In life and work, Nancy Borowick has always danced to the beat of her own drum. Her keen instincts to lead with her heart, allow herself to be vulnerable, and see the world through her subjects’ eyes, guide her passion for telling stories that resonate deeply with a universal audience.
After pursuing a themed major of anthropology, photography, modern languages, and art history as an undergraduate, Borowick enrolled in the one-year photojournalism and documentary program at the International Center of Photography (ICP). She had planned to photograph a family in the Bronx when her mother got sick. “I wanted to spend time with my mom, but I was in school, so I needed to be working on something,” she recalls. “I was still honing my skills as a photographer and a storyteller. I would come back to class each week and share my pictures, trying to get advice, then I kept going back and shooting.”
Her initial doubts about the ultimate value of such personal pictures were outweighed by devotion to a family bond. As the series progressed, it caught the attention of a classmate who was interning at Time magazine. She successfully pitched the story to Time’s Lightbox blog for Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and the audience response was immediate. “That was my first glimpse into the power that a personal story could have in a more general audience,” Borowick explains. “I realized that while this was our personal narrative, the themes were universal. The audience could really relate to different parts of the story—they could see themselves in me, they could see themselves in my parents—and that was really powerful.”
After completing her studies, and with her mother’s cancer in remission, Borowick launched herself into the New York photo industry, hustling for editorial work. Her ability to engage and connect with people, especially strangers, quickly became a solid business asset. She notes, “I was really finding my voice in the industry and making a small living, which was really exciting.”
Borowick describes her documentary approach as, “working towards a level of intimacy and trust with my subjects, so that I can become an invisible spectator.” Although this strategy remains consistent no matter the topic, she makes a key distinction between photographing the people she meets on assignment and making pictures of friends or loved ones. “When I used to photograph my parents at home, I often felt stuck because everything was just so familiar,” she points out. “With a stranger, it's a blank slate. You're learning everything, and you can dive right in. I feel very comfortable in these kinds of situations.”
Just as her professional career was on the rise, two devastating blows rocked Borowick’s family: a recurrence of her mother’s breast cancer and her father’s diagnosis of stage 4 pancreatic cancer. “That's when everything came to a quick halt,” she recalls. “My father actually said to my mother, ‘Do you think Nancy would photograph me and tell my story?’ As a freelancer I was available, and I just felt I needed to be there with them. So I started photographing.”
Borowick’s unflinching photographs of her parents, side-by-side at the hospital and caring for each other at home, were converted to black-and-white from original color files, an artistic decision she made at the outset. “I wanted the images to reflect how I was feeling, and how I was seeing,” she explains. “I also felt color took away from the continuity of the story, because of the different situations and extended time period.”
During this new facet of her documentation, she wore multiple hats—daughter, caregiver, and documentarian. Her photography instincts led her to share some pictures with a former ICP teacher who was also a photo editor. “I was hoping to get some feedback,” says Borowick, “because I felt, ‘What if I'm too close to my story, and I'm going to miss something important that I’ll later regret?’”
Rather than learning about holes in the narrative, she was encouraged to share the story in a more public way. Being fairly new to the industry, Borowick was hesitant to pitch such a personal piece to editors, “So I submitted it to a contest,” she says. Not only was the project selected as a prize winner, she soon heard from one of the judges, James Estrin of The New York Times Lens blog, asking to publish the story. “That's when everything changed,” she says.
This highly emotional family drama would go on to win many awards and worldwide acclaim before being published as the book, The Family Imprint, in 2017. “I never imagined I'd work on such an intimate and deeply personal project so early in my career,” she admits. “I thought I had to grow a lot as a photographer, as a storyteller, as a person—all of these things—before I could really dive into something so delicate and complicated. But when it's a personal project, it kind of chooses you when it wants, regardless of if you think you’re ready for it.”
Shortly after her book was published, Borowick put her New York photo career on hold, following the drumbeat of her heart to the American territory of Guam, in the North Pacific, where her husband had secured a job. With no projects planned or assignments on the horizon, she was eager and fearful in equal measure. “It was really scary to feel like I was closing a door,” she says. “But I knew that other doors would open. I had already seen that in my own career, and in the careers of many other people. And if you don't take a chance, you'll never get to try something different.”
As she settled into the tranquility of her island paradise, Borowick continued sending soft pitches to Western editors, with little success. To counter her growing sense of isolation, she began making whimsical iPhone videos during morning walks with her dog, Einstein, and posting them as Instagram stories. “It was therapeutic for me, and it was such a beautiful way to start the day,” she says of the content. “But what happened was, my morning was evening for all my former editors on the East coast. They would live through a day of chaotic news and the unknown, and then see these funny videos of my dog and my weird narration. I got messages from editors and other people, saying, ‘Thank you. This is the content I needed.’ And it brought me a lot of joy,” she adds.
Just as Borowick was growing accustomed to her new quiet life, the island of Guam was cast into the limelight due to heightened tensions between the United States and North Korea. “All of a sudden the world was like, ‘Where is Guam? What is Guam? Do we know anyone in Guam?’” she says with a chuckle. “I started getting calls from every editor I've ever known, whether I had worked with them or not. I was inundated, which was really exciting after nine months of radio silence. It was also terrifying, because there wasn't much to photograph.”
Within days, Borowick found herself working for The New York Times under an exclusive assignment of indefinite length. And, in a manner similar to how she had channeled an intimate family story into a cathartic message with global reach, she soon became the eyes and ears on the ground for other Western editors. Due to her exclusive arrangement with the Times, Borowick was unavailable for other photo assignments, yet she was able to serve as a fixer to media correspondents flown in from abroad. “To me it wasn't competition, it was, ‘How can we get as many important stories out there while people are paying attention to this place?’”
Adopting this highly principled reasoning in her assignment for the Times, Borowick also convinced her editors to work with local journalists, which added to her credibility in the local community. “Here I was with a very powerful megaphone, and I wanted to do right by the people of the Island,” she says.
One colleague she referred to CNN was South Korean photographer Jun Michael Park. It was he who first introduced her to the advantages of Sony gear. “We were both out shooting an event, and it was stifling hot and humid,” Borowick recalls. “I was lugging around a huge camera bag, and my back was killing me. I asked Jun where his camera was, and he showed me a small bag. Inside he had two Sony bodies, a couple of lenses, a mic, all these things. I was like, ‘Oh my gosh, tell me about your gear.’”
Soon after wrapping up her three-week Times assignment, Borowick invested in her first Sony camera, a Sony DSC-RX1R II. She made a full switch to Sony a year later, after returning to New York. “I noticed that I was using my little Sony mirrorless way more than my big DSLR,” she explains. “And I had to step back and ask myself, ‘What’s the gear I want to work with moving forward?’ And, for a whole host of reasons, it became very clear that Sony was my direction.”
In addition to matters of size and weight, Borowick finds that her Sony gear has greatly enhanced her workflow. “The dynamic range of these cameras is really pretty phenomenal,” she says. "At the moment, my two main bodies are the Sony a9 and Sony a9 II, and both allow me to work really well in low light, whether I'm at high ISOs or shooting wide open. The dynamic range is actually what wooed me to this gear in the first place.”
In tandem with her switch to Sony and her return to New York, Borowick has made a corresponding shift in her photographic focus. Inspired in part by her lighthearted iPhone videos of Einstein, her new photographs also pick up on a past theme she discovered while on assignment at the Westminster Dog Show. “I would shoot the dog show every year and meet these wonderful people,” she notes. “My curiosity would have me inviting myself to their homes and wanting to photograph what life looks like with a pack of dogs.”
Borowick’s newest series, “Part of the Pack,” often finds her rolling around on the ground with her subjects and getting covered in fur. “I allow myself to be sillier and less constrained,” she says. “I spent so much time photographing my personal life, and the complicated and beautiful tragedy of my parents’ illnesses. I realized that I needed to keep photographing, because that's how I process the world. But I also I realized I want to focus on photographing things that bring me joy.”
Borowick’s Take on Sony Lenses
Most Used Lens
Favorite Lens
Dream Lens
“Sony makes so many lenses, I don’t want for any other lenses. But if they could magically make the 35mm f/1.4 G lens the size and weight of the f/2.8, I’d be so into that, but I realize how unrealistic that is."
Do you have any advice for up-and-coming photographers?
“Early in my career, I felt like I needed to go other places to tell important stories. And mentors would say, ‘Photograph what's in your backyard. Photograph what you care about that's part of your life, or something you're really an expert on, like your own world.’ And I remember thinking, ‘Oh, my backyard is boring. I'm so used to my backyard. I want to photograph something different.’ Ultimately, I think the best stories come from when photographers challenge themselves and try to look at their world through a different lens.”
“One other piece of advice: wear really good footwear. I used to wear these flat Converse sneakers. They were super cool, and I now have back pain forever because of it. So, your gear extends to your feet. Don't be irresponsible, wear good supportive footwear, and you will be a better photographer for it.”