Creative: Don’t be that Person

I don’t know Jimmy Chin. Never met him. Might never meet him. But man, do I have mad respect for the guy. The reason I’m bringing this up is because I heard someone semi-trashing Jimmy Chin a few days ago. As it tends to be, another photographer. Ego, insecurity, and jealousy are rampant in the professional space. The industry itself, for most professionals, is teetering on the brink of total destruction, and the “easy” paths to success of the 1990s and early 2000s are a distant memory. Things are hard.

The photographer in question will remain nameless, but his point was that Jimmy had become “too commercial.”

Too commercial. Hmm. The photographer in question was in fact attempting to become “too commercial” himself but wasn’t finding the success he imagined he should have. Instead of looking at Jimmy and asking “Okay, what can I learn from this bloke,” or turning inward and asking “How do I better myself as a human and image-maker?” he decided to take a soft-handed swipe at Chin. Remember people, I have worked around the photography industry since 1990, and have worked for Kodak Professional out of Los Angeles and for Blurb covering Europe, Australia, Canada and the United States, so hearing photographers take pot shots at each other is commonplace. My point to you now is, don’t be that person.

I first learned about Jimmy Chin way back during my photojournalism studies at UT Austin.(More on this later.) I was granted permission to take a graduate class as an undergraduate, a rare gift. I was “assigned” another student as my project for the entire semester. I thought I was hot shit until I found myself surrounded by older, more intelligent, more skilled graduate students who had a far better grasp of documentary life than I did. The student I was assigned to was a guy named Rick. Rick was a climber, and a writer, and Rick had friends. Tony and Jeff being the two I remember most. (Tony was a madman.) Jeff’s wife was a climber too, but I had such a crush on her I couldn’t even speak when she was around. (She eventually taught me how to use my feet when bouldering.)

I didn’t know anything about climbing. Zero. Nada. The first person I ever saw climb anything was Jeff doing a 5.12 something in Austin’s greenbelt. A crack route traversing a thirty foot section of flat roof directly above my head. Jeff was exotic, at least to me. Long hair, headband, and ripped unlike anyone in my circles. Mid route I look up to see Jeff kick his feet loose while hanging by just his fingertips wedged into the crack. He casually changed body position, reconnected his feet and continued up and over the lip. My first idiotic thought was “Oh, it’s probably not that difficult because he looks like he’s not even trying.”

Turns out Jeff was the editor of a climbing magazine, something I learned later, and that all these boys and girls were hardcore climbers. What this meant to me at the time? Nothing. I still didn’t know shit. They told me I had to repel if I was going to make decent images. Being scared of heights, I explained my way out of repelling by saying I was “looking for something different.” (Shit pictures from the ground.) These folks lived and breathed climbing. And I mean it. Diet, training, glueing fingertips, studying routes, etc. I realized if I was ever going to be a photographer I needed to take the same approach.

Rick was my subject, and I was his. He dissected me like no one else. His level of observation was far beyond mine. “F%$#,” I thought. “He’s watching my every move and even dissected my body language.” And the boy could write. I quickly found myself in a position of knowing I was the weak link, something I did not like. I could have gone one of two directions. Resentment or admit my limitations and learn. I chose the latter, and I continue to do this today. I am not the top of the pyramid. Never have been. I have mentors and I have those I view as the future of the creativity. Instead of looking for holes in their lives or businesses, I look for what I can learn, make my own, and add to my arsenal.

DISCLAIMER: My mind tells me I learned of Jimmy during this period. It could have been at the bouldering contest at Hueco Tanks, but more likely it was because I began to read climbing magazines. Jimmy may or may not have been submitting images at this time, but my connection to climbing stems to this period which is why I believe I learned of him at this time, but most likely due to his climbing exploits and not his photography. I can’t be sure.

Jimmy’s climbing exploits speak for themselves. Pick one. Meru? That’s it. Hall of Fame. Done. How about skiing? Pick one. How about skiing off Everest? That’s it. Hall of Fame. Done. The last time I skied I nearly killed myself on a blue slope at Santa Fe Ski Basin. Now, I had no idea how to ski and my psycho friend took me to the top of the mountain, left me there, and said “You’ll be fine.” It didn’t help the basin has mislabeled the slope, so what I thought was a blue was actually a black. My only thought was “survive.” Seconds later I was off trail plowing into a snow fence at high speed. Haven’t skied since.

Jimmy’s photography exploits speak for themselves. Apparently, there is a newish book. Win an Oscar, make film after film, get your images plastered on marketing collateral worldwide and STILL the book as a feather in the cap. I told you that photogs want books regardless of what else they do in their career. Jimmy’s filmmaking exploits speak for themselves. Free Solo, Meru, Nyad, The Rescue, Wild Life, Return to Space. I’ve not seen all these, but the ones I have are incredibly well done. Makes my silly YouTube films look like, well, silly YouTube films.

And it needs to be said here that Jimmy isn’t Jimmy without his wife and creative partner Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi. No idea how this partnership works, so can’t speak too much in regard but just know it takes two to tango. Filmmaking for certain, and photography most often, requires a team.

There are two more areas I find impressive. One, the travel. I just did a month for Blurb, granted it was a month in total pain due to my back issue, but just a month, and now I feel like I’m in recovery mode. I feel fat and out of shape. Jimmy moves around, a lot. He somehow manages to train and stay productive even on multi-month voyages. I mostly drink alcohol late at night while listening to photographers take potshots at one another. (Just kidding.)

Jimmy lives in Jackson Hole. Being a part-time Wyoming childhood kind of kid, I have an appreciation for this as well.(Ranching) Yesterday, I had a conversation with one of my favorite cinema guys who happens to live in LA, my old stomping ground. “I fuc^%$%$” hate it here,” he said. “The air feels like a landfill.” Somehow, Jimmy landed a house in Wyoming, and this is no easy task. This means success over a multi-decade period, and again, this is something to applaud not resent. You may have no interest in a house in Wyoming, but you have to admit how incredible his base is. (And yes, I’d love a house in Wyoming.)

Last night, while I was writhing around like a pretzel trying to find a pain-free position, I did a quick look at Jimmy online. His site is simple and clean. To the point. I’d love more of a story or blog-style addition, but I’m sure he’s using social for that. Like all other creatives, I don’t want to know him on social. As you all know, I don’t believe in those platforms because they do more harm than good, and I don’t want to support the parent companies who, year after year, continue to see one ethics violation after another. Now, let me climb down from my soapbox.

Recently, I was asked to create a twenty-minute TED-style talk about two different topics. The person who asked me to do this described me as an “expert” on both topics. The only problem, I’m an expert on neither. So, my presentation began with this slide. “Dan Milnor, Expert.” The second slide was “In Knowing He Is Not An Expert.” You could argue I’m a photography expert, but I wouldn’t go that far. I was never interested in the technical side, and again, I’m not at the top of the pyramid. What about blogging, writing, marketing, cycling, hiking, fly fishing, etc? No. I’m no expert.

Jimmy on the other hand. Let’s have a look. Skiing? Yes. Climbing? Yes. Photography? Yes. Filmmaking? Yes. Travel? Yes. Fitness? Yes. Running a business? Most likely. Working as a brand ambassador? Yes. (North Face) This isn’t normal. In baseball, we would call this a six or seven-tool player. I’m reminded of a line from Woody Harrelson, in a movie I can’t remember, where he says “I could have gone to medical school, it was the science part I had a problem with.” This reminds me of this photographer taking shots at Jimmy Chin. You see these skills and accolades and instead of going “That’s cool,” you turn the conversation back on yourself. (This happens daily with photographers.) It’s the “tell me every single detail of what you are doing,” guy who when you return the favor clams up and refuses to share anything.

Don’t be the person who takes a swipe at folks like this. Sure, there are the car brands, the watch brands, the climbing brands, and more, but you have to ask what he is doing with that revenue. By the looks of it, he’s doing cool shit. Anytime I see guys like Jimmy I think “I have to get off my ass and DO something.” A hike, a run, a shoot, a hook kick to my nephew’s head. Something, anything. And speaking of YouTube, one last thing. Next time you find yourself mired in the insanity that is photography channels on YouTube, stop what you are doing and look up a guy like Jimmy. This is a real photographer/filmmaker. Not some YouTube clown who knows how to clickbait strangers into a follow.