Diary: 2022 World Cup Photographer Ryu Voelkel

In the past 15 years, Berlin-based sports photographer Ryu Voelkel has covered three World Cups and some of Europe’s biggest top-tier soccer leagues—the Premier League, Bundesliga, Ligue 1 and Serie A—on top of working for global brands like Nike, Adidas, Puma and Uniqlo. Ryu also co-founded the sports photography podcast Big Lens Fast Shutter. 

In 2022, Ryu is back covering the most prestigious event in soccer, the World Cup in Qatar, one of the most controversial host nations in recent history. Photographers will know what really matters is off the pitch. To give you a view from the sidelines and a look behind the scenes, MPB asked Ryu Voelkel to keep a diary documenting the day-to-day of a World Cup photographer. Read on to learn more.

Wednesday, 16th November 2022

Having started my career shooting Shunsuke Nakamura, at Celtic in the Scottish Premiership, my career has taken me to many stadiums around the world.

Four years ago, on 15th July 2018, I saw a beer fly over a blue sky at the Josip Jelačić Square in Zagreb, Croatia. The crowd was celebrating an equaliser by Ivan Perišić. Instead of shooting the 2018 World Cup final at the Luzhniki stadium, I had gone to Zagreb because—if Croatia won—it would’ve been one of the biggest upsets in World Cup history. And I wanted to be there to capture it. Sometimes, things don’t go according to plan. But the soccer photography images I captured that day were as unique as they come.

This 2022 World Cup is as controversial as it can get. But my decision to cover it was simple. I had the urge to capture it through my own eyes and to tell my story in my next World Cup book, No Hands 3. Today, as I prepare for my 30-day trip, I am writing a World Cup diary for MPB. I hope to bring you to the weird and wonderful world of a freelance sports photographer covering the World Cup.

The question I get asked most is “How do you get to cover the World Cup?” The short answer: it’s not easy. First, you have to be invited by your soccer federation—and there are a limited number of spots available for each country—so you need to have covered the federation’s national team matches leading up to the World Cup. Being a freelancer makes this process even harder, as you need to finance all your trips and accommodation yourself. And you need to earn enough money too.

My decision to start the No Hands book series came partially from my need to finance my World Cup trip, as well as having complete freedom to create and curate my work. When you shoot for an agency or a media outlet, you’re limited in what you can do—so your best work might never see the light of day. After I came back from the 2010 World Cup, it was time for me to make my own platform. 

No Hands 3 will contain only black-and-white images. This was an idea I had right after No Hands 2 was published. Alongside on-pitch images, I needed a camera to shoot off-pitch. It also had to be light, inconspicuous and able to take good JPEGs. Enter the Fujifilm X100V. I chose the X100V (Read the Fujifilm X100V review) because it’s a fixed-lens camera. Knowing that the focal length will always be the same, I’m able to concentrate on framing and lighting the scene. 

On the pitch, I need maximum flexibility from my lenses. The mainstays for my Nikon Z9 are the 70-200mm f/2.8 VR S and 14-24mm f/2.8 S, as well as the 400mm f/2.8D IF-ED II—called yon ni pa in Japanese. I’m also borrowing the Nikon 24mm f/3.5D ED tilt-shift lens from MPB. When I shoot anything wide on the pitch, I will likely be using this lens for a surreal look.

I won’t mention how many kilos of rice I will bring, or which brand of shampoo will be best in the desert. By the time you read this, I might already be shooting at the air-conditioned stadium. 

Wednesday, 23rd November 2022

I’m now sitting in the media center at the venue of Germany vs. Japan. The buzz from last night’s match between Argentina and Saudi Arabia hasn’t left my mind. I still feel shell-shocked, but the matches keep on coming.

For this entry, I want to tell you more about the logistics of this World Cup. Aside from the fact that this one isn’t being held in the summer, it’s also in a single city. Previous tournaments were held in multiple cities, which meant more traveling and more time on the clock. For photographers, this routine would mean shooting a match, sleeping (or rather, not sleeping), traveling to the next city, shooting the next match, and so on and so forth until you don’t even know where you are anymore! 

In Qatar, each stadium and media centre is usually a 10–15-minute walk from the nearest metro station. While Al-Bayt and Al Thumama are a little further, the other six are easy to access. So, logistically, you can attend two matches per day.

When I was choosing the matches, it occurred to me that I could test the limit and go for 25 matches in two weeks. By the time you read this, I might feel differently, but so far my body and mind are still there. Although, I did pass out a few times during the match between Poland and Mexico. 

The downside of being able to attend two matches per day is that there are now so many photographers covering any given game. But, as teams are eliminated at the end of the group stage, more and more photographers—who are allocated to participating countries—are likely to drop out too. But, for now, it’s looking like a record number of photographers attending matches. 

Matches kick off at 13:00, 16:00, 19:00 and 22:00 local time. I’ve signed up for most of the 13:00 and 19:00 matches. Attempting to cover games that start at 22:00, followed by another the next day at 13:00, would leave you as a barely functioning zombie.

Next, the seat booking system. This has become a massive problem for photographers. Unlike most matches, World Cup seats are chosen prior to the match. For example, this match today: Germany vs Japan. Photographers attached to the Germany and Japan teams are offered the first pick of seats, and the other photographers are given whatever’s left over. In previous years, you’d have to queue in front of the photographer’s information desk at the stadium media center. But since the pandemic, things have gone digital. Depending on your priority, you are given a time slot. For instance, today I need to choose my position for Ghana vs Portugal and Switzerland v Cameroon. But the booking system opens during the Germany vs Japan game, which I’ll be in the middle of covering. It’s harder still when there are two games for which you need to book your places. It doesn’t look like there will be a fix. 

As a freelancer, I’m not staying in fancy hotels. You get the cheapest possible accommodation because that’s what you can afford. In the three previous World Cups, I couch-surfed and tried to get as much free accommodation as possible. But staying with local people has its advantages—your host is likely to tell you about things that a hotel concierge wouldn’t. In Brazil, for example, I even got to shoot a cup match in the middle of a favela.

This year, in Qatar, if I feel shooting this many matches will hurt the quality of my work, I will certainly cut down on a few. But, for now, I’m looking forward to shooting my two matches a day.

Tuesday, 29th November 2022

This unprecedented covering of two matches a day is showing no signs of slowing down. I have pretty much lost all track of days or weeks. I’m just keeping my eye on the prize, which is to shoot great images every day for my forthcoming book No Hands 3.

This politically-charged World Cup keeps chugging on and off the pitch, but my job remains simple: tell the story using the camera. So, I want to talk about the Nikon PC-E NIKKOR 24mm f/3.5D ED, which I borrowed from MPB. I used to own the tilt-shift lens, but I sold it because I felt like I had done enough with it. But then, for this World Cup, I felt a sudden urge to use it again—and MPB was happy to lend it to me. 

As you can see from the image above, for sports photography, using a tilt-shift only works if you have a plan in your head. Since it doesn’t have autofocus, you need to be very specific in terms of composition. Here, I was looking for two components. First, the subject—there had to be something happening that would catch your eye. Second, the light—the contrast between the shadows and the light had to be there, so I specifically sat on the sideline to make sure that was included. My friend asked me how long it took me to shoot it and I was surprised to hear that it took me the entire match. And since only one match during a single match day is during sunlit hours, you get a single 90-minute chance.

‘Searching for a beautiful moment’ has always been the concept for me. It doesn’t have to be a goal or a celebration. If you open my No Hands 3 book, I want you to be amazed. 

It shouldn’t matter whether it was taken in the final or an obscure group stage match, the photo has to stand on its own. That is what I always aim to do.

Speaking of the actual highlights of the match, you can guess that it’s mostly about luck. I have tried to predict the outcome of the match, thinking team A will likely score before team B, so I’ll pick a position where I will likely get the celebration. That’s all well and good, but this isn’t a studio shoot. You have zero control over what will happen during a match.

There’s a reason why major agencies bring so many photographers to a World Cup—it’s so they don’t miss anything. For example, a Japanese agency came with six photographers to the Germany vs Japan match. 

As I failed to clone myself before the World Cup, I need a plan and I need to execute it flawlessly. While it’s certainly been a challenge, it has been fun!

Monday, 5th December

From the onset, I thought it was going to be tough sledding. No one has ever accomplished anything of this magnitude involving a major soccer tournament. It is with the utmost regret that I have failed in delivering the record for attending and shooting all 25 matches in the group stage of a World Cup. 

The last match of this stage, there are two instances of two matches being played simultaneously: two at 18:00 and two at 22:00. I went to Ecuador vs Senegal at 18:00, knowing that the only media bus would leave 20 minutes after the match. I had to head straight to the exit to make it to Iran vs USA, which would start at 22:00. This means that you’d miss anything that happened in the last 15 minutes of the match. 

For example, the game between South Korea and Portugal. A photographer who was sitting two positions away from me left to go to the next match which started at 22:00. He wasn’t there when Hwang Hee-chan struck very late to send the stadium into a frenzy. So that was that. 

As the group stage came to a close, you might be wondering what will be included in No Hands 3. I’ve always wanted to have more images from the tribune, way high up in the stadium, instead of just from the pitch. But getting the right result is tricky. 

Since you are shooting from above, most images come out very boring. This is because you are shooting players who are moving in dimensions: up-down and left-right. But you can use the lines on the pitch—the center circle, penalty area—to create geometric patterns, which I find quite pleasing to the eye. The other way to make shots more interesting is to go all out on the camera sorcery—slow shutter speeds and multiple exposures, or even a combination of the two. Maybe I will try it on pitch level in the knockout stage. 

Next, slow shutter speed. With a base speed of 1/10, I tried to track and capture the players. A colleague of mine said, “it’s more difficult to do slow shutter from above, as there is a lot of up and down movement of the players as they run.” Slow shutter only works when you are tracking them at the same speed you are moving the camera, creating a blur around the in-focus subject. 

Feeling that this isn’t going well, I told myself “Whatever. I’ll just shoot 1 second.” So, with the shutter speed at 1 second and a blackout while the shutter was up, I soon realized it was going to be difficult to track where the players would be. Finally, realising what I got myself into, the solution was to concentrate on the set pieces. With corners and freekicks, players will only move in certain directions, which makes them easier to track. And this is how I ended up with the image.

With all your help, the No Hands 3 book project is now fully funded. I got an Instagram message from a follower who told me that they’d smashed it over the funding goal line. A big thank you to everyone who contributed to the funding. 

For the next diary, I would like to talk about the emotional highs and lows of the World Cup. South Korea v Portugal was a great example—and, as we go deeper into the tournament, the joys of victory and the horrors of defeat will be amplified. See you in a couple of days.

Thursday, 8th December

As I type this, Lionel Messi will be preparing himself to play against a suddenly formidable Netherlands team, with their most notable player, Virgil van Dijk, playing center half. It could be 35-year-old Messi’s last international match for Argentina, especially considering the team has so far struggled to live up to their pre-tournament label of favorites to win the World Cup. So, Argentina vs The Netherlands could be a big chance for me to capture a super-sad Messi.

From the round of 16 onwards, it’s win or go home. It’s what I always look forward to—all those sad faces. Nothing makes me happier than shooting the moment everything falls apart. The players have given it all for the match and when the final whistle is blown, their knees buckle and the weight of the loss sinks them onto the pitch. I find it puzzling why some photographers always prefer to shoot the winners—I see defeat as far more beautiful. At the end of the World Cup, while there will be only one winner, there will be 31 losers.

Most of these players earn a huge amount of money. So, in most cases, the defeat doesn’t hit the professional players quite as hard as you’d expect. Especially in comparison to amateur players, who earn nothing at all, and are giving their all for the sole purpose of winning. If you really want to capture pure defeat, go and shoot a match in the amateur leagues. Regardless, by the time the referee blows the final whistle, you have to be prepared to capture the who, the when and the how.

So, who should I photograph? First on the list is always the most famous person on the losing team. If Argentina is losing, I’ll wait for the final whistle with Lionel Messi alone in my viewfinder. If you can’t think of any famous names—and my soccer knowledge isn’t as vast as you might think—a good rule of thumb is to capture the captain. 

But, obviously, that person will have to do something. If they’re just standing there, without any facial or bodily reaction, you will have to scan the pitch to find someone who might be doing something. I never go for ‘the caption route’ to tell the story of my image. The picture has to show the hurt, not the words. If Messi is not showing it, then I need to move on to someone else.

When do I shoot it? At the final whistle. Never decide what the shoot the moment the match has been decided. You need a plan A and a plan B. Soccer players don’t usually sit still and do nothing for a prolonged period of time. If your plan A is not doing anything, move to your plan B—this could be the entire losing team—but, in the meantime, remember to keep tracking your plan A. It’s hard work, but timing is critical. 

Emotions run high the moment things are decided. After that, no matter how you dress it, it’s never going to be as impactful as that moment at the final whistle when players show their true feelings. The pain subsides with time. So, it’s important to know how the team are likely to celebrate or console one another. This is key to creating a good image.

And, finally, how do I shoot it? If the players are up in my face, and I can almost taste the salt in their tears, then great. I’ll use the widest lens possible and start shooting away. More likely than not, the sad party is happening in different places on the pitch. You mustn’t forget that you have to show emotion in your images. If your target is far away, use a longer lens. Or, you move your legs. Get to a position where you are likely to be able to get the best shot—but, at the same time, be aware of what is happening on the pitch. Perhaps the players will move towards their supporters. You must act decisively and be light on your feet when there are better moments to shoot. 

It’s important to remain unemotional. Once the job is done, you can feel whatever you want—but, in the moment, concentrate on whatever’s in front of you. Let’s see if I managed to get a great ‘sad Messi’.

Friday, 16th December

It’s now almost noon in my room, in which I have spent way too long recovering from the 22:00 kick-offs. The Egyptian neighbors screaming into their AirPods, the conversations with the Indonesians about their working conditions, the meowing cats wandering up to our floor in search of scraps, and the shower that always flooded the floor.

Usually, photographers aren’t happy about leaving the World Cup. But this time, we can’t wait to leave. I’ve had enough of what they have to offer here. I’m ready to leave this place behind for good.

This is my penultimate World Cup diary entry. When it comes to the number of matches I’ve shot, it has been the most intense World Cup ever. During the group stage, there were more matches per day—due to it being held during the winter, and in the middle of the European soccer season. This arrangement led to many photographers shooting two matches per day and subsequently overworking themselves to a point of exhaustion. 

Pretty much all of us photographers caught a cold. And the freezer-like air-conditioned temperatures inside buildings and vehicles didn’t help. The sound of coughing echoes through all the media buses I have taken to stadiums, giving me flashbacks of the pandemic. But, with only two matches left, people seem not to worry so much about it. Scary times.

Onto the final and third-place games. By the time you read this, I will know whether I’ve managed to get into the final. To be very honest, I doubt that I will be able to shoot the final. There are still quite a lot of photographers left here. Usually, most of the photographers leave after their country’s team is eliminated. But it seems like a lot of them have stuck around, particularly the ones from Europe. Distances to the World Cup actually make quite a difference to media attendance. I remember the reduced number of European photographers in South Africa and Brazil, but there were a lot more in Russia. In any case, you will know more about it in the last diary entry. But I did get into the third-place match. Having Morocco there will add a bit of spice to a match that has earned a reputation for being a little dull.

If you remember from my first entry, I borrowed a Fujifilm X100V from MPB. So, why haven’t you seen any of the photos? Don’t worry, I haven’t seen them either. It’s not a film camera, I could go through all the pictures now. But I thought it would be more fun to see them all when I get back home. I will share some of them with you in my entry, as well as my experience with the camera itself. Until then, may the best team win.

Monday, 19th December

Just before I start my last entry into my World Cup diary, I’d like to talk about my experience with the Fujifilm X100V, which I borrowed from MPB. I shot mostly from my hip, I just wanted to see how it turned out. Although I did enjoy using it, I feel this isn’t the camera for me. I am quite content with carrying my iPhone around for the occasional snap, and this camera is a massive upgrade over a smartphone. But, if I wasn’t going to shoot something specific—like I was during the World Cup—I won’t really need anything as good as the Fujifilm X100V.

I’m now sitting on my flight back home to Berlin. In five hours, I’ll be home. This was the World Cup with possibly the biggest fairytale ending in footballing history. As I closed the final chapter of this World Cup, here’s what was going through my head.

At first, I didn’t think I was going to get a position in the final. When I received the email to confirm my place, I was so shocked that I called my girlfriend and told her how excited I was—I’m sure she thought I’d finally lost it!

I ended up with a position I wasn’t too happy with. But since this is my fourth final—and the second one on the pitch—it still gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling that I was one of the lucky ones to shoot a match of this magnitude. Some of my colleagues—the ones who hadn’t received the invite to the final, didn’t care to listen to my ‘problem’. They could only pray they’d make it through the waiting list to join the 220 photographers on the pitch.

I took the subway to the main media center to borrow an 8-14mm fisheye lens from Nikon. At these major sporting events, the big brands are here to lend you any equipment you might need. Some photographers will rent out their entire setup—an approach I personally don’t agree with—but, in this case, Nikon was a godsend. I took the opportunity to get my camera checked and cleaned. And, while the engineers were at work, I printed out my ticket for the final.

On the bus to Lusail stadium, we received the photographer’s briefing. The logistics involved in the final is different from all the other matches, so we were told what to do and what not to do. I spotted some colleagues, we said our goodbyes. I only see most of them once every four years, during the World Cup. Eventually, I make it to the photographers’ room and I check to make sure I’ve got everything. Then off we go, to the closing ceremony. Yes, there is a closing ceremony. No, it’s never that exciting. And no, I don’t really understand why they even do it. Eventually, Argentina and France show up as they warm up. I decided that today is the day I will go into ‘the mosh pit’ and get a shot of both teams as they walk out. I do, but the photos aren’t great. 

The match gets underway, and the first four goals are scored on the opposite end. In 90 minutes of play, I’ve got nothing to show for it. My nerves begin to crack, I can feel panic setting in. Having shot more than 9,000 images during the final, how am I going to finish my book with zero pictures I can actually use? Then Messi scores Argentina’s third. For a moment, the fear of an offside crosses my mind—but he’s coming towards me, so who cares? It’s Messi and he’s celebrating the goal that must surely win the game for Argentina. Now I have something special. Moments later, Mbappé scores another equalizer for France. Now I have nothing again. Onto the penalty shootout. I pick a position where I can see Messi clearly, but I end up with another batch of photos that are less than ideal. 

Argentina wins, and I position myself for the ceremony. Messi kisses the World Cup. I’m sitting at an angle, and all I can see is that robe and Messi’s arm. Nothing, again. Messi relaxes with his family on the podium and the World Cup is getting passed along like the world’s most famous selfie prop. So many people are there, everyone is invited—except for us photographers. 

My colleagues and I had talked excessively about how it would be great to shoot that iconic shot of Maradona on his teammates’ shoulders, lifting the World Cup. I said it wouldn’t happen because I just knew it wouldn’t.

So I head towards the Argentina fans. At some point, the team will surely have to go there to celebrate. As I arrive, the fans start to sing and I look up. There is Messi on his teammates’ shoulders with the World Cup. Panic strikes like lightning as I look at the scene. Can I get into the crowd of 220 photographers? No, he’s already too far and I’m too short. My arms aren’t long enough to get a clear shot. I look around. Behind me, stairs up to the stands. I run up them, look through the viewfinder—and there it was.

It’s the Maradona Scene, Mark II. It’s in front of my face. I lock in on Messi’s face. He’s singing, the fans behind me are singing. I start firing. I started out with 24mm, and I tried 14mm. I’m not letting my finger leave the shutter release. The shutter count is mounting silently on the Z9. I don’t even notice. Messi seems to be there forever. Then he gets carried off in another direction. Less than two minutes of my life, yet the longest moment in my World Cup history.

I always tell people learning how to shoot sports to just get one shot you really like. That evening I shot more than 9,000 images. The only one I can proudly say was any good is the one above. The rest can be lost forever and I wouldn’t bat an eyelid. You have to live for that one moment when everything aligns and you, the photographer, have the control to create something truly unique.

MPB is proud to sponsor No Hands 3. Learn more at nohands3.com, where you can also join the book’s Kickstarter. www.girlpowerorg.com, a charity that supports women and girls in football around the world, will receive 50% of the proceeds from the book.

Stonewall is filling a virtual #ProudStadium with supporters of LGBTQ+ rights, coming together to shine a light on the injustices that LGBTQ+ communities face in Qatar.

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This article is part of the MPB Guide to Sports Photography, our comprehensive look at how to create sports photography, with camera recommendations, advice and interviews with experts.