2016Lay Back in the Arms of Someone (Sydney Australia July 2016)

Seated in the Street (Sydney Australia July 2016)

Reading on the Run (Sydney Australia July 2016)

Eyes Front Eyes Down (Sydney Australia June 2016)

There is Always Darkness Where There is Light

Dodgem Watcher Sydney Australia May 2016

Gossip with Gusto Sydney Australia May 2016

Passing in Dappled Light Sydney Australia May 2016

Family Portrait

https://paulspicturesstreetphotography.wordpress.com/

Not so Well Hidden in the Suburban Jungle: When Camouflage isn't Camouflage

Not So Well Hidden in the Suburban Jungle

(Armidale NSW Australia November 2015)

I'm not a fan of camouflage, of the literal or the metaphorical kind. If you need camouflage, then you are trying to hide, trying to disguise yourself. But, I make no judgement here: I mean we are all prone to hiding something from someone at times aren't we?

Anyway, yesterday I was walking on the street leading to the centre of the small town we're staying in right now. And, I spotted this car parked outside some shops. Not a common sight, you might agree: a camouflaged 4x4 in suburbia. So, I made a couple of photos because it's such an unusual sight. Also, I liked the contrast with the shopping trolleys against this strange looking vehicle.

I then moved in to have a closer look, being the curious character that I am. The guy in the photo saw me, so I said hello.

'I bet most people don't see you coming driving this thing?' says I, in my best ironic humorous tone.

'Yeah, 'specially out bush. I park her under a tree and nobody sees me,' he replied.

We laughed, wished each other a good day and I walked on. Hey wait, you might be asking, why didn't you find out some more of his story? Well, the truth is, the guy must want his privacy. And if you are going to drive a truck like that, well, what's there to tell?

Peace

The Rubik's Cube on a Beach Down Under

Rubix No Mystery for Local Surfer Boys (Sydney Australia May 2015)

No, your eyes do not deceive you. This is a giant Rubic's cube. On a beach. An Australian beach called Maroubra. Well, it's also the name of the suburb and right now we are staying about a kilometer from the beach. Maroubra is a word from the language of the Dharwahal Nation, the Indigenous people who lived in this area for many thousands of years prior to the European invasion and means place of thunder. A fitting name in a lot of ways: we've had some tremendous storms since we arrived here a couple of weeks ago. 

This over-sized Rubik's cube is something of a mystery (hence my title. Inspired huh?). The structure itself is the cover of a storm water drain. On a morning in 2009 locals taking their daily strolls noticed that overnight the plain concrete cube had acquired the look you see here. 

Of course it's been guessed that some time during the night preceding that fateful day, local artists made their way to this beautiful beach and did the deed. Naturally nobody has ever come forward to claim the work as their own; nor have investigations by the media and various other people, uncovered any clues.

So, it remains a mystery to this day. It is also a quirky addition to the beachscape and a colorful sight to behold. It also seems to be a favorite meeting point and even climbing apparatus if my observations today are anything to go by. Whoever painted it, the cube is an excellent example of how public art can improve what local governments like to call the amenity of a space. Color, humor, mystery. All in a what was once simply an unattractive block of concrete. 

Peace

Centuries Old Artistic Tradition Enriching the Streets of a 21st Century City

The Sun Shines Upon the Artist (Sydney Australia May 2015)

In the city of Sydney there is a train station (and ferry terminal) called Circular Quay. And in that station there is a platform with a view that just has to be the best view from a train station anywhere in the world. Well, I am sure it's up there anyway. Anyway, today, as I looked at the view, I saw a scene that really added that something extra and it was right below me on the quayside pavement.

Pepe Gaka is a pavement artist, or as they are called in Italy (Pepe is originally from Turin) madonarri. I had never heard this term until today when I read Pepe's signs. So, I looked it up on Wikipedia and here's what I learned:

The Italian Madonnari have been traced to the sixteenth century. They were itinerant artists, many of whom had been brought into the cities to work on the huge cathedrals. When the work was completed, they needed to find another way to make a living, and thus often would recreate the paintings from the church onto the pavement. Aware of festivals and holy days held in each province and town, they traveled to join in the festivities to make a living from observers who would throw coins if they approved of the artist's work. For centuries, many Madonnari were folk artists, reproducing simple images with crude materials such as tiles, coal, and chalk. Others, such as El Greco, would go on to become household names.

Interesting stuff don't you think? And to say that Pepe's work is absolutely stunning does little to convey its beauty and extraordinary technical quality. And this artist is not only talented, he spends his spare time volunteering as an art teacher, gives away completed works to charities and is, in the next couple of months, headed off on a world journey that will take a few years and see him travel around Australia and New Zealand, to several Asian countries, to Canada and the US, before heading for Europe. 

Pepe makes his living from donations from passersby who appreciate his work, just like all the madonnari before him. It's a fine tradition, and one that is alive and well on the streets of this modern and cosmopolitan city thanks to this fine artist.

You can find Pepe Gaka at the following places online:

Facebook

Instagram

Twitter

His own site

Or, if you're really lucky, you can find him most weekends at Circular Quay in Sydney. Either way, make sure you check him out; you won't regret it

PS: I'm hoping to post more photos, and perhaps a short video, I am planning on making from that train platform. So, stay tuned!

Peace 

Just another day on the street: A smile and a Chat about Changing Cities:

A Smile for the Camera (Sydney Australia May 2015)

It's no secret to anyone who spends time on the streets of any city, that cities are constantly changing, ever evolving beasts. I see it all the time of course, in both little and big things. Today I was shown another example; this time I guess it was a big thing.

The photograph above was made on the platform of a train station and, as you can see, the backdrop is pretty spectacular. In fact, the bridge is precisely the reason I was there! Anyway the man you see smiling here is doing so because he has just noticed me and my camera. He'd been pointing his mobile phone in the direction of the bridge and I was pointing my camera at him pointing his phone. You get the drift.

Me:     Great view isn't it? I shouted to him as I saw him notice me (but only after he shared this smile                       with me)

Him:   Yes it's beautiful

Me:     Well I actually got off the train to get some photos of the view and the bridge. Thanks for
            posing" for me.

We both laugh

Him:      I was taking a photo of a building down there (pointing to one of the two smaller
              buidlings in the middle of the frame)

Me:        Really?

Him:      I used to work there and now they're tearing it down

Me:       Why? (I was shocked because those buildings don't look that old.)

Him:      Redevelopment. They're buidling something much taller

Me:       Well I guess it's a prime location

Him:      It is yes. I just had to get a photo before it was gone.

With that his train pulled in and we waved a goodbye.

Cities change and evolve. Buildings get taller. Especially when there's a view like this one on offer.

PS
Here's the one I made as he made his photo and before he turned and saw me.

Unknowing Pose (Sydney Australia May 2015)

To the Streets of Sydney by Way of a Bus Ride to the Beach: There are No Accidents in Street Photography

Sideways Eyes (Sydney Australia February 2015)

I have had an aspiration for a long time now to photograph on the streets of Sydney, Australia's largest city. We've been in Sydney for about a week now and we're staying about 30 kilometers from the CBD in an area called the Northern Beaches. Until today, I've been spending a lot of time playing with the little dog we are caring for, gazing at the beautiful view to the sea out the front window of the house, and sorting out and catching up on postings to my site and other bits and pieces. But, today, I ended up on the streets of the city with my camera. But, to tell you the truth, it happened by accident (not that I really believe there is such a thing as an accident when it comes to my work-or in life for that matter). Anyway, here's how it came about that my long held aspiration has come to pass.

I thought I would go out and take the bus part way down the long peninsula that leads from north of the place we're staying in, past stunning beaches, through a dozen or more suburbs and on over the iconic Sydney Harbor Bridge into the city. My plan was to jump off and on at a couple of different beaches; I had no plan to head to the city today (being a bit tired and it being a long bus ride).

Anyway, I did get to get off the bus at a beach called Narrabeen. Perfect surfable waves rolling onto a wide expanse of pristine white sand that headed for a kilometer or more in both directions. Really your stereotypical world class Australian beach. And I loved it. But, after a quick walk it was back on the bus for the next segment of my mini adventure.

Not long after taking my seat I overheard a couple behind me talking about buying a van, fitting it out and heading around Australia. As this is a topic and project close to my own heart, I butted in and we were soon into a wide ranging chat about this couple's plans: before the van will happen they are headed to Europe via South East Asia and India for seven months.

Isn't it strange how one can bump into people along the way (or in this case on a bus) who just happen to be thinking things you are thinking, making plans you are making or have made, or who have or are about to go to places you've been or dream of going to yourself?

Anyway, to cut a long story short, the rest of the roughly 90 minute trip vanished in a flash, as did my plan to jump off and on at random beaches. Before we knew it, we were in the city center. So, after saying goodbye and wishing each other bon voyages, I found myself on the sidewalks of Sydney.

Well, I thought, I'm here now, so let's go for it. So, out came the camera and off I went. I walked around for a couple of hours only, and didn't make that many photographs, but still, it's a start. I've been outback for a few weeks and it does take time to get oneself back in the zone, back into the vibe of the street. But, boy oh boy, I did enjoy it.

So, accidentally (not that I believe ... oops, I've said that already) I ended up on the streets of the city I'd aspired to photograph in. Of course, it would have been only a matter of time before I ended up there on purpose, but I know it's not a second guessing kind of game, this street photography caper: it always happens as it's meant to happen.

And, today, it happened as it was meant to happen by way of a very pleasant conversation about mutually shared interest on a bus with two complete strangers.

As I say, there are no accidents.

Peace

One Day You Will Remember Me: Street Photography & the Truth on the Street

One Day You Will Remember Me (Melbourne Australia June 2014)

Allow me to introduce you to Elias. I met him on the street in Melbourne a few days ago. I'd spotted him out the corner of my eye, and as is my habit when encountering people who appear to be homeless, I smiled, waved and walked on by. But, before I got more than a meter or two past him, Elias called me back.

"Take my photo," he said as I approached him.

I replied that I don't usually photograph people who are homeless.

"I'm not homeless." was his answer.

I asked him why was he laying on the street in such weather (it was rainy and very cold).

"I have a place but I come out every day, trying to make people happy,"  he told me. "One day you will remember me and one day you will remember God through me." Then he told me again to photograph him, arranging his Star of David pendant just so, as he spoke.  So I made this photograph, showed it to him and he approved.

"That's a good one," he said and smiled his thanks.

Afterwards I asked him his name and he told me it is Elias. He also told me that he is a Jewish prince. When I said that I didn't know there were Jewish princes, he simply replied, with a smile on this face:

"Well, I am one."

He refused to take any money from me and just repeated that one day I would remember him and remember God through him. 

Is Elias really a Jewish prince? He told me he is, so he is. Will I remember him "one day"? Well he told me I will, so I will.  As a street and social documentary photographer, it is not my place to judge the things people tell me, or for that matter, the 'reality' they show me through the viewfinder of my camera. Life on the street, life itself, is what it is.  Sometimes the truth is plain to see, sometimes it's hidden beneath the surface or behind masks of various kinds.

 But, at the end of the day, on the street there is truth and really the best way to see and experience that truth is to remember that, while we may weigh up the facts of a situation, a story or whatever, there will always be truth hidden there whether the facts add up or not.

PICK OF THE WEEK: A Little Light Flirting

A Little Light Flirting (Perth Australia December 2013)

I've recently started reading a little about the French Humanist photographers. In a nutshell, after World War II, French photography began to focus on the "ordinary people" going about their daily lives. It was a way to celebrate humanity, to find a new view of the world after the horrors of the war. Of course, there is a bit more to it than that: for example there are several "categories" or types of images that are defined as being humanist photography as expressed at that time in France.

At this stage, I don't feel I know enough about that particular movement to write too much. But, for this week's Pick I have chosen an image which fits nicely into one of the "categories". While I can't for the moment remember the exact label used, the category includes images of young people courting (I think that this could be where the tradition of photographing people kissing in Paris began).

It is a joyous sight to see. Two young (or not so young of course) people courting or, as we like to say, flirting. These two are clearly attracted to each other and the image appears to suggest that they are going to be much more than friends before too much longer.

Of course, like any photograph, this one is open to interpretation; the "real" story could be totally different from the romantic one I have presented here. But, to me at least, it's pretty plain to see what is happening here.

Humanist photography focuses, obviously enough, on humanity. Humanity and the way we behave, the way we communicate and the stuff we do in our so-called ordinary lives. Well, as you know, I am famous for saying that there are no ordinary moments. Nor are there any ordinary people. In fact this photograph records what to me is a really rather special moment: that small space and time when two people find each other, when they both realize that the attraction is mutual, and when the possibilities, at least for that brief interval of time and in that space (which for the moment has become all their own) seem to be endless.

Peace

Meeting Scotty on a Sunday Morning Sidewalk

Let me introduce you to Scotty. I was out on the street early today, and so was he. Not too many other people about on a Sunday morning at just before nine. Not many with coins for the minstrel; not many passersby for me to photograph and share a moment with.

Scotty Singing on a Sunday Morning Sidewalk

(Armadale Western Australia February 2014)

Well, yes there were the Sunday morning "let's read the paper over breakfast" crowd in the cafes, but not too many people actually on the street. So, as I walked by, I shouted out to the guy singing and strumming on the sidewalk:

Me: You're an early bird. What's that expression?

Scotty: It's the early bird catches the worm.

Me: That's right. Have you caught any yet?

By this time I was standing next to him and we kept on chatting.

Scotty: Well not really, but you know I used to have a worm farm. I know how to do that! 

(this said with a laugh)

Me: Really? They're a great idea aren't they?

Scotty went on to explain how he kept a worm farm going through the hot summers and how he used the worms for fishing. Now, being a vegetarian, I can't help but go "Oh" at this kind of thing.

"Well, you know, I used to feel pretty sad about them myself sometimes," Scotty said, clearly picking up on my vege face.

"But those worms helped me feed my family," he added. We agreed that we all have to do what we have to do and sometimes it's not always how we'd like it.

We talked for quite a while. I learned a little more about him. He joined the navy at 17 and "saw quite a bit of the world". Now, he's a man of the road, a nomad. A lot like me you could say.

"I'm a free man," he told me. He went on to explain that his busking allowed him to eat well and he move freely wherever and whenever he likes.

"I put my tent and a few spare clothes in my pack, grab some food and water, and I'm right for a few days at the beach. I just pitch the tent in the sand dunes." Scotty has seen a lot of Australia in this way. And while he's at it, he's bringing a lot of joy to people in the street with his fine voice and guitar playing.

We chatted on about photography (the pros and cons of digital vs film, photoshop vs a traditional darkroom for working on photos), the various places around the world we'd both visited, and a lot of other stuff too. As you do on an early Sunday morning sidewalk.

Then I asked Scotty if he'd mind me making a photo of him. He didn't mind and, while I focused on making the photographs, he played an instrumental. Very groovy indeed! I thanked him, we shook hands and said our goodbyes. He started up a new tune and I turned my camera towards the now more numerous passersby.

PS I gave Scotty my card and he told me he uses the internet in the library sometimes. I told him to look me up sometime. I hope he does.  If you see this Scotty, I hope you like it mate!

The Moment is only 1/500th of a second

The great street photographer and gifted teacher and mentor, John Free, has several videos that can be watched online. One of them is called 1/500 of a Second. In it he contends that as photographers, and as artists seeking to capture fleeting moments on the street, we really only have 1/500th of a second to do it in. This refers to the speed the shutter of the camera opens and closes in. Not long is it? And that's what he says. I've watched this video several times now and each time it makes more and more sense: I have seen for example in one image I took, a young woman who looks on the verge of tears judging by the way she's holding her mouth. But in actual fact she was laughing and chatting with a friend as they walked. I just caught her in that 1/500th of a second.

The way I use my camera is that I tell it what aperture to use. This means I determine the size of the hole through which light passes to the sensor in the camera. The camera then sets a shutter speed which will give the best (in its opinion) results. After watching Mr Free's video again today I thought I would look at some of my recent photographs and find one that had a shutter speed of 1/500th of a second. What I did was pick one pretty much at random out of three candidates. And you can see that above.

Who is it? What's it a photo of? I hear your questions. Well, this image represents, among so many other things, 1/500th of a second of this young man's life. Not a long time, you might be thinking, in the big scheme that is a single human lifespan. So, we see a young man, caught in a flash of a second. What else is there in this photo to give us a clue to those other who, what, where, when, why and how questions. There is a wire fence through which he is looking; there is a set of hands behind him clutching the wire fence. Then there seem to be blurred figures behind him in the background.

We can look at his clothes, his reversed baseball cap. That could give us a clue. Maybe. We see the word "Original" on the cap. Another clue? Perhaps. We see a metal ring piercing his lip. Now we're getting somewhere! Well maybe, maybe not.

And this is where I must offer an apology. I am sorry, but I can't tell you anything about this photograph. Well it's not so much that I can't; it's more that I won't. You see, I am a street photographer, an artist at large you might say. My job is to capture that "decisive moment" as the master Cartier-Bresson described it. Or the 1/500th of a second as the great John Free has labelled it. Something in the moment before I aimed the camera, then pressed the shutter, made me do it. I can't say what it is. Call it intuition, call it instinct. Or you could even call it an artist's sensibility to the environment and situation.

You see, it is you, the viewer of this image who has to answer the questions. But, you reply, how could we possibly know? We weren't there were we? That's true: I was there, you were not. The gift that street photographers give to the world is this: we offer you fragments of time, decisive moments, fractions of seconds, tiny tiny slices of lives as they are lived in all their day to day ordinariness and banality. We also offer you, sometimes at least, dramatic slices of life, humorous fragments, sad fractions. That's what we do as artists: we communicate our vision of the world in our own medium at a given moment. For me, it is that 1/500th of a second.

I invite your stories of what this image is telling us. This is not a trivial "guessing game" or quiz; this is an exercise in bringing into life stories. It doesn't matter really what the 'facts' are; the key thing is what truth can be told through art, through this particular 1/500th of a second.

Peace to you all.

Come on People, Get in the Groove ... Please

All the world over, so easy to see
People everywhere just wanna be free
Listen, please listen, that's the way it should be
Peace in the valley, people got to be free
You should see, what a lovely, lovely world this would be
If everyone learned to live together
It seems to me such an easy, easy thing this would be
Why can't you and me learn to love one another
All the world over, so easy to see
People everywhere just wanna be free
I can't understand it, so simple to me
People everywhere just got to be free
Ah, ah, yeah . . . ah, ah, yeah

My deepest gratitude to the Young Rascals for this terrific song

Looks like we're in for nasty weather (with thanks to Credence Clearwater Revival)

As you cross that bridge that spans this day and the ones to come, be sure to keep your eye on the eye of the storm.