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Photographer and nurse practitioner Sam Logan talks about the inspiration for his publication Old Chicago: Street Portraits of Older People, and reveals his on-the-job observations in the health care field.
Sam Logan is a longtime photographer and a nurse practitioner living on the west side of Lincoln Park in Chicago. The two-story condominium he lives in with his wife, Cathy, edges up against Bucktown and Wicker Park. He’s lived in several spots in the Windy City since moving there in 2018. What does he like about Chi-town?
“Oh, man. The environment is so stimulating,” says Sam, who moved to the big city from Champaign. “Block after block of unique buildings that have all sorts of stores, restaurants, bars, movie houses, sports teams. And then you have all the people.”
Ah, the people. Individuals are what the 36-year-old Sam captures in Old Chicago: Street Portraits of Older People, published in 2020. The photos within combine Sam’s dedication to street photography with the affinity he has for the elderly, starting from a young age. He reveres the city lights, the skyline, and the hustle and bustle of folks moving about with purpose on Chicago’s streets. But for Sam, Old Chicago showcases a slower-paced group of people that in his view also deserve attention.
You write at the start of Old Chicago how older individuals have heavily influenced your life starting at a young age. Tell me about that.
When I was at the day care age, my mom worked at a nursing home and they had a day care there. One of my earliest memories is waking up in the cold morning air, tucked under blankets in a child carrier, swinging back and forth, being carried by my mom into the nursing home day care. I don’t have any other memories of the day care, and the elderly who lived there didn’t take care of the children. But I can’t help but think that being in that environment influenced me and my relationship with older people.
Later, maybe at around 5 or 6 years old, I can remember going to work with Mom at the nursing home. Maybe I was still in the day care at that time, but I was older then. I remember walking in the halls where the residents lived. I remember the smell, the sounds, the quality of the light. I was too young to know that it was a “dirty” or “smelly” place with “scary” old people. It was just where my mom worked. And the residents were people she took care of. She was sweet and nice to them. So that’s how I was taught to treat them.
Later, maybe in first or second grade, my mom no longer worked there, but my dad was a pastor and we had an uncle who lived in that same nursing home. Dad and I would visit Uncle bill and bring him cigarettes. It was the same sensory experience, only this time a little more clear in my memory. To be honest, I started to feel a little uncomfortable with older people at this age. Uncle Bill was kind of scary. I couldn’t understand him when he talked; his voice was gruff, and his room was always dark.
During my school years, my grandparents often took care of me. I watched Wheel of Fortune, drew a lot, and had a lot of yummy snacks and meals. My grandparents weren’t mean or scary. They loved me so much, and I loved them. As I grew up, they got older and I watched them pass away. They may be gone, but the unconditional love they gave me will never be forgotten.
After high school I decided to go into nursing as a profession. Naturally, older people are a population that most medical staff take care of. I went back to the nursing home from my childhood and started to work with the older people. This experience taught me empathy. Many of the residents couldn’t communicate well, if at all, and I was tasked with getting them out of bed, into their chairs, into the common area. I helped entertain them, fed them, and reported on their medical status, all while showing them love and compassion. I had to think, “How would I feel if someone said or did or fed this to me?” I let that guide me.
What are some of the lessons you’ve learned in the health care profession?
I’ve come to understand a lot of lessons in my career. For instance, what it looks like you’re doing is just as important, sometimes more, than what you are actually doing.
Also, if you do your job poorly and with a bad attitude, people will never come back. If you do your job well with a bad attitude, they might come back. If you do your job poorly with a good attitude, they will likely come back. And if you do your job well with a good attitude, they will always come back.
Here are a few other nuggets I’ve discovered: Ask five doctors one question and you’ll get twelve different answers. Also, talk as if someone is always listening; often, someone is.
There is an interesting dichotomy in Old Chicago that conveys the perceived frailness of older people who are going about their day within the crowds and business of a big city. You even mention at the start of the book how these folks “brave the streets of Chicago.” What are your thoughts on these contrasting elements that some people who view the book might notice?
Yes, older people are often more frail than younger people. This is a fact of life. I think most people will think, “Wow, look at these older people out and about in Chicago. They are tough!” Or “I hope I am out and looking that good when I am her age.” There may be a few who catch that line and think, “Older people aren’t frail!” And to those people I would apologize and try to explain that my project is not meant to mock the older generation. Rather, a part of my goal was to shine a spotlight on these people, whom I value, and whom I think are special and should be cherished.
What is your favorite photo in the book and why?
For sure the woman standing, facing me, with her fingers interlaced. I was sitting at the fountain in Wicker Park, a fountain with seats all around it. I’m sitting there and there are three or four older ladies across from me, and she’s one of them. They are jabbering on about I don’t know what — I think it’s in Russian — and all of the sudden this lady pops up, takes off running around the fountain with one hand held high while looking at her girls and hollering. They clapped for her and gave her high fives as she ran by. I caught up with her and asked if I could take her photo, and she allowed me to.
“They clapped for her and gave her high fives as she ran by.”
– Sam Logan
How did you decide which photos made the cut for Old Chicago?
There are two parts to this. The first part happens on the street: Is someone “old.” I don’t have any specific criteria, but when I look a them, I know. Most times they have faded, gray, or white hair. Their skin is often wrinkly. And sometimes they walk or move around slower, different compared to younger people.
The second part of the decision happens back at home, when I review the photos. Is the photo in focus? Are they lined up with the background in a pleasing way? Did I catch their step when it is landing versus one leg in the air? Can I see their face? Because most times I want their face. And finally, is it interesting?
What do you feel now when you look at the photos in the book?
Overall, I have a positive reaction to the collection. If I were to sum it up, I would say it would be admiration. I look at the photos and think, “Wow, look at that outfit.” Or “Aw, man, he’s got a cane but look at him trudging down the street.” I love to see them out and about. I feel sad when I think about older people who can’t leave the house. It makes me happy to see older people out.
What is it about street photography that attracts and fascinates you?
I’ve asked myself the same thing. Before I was doing street photography, I would take photos of landscapes, buildings, well-known places. I would print them, sell them, and people gave me a lot of praise. Now, I take photos of people, mostly. I can’t really sell prints, and people don’t give me near as much praise for the photographs.
There’s a concept that floats around the photography world that some photographers take photos to impress other photographers versus taking photos that the general public likes. I think that’s what I do nowadays, too. Other photographers give me a lot of praise, but non-photographers are generally unimpressed.
I think I like street photography better than other types right now because I can do it nearly any time, any place, and under any condition. That is in contrast to a landscape, where for a particular shot you have to go to a certain location, in certain weather conditions, at a certain time of day. I can do street photography while I am walking to Marshalls with my wife or on my way home from work or on our way to the movies. With landscape, you can’t do that.
Street photography is also more exciting to me. When the street and the people come together in a flash moment and you capture it, and it’s beautiful, it’s a really exciting thing. I also do street photos because you don’t need a large camera setup to do it. No tripod, super-zoom lens, filters, or backpack. With street photos, I just have a small camera body with one single 50-milllimeter lens, and I can do my art.
I also make a lot of friends and acquaintances when shooting street photos. I see other people with cameras and I walk up, say hello, and often get into a conversation. I’ve even made some long-term friends out of situations like that. I don’t think that would happen as much if I were heading to one particular spot to photograph a building or a bridge at sunrise.
The final reason I do street photography is because I think it’s cool. Landscape feels like a guy in the early 2000s lugging a huge DSLR, taking the same old picture of the moon. Street photos feel romantic and modern. Walking the streets of a big city, observing, catching moments, meeting people with my single-camera body and trusty 50-millimeter lens — that’s where I’m at right now.