Beyond the Frame 26/
Storytelling: The Opening Frame and why it’s such an essential ingredient for a photo essay.
Where are we and what’s happening?
What time of day is it?
What season is it?
Who’s present?
What’s the prevailing atmosphere?
Is it tranquil, bustling, isolated, crowded?
These are some of the questions that an Opening or Establishing photograph might seek to provide answers to.
The Storytelling Framework
The Storytelling Framework consists of a series of suggested perspectives that we might want to include when making a photo essay. I’ve found it very useful to have a list of composition ideas in mind, prompting me to step back, take a breath, change lenses and adjust perspective.
We looked at the Signature Image in Beyond the Frame 10/.
From my own experience I know that the Opening or Establishing image can be the one that’s most often overlooked. Yet the moment I sit down to edit my images, a scene-setting picture is the first thing I’ll look for. If I’ve neglected to make an introductory image, the editing process quickly comes to a grinding halt.
Whether it’s for a magazine article, a blog post, a commercial assignment, a photo album (is that still a thing that people make?) or perhaps just an Instagram Reel (whatever that is), an image that sets the scene can be incredibly valuable.
These days, the importance of a contextual, opening image is something I’m very conscious of. A trait that editors appreciate.
Locations
The most obvious opening image for an essay about a location is a wide-angle view. Indeed, it’s hard for me to think of an alternative. If we’re working on an article about the Italian town of Positano, for example, failing to show the precipitous town beside the sea would have an editor raising an eyebrow. Never a good sign.
For a series of location guides, the opening images really had to show the place without much ambiguity.
New York? Empire State Building.
Budapest? Parliament beside the Danube.
There are times when one might include something a bit more creative, a little less predictable.
Bangkok? A Buddhist monk (not the Grand Palace?)
Prague? Old Town Square (not the Charles Bridge?)
The latter two still give a sense of place, I think. Of course, I still provided my editor with the more obvious alternatives but Opening Images can sometimes speak more gently.
People
When people are an integral part of a photo essay, it makes sense to begin by showing them in the context of their environment.
From stories about a tea plantation in Darjeeling, Fishermen on the Amalfi Coast, and a Buddhist monastery in Thailand, we want to show the place where we find these people, before we dive into the details and close-ups.
Occasionally, whilst framing a potential Opening Image, a photogenic extra might wander into the scene.
Sometimes a more subtle Opening Image can be appropriate. For a magazine feature with an abstract theme, such as “Colour”, and less about a specific story, we can still give a sense of place and indicate the tone of the piece without needing to be too explicit.
It doesn’t really matter what we might be photographing, a wedding, a birthday party, a family picnic, a journey, a day in the life of… Remembering to take a step back to make a few images that show where we are and what’s happening will rarely be a waste of effort.
Country Doctor
Country Doctor, a 1948 photo essay by W. Eugene Smith for Life Magazine, is often cited as one of the earliest examples of a comprehensive photo essay.
More than 75 years later, it still provides a fascinating insight into the daily life, the trials and tribulations, of a doctor working in a rural community.
The picture above of Dr. Ceriani walking towards a house call, is the essay’s Opening Image. A country setting, smartly-dressed man, on foot, doctor’s bag in hand… From that image alone, we have a sense of what to expect.
Examples of each of the parts of what I call the Storytelling Framework can be found inside the Country Doctor essay. Portraits, Details, Interactions & Exchanges, Movement, Sequences, Signature, Closing.
The complete essay can be see on Life’s website It’s still a great example of how a fascinating story can be told with images alone.
Sam Abell
Sam Abell’s photography provides a deep well of inspiration, especially when it comes to thoughtful, considered compositions.
Prohibited from moving from his designated position, far from the action, Sam Abell still found a way to communicate the unusual nature of the Japanese Emperor’s Garden Party with a carefully-composed scene-setting picture.
“I turned to see what was possible. Immaculate new turf rolled from my feet to a pond thickly planted with Japanese iris and bordered by azaleas, all framed by a forest. A soft rain fell. Space, the rarest thing in Tokyo, presented itself. I went to work. Waiting.”
“To me the setting is often the first subject of a photograph. In this case the strolling signatories complete the composition.”
Speaking about photographing an Indian rodeo in Montana, Abell echoes an experience I have had many times. The action can be so immediate, so engaging, that it monopolises our attention and we risk neglecting that wider, contextual scene.
“My head and photography were spinning from the unpredictable energy of the events. Late in the day I realised the rodeo was taking my photographs, not the other way around. Before it was too late I settled myself on a layered composition of sharp horizontal bands with an interior frame and let the action come to me.”
Opening Sequences in Film
I’ve written a lengthy essay about opening sequences in films and was going to include it here but suspect it might be too much for one newsletter. Plus, I got sidetracked and also wrote about impressively long, unedited tracking shots… My editor says it’s “too meandering”. Personally, I’m OK with a meander but I may be in the minority.
However, I can’t leave this edition without sharing two absolute gems that I’m sure you will appreciate.
There’s much that still photographers can learn from the work of cinematographers — and vice versa. I have a long list of suggestions that I’d love to share but, you know, the meandering thing…
Flowers of Shanghai
Directed by Hou Hsiao-Hsien with cinematography by Pin Bing Lee, the opening sequence of the 1998 film Flowers of Shanghai is exquisite.
It’s an eight-minute, unedited, one-shot delight.
There’s so much to see in a sequence where the camera barely moves. I prefer to watch it without subtitles for added mystery. Who are these people? What are they playing? What does the woman with the red handkerchief say? What do the two women whisper to each other?
I really like the moment when some people stand and leave the room. We instinctively expect an edit at that point, cutting to the room they walk into. But the camera lingers, we remain at the table where the intriguing games and conversations continue.
The British Film Institute described Hou’s camerawork as “evincing an exquisite melancholy of peerless delicacy”. And that, my friends, is an epithet worth aspiring to.
Soy Cuba (I Am Cuba)
Directed by Mikhail Kalatozov with cinematography by Sergei Urusevsky.
Described as “propaganda as cinephile fever-dream”, I Am Cuba is a cinematic tour-de-force. There are many sequences worthy of a recommendation. But this excerpt (not an opening sequence but, you know, meander with me) is mind-boggling. The one-shot begins at street level, rises to a lofty balcony overlooking a funeral procession, and just when you think, “it must stop now” (when the flag is unfurled), the camera soars into the air.
The sequence has been described as possessing “unparalleled beauty and wonder”. I defy anybody to disagree.
Competition
Don’t forget, there’s a chance to win a copy of Mark Power’s book, The Shipping Forecast (from Tuesday’s newsletter). Leave a comment and I will include your name in the draw. Don’t be shy. A 👍🏻 😁 or a 😬 will suffice.
That’s all for now. I’m going to meander towards our kitchen, from where intriguing sounds and spicy aromas have been emanating for some time. I predict a dish of peerless delicacy awaits. 😋
Beyond the Frame 25/
What is over 160 years old, never more than 380 words, changes four times a day and is so deeply ingrained in British culture that a proposal to move it by 12 minutes prompted “thousands of letters of outrage, angry newspaper editorials and debates in the British Parliament”
Thanks! More thought provoking words. I’m planning an Asian rail adventure in a couple of months. Focusing on creating a cohesive collection is now my priority.
Tell your editor we like meandering!