Sampson Nanton
Deputy Managing Editor
sampson.nanton@cnc3.co.tt
For Timothy Chasteau, the first lesson of television news was that there was always more to see.
When he walked into CNC3 in 2007, the newsroom already seemed larger than life. The people he had watched on television from his home were suddenly his colleagues, and the stories he had seen from a distance were now unfolding directly in front of his camera.
Nineteen years later, he has witnessed a country in transition through the viewfinder of a television camera.
He has captured elections, protests, disasters, celebrations, human-interest stories and some of the most difficult moments in the lives of ordinary people.
He has watched technology transform the way news is gathered, from VHS and MiniDV tapes to memory cards and smartphones.
But through all the changes, one thing has remained constant: the responsibility to see the story and bring it to the public.
“I have seen the transition from analog to digital in my lifetime. In a short space of 19 years. Now you go out with a phone and the quality, the dynamic range, the colours, the ease with which you could capture anything is unheard of.”
The newsroom that seemed larger than life
Chasteau’s journey to CNC3 began after he had learned camera work through his church’s camera ministry.
A recommendation from fellow cameraman Neil Romain, who had noticed his work ethic, eventually brought him through the doors of the station.
What he found was a newsroom populated by journalists and broadcasters he had previously known only through television.
“It is intimidating seeing people that you look at and only know through television....people like you Sampson. A lot of greats back in the time. But walking into the newsroom and seeing these personalities, it kind of was larger than life at the point in time.”
For the young cameraman, the newsroom became a classroom.
He absorbed not only the technical aspects of television but the discipline behind professional journalism – the checking, verification, persistence and determination required to get a story right.
“The attitudes of the colleagues that I had, the mannerisms, the way they conduct themselves, the way they acquire the content, the fact-checking, the verifying, the persistence, the adamant attitude that they had was a lot for me to absorb at the time.
“But I think that was what I needed to groom myself.”
Learning to see beyond the obvious
As his experience grew, Chasteau discovered that being a good cameraman was about far more than pointing a lens at the obvious action.
In the middle of a chaotic scene, the camera operator has to establish what is happening while remaining alert to the smaller moments that can tell a bigger story.
“Nothing could beat experience. No matter what.
“Just get an establishing shot. Just give the viewer a perspective where they could see exactly what is happening. Forget the creativity. Forget the angles.”
With time, however, the creativity and instinct become part of the process.
“You would begin to see things that other people would normally see. Whether it be in the back of the fracas, a child sitting on a bucket crying.
These little elements, you kind of can’t ignore it. You become hyper aware during the process of getting an establishing shot.”
Stories that stay with you
Some assignments have remained with Chasteau long after the cameras stopped rolling.
Among them was a human-interest story involving a single mother and her child, who had microcephaly.
Chasteau travelled into a rural community expecting a story about a family in need. Instead, the assignment became an experience that demonstrated the human responsibility that can accompany journalism.
“We knew after interviewing the mom that the child didn’t have a chance. But as a company, we still chose to help. Because he deserved and she deserved at least a voice. Even if it meant peace. For him and for her.”
The experience has become even more personal because Chasteau now lives in the same community.
Another human-interest story showed him just how quickly television could change someone’s circumstances.
A woman and her son were living in difficult conditions in Maraval, with little food and few prospects. After the story aired, the response was immediate.
“She got her job, her child got the health care he needed, and her life completely changed from one interview.”
When the story becomes dangerous
The work has also taken Chasteau into situations where simply getting the picture could be dangerous.
In his early years, violent protests could involve gunshots, stones and bloodshed. One late-night assignment sent him rushing from his mother’s home to Laventille.
“I remember getting a call about 10 o’clock in the night. I was in the back washing clothes, soaked. I remember throwing on my jeans over my wet boxers and a jersey and a slipper.
“Travelling to the office, grabbing a camera. No microphone, because the cameras had natural sound microphones on them, just to lighten the load and be more efficient.”
He arrived to find the violence unfolding before him.
“That was the best footage you could get. That was the part of our country that people didn’t get to see. It was an opportunity for us to put it to you.
“This is what we do, this is what is happening.”
The technology changed but the responsibility didn’t
Chasteau’s 19 years at CNC3 have coincided with a remarkable transformation in television news technology.
He has worked through the transition from VHS to MiniDV, SD cards and microSD cards, and now smartphones capable of producing broadcast-quality images.
The tools have become smaller, faster and more powerful.
But he believes the technology cannot replace the professional judgement behind the story.
“We fact-check. We have a legal team that we consult with. We have voices that we listen to. We do our due diligence to the persons that we serve.
“And that is not something that you could replicate.”
The images you never forget
Not every story can be remembered fondly.
One of the earliest assignments that remains with Chasteau was a horrific accident at the former Mount Hope interchange.
He arrived to find injured and dead people.
“I remember reaching there and almost fighting to stay conscious. Like you literally felt to pass out to see limbs and body parts missing.
“It was horrific. And although we don’t show it on TV because it’s just insensitive and distasteful, I remember you still present covering these things.”
It is part of the less visible reality of television journalism: the camera may capture the event, but the person behind it must also process what he is witnessing.
Lessons for the next generation
After nearly two decades behind the camera, Chasteau’s advice to those entering journalism is straightforward.
Respect the craft. Listen to those who came before. And understand that criticism can be part of becoming better.
“Media is a passionate career. It will test every fibre of your being. It will test your mettle.
“Respect your mentors. Honour those who are there before you. And absorb as much constructive criticism as you can.”
