I remember when the enormity of the NYC Marathon really hit me. A few years ago, I was in a helicopter, flying eye level with Verrazzano, looking north to the distant Manhattan skyline, and I noticed the cables supporting the bridge in motion. And not just, you know, wiggle. They were shaking, rattling, jumping, shaking. The sheer weight and motion of hordes of runners, their legs moving up and down, like pistons, rock a suspension bridge designed to let heavy loads roll over it in a relatively horizontal fashion. smooth. The structure is not used to having thousands of people do the equivalent of Lindy Hop over the course of time.
A race that began in 1970 with 127 competitors circling Central Park has grown over time to span all five districts and involve more than 50,000 athletes of all skill levels. and different endurance. It has become a quintessential landmark in the New York calendar. It ties the city into a euphoric, if only for one day.
I covered it a lot, from the late ’70s, to the ’80s and ’90s, on film, and from there to the 2000s and digital era. It is not usually an event where one can “go wrong”. Huge waves of people running to your lens, wide or long, have an innate graphic impact, with richer shadows and patterns. If you’re blowing a picture of 50,000 runners coming your way, relatively slowly, it’s time to dig into carpentry or macrame as a weekend endeavor. But as always with photography, you give a little and get a little. If you fly, you get beautiful views, but sweat, blood and tears on the runway. If you’re on the street, you’ll find the humanity and friendly nature of the volunteers and fans helping and urging runners. But forget about the magnificent overview. If you use street level as a background, you should most likely bring a stool, which is of course fun to carry around all day. If you head out to Verrazzano to catch the initial wave of runners, you’re pretty much stuck there. That’s your coverage date. Today’s top runners are so fast, it’s hard to start and finish.
(Even so, in 1978, for UPI, I went to the middle of the bridge, then walked off it and hopped the subway back to Manhattan and got to the finish line to photograph Bill Rogers documenting one of the victories. The entire area around the end is heavily fenced, so I knocked down layers of fences and pushed my way up to the photo bridge (all your photo opponents always give you a warm welcome). when they’ve been standing there for hours and camping in one spot and you show up late, push in and shoot over their shoulder.) I got Rogers finishing off with an F2 and a Nikkor 80-200 f4 push-pull zoom. 5. I’m willing to break the fence and rush through the crowd like a security pull attack because I’m scared to go back to the newsroom and face Larry DeSantis without a finishing shot. Fear is the big motivator in this area.)
Sometimes the motivation is sheer madness. I got to the finish line a year, very early, and learned from tracking officials that another photographer, Peter B. Kaplan, had arranged for a crane to get him onto one of the main cables. I require the same access for UPI. Peter B. jumped wildly, but I made it onto the rope. Without seat belts, the surface was round and smooth like morning dew. The crane operator was very happy. “Next stop is the river!” he said as he backed the crane away. Peter and I worked out that, because he insisted I stay behind him, so you can see him in this frame, standing on the cable. (The runner capturing the leak off the bridge at the end of the photo is also interesting. It is hoped that no cruise ships were leaving the harbor at that time. Or, one could reason this as punishment. suitable for anyone stupid enough to make an excursion.) This heat rash, over the years in storage, developed some sort of measles, and was rife with yellow spots. But then it’s a 40 year old Ektachrome, so one could argue it weathered the storm better than I have.
The lens is long from the same point.
Film from the air. The photo below was taken for Nat Geo, with a Fujica 617 Pano camera. You’ll only get four frames on this camera with 120 reels. Reloading that thing in an open-door helicopter is fun.
Go digital. Did I mention there are over 50,000 runners.
And life goes on in NYC on race day.
And including fall foliage is good news for viewers.
Always cool when people run to the canyons of Manhattan.
Hard light creates black, hard shadows.
Shape from the air.
Early coverage, from Verrazzano. I suspect they don’t allow you to do this anymore. Shot by my good friend Dennis McDonald, who has had an incredible career as a photojournalist for life. We were the children on that bridge.
The photo above closes the book, Real deal: Field notes from the life of a working photographer. Attached text is below.
I have been writing this book for the past two years, and I have think about it for the last five years and live for the last forty years.
A photographer’s life is largely a climb safe rail and looking out, and more. And we keep do it, unskillfully, despite the fact that it’s usually nothing there to see, or what is seen as disappointing, irrelevant, dull, and hardly worth the effort, less risk to ourselves.
But we keep doing it. Many times, there is no guarantee of success, safety or remuneration. Because there may be pictures there. Impossible, but possible. And that tantalizing ability is the inexhaustible fuel that enlivens the spirit of photography, and makes you climb over the rails, even when logic says to stay the same. Irish Poet Prize-winning poet Seamus Heaney, possessing depth eloquence and understanding of the human condition, can accidentally wrote the best description of a photo career. In fact, it is inscribed on his tombstone to the north of Ireland.
“Walk in the air with your better judgment.”
More tk… .gotta keep running.
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