I'm no stranger to sweat. I work for many hours with perspiration reminders about the importance of hydration. I hate the feel of suntan lotion, so I wear UV-blocking clothing over my exposed skin during a race weekend.
I could be a little cooler in short sleeves and cut-off pants but having my eyes attacked with burning SPF 60 is just too much to deal with when every second counts. Seeing is paramount to my job, and a slippery ooze coating the grips of my cameras and slathering over the switches and buttons makes mistakes happen and causes opportunities to be missed.
So Nashville wasn't only hot but humid. Every moment spent outside felt like wearing a layer of water beneath my clothing. Again, sweating in August, I fully expect; swimming while walking was exhausting and gross. But it's my job, and I'm a professional, so I did the best job in the conditions presented as my clients deserve.
Cities transformed into racetracks present endless difficulties. I can't stress the immensity and the complexity of the task, not to mention the diversity of agendas from everyone involved. Imagine how often the need for safety could run counter to providing a fantastic fan experience.
Personal reflection: When my daughter was young, we played a game called Roller Coaster Tycoon. The object was to design and build a profitable amusement park that patrons would visit, enjoy, spend money in, have a good time, and spread the word to more people so the venue could grow and provide entertainment to more and more people.
There was a "happiness factor" that monitored the mood of the guests in the park. We learned that having bathrooms easily accessible at the exit of a roller coaster was very important; otherwise, the simulated riders would vomit in the gardens and on the park benches making our "happiness factor" plummet. It was a vital lesson about civil engineering.
Rain would douse the amusement park at random times, so shelter and umbrellas needed to be available. Guests could get lost going down pathways that were dead ends and get stuck in endless loops, all driving down the profit and ever-important "happiness factor." We learned that innovative ideas needed proper planning and follow-through.
Experiencing these nuances played out on a real-world scale during a temporary IndyCar street race in the middle of Nashville with its population of over a million makes you aware of how easily minor glitches can become dangerous pitfalls.
Back to the real world: Photographing every race means incorporating each venue's unique attributes, and there are plenty in downtown Nashville.
First is that multi-million dollar race cars are racing wheel to wheel on city streets. That's pretty awesome.
Next, the city's iconic elements need to shine as players in the event. The "Batman building," the Koren Veterans Memorial Bridge that the cars would drive across, the Cumberland River, Nissan Stadium, and the skyline all play an essential part in the event.
And equally as important is the race itself. The drama, the speed, the emotion, and the subtler nuances of lighting, framing, and artistry are all part of the event's uniqueness.
The real task is to uncover the fleeting magical moments and then capture them in whatever conditions are levied upon each photographer.
