Unsung heroes

Like many people I enjoy watching nature films on television. Like everyone else I am amazed and delighted, occasionally awed, by the spectacular shots of scenery, and animals doing everything animals do, sometimes up close and personal. This, in all kinds of weather, all kinds of terrain. And I have often thought, hey, somebody is taking that picture.

But so often we don't know who that somebody is. If there's somebody making some kind of trek – to the top of a mountain, or through a park or rain forest, or along a particular river – we may know who that person is, at least come to know who s/he is during the course of the program, as s/he talks to us about what is being seen and experienced, and the Significance of It All. Yes, this person is visiting these amazing, often dangerous places, proving himself or herself (most often himself) all kinds of intrepid, but hey, the photographer is right there with him! Sometimes ahead of him, so as to capture that moment the Intrepid Explorer takes the final steps up that impossibly steep stretch of mountain. Intrepid Photographer is right there, and lugging a bunch of heavy equipment in the bargain. And getting none of the glory.

And then there are the people-less programs like Arctic Bears, which I watched recently on PBS, or The Penguins of the Antarctic of a couple of years back. On these kinds of shows, you know you've got photographers working in extreme conditions. And what they give us are all these wonderful shots of mama polar bears sheltering baby polar bears, romping with them in the snow, teaching them how to scout for seals beneath the ice, then break through the ice to get at them. We get mind-boggling pictures of mama and papa Emperor penguins sheltering junior in the midst of blizzards, or making the very long march from the sea to the traditional breeding grounds.

And there are programs like this on lions, on gorillas; there are all those underwater programs about fish or seals or whales or reefs. In all of them our unsung heroes, the photographers, are producing spectacular work for our delight and edification.

Of course the photographers are listed in the credits at the end of each program, but how many of you out there in television land take note of who they are as the credits go by? (Indeed, how many of you pay any attention to the credits at all?) I know I never do, even if I've had one of my 'there's a photographer there, taking that incredible shot,' thoughts, at some point in the show. Even in movies, how many of us take note of who the photographer (called, in the movies, a cinematographer) was, even if the photography was sensational? I think of the fairly recent The Painted Veil, (cinematographer, Stuart Dryburgh) with so many absolutely gorgeous shots. We know actors, we know directors, we don't know the people who make it possible for us to see the whatever it is. The only photographer I can think of offhand is James Wong Howe – who died in 1976 for heaven's sake – and even him I had to look up on the Internet, to make sure I was remembering his name correctly (I wasn't).

I was pleased to see included in a recent "trailer" (and why are they called that? They come before the actual film, do not trail after) of the upcoming Ken Burns program on our national parks, shots of photographers as they were doing their thing. We could see them all bundled up against the cold, or peering out of open helicopters, or bending over their cameras on steep, rocky slopes. This is the kind of acknowledgement I'd like to see more of, to remind us all of the eye and steady hand behind the beauty and the wonder.