A New Generation Is Picking Up Cameras — and That's a Good Thing

Something is happening that I find genuinely encouraging. A whole generation has grown up with a capable camera in their pocket, and a real slice of them are not satisfied with snapshots — they want to make images that mean something. As a working photographer, I do not see that as competition. I see it as the craft getting healthier.

The Barrier Fell, and That’s Good

When I started, the on-ramp to photography was expensive and intimidating. Now a teenager in Terrace can learn composition, light, and editing on a device they already own. That is a profound change. The gatekeeping that used to keep people out — the cost of a body and lenses, the cost of film and processing — is largely gone for anyone who wants to learn the fundamentals.

The result is a flood of young people experimenting, and a small percentage of them are getting seriously good, fast. The ones who break through are not the ones with the most expensive setup. They are the ones who study, who shoot constantly, and who develop an actual point of view.

Role Models Matter More Than Ever

In a feed full of identical, algorithm-friendly images, having real role models is what saves a young photographer from blending into the sameness. The photographers worth modelling yourself on are not the ones with the most followers — they are the ones with a clear, recognisable vision.

Canada is full of them. Edward Burtynsky reframed industry as something monumental and worth looking at. Paul Nicklen and Cristina Mittermeier turned ocean and polar photography into a force for conservation through SeaLegacy. Dave Brosha refused to choose between landscape and portrait and won international awards in both. Paul Zizka built a career on photographing the under-documented corners of the mountains. I wrote about all five and what they shoot, because studying people with real vision is the antidote to making forgettable work.

What unites them is not gear or luck. It is commitment to a subject and respect for it. That is a model any kid can follow.

How to Find Your Own Eye

The thing nobody can give you is your eye — your particular way of seeing. You build it by:

• Shooting your own place. You do not need to fly anywhere. The Skeena Valley, the coast at Prince Rupert, the trails above Terrace — these are under-photographed and full of frames nobody has made yet. Familiarity is a superpower; you can be there when the light turns.
• Going deep, not wide. Pick a subject and return to it for a year. Depth is what separates a portfolio from a feed.
• Studying light obsessively. Light is the whole game. Watch how it moves across a day and a season where you live.
• Letting go of the metrics. Likes and follower counts are a distraction. The photographers who last are the ones who chase the image, not the algorithm.

What I Tell the Ones Who Ask

When a young person here asks me how to get into this, I tell them the truth: it is the most rewarding thing I do, it is also hard work, and the only way in is to start now with what you have. I also tell them to ask questions — most working photographers, myself included, are happy to help someone who is genuinely curious and respectful.

The future of photography in places like the Northwest depends on exactly these people. The more local eyes there are pointed at this landscape, the better and more honestly it gets documented.

If you are one of them — or if you need a photographer for something that matters to you — I would love to hear from you. Get in touch.