It’s the street. The street exists also outside the frame of the shot and existed before the shutter was pushed and will continue afterwards and even now, at this moment. You’re never going to be able to see everything that’s going on there, so don’t try. Yeah I know it’s all very transcendental and stuff. Don’t let it mess your head around too much, though. . .
[As always, click the image to get a somewhat larger view.]
I’m a big believer that sometimes the best photos are of people just going about their lives in their natural environment. For me, a lot of it is about being open to something I might not expect, and just like a collaboration between people, there are sometimes happy accidents and things you never could have planned for, though you can be ready. When its working, its not just about people or about a location, but also about how people belong in that particular place. Or sometimes how they don’t. Maybe also about how the place would be different if those people weren’t in it.
For instance, is the shot above about the motor scooters or it about the guy standing, having a cigarette and watching me take the picture? Or is it possibly even about the woman’s hand bag that is just about to leave the frame on the left side of the shot, the fact that a city is full of people moving about while others pause for a bit and look around?
After I took the shot above, thinking the scooters looked sort of cool, I noticed the guy. I walked over and asked him to pose, said he had an interesting look. He was fine with it, and I told him don’t worry, its just a hobby, no danger of fame or anything. Something about is face not classically beautiful – I think he’d agree – but it is unique and it is entirely his. I wonder if other people with cameras have come up to him like that before.
Again, some would say it’s no longer street photography once he knows the camera is here – he’s changing his face and posture because the picture is happening so its not real anymore. And maybe that is true, I’m no longer recording what is there but becoming a part of it . . . but then again, I AM on the street also and so is my camera. That is also reality. The reality that includes the street also includes the photographer taking a picture of the street.
Ideally, street photography should mean never having to apologize for taking a picture, and I rarely do. Okay, you’re in the picture but the picture is not about you, at least not entirely. It’s not the same as portraiture because here the person is an element in a larger composition. Yes, usually the most interesting element, sure, but it’s not at all the main thing or the only thing.
I know people who are purists about street photography – to me, it makes about as much sense as being a purist about jazz, but there are those people, too – and they will say things like that it must be in black and white, always black and white, and always with film never digital and always with a rangefinder camera and only with this or that particular kind of lens and none other. And keep that effing Photoshop away from here. If that’s how Henri Cartier Bresson did it, that’s how its done, dammlt .
Well, I’m just glad there’s not a whole lot of people like that around. I like black and white, but I also like color, and I’m just showing black and white right now because that’s what I feel like today.
Clue: It’s about the picture, not how you got it. The street has its own aesthetic. Find it. By whatever means necessary.
Generally my MO is just like what I described here. I take a picture first then ask permission later, if necessary. If I have to, I’ll happily offer an insincere apology after the fact for violating someone’s nonexistent and purely imaginary idea of privacy – privacy, you say, in a public place? with half a dozen or more cctv cams scattered about that don’t even care whether you look good or not? with everyone on the street equipped with cameras on the phones in their pockets?
Far better to smile good-naturedly, and maybe even delete a shot if someone gets irate than have to deal with the regret of having missed that golden little moment that probably no one but you knew was about to happen, and no one likely would ever have gotten a chance to see it, except that you were ready and you took the shot.
My first rule is to be unobtrusive but not surreptitious. I never hide the fact that I’m taking a picture, at least I don’t think so – a lot of street photographers will give tips on how to do that, like “shooting from the hip,” or walking around with just the lens sticking out of your jacket. Which seems rather juvenile to me, like a kid pretending to be a Secret Agent.
Well, I’m not a spy and I’m not doing anything wrong. I know what my intentions are and nothing harmful lurks among them. I usually consider that if I find I am feeling guilty when I’m lining up a shot, if I think I might possibly be intruding, then I probably am. I don’t take a picture intending to make a person look bad, or to ridicule, or make people feel ashamed or uncomfortable.
My number two rule is easy to remember: Don’t be a dick. And I’m not. If people notice my camera and clearly don’t like it, I stop.
(Usually. There was that one time. That woman deserved it, though.)
I know some people have strong opinions about taking pictures of people when they are not aware that a camera is pointed at them. Can’t get around the fact, though: some of the best pictures are the ones that would never happen if you stopped to ask permission first. I forget who said it but sometimes the kindest thing you can do is to get the best picture you can as quickly as possible so people can get on with what they are doing without interruption or distraction.
The woman here didn’t know I was taking her picture. If she had known, it wouldn’t have worked, or not nearly as well. If she happens to see this, I hope she likes it. If she doesn’t, and if she asks, I’ll take it down. I do think it’s good picture, though – not perfect, no, but good – and I’d take a try at explaining why I think so, if we talked about it.
It boils down to: When I’m pushing the shutter release, is there something like love going on in my head, or something I like something else? That’s the third rule, and I don’t think I need any others – if I have the right answer to it, all the other questions are answered also.
(If you clicked the link I included above, you might have noticed that I wrote a whole lot of the same things two and a half years ago. Clearly, my opinions haven’t changed very much in that time, though I hope the photos have gotten better … and I still have yet to have had a single unpleasant experience from taking pictures in public.)
