Felice Frankel explains how to see, capture and convey scientific information.
Q. You say you are asking readers to see differently. What do you mean by that?
When you look at something specifically to document it - as when making a sketch, illustration or photograph - you don't just glance at it. You study it, linger with it, and see things you would not ordinarily see. Most important, you begin to ask questions. And when you ask questions and seek answers, you begin to understand more and to change the way you think about your subject - the way you "envision" it.
And that is basically the essential point of the book. This is not a book about making pretty pictures. It is about encouraging the reader to see differently, and ultimately to think differently about her work.
Q. Do researchers need images that are beautiful? Don't they simply need to convey information in a clear and intelligible way?
It is essential that the research community begin talking to the public, and one powerful way to do that is with wonderful - you could say beautiful - and accessible pictures. I am convinced that researchers are drawn to science not only for the excitement of discovery, but because science can also be breathtakingly beautiful. However, perhaps because of their training, researchers do not always communicate that part. They might believe that making beautiful images of their work detracts from the validity of the investigation. This handbook hopes to change that attitude. There is no question that one may communicate serious experimentation and, at the same time, create engaging and compelling science images while maintaining the integrity of the science.
Q. Why do you think that is so important?
Society must become more engaged with science if it is to make intelligent decisions. We seem to be perfectly content with what, to me, is an embarrassingly high degree of scientific illiteracy. That simply must change. To understand the remarkable advances in technology that are driving this globe, the general public must begin to have some idea from where that technology comes. Technology comes from science. That message seems to get lost these days with so much hype about application.
Q. Does an attention to aesthetics compromise the objectivity of scientific photographs, or does it in fact enhance their ability to communicate credibly?
You'll notice that I never use the word "aesthetics" in Envisioning Science. My goal is to promote communication, specifically the communicative power of pictures. For example, one of the biggest problems I find is that scientists usually include too much "stuff" in their pictures. That complicates the image and makes it difficult for the viewer to know how to look at the picture. In the end, the scientist is not communicating the essence of the research. We need to simplify science pictures, and I discuss various approaches for that effort. The additional benefit is that the researcher becomes clearer about the essential components of his work while thinking about the best way to communicate the research.
Q. How does photographing science and technology differ from other kinds of photography?
We in the science community use pictures to communicate the science, not to express ourselves. An artist/photographer, for the most part, has another agenda. Her goal is to create images that convey her personality or her ideas, whether political or aesthetic.
Q. What mistakes do people commonly make when attempting to photograph science? What is the greatest challenge facing researchers who need to photograph their work?
Most researchers assume that everyone immediately sees what they want them to see, but that is not necessarily the case. It is quite difficult to put ourselves in the position of being a "first time viewer" because we all become too familiar with our work. We know exactly how to look at the image and where to look, but the person seeing our work for the first time has to be guided though the photograph or the figure, especially if there many forms of data in it. Most researchers simply put too much information in their pictures. Their challenge is to understand which pieces are unnecessary.
Q. If you could offer researchers only three tips for photographing their work, what would they be?
Edit, edit, edit.
I am absolutely convinced that the process of editing and making decisions about what can be edited is what produces a highly communicative image. At the same time, this process clarifies in the scientist's mind what is the essence of the science.
Q. How did you become interested in science photography?
Over 30 years ago, my husband bought me a camera while he was in Vietnam, during the Tet Offensive. At that time, you could get great deals on expensive camera equipment, so he got me a Nikon and some lenses. Before then, I had never taken a picture in my life. I starting playing with the equipment and became hooked. At that point, I only made photographs as a hobby, never thinking I would ever go into it professionally; I was content with my work as a laboratory technician working for I. Bernard Weinstein, who was doing research in biochemical genetics at Columbia Physicians and Surgeons, in New York City. Years later, when my children were around 7-10 years old, I began volunteering at WGBY-TV, a local PBS station in Springfield, Massachusetts, where I did some still photography for promotional purposes. That led to a series of serendipitous events, and eventually I became a landscape and architectural photographer, publishing in various magazines and working for a number of design firms. When I later published my first book, Modern Landscape Architecture, I was given the most extraordinary gift one may be given at the age of 47: a Loeb Fellowship at Harvard's Graduate School of Design. That year changed my life. While the other fellows audited classes at the GSD and the Kennedy School, I "lived" at Harvard's Science Center, hungrily absorbing the lectures of people like Stephen J. Gould and E.O. Wilson. I didn't realize how much I missed the world of science, and this was an extraordinary opportunity to return, at least intellectually. Then, one day, a colleague suggested that I audit a new course in molecular biology. After class, I introduced myself to the lecturer, who seemed quite visual in his approach to teaching, and I invited myself to lab. That lecturer/scientist, whom I didn't know from a hole in the wall, turned out to be one of the most prominent chemists in the country, George Whitesides. George introduced me to Nick Abbott, a post-doc doing some wonderful work, and who was quite open to my participation. They had just gotten an article accepted to Science Magazine, and I felt I could improve on their images. The punch line is that we got the cover of Science and the rest, as they say, is history. That was the beginning of a new direction in my work as a photographer. It became the best of all possible worlds for me: I was able to return to the world of science through this back door, and was also able to make a contribution.
I then moved on to MIT, and you can imagine what an intellectual candy store MIT is.
Q. Describe your experience of working with scientists. I imagine that most have welcomed your approach to photographing their work. Have any resisted it and if so, why?
It wasn't easy in the beginning. Remember, there aren't many people doing what I'm doing. In fact, I don't know of any. Yes, there are artists who work in specific labs bringing in their points of view but those people are artists first and foremost, and I am not. I am a general science photographer interested in finding approaches to communicate the science and not myself.
Initially I approached those on the MIT campus whose work had the potential to be captured and visualized in, perhaps, a more interesting way. Some of the scientists were probably thinking, what in the world does this woman have to do with my work? Remember, there is not yet a job description of what I do. I don't fit into a nice, neatly defined box, and I am sure the idea, at first, appeared strange. But I am lucky to be a part of a community that is open to new ideas, and those who were open-minded listened. I would first see what they were doing, look at their images, and then make suggestions on how to improve the material and document the work.
Q. Why did you organize the book the way you did?
It was important for readers to understand they would benefit from understanding all scale levels when capturing images, and for that reason I fashioned the chapters around seeing science at different scales. Envisioning Science is primarily about making pictures, but it is also about seeing. Most investigators get stuck on a particular point of view. In a certain way that makes sense. After all, if your work takes place at the micron level, you are not about to use an ordinary camera and lens to communicate the science. Yet I am convinced that by learning how to see and think about all scale levels, you will benefit in the way you view your work. I encourage the reader to read each chapter, even if they think they will never be using that piece of equipment.
You'll notice that I discuss very little of the science within the main body of the book. I want the reader to pay attention to making good pictures. But because the science is what drives the thinking behind the images, I've included at the back of the book a visual index containing information about the content of the images. That way, readers can focus on the image making, and when they feel like it, can turn to the back for more science.
Q. A sense of wonder pervades your own photographs, which capture the dynamism of natural processes. Isn't it harder for someone who has been working on an experiment for a long time to experience and capture this?
I am confident that most researchers still see the wonder in their work as I do. But in a way, they have never been given permission to communicate that. This book is giving them permission. And if they approach their imaging with that in mind, they will then see it differently, perhaps in ways they never did before.
Q. How do you react to suggestions that your own work is artistic?
I find it interesting that some view these images as art. That is not my intention. I want people to see the science in the pictures, not me or my ideas. An artist is usually more concerned with the latter. But if someone insists that there is art in these pictures, I would suggest that the art is in the science itself.
Q. Who should read Envisioning Science?
I wrote the book specifically for researchers and students in a number of disciplines of science and engineering. But my hope is the book will also be interesting for the non-scientist. I imagine the images will compel some general readers to take a peek into the magnificent world of science and engineering without needing to completely understand what they are looking at.
Q. What would you most like readers to take away from the book?
First, that their work deserves to be communicated with standards that go far beyond what they may be used to. I would also like them to know that in the process of raising those standards, they will begin to see their work differently and to expand the way they think about their science.
Just as important, they should celebrate the reason why they chose a life in science and engineering. I would like them to see that is perfectly appropriate to share this beauty and magnificence with the rest of the world.