+ By Vicki Meade + Photos by Glenn A. Miller
Fresh out of high school, while walking his dog near Spa Creek, Glenn A. Miller spotted police, felt the tension, asked what’s up, and ran home for his Canon T90. The next day, when his shots of a drowning scene hit The Capital newspaper’s front page, his future clicked into place.
Nearly 40 years later, he’s the local go-to photographer for events: concerts, sports, parades, weddings, fundraisers, speeches, car shows, ceremonies. “I fell into it,” says Miller. “In high school, I wanted to be a photojournalist, but people started hiring me for events. So, no matter what I’m shooting, I try to tell a story.”
Miller became hooked on camera work when he took a photography class at Annapolis High School. “I loved it, absolutely loved it,” he says. After graduation, he enrolled in a communications program at Anne Arundel Community College but soon chafed. “There were required classes I didn’t want to take. Like math.” He left school and jumped into his life.
Today, photography is what Miller calls his side gig. Primarily, he earns his living by working for a real estate firm in Annapolis. Before that, he was a driver for limousine companies, providing airport transfers and chauffeuring events. All along the way, he’s taken pictures, some for pay and some for love, and accumulated a hefty portfolio of images.
A scroll through his 228 pages on Flickr will immerse one in movement, color, joy, sweat, and surprise. Sounds and smells pop from the still photos: a red-leather-clad singer flings her blonde hair while belting out a tune; exhaust pours from a speeding yellow car; a women’s crew team swishes along the chilly Potomac River.
One of Miller’s favorite assignments is photographing the graduation ceremony at the US Naval Academy, especially the end, when 1,000 newly commissioned officers toss their hats high in the air. He’s captured great shots of the Blue Angels and the Herndon climb, when USNA plebes scale a greased obelisk. “There are no do-overs for events like that,” he says. “If you missed the moment, you missed the moment.”
Miller also loves photographing musicians at venues such as Rams Head On Stage in Annapolis and 9:30 Club in Washington, DC, and gets to see his favorite groups that way. “I’m in front of the stage, in the pit if there is one, no flash, maneuvering to avoid blocking people behind me,” he says. “You’re allowed three songs, that’s it, and then you get out.” His absolute passion is cars—vintage cars, race cars, luxury cars. For MPACT, a motorsports festival, he shoots cars speeding on racetracks and others showcased in displays—BMWs, Porsches, Lamborghinis, eye-catching and as shiny as M&M’s.
When he photographs weddings, usually as part of a team, Miller must deliver on the prescribed shot list, but he’s always looking for a different angle. “I want to get that wow shot, that one amazing picture.” Weeks later, when he hands over the final album, he feels great if the bride and groom tell him, “We’re reliving the entire day!”
A garrulous extrovert, Miller stops cold when asked to define his technique. His eyes fix upward, his mind searches. Finally, he says, “It’s hard to take something that’s visual and intuitive and put it into words.” He knows he has a distinctive style but can’t describe it.
John Frenaye, a publisher who relies on Miller to cover sports and festivals for the online news source Eye On Annapolis, says his photos have a signature look that stands out. “Say he’s shooting a boxing championship. He gets the action and detail—the wrinkled skin, the fist landing into a face.” Frenaye points out that Miller has an unusual knack of knowing where things are going to happen, being in the right place, and getting the right angles.
“I guess my style is to try to have fun,” says Miller. “I go with the flow.” He seeks casual shots, nothing stiff or stilted. And he’s determined to capture a range of images, the necessary and the unusual. “I like to be in the moment,” he says. “And I’m always moving around, always looking, watching faces, trying to find stuff other people are missing.” Constantly being aware of his surroundings is critical; it’s a skill he’s sharpened over the years. “Head on a swivel,” he says.
Listening to Miller talk, it’s easy to imagine his six-foot-three frame on tiptoe, then squatting, racing upstairs, running right and left, adrenaline pumping. His is not an art of deep contemplation or soul-searching, no controlled arrangement of shapes and hues on canvas. His tools: two digital cameras—a Nikon D4S and a Nikon D750—one with a long 70-200 F 2.8 lens, the other with a wide-angle 17-35 F4 or a 24-120 F4, and a new Nikon Z6II mirrorless camera. So he’s always ready to switch gears. At football games, he occasionally uses a monopod to support the heavy lens but never a tripod. He relies on natural light whenever possible; otherwise he uses flashes. “I know how to manipulate the light,” he explains. “I have a way I can use my flashes when needed, but I don’t have the luxury to put up extra lights.”
Camera settings are second nature to Miller—aperture, shutter speed, ISO for brightness—but if his settings are off, he just keeps shooting. “At concerts, the lighting is always changing, so there is no right setting,” he says. He doesn’t go for filters or special effects, and avoids trends. Mostly, he shoots in color but may use black and white in low light or for dramatic effect. Cropping is about as far as he goes in terms of manipulating images after a shoot, and he sifts through his output, discarding weaker shots and keeping maybe 20 or 30 out of 300.
Miller has never exhibited his work in a gallery and doesn’t even think of himself as an artist. But Frenaye disagrees. “What Glenn does is absolutely an art. It’s so much more than taking a picture,” he says. “You’ve got to know how to spot the opportunity, frame the story, capture the shot—with quality. That’s what he does.”
For more information, visit
flickr.com/photos/glennamillerphoto.
