A still image has the power to tell an entire story, capturing a moment in time. Celebrating the connection between photography and the moving image, we hear from a group of DPs about their passion for photography and the impact it has on their cinematography. Each filmmaker also shares one of their shots, the story behind it and what they used to capture it.
ULA PONTIKOS BSC
Please share details about the image you have selected: The image I chose (above) – which is called The Lady Spirit of Cempaxochitl – I took on All Saints’ Eve. My friend from Mexico was undergoing a mezcal ritual with a local shaman from San Agustín Etla, Oaxaca, and we went with her family to gather marigolds for the Day of the Dead ceremony the next day. It was a meaningful time for me—my father had just been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Being there, being present, taking photographs—it helped me find a way through what was coming. I learned that when life gets hard, the camera becomes a way to stay connected. The shot was taken with a Sony A7SV and Cooke SP3 25mm lens (lent to me by Carey Duffy).
What is your background in photography and how did this passion for stills begin? I first learned to develop and print photographs with my father in a small bathroom in our communist flat in Poland. He encouraged me to pursue it as more than a hobby. I chose this photograph because it reminded me of those beginnings—of learning to see the world through a lens with him.
How does photography impact your work as a cinematographer? When I’m preparing for a project in a new place, I often start by photographing—it’s how I settle into a creative mindset and get to know the light and space around me.
ROB HARDY ASC BSC
About the image: This is a photograph of the actress Cailee Spaeny on the set of Civil War in Atlanta, Georgia. We were halfway through a gruelling shoot day filming a sequence in which a suicide bomber brandishing an American Flag blows herself up in a crowded street. It was incredibly tense, harrowing and exhausting to shoot. We had hundreds of extras, pyrotechnics, fake blood, severed limbs, lots of smoke and chaos. In between takes I was standing at the peripheries of the set. Cailee was stood with me. As we silently watched the big reset for the next piece with all the carnage around us, I noticed Cailee looking back in my direction. We just looked at each other silently. Cailee had this expression, and I could see beyond her everything that was going on. In that split second it all felt so real. Without thinking I just lifted my stills camera and took the picture. Then Cailee lifted her camera and took the companion image to this photograph (which I have never seen).
I took this photograph with a Sony A7S Mark III and a 35mm T3.5 Leitz 1953 Summicron fixed rangefinder lens.
This image captures a feeling that I would otherwise struggle to put into words. It presents itself as a whole. It’s all-encompassing in the sense that it describes everything about that moment, about the weight of what we were doing, and what was to come. As if we were teetering on the edge of a precipice of our own making and we had no choice but to go forward into the unknown. Yet it also has this veneer, as if its time and place cannot be pinpointed, as if it exists inexorably in some alternate reality.
I’ve never considered myself a photographer of people. I’m a very cautious and shy stills photographer. I’m much more comfortable looking for unsettling elements in a familiar landscape. I prefer the sense of something ‘off’ in what might appear to be otherwise ordinary. Something that can be guided by the all-important composition. Landscapes and architecture where the human element is presented as less significant and engulfed by the surroundings. This image is the opposite of that idea which is why it is so striking to me. It does something I wouldn’t usually be able to achieve. There is a singular truth to this image.
ADAM SUSCHITZKY BSC
About the image: This image was taken on Hampstead Heath on my Leica Monochrome with a 50mm Summilux. There are several reasons why I chose this image. It was one of those rare moments in time and space, where all the visual elements came together; the mist, the location, the exact arrangement of the dogs, the people, the action within the scene. Capturing a photograph that can be appreciated without words, expressing emotion, story, mood, these are the things I aim for time and again. Of course this alignment of the stars doesn’t happen very often, which makes documentary photography not only extremely challenging, but also fascinating. This is why I have long admired the great documentary photographers so much.
Background in photography: I grew up in a creative family where taking black-and-white photographs each day was as normal as brushing your teeth. There was always a camera around in my early years with my father, Peter Suschitzky, documenting the lives of my sisters and me with great skill. He would process and print his photographs himself, lifting me up to sit on a stool in the dark room so I could see what magic he was performing before my very eyes. Without even realising it I was gaining an appreciation for the power of an image some years before I took a single frame with a camera myself.
Visiting my father on the films he was making in my childhood gave me such a thrill. I remember from the youngest age the tingle down my spine of excitement seeing the extraordinary images he was creating. He would always pick me up so I could look through the viewfinder of the Panaflex, and there inside this magic box an image of extraordinary beauty and wonder would be etched onto my mind forever.
Meanwhile, my grandfather, Wolfgang Suschitzky, had been a brilliant documentary photographer and cinematographer. I discovered his photographs in my early teens, his quiet, poetic observations inspired me to this very day. Wolf had a rare skill that very few others had; the ability to capture the moment but with the eye of a cinematographer. That is to say that his images are not only profound documents of his time, but they are produced with the skill of a filmmaker who innately understood lighting, composition and narrative. His images often can be seen as fragments of a film though of course they are not constructed at all. Perhaps there should be a new term of ‘photo-cinematographer’ for these remarkable people gifted with the talent to do both to such a high level.
I was lucky enough to receive my first camera when I was eight years old and have been taking mostly black-and-white photographs almost daily ever since. For me it is a way of life to see the world though a lens, to look for images around every corner of every day. This is endlessly fascinating and entertaining to me – no matter how plain the environment may be, I know there’s always an image waiting to be found.
How does photography impact your work as a cinematographer? Is there a connection between still photography and cinematography? For me the answer isn’t so simple. Naturally there are close bonds between the two, but then there are stark differences. Yes, they both have some technical similarities, but crucially in stills there can only be one defining moment, as Cartier-Bresson famously said. In cinematography it is the flow of one image cutting with the next and the next that makes or breaks the visual language of the film. In film there is music to enhance the visuals where photographs have to stand on their own in complete silence. For me the two mediums converge when lighting, framing and emotion touch the viewer in ways no dialogue can ever achieve.
I am inspired to shoot stills as much as I am to make films and dramas because both skills feed into one another. I hope that my photography improves my eye on set, while my cinematography equally informs my stills. It is a wonderful dialogue between the two formats that I hope to carry on talking away between each other for many more years to come.
RACHEL CLARK BSC
About the image: This is a picture of my grandma Dot in her kitchen in Jarrow, NE England. She’s sitting in a dining chair, back to the wall. She always sat here to smokecigarettes. I took countless pictures of her in this exact spot over the years. I probably was around 19 or 20 when I took this picture. It would have been shot on my trusty Pentax K1000 with a 50mm lens, likely developed at the local SupaSnaps and shot on Kodak film.
I used to visit The Side Gallery in Newcastle religiously when I lived at home. I was always drawn to both documentary photo essays and portraiture. I loved peeking into people’s lives, getting a snapshot into a world I might not normally access, travelling through photographs. I loved staring at people’s faces, suspended in time, wondering what their story was or what they might be thinking. I hoped to take these kind of photographs. I was far too shy to ever dream of approaching a stranger and asking if I could photograph them. My grandma became my long suffering muse. Whenever I visited her I was always armed with a camera, much to her annoyance.
I chose to share this image because my grandma was my first subject, the first person I truly investigated with a lens. It always felt important and special in some way and I cherish the photographs I have of her.
I still predominantly take photographs on film and I still have this camera/lens. Just looking at this photo again has inspired me to load a roll of film in it today.
Background in photography: I started taking photographs when I was about 14 or 15. I’d always taken snaps before and enjoyed hiding behind the camera in most social occasions. My godfather, who unbeknownst to me was a keen amateur photographer, heard about my newfound interest in photography and on my 16th birthday he gifted me some of his old dark room equipment. It was enough to get myself going and he advised what else I might need to set myself up.
I took over the shed at the end of the garden and from then on that’s where I could be found. In the dark and cold, battling to keep my chemicals warm enough and learning how to process and print my own photographs. It felt like magic. To be able to go out and shoot photographs during the day and come home at night and process them. It put a spell on me and I dont think that feeling has ever gone away. I find having a camera in my hand comforting, normal, like I’m home.
I went on to study photography at college and art school.
How does photography impact your work as a cinematographer? For me taking stills is a very personal experience. It’s only for me and no one else. I often don’t even share many of the photographs I take to be honest. It allows me to explore through my own lens. It’s a way to interact with the world, to try understand it. I like the silence of it. The thoughtfulness and introspection. You can experiment with composition, colour, ideas.
I notoriously take forever to finish a roll of film, nursing it over long periods, often forgetting frames I’ve shot at the beginning of it by the time I’m nearing the end. It’s almost theopposite of what we do on set, we’re shooting all the time, constantly rolling, often not even cutting, rushing to complete scenes or scheduled days. I like my personal experience with photography to be slow and purposeful. Only taking the photograph if I want to, not because I have to.
I love watching the world go by, noticing quirky little things around me. Linking things together in my head or seeing how things interact with one another. Recording moments of colour or light that I like. I think this skill of thoughtfulness and observation is vital for a cinematographer. It’s what we all do all day on set, when we watch a rehearsal or walk into a location for the first time. I’ve always relished this experience, the dialogue between myself and what’s in front of the camera, the possibilities, the problem solving, knowing where to place yourself and the camera.
Taking photographs from a young age has definitely informed how I view the world and how I interact with my environment. I don’t think you can ever switch that off. I don’t even notice I’m doing it most of the time. I feel like I’m always observing and making mental notes of things in my head, logging things, comparing or contrasting, clicking with my eyelids to take a mental image if I’m not armed with a camera in an exact moment. All this unconscious and silent observation is surely training for those busy days on set when you need to make decisions quickly, call on your instincts. All the years of watching, looking, thinking, suddenly you know what to do and can trust what you are drawn to.
I also think it’s good to have a creative output outside of cinematography that is just yours. Be it music, painting, writing, taking photographs, cooking, or whatever that may be to you. It’s fulfilling and nourishing, it takes care of you in the downtime and the in-between, it can revive your passion or keep it burning.
POLLY MORGAN ASC BSC
About the image: The shot is taken down the road from my house after our recent move. It was one of our first sunsets and represents the feelings of freedom and joy in starting a new adventure. I chose this because it represents an image I keep returning to and I feel is how to convey an atmosphere. It was taken on my new iPhone 17. I take way more photos with my phone than my other cameras so I updated my very old iPhone recently and am very impressed with the camera.
Background in photography: I always loved to take a photograph and have played with different systems and styles. I have always used it as a method of expression and I feel it is constantly evolving. I don’t remember how old I was when I was first given a camera but it’s always been a constant.
How does photography impact your work as a cinematographer? Cinematography helps foster a great love of lighting, colour and the patterns in life and nature. It opens the door to noticing what many people simply do not see.
Photography was and is always available to us to record these moments in a way that photographing a moving image was not (although now with phones we can shoot video).
We can experiment with photography and use it as a reference and communication tool. I find it an essential part of my creative outlet and tool in my work.
BRUNO DELBONNEL ASC AFC
About the image: This picture was taken on a boat in Iceland. It’s part of a series about people standing still and looking at something, no matter what they are looking at. It’sabout this moment where everything stops. Quite the opposite of movie making. I took the photograph using a digital Hasselblad with a 50mm lens.
Background in photography: While I don’t have a real background in photography, I always had a stills camera.
How does photography impact your work as a cinematographer? Although I enjoy still photography, I don’t think it has a real impact on my work as cinematography is different from photography. Other art forms such as music, sculpture and architecture are probably more important for my work as a cinematographer. Many amazing cinematographers are also more influential on my work than still photographers.
