“When looking at different photographers who have all these different ways of doing it, you can see how they exist in the world. You get a little sense of who they are and how they’re thinking. What’s going on in this person’s head? I want to know more.” Emily Kask, photojournalist
The Art of Photojournalism
By Madison Marone
Outside of Trinity Church on Easter: Boston, Massachusetts
Introduction
The mission of the Griffin Museum of Photography is to encourage a broader understanding and appreciation of the visual, emotional, and social impact of photographic art. As an Exhibitions Assistant for the museum, I’ve been inspired to interpret Arthur Griffin’s photography with a contemporary eye. My intention is to highlight and provide context for his work so viewers may experience it in new and exciting ways.
Illuminating the Archive of Arthur Griffin: Photographs 1935-1955, views the region’s cultural heritage, traditions, and aesthetic through the lens of Griffin’s lesser-known work. The six-part exhibition explores how photography affects the way we relate to and understand the past. Each exhibit features historical, sociological, and creative interpretations of photographs from the museum’s collection. This installment focuses on the relevance of his time as a photojournalist.
Valentine’s Day Blizzard of 1940, Beacon Hill snow removal: Boston, Massachusetts
Arthur Griffin’s legacy lives on through the Griffin Museum of Photography. He is remembered as a successful photographer for the Boston Globe and a New England photojournalist for Life and Time magazines. Griffin was a pioneer in the use of color film, providing the first color photos to appear in the Saturday Evening Post. His work captures the essence and vibrancy of mid-20th century New England.
The adage, “a picture is worth a thousand words,” encapsulates the basis of photojournalism: the art of telling a story through photographs. Griffin spent many years as a photojournalist covering human interest stories, politics, celebrities, and sports. These photographs were printed in newspapers and magazines distributed locally and across the nation.
The following images are separated into sections covering three major themes present in Griffin’s work: capturing emotion, composing energetic shots, and establishing a sense of place. The exhibit features insights from Emily Kask, a contemporary New Orleans-based photojournalist whose work is featured in papers such as the New York Times and Washington Post. She shares her thoughts on documenting sensitive moments, the creative process, and growing as a photographer. Each section begins with an interview excerpt to gain insight into the perspective of a photojournalist.
Capturing Emotion
Madison: How do you capture emotion in your shots? What do you do to make people feel comfortable?
Emily: In terms of working past those awkward and sensitive moments, it’s really about intention and being honest with people about why you want to be there. Spending and committing that time… Photography can be so socially therapeutic. You get to push past these expectations and norms. I can be sent to rural Mississippi to someone’s house that I don’t know and three hours later we’re crying in their living room together. That’s so weird and I love that. It’s socially challenging and not what we feel like we’re supposed to do as human beings… I want to be able to cry with people. I want to be connected with people from all walks of life.
House demolitionist Abe Boudreau: Enfield, Massachusetts
Photojournalism helps build a connection between the reader and the subject of a story. Images depicting the lives and feelings of others animate news reports, making them compelling and emotionally palpable. Capturing the warmth, excitement, sorrow, or intensity of a moment in a photograph creates empathy and understanding among people. Seeing the humanity of others in this way allows us to transcend time and space. Photojournalism adds vibrancy to current events, historical moments, and the experience of strangers.
Griffin had the ability to capture this vibrancy. His affection for the people and communities he worked with comes across in the following photographs. A lighthouse keeper is seen diligently cleaning the beacon, engaged in his unique line of work. Children gather for a photo that captures the joy and simplicity of youth. A candid and curious moment at the Museum of Natural History is preserved. Actress Gertrude Lawrence beams in her Cape Cod garden. And a Nantucket man smiles benevolently towards the camera. These emotional images help connect readers from all walks of life with the larger stories being told.
Boston Light lighthouse keeper: Boston, Massachusetts
Playing in the South End: Boston, Massachusetts
Natural History Museum 1942: (Berkeley Street) Boston, Massachusetts
Actress Gertrude Lawrence at her summer home: East Dennis, Massachusetts
Jim Coffman hosted clam bakes on Nantucket for over 30 years: Siasconset, Massachusetts
Composing Energetic Shots
Madison: How do you energize your photos?
Emily: Back when I was first starting out, Melissa Little said something at a conference like “photograph adjectives, not verbs.” That always stuck with me. It helps put my brain in a new spot. ‘How does this feel’ rather than ‘what is this.’ I can photograph someone walking or singing or riding a horse, but how are they doing it? How is it being done? That’s what is going to resonate rather than just being a fact. Of course, journalism has to be factual, but in order to make it visually compelling, there has to be this level of humanity, this whole other element that is going to draw you in and engage you.
Children cleaning after the Hurricane of 1938, inspiring hope: Sommerville, Massachusetts
Photojournalism can relay the energy of a story through the composition of a shot. Excitement is evoked by dramatic lighting, unique camera angles, and catching an important moment. These techniques help convey the movement and thrill of a scene. Photographs show how something feels in addition to what actually happened. They frame the story in a way that words can’t express.
While working as a sports photojournalist, Griffin often attended baseball games, track meets, and boxing matches. He photographed the atmosphere of crowds as they cheered on their favorite teams. Memorable moments, such as hitting a home run, are forever preserved in his work. These images allow people to feel the energy of the game rather than just read about it.
The following images tell energetically different stories. Spirited cheerleaders are photographed from a sideways angle, emphasizing their excitement. Track star, John Baricom, is seen moments before winning a race, his face filled with determination. A boxer in a spotlit ring recovers between rounds. Baseball fans are viewed from a low angle with the sky as their backdrop. A skier is backlit by the sun, creating an angelic glow as she descends the mountain. Photojournalists have the ability to dramatize and document these kinds of fleeting moments. Their artistic choices enhance our understanding of the scene.
High school cheerleaders rouse the crowd during a game: Winchester, Massachusetts
The moment before Dartmouth track star John Baricom breaks his own record and wins the race: Hanover, New Hampshire
Golden Gloves boxing match between rounds: Lowell, Massachusetts
Baseball fans absorbed in the game at Fenway Park: Boston, Massachusetts
Gracefully skiing down Cannon Mountain: Franconia, New Hampshire
Establishing Sense of Place
Madison: How have you grown as a photographer?
Emily: I have become a better photographer with the more personal life experiences I’ve had. That’s what’s so key about doing this kind of work, you can find an 18-year-old who makes beautiful photographs, but when it comes to documentary work, you’re not going to be able to achieve the same level of empathy with someone who hasn’t had those life experiences. There’s a tenderness to it you get from getting older.
General Store after the Hurricane of 1938: Wareham, Massachusetts
Creating a “sense of place” is an essential element of story building. In photojournalism, this involves taking photos of the settings in which the news unfolds. Establishing shots help to set the mood, capturing the aura of a scene. This gives viewers a framework to better understand the context of a story. They are especially effective if the viewer has never been to the location or shared the same experiences.
Griffin lived in Massachusetts, but he was often on assignment across New England. The following photographs establish scenes in a variety of news stories he covered. The first features the silhouette of a lone man walking through Copley Square after a snowstorm. The second is a birds-eye view of a celebratory parade held for Bette Davis’ visit to New Hampshire. The third takes the perspective of onlookers during a fire in the Berkshires. And the final two show the Hurricane of 1938’s devastating aftermath. These establishing shots capture the essence of the larger story being told.
Copley Square after the snowstorm: Boston, Massachusetts
Parade for Bette Davis: Littleton, New Hampshire
Fire in the Berkshires: Massachusetts
Hurricane of 1938 aftermath: Wareham, Massachusetts
Swift’s Beach “where four cottages were” before floating away during the Hurricane of 1938: Wareham, Massachusetts
Final Thoughts
“Photographing and spending time with someone starts to break things down to that human-level… We get used to our lives every day. But your life is important, both the way you exist in the world and the larger issue. I think everyone needs to be reminded of that sometimes.” Emily Kask
Painting lobster buoys: Port Clyde, Maine
Photojournalism is an art form that adds a visual element to news stories. It fosters a connection between individuals and communities across the nation. Images that capture emotions, convey energy, and establish a sense of place have the ability to bring current and historical events to life. Griffin’s work allows us to look back on these stories with fresh eyes, illuminating the past one photograph at a time.
Thank you to Emily Kask for taking the time to share insights on the art of photojournalism. Her work and contact info can be found on her website.
Special thanks to the Boston Public Library for digitizing a large portion of the Arthur Griffin Archive so it may be accessible to the public. If you would like to view more photos and library material, visit the Boston Public Library for the Digital Commonwealth and the Digital Public Library of America.
Madison Marone is an Exhibition Assistant at the Griffin Museum of Photography and a graduate student pursuing her MSc in museum studies at the University of Glasgow. She holds a BA in film studies and sociology from the University of Vermont. Her interests include early to mid-20th-century art history, film theory, and exhibit design.
References:
Kask, Emily. Personal Interview. 22 February 2021.
Kenny, Herbert A., et al. New England in Focus: Through the Eyes of the Boston Globe. A. Griffin, 1995.
All images on this webpage © copyright 2021 by the Griffin Museum of Photography. All rights reserved. No part of this webpage may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the museum except in the case of brief quotations from the written material with citation.




My favorite escape is to the desert, where I can see endless sky, red rock and feel alive. Monument Valley is part of my soul. When I have red dirt everywhere on me and my belongings, I know I am home. I also love to explore, and Japan and India are always on the top of my list.










The idea for my book came from several years ago when I was pondering ways to visualize questions about the believability of photographs and their presentation of the “truth”. It occurred to me to create my own sets with tiny actors and light them and photograph them depicting scenes that might have happened or could happen and that were narratively suggestive, but not singular stories- the scenes could be interpreted in multiple ways, though they almost always suggested that something “bad” had happened or was going to happen. I additionally shot my own large background photographs from real world views and blended my fake world and real world parts together visually through lighting. So, the work presents real still life objects in a false scenario against reproduced backgrounds of actual landscapes, lit in a studio, digitally recorded and presented as archivally printed transparencies in led backlit frames- multilayers of real and unreal, or true and false. When I created enough of the pieces for a series, I of course, thought of presenting them together as a book- the book form of course, makes it easier to show the work rather than hauling around light boxes, but there is something certainly missing when looking at the images on a page versus lit up on a wall. So, I included a view of several pieces lit up and installed on a wall as the first image in the book.
To answer the question about what I would want viewers to think about, I will take a few bits from my book’s introduction– The Constructed Scenarios series was created to involve viewers in the act of photographic analysis. The work walks a path between staged setup and photographically real representation. They are intentionally created to engage viewers into their invented narratives- the tableaus are specific enough to be familiar, but not so realistic as to be convincing illusions. These images are both story and still life, photographic reality and theatrical performance, small scale illusion and real world mimic. They present semi-factual information requiring analysis of their elements and an engaged interpretive skill- abilities that are sincerely needed to consider the truth in our vast image and information environments.
What would you like us as viewers to take away from your after seeing your work and words?
…I am very much influenced by various ‘ painting movements.’ ( Surrealism.
The images have not been manipulated. Everything is as seen through the viewfinder.
After seeing my book, I would like readers to feel compassionate and connected – to others on the autism spectrum and to one another. We all have some of the traits of autism, and it is through these commonalities (and hopefully through my work as well) that we can connect. I want people to have a more nuanced view of autism – not solely as a disability but as a gift as well.
These Years Gone By… is a love story told through my grandparents letters from World War II. Shortly after my grandmother’s death in 2008, my mother discovered about 300 letters that my grandparents had written to each other during World War II. They had been kept by my grandmother for over 60 years and inherited by my mother. These letters provided a new insight for my family into the lives of my grandparents during this critical time in world history. From these letters, artifacts and old family photos, I have woven together a narrative that tells the story of this challenging time in their personal history.
This project is more of a curatorial effort through family history with artifacts and old family photos. While this project is narrative driven and embraces my interest in family and world history my other work is slightly different.
My photography has always focused on images of the stuff of daily life ordinarily passed by or kept at the periphery. This approach was named ‘something and nothing’ by Charlotte Cotton in 2009 in her book ‘the photograph as contemporary art.’ These images interrogate the intimate cycles of identity, self-preservation and mortality.
Mike Callaghan’s work focuses on fragmentation, rearrangement and reinterpretation while considering the intimate cycles of identity, preservation and mortality. Mike interrogates the subtlety of gesture and the subtlety of difference in a moment when frameworks of relationships are at once prominently visible and exhaustively hidden.
My father was a superb fine art photographer. In 1999, he and I published a book together about his life’s work. The book, Reflections, consisted of 100 of his photographs and six interviews that I did with him about his aesthetic and his process. Writing the book together was an intimate and extraordinary experience. I learned so much about the life of an artist.
When my Dad died and the sun went out. I felt the night sky open to infinity, icily reaching away from me in emptiness. For two years, nothing could console me for his loss. But then I took up my camera again. Without any conscious purpose, I began to photograph at night. At first, my photos were mostly black, sometimes with a tiny dot of the moon in the far distance. But, in time, more points of light crept in. Increasingly, I became more interested in finding light than in recording darkness. The dark of night became a space with the potential for illumination, for complexity, for life and liveliness, even for warmth.
What was the inspiration for the book project?
Artist Statement As a child I spent many hours roaming the maze of rooms in my father’s furniture store. The shapes that filled these make-believe spaces, 1960’s reproductions of ‘Early American’ furniture became imprinted in my consciousness. Without realizing it I committed these shapes to memory.
I first started using X-rays as a tool to visually explore objects in 2010 when I took a box full of my daughters’ dolls to work. The X-rays were ghost-like and haunting, and I liked them. I could literally see beneath the surface (as the photography cliché goes). The source of X-rays is a linear accelerator– the same machine that is used to treat cancer patients. But treating dolls with cancer killing rays was not the end goal, of course. I continued making X-rays with other objects from diverse sources such as nature (birds, seed pods, skulls), flea markets (vacuum tubes and light meters), and musical instruments.. Five years ago, I started X-raying cameras Actually, I X-ray anything that seems interesting to me and fits on a few pieces of film or the digital imager. I have a small collection of thirty cameras that I started X-raying in 2015. I made a few prints and showed them to my photography friends. Many of them let me borrow their cameras to X-ray. After three years I had made x-rays of 130 cameras. The idea of the book came from a portfolio review of the camera X-rays by Jennifer Yoffy in Atlanta. It was published in December 2018 by Fraction Editions and 500 copies were printed.
This work uses x-rays to explore the micro-evolution of cameras and is a metaphor about the limits of evolution. While form and media may have changed, the camera is still a camera: a tool to create images by capturing photons of light. Today’s sophisticated digital cameras look and operate far differently than the first cameras of the nineteenth century, however the essentials have not changed. The photographer points a contraption with a lens towards the subject to encode its likeness on a storage medium, be it film or digital sensor. And this contraption has been manufactured in many wonderful and clever designs, the complexity usually hidden inside. While making these x-rays, I have been surprised and astonished by what I found inside the cameras. The lens, when imaged from the side, contain a multi-element train of perfectly shaped glass forms whose purpose is to collect and direct light towards the target.
The idea was formed when I started a series called Treasures: 44 objects, about all the things I’ve known for my whole life that live at my mothers house. The end product was a 6 x 8 x 3.5 inch wood box which included all 44 objects on 5 x 7 inch cards, Edition of 3. I decided to start putting all my fine art in book form for my family or anyone to easily enjoy. Treasures: objects I’ve known all my life, was perfect to start with, as I felt like it was already a book, and all the images were ready to go.
Treasures is a short story if you read the back of each card. Each card tells a bit about the life of the object. The images might trigger your emotions about objects you may have grown up with, so I want you to feel a connection to an object and have your own memory.
Treasures is a humorous look at the objects people live with, that we build our lives around, that we give breath to, and how they eventually become part of our lives – and tell our stories.
Artist Statement: Caught In The Looking Glass is a handmade artist’s book that celebrates random reflections that appear on a shiny surface. Twelve color images illustrate that, indeed, another world can exist within the frame of a mirror. This lay-flat book contains twelve images that were captured in or around a chateau in the South of France. Inside covers are lined with mirrored paper; the book is enclosed by a soft, paper slip case.
Artist Statement: As a diehard New Yorker, I have often admired the flowers one may find in her neighborhood bodega. Bodegas are unique and ubiquitous to the various neighborhoods in New York City; of course, pending gentrification. Their locations span from the Bronx to the Lower Eastside and Queens, Staten Island and Brooklyn. They are reliable 24 hour stores where one can purchase a beverage, lottery tickets, smokes or a sandwich. Many are also places where you could buy a colorful bouquet of flowers in a pinch. Wrapped in cellophane, these bouquets are specifically identified as ‘Bodega Flowers’. Some may view these flowers as ‘cheap or less than’ but that’s simply not the case. Roses come in every color, Daisies are pretty, and fluorescent Pom Poms are for the taking. Bodega Flowers are for everyone and they are truly beautiful!
The idea for this project came when I found out that the new art teacher in my son’s grade school was teaching the class to color within the lines. I knew that if I confronted her in an argument that she had a bad idea, I would loose the argument. So I choose to undermine her teaching by having my son create photograms in our bedroom – bathroom. I began that series in 1984 with each of my kids taking turns posing and then we developed the photograms in the bathroom. I came back to photograms fifteen years later, in 1999 with professional models. A second time I came back to the photograms with professional models around 2015. This when I came up with the idea of creating a book with these three sets of images.
Flora and Fauna evolved from my 2016 solo exhibition of found photographic compositions of dead birds, fish, insects, industrial debris and hospital waste found in the Gowanus Canal. I moved the project into my studio to have more control over staged lighting and composition of Post-Mortem Portraits.I wanted the viewer to embrace a heightened celebration of death as the force that makes life most mysterious and compelling by staging dead creatures and natural beauty through a fairly indirect and palatable metaphor. The series is inspired by Surrealism, 17th Century Dutch and Flemish painting and Victorian Post-Mortem Photography.
People of the Scorched Earth is a collection of fictional photographic landscapes created in response to the recent manifestations of and climate change including extreme fires, floods and monster storms around the world. It’s a series about grief and horror presented in a seductive, fantastical storybook landscapes scenes from the future and the past. My intention was to induce a state of psychological conflict somewhere between destructive impulses and denial, rationalizations and magical thinking and power of healing and resilience in the natural world.
What is your next project? –
I live in a small town, at least spatially, in Greater Boston. The town is five and a half square miles with 42,000 residents and an abundance of tiny, often unseen critters lurking in its yards—yards measured in square feet, not acres. With a couple of chairs and a few flowers, a small suburban oasis was created on the patio. But those wasps…and these tiny spiders that seem to jump into thin air? What else is living around me?
My main inspiration for this book project came from seeing the incredible jungle-covered ruins of Angkor Wat in Cambodia. Being surrounded by these ancient structures of a lost kingdom that have been completely reclaimed by the natural environment was a very powerful experience. After researching literature such as
I wanted to take this concept and visualize it in a contemporary sense because we are facing many of the same problems as these ancient civilizations, but on a much larger scale.
The idea for Imperfect came from a series of images I had stored away and labeled “failed photographs”. They were images I thought had something wrong with each, yet I still was very drawn to the feeling of them so I decided to make the series into a book.
I am mainly focused on an extensive book project of my series Exist that I started in 2011, which I hope to be published as a larger run hard cover book eventually. I am also in the midst of releasing a group photography zine with my publishing partner, Grace Tyson at Goldenrod Editions (a small publishing company we started last year), where we have included almost 70 artists. We also plan to release more of our own work as small run artist books down the line!
Living here in coastal Maine we get some pretty amazing fog. And being outdoors in the fog is so much fun, because your mind starts playing tricks on you. We can always “see” something hidden in the fog, whether it is there or not. Not all the images in the book are from Maine, photographing in fog has long been a personal favorite.
Well I was going to be taking several bookmaking classes this spring and summer, I hope that at least some of them are able to happen. I wanted to put together a small book on the Olson House (the house made famous by Andrew Wyeth’s painting Christina’s World). While access to the house had been fairly open and easy for a long time, it is now no longer possible to photograph inside and you now need to be on a museum tour to get into the house. I am hoping to be able to create Photo Gravures of my images and make them into a book.
The day I moved to a desert as a teenager, someone welcoming me to the area said, “Look how big the sky is!” I became intrigued with how landscapes that are void of most vegetation can strikingly portray the illusion of vast spaciousness, as well as allow for a direct experience with the raw forms, colors and surfaces that might otherwise be obscured by grass, moss, or trees.












