What surgery taught me about photography

I’m relatively new to photography and not at all new to surgery. Over the past year, I’ve did a deep dive into lessons, YouTube videos, and practice with film. However, one of the things that actually has helped me the most has been a decade long process of learning surgery. There are a lot of similarities, which is why photography resonates so much for me – the combination of art and technicality, working with changing subjects, and having a lot of things that are out of our control (as opposed to say, a desk-based job).

These are a couple of the things that I’ve learned from my first year of really shooting film - from surgery

It’s the person, not the machine (and always will be for me)

There are so many gear review videos floating out there. They are easily the most popular type of photography video, and often a first question is what kind of camera someone uses. All of the photographers I admire most have been able to make incredible images from disposable or point and shoot cameras in addition to their $$$ medium format ones. In the menu, composition and lighting are the main courses and gear is…not even dessert. It’s like a peppermint after dessert.

Choosing the right modality is important, but I also think it’s a very small part of being a good surgeon. I feel even more strongly about this now that I’m in practice. There have been so many studies on modality – open, laparoscopic, robotic. (There are well-documented differences in recovery time, ergonomics, etc.) People who spend a lot of time doing this know that a machine doesn’t automatically make a good operation, and it takes years to learn how to be thorough and facile. One of my favorite surgeons often says “people want to know that you care before they care what you know.”

I’ve found that for most patients, the most important part of this is their surgeon – the kindness that they bring, how they understand who the patient is, and how carefully they decide what operation is right for them. This is about two thousand times harder to teach than the robot manual.

A photo shoot is a small part of the total experience.

When I was in medical school, I think a lot of us started out thinking that surgeons operate five days a week. Operating is a small portion of our time. It’s a tip of an iceberg, and likewise, shooting is a small part of photography. The more complex and impactful an operation is, the more time that has gone into counseling, coordinating colleagues, and being prepared in multiple ways. An operation is an endpoint of a long road. Shooting as well (at least for me) actually doesn’t take that much time. Especially as I’ve been lately taking photos for other people, I spend more and more time planning and in Lightroom.

Community is actually transformative

When I moved, the first thing I (and a lot of transplants) looked for was other people. I scoured the internet for community classes and groups outside of work.

I had taken a photography class here and there, but it was only after I found a community film studio in Houston (Flats, one of the best places I’ve seen) that I really started to moved forward with film. I took lessons, signed up for community dark room, and got to meet other members. One of the first things I did when I moved to San Luis Obispo was to look for a film community, which I found through a dark room class at Cuesta College. I’ve met so many interesting people here, including one guy who has an enormous collection of black and white film Sopranos portraits.

Communities take on different forms. I’m pretty sure I would not have survived the last seven years without my co-residents and co-fellows. Besides being in a sleep-deprived, junk food-filled trench, I think we are meant to learn things together, particularly if they are hard. My co-fellow is also one of my closest friends and learning digital. And now, we get to talk about our jobs and photos whenever we call.

A couple months in, I’m still settling in but feel so much more grounded here than when I started, particularly because of the people I’ve met.