Man, woman or elephant: Does gender really matter in wildlife photography?
Wildlife photography is widely regarded as one of the toughest industries to make a name for yourself in. While some seem to think the only entry level is holding a camera (these are the same people that clap when an aeroplane lands), there are a number of hurdles to jump over and land mines to dodge. But in an industry dominated by men, how much higher are these hurdles when you’re a woman?
Heart beating, blood pounding in my ears, barely daring to breathe, I’m crouched in a game vehicle at an extremely awkward angle, every single muscle in my body tensed as my fingers hover over the shutter, caressing it in anticipation for the moment I’ve been waiting for. Tsetse flies buzz around me like German Luftwaffe planes, ready to bomb their poison through my clothes and into my flesh. But it doesn’t matter, there’s a leopard in a tree, we’ve been with her for 3 hours now, and she’s about to descend amongst us mere mortals. It’s 8:20am, the Luangwa heat is already stifling, and I can’t get rid of the grin that’s lodged itself on my face since arriving into Zambia. Welcome to the diary of a wildlife photographer - a female wildlife photographer.
Quite often, when it comes to talking about my work, presenting or just networking, the same look of mild surprise passes over my interlocutor’s face, before flicking almost imperceptibly to my hair and attire. ‘You go to Africa alone?’, they ask, ‘are you not afraid?’ or ‘is it not dangerous for a woman like yourself?’. I’ll tell you a secret, deep down (or not so deep down at all actually), I love these discussions. Rather than getting upset, it’s a way to challenge preconceived ideas and stereotypes. Being a wildlife and conservation photographer is one thing - often people ask us if we’re always on holiday, maybe on a gap year, ‘but what is it that you actually do?’ but being a woman in the industry is another. There are some absolutely wonderful women out there, fantastic story-tellers, passionate about the natural world and hopefully inspiring generations of young girls to come. Despite this though, it is still very much an industry that is male dominated - which also sadly means that rivalry amongst women is not uncommon to encounter.
Truth be told, I don’t know if it’s because most women aren’t aware of how possible it is to safely travel to remote places, or nervous of it, or if it’s simply because the profession doesn’t appeal to many as a whole with the commitments it requires. If one were to google “wildlife photographers” out of pure curiosity, one would find a list of some of the greatest. The first woman to appear, Ami Vitale, is listed 12th, and then next is 27th. Jonathan Scott is featured, not his wife Angela (Wildlife Photographer of the Year, no less), despite them always having operated as one of the most respected and adored duo in the industry. Perhaps it is a direct heritage of prestigious nature organisations in the likes of the National Geographic Society, traditionally founded and led by men (as with most conservation-related organisations that have historically excluded women).
I must confess, the above search is by no means a rigorous research method validated by top academics. It does however reflect how the typical wildlife photographer is perceived in mainstream media or society’s imaginaries. Representation matters because visual creators are hugely responsible in the driving perception of a wider public. In an eminently male-dominated industry, the perspective can thus appear to be quite linear, particularly when it involves the education and telling of conservation narratives (Whiteley and Calof, 2019).
Interestingly, the majority of female nature photographers appear to be doing more than shooting pretty things for the sake of it - the involvement in conservation or journalism of Ami Vitale, Suzi Eszterhas, Cristina Mittermeier and the long list of wonderful, talented yet silent women, is impossible to dissociate from their photographic work. Perhaps it’s our way to stand out whilst contributing to a cause that inspires us in the first place. Which takes me to my next point.
Now has never been a better time to be a woman hoping to grow as a a wildlife and nature photographer. Between Sony’s recent announce of their search for female only ambassadors, booming initiatives directed to women - especially young women - in the hopes to kickstart their adventures and careers as photographers such as “Girls Who Click”, we can only hope the stereotypical wildlife photographer will change. As lack of diversity becomes more and more unforgiving, it is probably safe to say that the number of ‘girls who click’ will be on the rise - but not just because of grants and industries’ fear of cancel culture. I firmly believe in talent and merit. Failure, rejection, not being taken seriously is never pleasant, but it will happen again and again. These stages of life are just as important as the successes, for they are very much what separate passionate and determined individuals from others, regardless of gender. At the end of the day, we may have to prove ourselves more as women, perhaps following centuries of having integrated masculine superiority, nonetheless the true battle is with ourselves as we reassert the confidence to keep going and growing.
More often than not, age can be a far greater handicap, both from budget and experience perspectives but equally because as beautiful as wildlife photography is (or any form of self-expression and creativity) it is also a highly competitive industry. Younger generations will of course, slowly make their mark, but in a field laden with egos, finding a mentor or friend willing to guide and support them is a blessing from the gods. Listening, learning, failing, humility and passion - all things that can never be taken from us, but that remain our greatest teachers.
The industry is only dominated by men because we let it be. In my experience, other photographers are either too focused on their own work to consider newcomers, or they’ll be curious and will engage in a conversation. This may perhaps be an unpopular opinion, but I am of those who believe no barrier is impossible to overcome. Some of us may have more than others, but nothing is more important than the determination to start from scratch. Who do you know, who can you contact, who can you introduce yourself to, how can high-worth individuals in the network you operate put a face on a name or a piece of art? Differences are a chalice, either silver or poisoned depending on what we do with them. There’s few women in an oversaturated industry? Great, you’ll stand out. How can the work you produce support a cause that will always need attention and funds?
That being said though, the conversation is sometimes not what we expect it to be and caution is handy. Whether it’s within wildlife photography, or other fields, women tend to generate a form of interest that may not always be what we’d hope - particularly in the case of eager young women with a desire to prove themselves. Too many times have I found myself at a dinner I had assumed would be with a potential client or collaborator, before realising, disillusioned and disheartened, that it was neither wildlife photography, storytelling, nor conservation that had piqued my interlocutor’s interest. And yet, because “you never know what might come out of it”, it happens again, and again, in the name of networking. So be wary of absurd situations, listen to your gut, and try to find balance between healthy ambition and absurd risk-taking. Use your skills to gain attention, not favours, because nothing is for free, even less so for women. Passion, drive and talent will show. It’s not about being a woman or a man or an elephant, but about being an artist who craves beauty; its forms, its expression and its effect on others.
Article References
C. T. Whiteley & L. Kalof. 2019. Women Behind the Shutter: Exploring the Place of Women in Elite Environmental Conservation Photographer Networks. Sociological Enquiry. Volume 90, Issue 1. Accessible at: https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/soin.12318