An institutionist works for both parties. Politics play no part in how an institutionist carries out his/her job. The institutionist is loyal to the constitution. That's the coded message filmmaker Dawn Porter conveys in "The Way I See It", a documentary about one man's courage to speak out.
Up is still up and down is still down in the solace of the woods. The filmmaker shoots the sky, obscured by treetops. The subject, Pete Souza, gets down on bended knee to shoot a lonely mushroom. Clouds and fungus are where they're supposed to be. This ordinary-seeming man, dressed modestly in a blue jacket, chosen for its practicality, and not out of any sense of fashion, once was the Chief White House photographer for Barack Obama, the 44th President of the United States. In a soft voice, Souza expresses relief about not having to carry around "a Blackberry, 24/7, for 365 days a year." His Blackberry habit ended when President Obama boarded Air Force One for the last time in 2017. You see pictures of Souza's work, and it's good work; his photographs narrate that day in mid-January, in which the outgoing leader of the free world took one last look at his former home from a bird's eye view outside the helicopter window. Pete Souza captured on film, for posterity, the peaceful transfer of power. In another picture, we see Obama's hand placed lightly on the back of the incoming president as they walk towards the black Cadillac limousine they'll be riding together in, en route to the inauguration, where the president elect will be sworn in.
Rewind to 1980.
Under the tutelage of Mary Anne Fackleman, the first female White House photographer, Pete Souza worked as an assistant shutterbug for the Reagan administration. Despite not being a fan of Ronald Reagan's ideology, Souza took the job, because history, not politics, was his higher calling. He pledged an allegiance to art. He was a nonpartisan photographer, an institutionist in his own right.
Souza got to know the former Hollywood star as a person. Sure, he took pictures of Reagan in his official trappings, the focal point of the West Wing, sitting behind the resolute desk in the Oval Office; and sure, there must have been times when he heard matters of domestic or foreign policy that wasn't in simpatico with his own belief system, but nobody asked for the shutterbug's opinion, nor did he offer one. Objectivity is the bedrock of photojournalism. Invisibility, a superpower; a fly on the wall that plays deaf. Pete Souza may not have liked Reagan as a politician, but without a doubt, he liked the politician as a man. More importantly, the politician liked him back. The best scene during this period in Souza's career is when he and Fackleman-Miner document the president and his wife, First Lady Nancy Reagan, acting like any married couple in love. The White House garden is the setting. While Fackleman-Miner operates the movie camera, her assistant, back when he had black hair and a moustache, shoots the president splashing the First Lady with a water hose. Reagan has an idea for a gag picture. President Reagan pretends to wield a chainsaw while Nancy fends him off from the tree designated for removal. It's a staged photograph, going against the grain of Souza's proclivity for natural, unguarded moments, but that's okay. The real subject is the couple's propensity for spontaneous fun, a dimension to Ronald and Nancy Reagan, the ultimate power couple, that the public was never privy to. The Reagans must have known that Pete Souza was no conservative. But they liked him anyway. That's because they had nonpartisan hearts, or rather, apolitical ones. When Ronald Reagan passed away, he was asked by his famous widow to join her in the airplane that carried the president's casket, and in the car, as part of a motorcade to the funeral and final resting place.
This actually happened in the not-so-distant past.
Kacey Musgraves, in her song "High Time", addresses how she needs to take a breather from technology, with this, now, pointed line: "I'm gonna turn off my phone, start catching up with the old me." But Pete Souza rocks a Brandi Carlile shirt. The caption reads: "By the Way I Forgive You", which is also the namesake of the singer-songwriter's last album. Out of necessity, Pete Souza returned to the limelight, trading in that antiquated Blackberry for an IPhone. As a freelance photographer, with no obligation to bipartisanship, Pete Souza found his voice. He went on social media and posted photographs of former President Barack Obama. Nothing new, really, this new hobby. As the sitting president, Souza's work was displayed on a different social media platform for all the world to see. This time, however, the photographs were editorialized with pointed captions that served as a counterpoint to the man currently occupying the seat behind the resolute desk.
Adapted from Souza's book "Shade: A Tale of Two Presidents", named such after a follower responded: "Pete Souza is dropping shade with a comment on drapes." Souza had written: "I like these drapes better than the new ones, don't you think? under a picture of the Oval Office, when the drapes were red, instead of gold. As a social media darling, hypothetically speaking, Souza rewrites Musgraves' line: "I'm gonna turn back on my phone, and start reinventing a new one." Naturally, his career as a photojournalist is over. But that's the price you pay for being brave.
For a man who, initially, didn't know the meaning of "throwing shade", Pete Souza is awfully good at it. Look at the song listing for the Brandi Carlile album, especially the last track. Even his t-shirt is throwing shade.
"Party of One".
Up is still up and down is still down in the solace of the woods. The filmmaker shoots the sky, obscured by treetops. The subject, Pete Souza, gets down on bended knee to shoot a lonely mushroom. Clouds and fungus are where they're supposed to be. This ordinary-seeming man, dressed modestly in a blue jacket, chosen for its practicality, and not out of any sense of fashion, once was the Chief White House photographer for Barack Obama, the 44th President of the United States. In a soft voice, Souza expresses relief about not having to carry around "a Blackberry, 24/7, for 365 days a year." His Blackberry habit ended when President Obama boarded Air Force One for the last time in 2017. You see pictures of Souza's work, and it's good work; his photographs narrate that day in mid-January, in which the outgoing leader of the free world took one last look at his former home from a bird's eye view outside the helicopter window. Pete Souza captured on film, for posterity, the peaceful transfer of power. In another picture, we see Obama's hand placed lightly on the back of the incoming president as they walk towards the black Cadillac limousine they'll be riding together in, en route to the inauguration, where the president elect will be sworn in.
Rewind to 1980.
Under the tutelage of Mary Anne Fackleman, the first female White House photographer, Pete Souza worked as an assistant shutterbug for the Reagan administration. Despite not being a fan of Ronald Reagan's ideology, Souza took the job, because history, not politics, was his higher calling. He pledged an allegiance to art. He was a nonpartisan photographer, an institutionist in his own right.
Souza got to know the former Hollywood star as a person. Sure, he took pictures of Reagan in his official trappings, the focal point of the West Wing, sitting behind the resolute desk in the Oval Office; and sure, there must have been times when he heard matters of domestic or foreign policy that wasn't in simpatico with his own belief system, but nobody asked for the shutterbug's opinion, nor did he offer one. Objectivity is the bedrock of photojournalism. Invisibility, a superpower; a fly on the wall that plays deaf. Pete Souza may not have liked Reagan as a politician, but without a doubt, he liked the politician as a man. More importantly, the politician liked him back. The best scene during this period in Souza's career is when he and Fackleman-Miner document the president and his wife, First Lady Nancy Reagan, acting like any married couple in love. The White House garden is the setting. While Fackleman-Miner operates the movie camera, her assistant, back when he had black hair and a moustache, shoots the president splashing the First Lady with a water hose. Reagan has an idea for a gag picture. President Reagan pretends to wield a chainsaw while Nancy fends him off from the tree designated for removal. It's a staged photograph, going against the grain of Souza's proclivity for natural, unguarded moments, but that's okay. The real subject is the couple's propensity for spontaneous fun, a dimension to Ronald and Nancy Reagan, the ultimate power couple, that the public was never privy to. The Reagans must have known that Pete Souza was no conservative. But they liked him anyway. That's because they had nonpartisan hearts, or rather, apolitical ones. When Ronald Reagan passed away, he was asked by his famous widow to join her in the airplane that carried the president's casket, and in the car, as part of a motorcade to the funeral and final resting place.
This actually happened in the not-so-distant past.
Kacey Musgraves, in her song "High Time", addresses how she needs to take a breather from technology, with this, now, pointed line: "I'm gonna turn off my phone, start catching up with the old me." But Pete Souza rocks a Brandi Carlile shirt. The caption reads: "By the Way I Forgive You", which is also the namesake of the singer-songwriter's last album. Out of necessity, Pete Souza returned to the limelight, trading in that antiquated Blackberry for an IPhone. As a freelance photographer, with no obligation to bipartisanship, Pete Souza found his voice. He went on social media and posted photographs of former President Barack Obama. Nothing new, really, this new hobby. As the sitting president, Souza's work was displayed on a different social media platform for all the world to see. This time, however, the photographs were editorialized with pointed captions that served as a counterpoint to the man currently occupying the seat behind the resolute desk.
Adapted from Souza's book "Shade: A Tale of Two Presidents", named such after a follower responded: "Pete Souza is dropping shade with a comment on drapes." Souza had written: "I like these drapes better than the new ones, don't you think? under a picture of the Oval Office, when the drapes were red, instead of gold. As a social media darling, hypothetically speaking, Souza rewrites Musgraves' line: "I'm gonna turn back on my phone, and start reinventing a new one." Naturally, his career as a photojournalist is over. But that's the price you pay for being brave.
For a man who, initially, didn't know the meaning of "throwing shade", Pete Souza is awfully good at it. Look at the song listing for the Brandi Carlile album, especially the last track. Even his t-shirt is throwing shade.
"Party of One".