pictures. Your job there was clearly delineated: get the play of the game, a nice shot of the most valuable player--and if you can come back with these moments captured with a good amount of aesthetics, more often than not you were considered a star photographer. What your backgrounds looked like, how tightly you shot the image (and how much of a crop you later applied to the original) was completely irrelevant. If it was shot full frame and the background was more out of focus as a result, that was a nice bonus. You learned to shoot defensively--you learned to play the odds. You’d push the envelope, but only so far. If you decided to shoot with a 600mm instead of a much looser 300mm and cut off the player’s limb as a result, tough luck--the paper would without hesitation run a wire photo instead. But you also became an expert at playing those odds, and became very strong in making sure you were at the right place at the right time and to find angles that would maximize your ability to capture a variety of outcomes. So getting the perfect image was not as important as getting the moment of the game. Some photographers at the Times were able to do both on a regular basis however--Doug Mills and Chang Lee come to mind--both are covering the games together for the paper here in Beijing. The fact that they’re able to do both is a testament to their skill as sports photographers. It’s a very very tough thing to do day in an day out. Especially when you are keenly aware that The New York Times--and all newspapers and magazines out there--subscribe to all of the major wire services. If you didn’t get the moment, your entire day was shot, as they would never hesitate to use a wire service photograph instead.

When I left the Times more than two years ago I started to shoot significantly fewer sports and started to shoot more commercial work and other types of assignments. This gave me a chance to take a step back from sports photography and to gain some form of perspective given that I wasn’t busy churning out sports photos on a daily basis. What I’ve found during that time is that sports photographs have become incredibly homogeneous, in large part to the technology that I mentioned above and given how easily disseminated they are through the Internet. Every photographer can see what other photographers have shot just minutes ago on Yahoo! News--and try to either copy that image or work on making it better. As a result, a lot of the photography starts to look the same. It’s no longer just a handful of photographers making different images. Don't forget that before digital and the Internet, film had to be processed and published. By the time you saw the image published, it was the next day and the event was over.

It’s very rare for me to see a sports image that stops me in my tracks these days. A lot of this of course has to do with the fact that I’m slightly jaded. I’ve been surrounded by some of the best sports photographers throughout my career and witnessed them produce some of the most awe-inspiring photography in person, and I’ve seen how they accomplished those photographs and learned from them. Naturally, my definition of what makes a great sports photograph will be much different then that of the average person. That’s true of any professional in any field, of course: The standards become much higher the more you perfect your craft, and the more you are exposed to great work. You also become biased because you are aware of how difficult it is to pull of certain images, and this in turn means that you tend to look down a bit on the great photographs that might not be so difficult to pull off technically. That’s a very dangerous path to fall into.

To be honest, there is very little photography that I see out there today that I find very impressive. Even in the nation’s top sports magazines and by the sports photographers, I can count the photographers that I am regularly impressed by on one or two hands: Donald Miralle being one of them (Donald is one of the three photographers photographing these Olympics for Newsweek and also contributing to this series of blogs.) These few photographers routinely come back with images than none of the other photographers do--images that no one else even sees.

Bing Li is defended by #6 Bombo Madalena Calandula of Angola in the handball preliminaries.
Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Mike Powell (also one of the three of us shooting and blogging for NEWSWEEK) and I are doing a lot more commercial work these days and have distanced ourselves a bit from shooting in the “standard” sports style that is very prevalent today in editorial photography. “Tight is Right” is one way to describe that standard--and that’s what Mike was referring to when he said he had returned to his “long lens repertoire” in a previous post. Our clients are looking for images that have a bit more of a setting or sense of place and as a result we are often looking for images with much more atmosphere or shot from a different angle. Last year I shot an entire series of sports image with tilt-shift lenses (you can see them on my site)--trying to find a different approach to sports photography. One of the big frustrations for me (and I’m guessing for Mike as well) is that there is so much clutter at the Olympics--so many television cameras, security guards, and empty seats in the backgrounds of your photographs--so making these more atmospheric can prove to be very difficult.

Here I am now photographing for the NEWSWEK blog, and it’s kind of the wild west out
here. There are no rules, and Simon Barnett (the NEWSWEEK director of photography, a.k.a. El Jeffe) has given us complete freedom as to what type of images we shoot. Some might be of the defining moment of the Olympics, or the gold medal winner--but images of the last place finisher or some team you’ve never heard of are also welcome, as long as the image stands on its own merits. It’s a new place for me--frankly, it’s a dream job. Basically just go out there and make pictures without the fear of your editor calling you at the end of the day asking you for “this play” or “that athlete” because that’s the news of the day or the lead of the article they’re working on. And in many ways such freedom can be a little crippling.

Which is of course quite ironic. Another factor of course is writing for the blog: with each day it gets tougher and tougher to come up with new things to write about. After all, not every sport is humorous, not every day brings forth new interesting anecdotes. Often you deal with the same logistics issues and headaches day after day. Some days you have amazing images--and on others you’d just as soon not publish anything.

In these past two days of photographing gymnastics, for example, I’ve been swaying back and forth between trying to make the perfect (beautiful) gymnastics photograph, versus getting the shot of the fall that may have cost the U.S. the gold medal. I’ve never had the liberty in my 17-year-career to decide purely for myself just what it is that I want shoot (with the exception of personal work.) As for the blog, we edit the image that we make out here ourselves--no one is looking over our shoulders. It’s an incredible level of freedom that few photographers have. We have no editors to answer to, or stories to shoot for. As long as we keep the readers (you) interested, we’re accomplishing our jobs (I think.) The Internet is opening up news avenues and taking us to new territories, and we are now shooting for a new audience with more freedom than ever.

Xiao Mei Liu of China scores a goal as she is defended by #6 Bombo Madalena Calandula of Angola in the handball preliminaries.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Yet having such freedom leads you to ask yourself, what it is that you consider to be the ultimate photograph--is it the news of the day? Is it the slow start off of the blocks that cost the relay team the gold? Or the most beautiful photograph of the day that may be completely irrelevant in grand scheme of sports history? (Ultimately, of course, getting all of the above in one frame is the goal--but that happens once an Olympics if you're lucky.) Are you shooting for yourself or to inform the reader? Is there a difference between the two--and what does the reader (as opposed to your publication or editor) want to see?

Finding that answer has proven much more difficult for me to answer than I ever would have thought... especially given this new role as a blogging photographer. But that’s what I’ll be attempting to do over the remaining two-thirds of these games. In case you haven’t figured it out by now, the reason that I haven’t been thrilled with any of the photographs that I’ve made so far is that I’ve found that I somehow returned to these old ways of shooting. It’s almost as if through I have been hardwired or programmed to do so over the years and it’s proven much tougher to shake off than I had anticipated. All of the endless rules and craziness that is involved in photographing a chaotic event such as the Olympics has thrown me right back into these old habits. Today marks the day that I come to terms with that, and hopefully let go and move on to making what I consider great photographs--if I’m lucky. So much of this ultimately involves a lot of luck.

As always, your comments and feedback are more than welcome--you after all are the ultimate audience that we’re working our butts off for. So let us know what you think. Or, you can just follow along as I try to work through these questions via photographs over the next 11 days.

Living in Fear of the "Pool" Guy

Vincent Laforet — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 14:45:59 GMT

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Sometime you just have to wait, sit and pray that the "pool guy" won't come steal your spot. No, I'm not talking about anything that has to do with swimming pools. I'm talking about the word most photographers fear and sometimes loathe at the Olympics: The Pool Photographer.

Pool photographers work all of the venues, not just the aquatic ones, and generally are members of the numerous wire services that cover the Olympic Games. Since these wire photographers service numerous clients, they have successfully argued that they should get prime positions reserved for them at all venues--and they often (of course) pick the very best spots in each and every venue. I have no problem with this (I've never liked it of course given that I've never been part of said pool) and it does make some sense to give these organizations preferential treatment given the number of clients they serve.

The problem is, over the years the pool has gotten more powerful, and in Beijing, some of the rights that they've been given are just ludicrous. For example, if you want to shoot from the underwater window from which the image above was made, you need to make a request 24 hours in advance in writing. Once approved, you are escorted down to that position an hour before the event and get set up. Yet if at any point a pool photographer decides to show up, they have the right to bump you out of the position without warning. And given the small size of these windows, you're basically left with nothing to shoot. So you can see why every time I'd hear the door open to this position, my heart would momentarily stop...

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

At one point a pool photographer did show up. Luckily he was a friend and decided not to pull rank--he graciously decided to let the peasant photographer (me) be, and went to the other window on the opposite side of the pool. It helps that I once worked with him as a stringer for the same wire agency. Getting through the Olympics is all about who you know and the friends you make over the years, but pool positions are becoming more and more prevalent each year, and access to great shooting positions is dramatically diminishing.

As far as these photographs are concerned, they were made from one of the four windows that coaches use to observe their swimmers. It's really cool to be down there, but you feel completely isolated from the rest of the world, and have zero warning as to where or when a diver will break through the surface. Have no idea where to focus your wide open 135mm lens (set to the aperture f2.) Eventually you learn to follow the bubble trails coming from below as reference marks if you will, and that helps you decide where to pre-focus. There is not time for auto focus of course; the action is simply too fast.

All you can hear are the muffled sounds from above. Miraculously I had a cell signal down there and called someone shooting the action from above. I'd get a count down as to when the next pair of divers would leap off from the 10 meter board and do my best to time the rest. The picture above was of Annett Gamm and Nora Subschinski of Germany, who just missed their chance at a bronze metal and took 4th place in the 10 M Synchronized diving competition.

Speaking of bronze, the big surprise of the day of course was the U.S. Men's Gymnastics Team coming in third behind China and Japan, something that few of us expected would happen.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Alexander Artemev, of the United States, completed a near flawless pommel horse routine to eke out the win. The quote of the day for me came from Smiley Pool, a great friend and photographer (and Gymnastics specialist) for the Houston Chronicle, as Alexander walked up to perform the final routine of the competition for the U.S.

"This is the field goal for the win" he said. This instantly clarified to all of us non-gymnastic-experts what exactly what was going on... if he nailed this routine, the U.S. would win Bronze. Any mistake and the medal would instantly vanish. Given that Alexander has a tendency to fall off of the pommel horse due to the higher than average complexity of his routines, we were are looking for the decisive moment... needless to say, he nailed it.

But he wasn't alone, Xiaopeng Li and most of his teammates from China nailed their routines.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

Here is a shot of the U.S. seconds after they found out they had earned the Bronze.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

This happened seconds after Kai Zou of China sealed the deal for China on the horizontal bar.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

It was great to see the U.S. Team with their medals - they seemed as surprised as we were.

Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK

While seeing the U.S. team win bronze was an unexpected treat, it was also very special to witness the Chinese Gymnastic Olympic team perform in the sport that is so strongly tied to China's national identity. We've all seen so many photographs of young Chinese boys and girls training at a young age in the hopes of someday ending up on this very stage. To see them win today was to witness 6 young men realize a dream of a lifetime--and of a nation.