MOBILE, Ala. (WALA) – The FOX10 family has lost a man who meant so much to generations of here at this station. Robert Sanders, a true trailblazer, has passed away.

Sanders retired from FOX10 in 1997 after working for the station for 44 years.

When he retired, leaders from across the Gulf Coast and even other stations honored him with a day named in his honor.

Sanders began working at WALA-TV in 1952 and was one of the first African American TV cameramen in the Mobile area. When he retired, he was the longest serving employee at WALA, and he had covered more sporting events than any other media person in Mobile.

Not only was he great at what he did, Sanders was an even better person. Everyone who met him talked about his professionalism and what a truly nice person he was.

Sanders was 92 years old.

Copyright 2024 WALA. All rights reserved.

As photographers, we choose where we take photographs. While it is undoubtedly a joy to take pictures in a climate-controlled photo studio, tethered to a laptop while your favorite tunes play through speakers, many romanticize taking photographs under challenging conditions. We dream of being assigned to document a war or cover the aftermath of an earthquake.

Some of us desire to work in extreme heat or cold conditions and return home with unique photographs and dramatic tales of what it was like working in these less-than-ideal conditions. Whatever challenging environment you choose to subject yourself to, knowledge and preparation are crucial if you are to walk away from that environment safe, and with a memory card filled with strong images.

This article will examine creating photographs in extreme cold, where you and your equipment will be outside for hours at a time. I spoke with NY-based photographer Jamie Scott, who recently completed a remarkable time-lapse photography and video project that shows how beautiful the effects of brutal cold on nature can be. Our conversation focused on five problems you will need to solve if you aim to create work in a cold environment. 

Your Cameras Will Die Quickly

As the temperature drops, battery efficiency decreases. Poor battery life is a minor problem if you shoot for an hour or two, but it is a serious concern on long shoots. “For the projects I was undertaking, I needed the cameras to run for days – I was using the Canon R5 and the Canon R5C. I also needed to be able to change the batteries without ruining the shots, so I did that a couple of ways. I kept the camera batteries inside the bodies, but I powered the cameras with external batteries via USB-C. The advantage is that it uses the USB-C battery before it uses the internal battery, so I could shoot for days, and I just had to change the USB-C battery. USB-C batteries need to be PD (power delivery); otherwise, they won’t power the cameras. I learned this the hard way. I was trying to shoot with prime lenses so I could get the benefits of the wider aperture. There are also fewer issues with prime lenses since the focal length doesn’t change when the lens is knocked,” said Jamie.

With mirrorless cameras, battery life can be as short as two hours in cold temperatures. Jamie sometimes used a Sony a7R III and a7R IV with adapted Canon lenses.

Sony makes an external power block that you can use with four Sony batteries at a time. The great thing is that you can shoot endlessly without disturbing the camera. I would change batteries every 24 hours or so. I always strapped disposable hand warmers to the batteries, and I used tripod hammocks to hold the batteries so they weren’t on the ground. I also sometimes put the cameras in a weather pod, which is a small tent with enough space for me to sit in.

Frost Will Form 

Another recurring problem was that lenses develop frost. This happens mainly in the morning and evening. “I would get up very early and set up the cameras at around 6 in the morning to start shooting just as the sun was rising to maximize shoot time. That was for the start of the project, though, because by the end, I was renting houses that had property that I could shoot on so I could actually set up the cameras and leave them out for five or six days at a time.”

I bought waterproof cases that I could put the cameras in. I cut a hole out for the lens, and I used hand warmers to keep the box warm. I would swap these out every day. In the evening, if I were taking the cameras inside overnight, I had to make sure that I was not bringing them into a warm environment too quickly. Many times I would leave the cameras inside the front porch or in a garage. I needed to be sure the cameras weren’t getting up to say, 70 degrees inside and then being taken outside to a 30-degree environment. What seemed to work was keeping the cameras cold when they were indoors and keeping them slightly warm when they were outdoors. It’s a matter of keeping the extremes at bay.

In addition to the problem of frost forming on the lens, there is also the possibility of snow and freezing rain falling onto any camera that is left outside for an extended period. Jamie recommends Flex Lens Shades that cover the front of the lens. This shade is a flap that can be quickly raised when the photographer wants to take a photograph or lowered if snow is blowing on the front of the lens. “Whatever precautions I took, I still ended up having to clean ice and snow off the lenses periodically. I would do this by breathing on them and then using a lens brush or wipe.”

It Gets Dark Quickly

If you are leaving cameras outside for an extended period of time, it is inevitable that the exposure will change as time passes. During winter, light gets dim by 5 pm, which makes it challenging to shoot in ambient light. If you are near a power source, as Jamie was when he utilized rentals, you can use artificial lighting. When external power is not available, Jamie recommends low-cost camping lights. They aren’t great in the middle of the night, but they can extend the shot during sunset. These lights are handy because they are waterproof, rechargeable, and last a decent amount of time on a single charge. If adding lights is not an option, you can adjust the exposure to accommodate changing lighting conditions. However, it is best only to adjust shutter and ISO. Aperture should not be changed because it changes the depth of field, and this makes it difficult to combine shots if you are creating a time-lapse. “If the exposure has been adjusted throughout the sequence, LR Time Lapse is a great application for fixing jumps in brightness. It automatically evens out the changes in luminance by detecting the adjustments to shutter and ISO.”

You Need To Move The Camera Smoothly

Camera motion is neither a component of still photography nor a requirement for time-lapse photography. As you can see from Jamie’s video, however, adding camera motion can make a time-lapse video more compelling. Jamie suggests trying a slider rather than fussing with balancing and calibrating a gimbal in the cold.

I have four sliders, and at various times, any one of them might be frozen and not working. I found the Dynamic Perception sliders work best in harsh environments. Their systems are not perfect, but it’s always been my go-to slider because it is so modular. It’s like working with Lego – you can build it into any configuration you like. They use a Kevlar belt to move the camera unit, whereas most sliders run on a rope, and that rope would get wet and freeze. All of the metal sliders I tried would freeze or jam. Something about the rubber-like Kevlar of the Dynamic Perception unit allowed it to keep going. One issue I had with pretty much all the slider systems, though, is that they are controlled from your phone using Bluetooth to connect to the controllers. Bluetooth does not work well in the cold. I would find that if I set up right away after the equipment had been indoors, it worked fine. But if I was trying to connect after the equipment had been out for a few hours, it wouldn’t work. If I were to do a cold-weather project again, I would seek to find a way to control the sliders with a wired controller.

You Will Be Cold

When I first started, I was staying outside for as long as my cameras were operating outside. I was trying to stay up from sunrise to sunset. A serious problem with this was my toes and fingers were starting to freeze. I would sweat a lot during the initial setup, but once that was done, I just had to stand still and wait for 10 hours, so my sweat would start to freeze on my clothes. I learned cotton is terrible for this. I was also desperate for the toilet all day, and I could never go when I had to watch the cameras. Something about the cold always makes you want to go more.

Over time, I came up with the idea of renting homes where I could shoot on the property, and I could constantly check on the cameras all day but basically leave them unattended. I also didn’t have to worry about people stealing the cameras. Once they were set up, I just had to pop out every few hours to make sure everything was working properly.

My clothing also got better over the years. When I first started, I didn’t buy any special clothing, but over time, I found things like proper photography gloves that had an inner lining glove and flip-top mittens. I did a lot of research and swapped cotton t-shirts for Uniqlo Heat Tech thermals. For my freezing toes, I bought Smart Wool socks and insulated boots, as well as hand warmers for my gloves and pockets. I used mittens from the Heat Company. Another important piece of equipment that I didn’t have the first few years was ice cleats for my boots. I slipped on some ice in Montreal and hurt my knuckle, which I still feel three years later. Ultimately, I settled on a pair of cleats that could be removed when they weren’t needed,

For anyone considering embarking on a project of this sort, or any project that is outside your comfort zone, Jamie offers the following advice: “When I started this project, I did not relish standing in the cold for hours. I had to do it to get the shots I wanted – it was a means to an end. But over the 5 years, I grew to really love it (having the correct clothing helped with this, of course). If I could offer one piece of advice, it would be to enjoy and savor the process.

The exhibition Generations of Resilience, which opened last week at Brussels’ Hangar Photo Art Centre, brings together the artistic universes of 22 Ukrainian photographers spanning three generations. Fittingly spread out over three floors, one per generation, this haunting and poetic show traces recurring visual motifs – along with the ongoing struggle for freedom and search for identity – throughout the country’s photographic history. Since Russia launched a full-scale invasion of the country in February 2022, Ukraine has been at war, and life – and art – have changed in every way. 

The Parliament’s Sarah Schug sat down with the creative mind behind the exhibition, Kyiv-based curator Kateryna Radchenko, to discuss the disappearance of the conceptual photography genre in the country, the challenges of organising an exhibition during wartime and art as a means of survival. 

How do you ensure the war doesn’t overshadow the exhibition – or do you want to use it to draw (the at times diminishing) attention to the invasion? Is there a political dimension to it?  

Life in Ukraine is all political. Just take my personal life experience: I was born at the end of the 80s, and lived through the Soviet period, gaining independence, the political and economic changes of the 90s, the first revolution in 1991, the second revolution in 2004, the revolution from 2013 to 2014. Now, there’s the war. All my life I’ve been affected by political changes. 

It’s not possible to separate it from politics. You can see it through the exhibited works by photographers from three different generations. We didn’t have a plan to only select artists who incorporate a socio-political reflection in their work – it’s just unavoidable that these events influence the artists and change their practices. 

What do the generations featured have in common?  

Having to fight all the time – for your identity, for your country, for a better life. The Kharkiv School of Photography, which emerged in the 70s and 80s, was a revolutionary movement created to fight the Soviet system by exposing and criticising the reality of life at the time. It was a visual protest: photography was used to stand up against the system. Then, after Soviet rule ended in the 1990s and 2000s, the main questions were, “What is Ukraine?” and “What is a Ukrainian artist”? 

It was a search for identity, something that shone through in the work of photographers who explored these questions through all kinds of aspects, from the body and culture to the social and the political. 

Now, it’s again on another level. We’re already 10 years into the war and two years inside a full-scale war. This means that the young generation, 18 to 20-year-olds, have spent half their lives in wartime. It’s difficult to imagine how traumatised these kids are. This is also reflected in their photography, through which they try to deal with this traumatic experience and find a way to live with it.  

That’s what connects all generations – this fight and using photography not only to archive moments but also to pass through their traumatic experiences and search for a way to move forward. There is also a connection through the visual language. The photographers from the Kharkiv School opened new horizons through their different experiments with collages and painting on photographs, methods that reappear in contemporary works.  

Using photography to take distance from what’s happening and analysing it can also be a form of protest. Having the camera in between can give you a different perspective.  

Does the war also foster a movement in the opposite direction – escapist art, so to speak?  

Most projects by young photographers are connected to the war. It’s not possible to think about something different when living in Ukraine. You can’t think about self-discovery when it’s not relevant to the war. You can’t think about ecology when it’s not relevant to the war. It’s not possible. Even artists who don’t live in Ukraine. Everyone has relatives and friends there, and everyone knows someone on the frontline. It’s always present.  

What were the logistical challenges in organising the show considering the current situation in Ukraine?  

The original works came from the Kharkiv Museum of Photography. When the escalation started, its staff managed to bring the collection to [the European Union], and the collection is now based in Germany. As to the new generation, all works were sent digitally and printed here.  

What’s the photography and artistic scene in Ukraine like right now? Are events still being organised?  

Everything depends on the district you live in. Closer to the frontline it’s dangerous: there is no art, not even access to food sometimes. It’s dangerous and bombs fall daily. It’s all about hiding and surviving. Big cities like Odessa or Kharkiv are in risky territory – they’re on Russia’s radar. You have a lot of rockets but still, life is going on. Public events are happening, including art. It’s a question of how to work with this new reality. When you go to the theatre and hear a siren, everything will be stopped and you go to the shelter. In the western part [of the country], there are fewer attacks and more events, adapting to the new conditions and safety rules.  

Art is back because you still have to live and move forward. Art helps with that. It helps to catch a break, to process things, and share experiences.  

What does this mean for the photography festival you have been organising in Odessa?  

Unfortunately, we are not able to do it in the same format as in the past when it included a lot of different exhibitions and gatherings. There are no shelters in Odessa, and we as organisers don’t want to carry the responsibility for other people’s lives. When you gather people, you have to provide shelter and when there’s no shelter, it’s better not to gather. That’s why our team has changed the format. Instead of the festival, we offer different support programs for Ukrainian photographers: mentorship for teenagers, a support program for photographers on the frontline, lectures… We are doing a lot but in a different way.  

Has there been a shift in Ukrainian photography caused by the current war?  

The war changed photography styles. In the exhibition, we show photography series by the same artists from before and after the escalation, and you can see radical changes. One artist for example, who used to paint on his photographs, using colour and humour, now shoots black and white images from the frontline. Humour is an element often present in Ukrainian art; it helps you to survive. Another [photographer] used to do street photography with a dash of irony; now he is making portraits of wives and kids who lost their men and fathers in the war. A lot of photographers switched and became war photographers. 

It’s not possible to think about something else [other] than the war. Life in Ukraine has changed at such a rapid pace; each day you have to adapt to something new. First it was rockets, then ballistics, then drones, then a winter without electricity and light. Each time, there’s something new. All this adaptation to things you never had to deal with before takes so much energy. Artists in Ukraine mostly try to document these daily changes because, in order to be able to do conceptual work, you need time and a safe space to reflect. We don’t have that.  

What do you hope visitors take away from the exhibition? 

I hope it shines a light not just on Ukrainian photography but also on Ukrainian history. That it becomes clear that our fight has not just been going on for the last two years, but much longer – that we have been fighting generation after generation after generation. [I hope] that it becomes clear that we decided in which direction we want to move, and that we are dying for it. This is our decision, about our identity, who we are. 

With this recent escalation, Ukraine was put on the global map, but people didn’t know much about it. I hope this exhibition clarifies the historical, political and social connections, and helps people understand what is happening today. 

You live in Kyiv. Was it always clear that you wanted to stay? 

I didn’t want to leave, even though it’s dangerous. It’s a question of fighting and luck. You can be killed at any time. But I don’t want to leave my family. 

Ukraine is going through radical historical changes, and for me, it’s important to be part of it. I think it gives me the chance and the right to do this exhibition, to share what’s happening, from an artistic but also from a personal perspective. If I lived abroad, it wouldn’t be fair. Like this, I can observe how life has changed myself, and I don’t have to rely on the media which doesn’t always provide the right information. 

How did you come up with the idea for the exhibition?  

Hangar invited me to do a show, and we started talking about it a year ago. But everything in Ukraine changes so fast, and we revisited the idea six months ago. For me, it was also important to understand the situation in Belgium and how to speak to the Belgian audience. I learned that the Kharkiv School had never been shown here before which is why I wanted to start with this historical aspect.  

Additionally, I wanted to make sure to not just show works dealing with the war. There is a lot of that in the media and other shows already. I wanted to go a bit deeper and not just stay on the surface. I hope I managed to show another perspective, the historical connections – something that can be relevant for other countries as well.  

Generations of Resilience runs until 23 March.