Photographers Gentl and Hyers Rely On Humor and Luck for the Best Travel Shots

In ‘How I Got This Shot,’ we talk to some of our favorite photographers about what it took to nail that perfect photograph—from the location and the equipment to the spur-of-the-moment decision required to get everything just right.

If you’re reading this now, there’s a good chance you’re already familiar with the work of Gentl and Hyers—whether you realize it or not. The photographer duo, made up of husband-and-wife team Andrea Gentl and Marty Hyers, have become a go-to in the editorial world since the ’90s, their work gracing the pages of many issues of Conde Nast Traveler and a litany of other titles. It’s no wonder: Somehow, the two always manage to capture the people and details of a destination with technical precision and an intimacy that few are able to emulate.

“We met in 1988, got married in 1990, and we started working together right after that,” says Hyers. “We’ve worked together so long that I can’t imagine doing it without her.” Unsurprisingly, the pair, who have been everywhere from Pushkar, India, to Gascony, France, to the Q’eros communities in Peru, have also mastered the art of finishing each other’s sentences along the way. We sat down with them, in a rare spare moment between assignments, to ask about a 2018 trip they took to Japan—and, more specifically, a favorite image they captured after a long day's shooting on the southern coast.

Set the scene for me: Where exactly are you and why are you there?

Andrea Gentl: We were on assignment for Traveler on the East Bay of the Ise-Shima Peninsula in Japan, shooting a hotel and the Ama divers of that area. The Ama divers are women, mostly in their 80s and 90s at this point, and they've been freediving pretty much their whole lives. They cook everything they catch over an open fire in these huts for guests. We had finished shooting them by the water and were heading to the car when we saw the hut and decided to peek in.

Marty Hyers: We were suddenly surrounded on all four sides by these Japanese men having lunch, the diver cooking her catch in the middle. Everyone immediately stared at us. I'm six foot three, and the room was not that big. Everyone was whispering. For a second, I wanted to back out of the room. But we were in it.

AG: The men started pointing at our twenty-year-old daughter Lula, who was assisting on that job. She had just gotten a nose ring. And they said, “Bull, bull.” Then one made a bullring gesture, and we realized why they were looking at us. She didn't think that was very funny, but we thought it was a little funny. We all laughed and it broke the ice, as humor does. After a while the men just went back to eating and forgot about us, and we became part of the landscape. Then we got these amazing pictures we wouldn't have gotten in the first 10 minutes.

Tell me more about becoming part of the landscape.

MH: It makes such a big difference when, say, you walk into a small market. The first time you walk in, everyone's very attuned to you being there, and they're prepared in a good or bad way. You get less authentic pictures. But on your fourth run later that day, or the next day, nobody notices you. Then you get the photos you want.

AG: Plus, you can use those first few visits to see what the light looks like in a place, while everyone gets comfortable with you being there.

You frequently photograph people. How do you typically approach subjects when you're in another country, with another culture?

MH: What we don’t do is take pictures in a clandestine way—we don’t shoot when they’re not looking or with a long lens, or snap a picture and run away. We always make a gesture, or ask verbally if we speak their language. There's some agreement that it's okay. Often we bring their friends over to stand next to us. We'll tell them to look at their friend and, of course, their friend will make them laugh, and then we'll turn the camera on the other friend. In a lot of cultures, the minute you start to take a portrait 50 people will come and stand around you. It’s an event involving the whole room. When the men in the photograph started laughing, we were able to get these great photos of them—and they became comfortable with us being there. Then we just had to hang around a little longer to get the more casual shots we wanted.

What is your dynamic in working as a duo? Do you divide and conquer?

MH: We're really two autonomous photographers shooting the same thing. If we see a guy on the street, Andrea might be shooting him and I might be running underneath. I might have my back to her shooting one direction, and she's shooting the other. It also takes a high level of production. Someone's driving, while someone else is checking the maps and producing the next location. There’s no shortage of work to be done.

AG: In this case, I think Marty might have been shooting what was cooking over the fire, or going around the room documenting the different guys, while I was in the middle of the room just shooting through everyone eating. But somehow, it all comes together in the end, and once the photos are imported we generally don’t know who took what picture. We’ll also notice things the other one didn’t even see in the moment.

How do you make sure to come home with that one perfect shot?

MH: Travel photography is 50 percent luck. It's a very lucky business, to, you know, get the right monk walking down the right road with the right sky and right dust. It was luck that we found this hut when we were there for another job and decided to walk in. But I will say that we both work really hard. We get up hours before the sun for the best light. We work into the evening, we don't go to the hotel pool, we hardly eat dinner. We are workaholics when we travel. It’s what we feel the photos require.

Any tips for aspiring travel photographers?

AG: Do your research before you go and be really open to experiences—just say yes to everything.

MH: Get up early, morning light is always the best, practice a lot, and always shoot the hardest person first. It’s about getting comfortable, and it’s a battle against yourself. The only person stopping you from asking someone to be photographed is you.