Gossip with Gusto Sydney Australia May 2016

A Fresh Take on the Decisive Moment Revisited

Henri Cartier-Bresson is known (in addition to being the creator of some of the finest photographs ever made) for ‘inventing’ the concept of The Decisive Moment. Finding and 'capturing' the decisive moment is a kind of holy grail for many photographers, especially social documentary and street photographers.

When I read a friend's post on a famous quote by another photographer that has been misinterpreted or used to justify opposing points of view (well what's odd about that you might ask in our world of cut and paste and spin), I thought, I would have a more critical look at the Decisive Moment concept: where it actually came from, what it means and what I think about it all in relation to my own work.

First up, let's look at what Cartier-Bresson actually said. Well, after a very long and often interesting, surf of the net, I failed to find a single quote from the man himself that includes the words 'decisive moment'. Here, though is one quote that comes close:

‘I kept walking the streets, high-strung, and eager to snap scenes of convincing reality, but mainly I wanted to capture the quintessence of the phenomenon in a single image. Photographing, for me, is instant drawing, and the secret is to forget you are carrying a camera.’

And then there is this from an interview from 1957:

Photography is not like painting. There is a creative fraction of a second when you are taking a picture. Your eye must see a composition or an expression that life itself offers you, and you must know with intuition when to click the camera. That is the moment the photographer is creative. Oop! the Moment! Once you miss the moment it is gone forever. 

No direct mention here of the Decisive Moment, although we see the word 'moment'.  I think actually that this second quote is a fairly good definition of the decisive moment, though I'm still bothered. It seems to me that the origins of the phrase The Decisive Moment in relation to Cartier-Bresson may well have come from the title given to his book Images à la sauvette (translation: Pictures on the sly) when it was released in the United States with a new title: The Decisive Moment.

Here's the thing. We can accept that when we are making a photograph and it all falls into place that this is the 'decisive' moment, but what is this mysterious 'it'. We can say, lighting, composition, subjects and all the rest, have to be in the right place at that right time, but what really determines exactly when the 'decisive moment' occurs? You see, I have a motto: There are no ordinary moments. Meaning, of course that every moment is special, every moment is decisive.

And here's a little bit of evidence to suggest that I might just be onto something here. After more research I have found what may be the first ever use of the actual phrase 'decisive moment'. Jean Francios Paul de Gondi, a cardinal no less of the Roman Catholic church who lived from 1613 to 1679 and came from a rich banking family (didn't they all in those days? Churchman didn't always mean holyman) wrote this:

There is nothing in this world that does not have a decisive moment.

In other words, this rich (though he ran up huge debts and died ‘poor’) cardinal who isn't known for much other than writing his memoirs and whose main claim to fame in our time is that he is to be found on Wikipedia, came up with the idea that some of us social documentary and street photographers use as a benchmark for our own work.

Of course he is saying that all of life, all that happens has its decisive moment. I, in my not quite infinite wisdom, choose to believe he means by this that no moment is by definition ‘ordinary’. 

So, does this mean we just keep our finger down on the shutter button? Do we 'spray and pray’ (what a disgusting image that conjures up; what a sad way to use a camera) and hope we come up with some kind of 'decisive moment'? Hardly. For me it means that every moment has the potential to be special. A street scene of people milling about at a bus stop for example, is always for someone going to contain something special. If I come along with my camera it will be a good scene to photograph or it won't be. It will depend, as we say, on the coming together of elements. And one of those elements is me! Or you; the photographer anyway. 

What I am getting to here in my usual roundabout way is this: If I am there at that bus stop, really there, and I choose to make a photograph, then almost by definition I will come up with a decisive moment. This is so because by being truly present in that space and in that time (ie the moment) I will simply be another element that joins with the flow of all the other elements. I will 'see', I will 'feel' how it is and what is going on. Whether that photograph will be worth sharing with others, well that's another question (for another day).

What I try to keep in mind, and our cardinal friend here has helped me remember this, is that even if the photograph I've made isn't one I choose to keep and/or show to others, it doesn't matter. In some way, in some form, I have shared in and preserved a record of a decisive moment. 

It is the coming together and it is the attempt at coming together, that makes what we do worthwhile as documentary or street photographers. It is the intention, the attitude, the frame of mind that  we come to our work with, that matters. It is also important that we recognize that all moments are special, that none are ‘ordinary’. That way our life is one long significant - and decisive - moment.

The Decisive Moment that Lead to the Decisive Moment

Henri Cartier-Bresson (1908 – 2004), is considered a pioneer of photojournalism, though he himself claimed to be a surrealist photographer; it was Robert Capa who suggested to him that if he wanted to get any photography work, then he should call himself a photojournalist.  Cartier-Bresson is revered by many modern street photographers, and rightly so. What many don’t know is that as a young man he spent some time in Africa, where he got into a bit of trouble, made heaps of sketches and then, finally something happened that changed his life and the history of photography too.

Cartier-Bresson was trained as a painter, and that really was his passion and way of recording and interpreting the world around him. In a sense he wouldn’t necessarily describe himself as a “photographer”; he said that he turned to photography simply as a way to ‘testify with a quicker instrument than a brush’. But what led him to this change, to the picking up of a camera?  Well, still in Africa, he saw a photo in a magazine. This photo:

Three Boys at Lake Tanganyika (1930) Martin Munkacsi 

Seeing this extraordinary photo by Hungarian photographer  Martin Munkacsi, Cartier-Bresson understood immediately that, ‘photography could reach eternity through the moment’. He realised the potential of the camera to capture the ‘decisive moment’.

So, that was that. He bought a camera and the rest, as so many say, is history. Using a 35mm camera with a standard lens, allowed Cartier-Bresson to work quickly and unobtrusively.  The title of his book, Images à la Sauvette (changed for US publication to The Decisive Moment) means images on the sly; in other words, candid photography. I am not fond of the word sly, but that's just me. We know what it means really don't we?

Cartier-Bresson insisted on strong composition. He used the viewfinder to frame subjects precisely, preferring to crop the image in the camera (though, contrary to popular belief, he was no purist and cropped images if it suited his needs or what he wanted to say).

He shot in Black and White because he regarded the camera as simply a ‘sketchbook’. It's as simple as this. Perhaps this point may be a contribution to the black and white versus colour debate in street photography? Something to think about at least. For Bresson the choice was not one of aesthetics; it was merely a practical choice that met with his requirements and purpose.

Anyway, I digress. This simple but lovely photograph of a moment of joy being expressed by three young boys was a decisive moment which prompted this great artist to produce not only some of the finest photographs ever made, but also to actually shape the history of photography and especially street photography. 

Or, is this photo really of a very ordinary moment that, with the keen observation of the artist who senses when all the elements just come together to form a harmonious whole, is made decisive because it has been recorded? Makes you think of all those unrecorded moments doesn't it?

Photographing the Moment: It's a Vision Thing

There is one thing that photography must contain: the humanity of the moment. This kind of photography is realism. But realism is not enough; there has to be vision, and the two together can make a good photograph.                                                         

      Robert Frank

What is it exactly that Frank is saying here? I think, put simply, he is telling us that for a photo to be potentially (my italics) successful, it must contain not only a moment of the life of the person or people being photographed, but it must also contain something of humanity as it was expressed in that moment.

We see a lot of Street photography that clearly is made with the intention of producing a kind of technically correct result. (Disclaimer: I'm not going go anywhere near debates such as the "sharpness in Street Photography is overrated" paradigm doing the rounds at the moment).  And of course we do have to have some technical expertise and aspirations for our photography. But oftentimes we try so hard to copy the styles of the "masters", or the latest "trends" in street photography, or to get our heads around "zone focus", or "depth of field" and "bokeh" and the rest,  that we, either lose sight of the vision we brought to street photography in the first place, or we deny ourselves the opportunity to develop our own unique vision and voice 

But even worse than all this in my opinion is the missed opportunities to celebrate the humanity in the moments we are so fortunate to share with the people we photograph. At the same time we disrespect and objectify those people; we begin to treat them as simply one more (but not any more special than any other) element in our photos.

Now, I'm not saying that people in our photos are not to be considered as compositional, aesthetic or narrative elements; what I am saying is that at least for me, people must be the primary element. Or to put it more precisely: in order to inject humanity into our photos we have to make the moment as the people in our photos are living it the focus and the most important consideration when we make a photograph. 

Not all my photos are "tack sharp" (though for me the people I photograph deserve to be seen as clearly as possible whenever possible in a way that doesn't detract from the meaning of the moment); not all my photos are composed in accordance with the Rule of Thirds or the Golden Mean and the rest (though I study composition and I hope it informs that unconscious part of me that "sees" while I am in Street photography mode. Again I owe it to the people I photograph); lens aperture is only important to the extent that it allows me to show the people I photograph in the best light (to coin a phrase). No need to go on: I'm sure you get the picture (get it? picture? haha)

At the end of the day it comes down to finding a balance: My choice is to work towards a balance that favors the humans and their lived experience in my street photos, while still making a photo that is as technically good as I’m able. As Robert Frank says ‘… realism is not enough; there has to be vision.’ 

Documenting Daily Life with your Camera: Why is it Important?

A Special Love (Dubbo Australia December 2014)

Recently I came across the term concerned photography. Cornell Capa, the great photojournalist coined the phrase, which for him described “work committed to contributing to or understanding [of] humanity’s well being”.

What interested me at first was the idea that this very much coincided with one of the driving forces behind my own work. So, I dug a little deeper. Looking up the term in Wikipedia I discovered that, according to their writer:

Social documentary photography or concerned photography is the recording of humans in their natural condition with a camera, it is a form of documentary photography.

Ah, I saw, the two terms are interchangeable. So, off I went to the entry on Documentary Photography:

Documentary photography usually refers to a popular form of photography used to chronicle both significant and historical events and everyday life. It is typically covered in professional photojournalism or real life reportage, but it may also be an amateur, artistic, or academic pursuit. The photographer attempts to produce truthful, objective, and usually candid photography of a particular subject, most often pictures of people.

And, without wanting to enter the endless and tedious debates on what is and what isn’t street photography, much of what I discovered in my little research resonated with my own thinking and more or less described how I define my street photography. In other words, and to again risk complete and permanent ostracism from the street photography community, for me my street photography is social documentary and vice versa. I know that many street photographers claim their work is not documentary, and while for many it may be true, for others I think they are mistaken. Oops, sorry. Not going down that road or street (get it? not going down that street? lol)

There are many extraordinary social documentary photographers today, and from the past, who have highlighted many important social issues, injustices, wars, poverty, famine. A lot of what we (or should I just speak for myself here?) know of the world and the history of the last century has come from seeing the work of these gifted and dedicated people. People like Capa himself, Mary Ellen Mark,  W.Eugene Smith, and a dozen others spring to mind.

You will have heard that currently fashionable idea that “these days everyone is a photographer”. Of course it is total and absolute nonsense. Have you watched the promotional videos put out by camera manufacturers? You know, the ones in which this or that camera turns the user into an intrepid high risk taking adventurer, smooth talking travel “shooter” in mystical and exotic lands far away, or legend in the making photojournalist documenting poverty in dusty war torn places (while still maintaining a pristine hairstyle, spotless safari type outfit and brand new dustless camera gear).  Like most advertising, it is sad, cynical and manipulative rubbish peddling “things” to people who they must think are too stupid to know better.

Despite this myth making (which it has to be said does sell heaps of cameras), most of us are either not able, are unwilling, or simply don’t have the skills, courage, opportunity or desire to pursue such lives. Most of us live what might be best described as ordinary lives.

But, of course, you know what I have to say about this already I think. There are no ordinary lives, nor are there any ordinary people. While I hope there will always be people willing to bear witness to and document the injustices and horrors in our world in the attempt to help correct them, or at least bring them to the attention of the rest of us so we can no longer say “but we didn’t know”), the reality is that for most of us it is the life around us at this very moment that is, well, reality. It is the people we witness in our daily lives, as we go about our business (whatever that may be) that are “humans in their natural condition”. And it is the photographing of those lives, moments in those lives, that constitutes social documentary photography, as noted in the definition above.

And it is by documenting the so-called ordinary that we may contribute to the work being done by those “big names” we love and admire and sometimes wish we could emulate. Well, we can emulate them. Look around you, see the people around you. Don’t look for the “pleasing composition” or the “interesting shadows”. Don’t become obsessed by the “tonal range” or whatever. Look at the people. Realize that at that very moment you have an opportunity to record the significant and the seemingly not so significant, moments that in reality are all important and worthy of our attention.

(DISCLAIMER: I’m not saying don’t learn and apply technical skills. I’ve written before that the documenting of the lives of people requires us to the best job we can with our camera equipment (and editing tools). It’s about intention, about priorities. It's about knowing the tech stuff but allowing it to work on its own accord while you focus on the real point of photography.

Because we see our own lives as pretty ordinary and often dull and full of what we think of as meaningless routine, we tend to see the lives of those around us in the same way. It’s only when we look further afield that we think that life "over there" is different, more exciting, more interesting. But, it’s not true. Every moment we witness with (or without come to think of it) our camera is unique. It’s never going to happen again. Ever or anywhere. Each photo we make has the potential to become a document that just might affect someone somewhere, elicit an emotional response, even lead to change. It might just be a small change in the life of that one viewer, but you’ve got to start somewhere

Right?

PS

I do know quite a few people personally who are fine social documentary photographers of the "everyday". Here are just two who I think meet the criteria for being concerned photographers. Follow the links and it might just set you on a wonderful journey of discovery. I hope to feature these special artists and others in posts to come

Judith Rodriguez is a compassionate photographer from Argentina whose work is full of humanity. Judith's photos just ooze truth and love. I'm proud to call her friend.

Doug Berryhill is an American photographer whose work in documenting his hometown is extraordinary and will be seen as a valuable (and an especially fine) historical archive. Doug knows his town, cares for and about its people. All round good guy in my not so humble opinion.

One Street Photography Lesson I've Learned from the singer Kenny Rogers

I'm republishing this from a few months back because I think it's a lesson worth getting out there. Enjoy!

Okay, let's begin at the beginning. Kenny Rogers is (or was) a very big name in Country music. Not an obvious introduction to a post on street photography you might think. Well, you see, among his many chart topping hits, there was one called The Gambler. He made that tune famous!

  Anyway, it's about a couple of guys stuck on a "train to nowhere". One, a gambler, starts talking to the other guy because they're both too tired to sleep. He says (and forgive my paraphrasing) "You know son, I make a living out of reading people's faces. And I reckon that yours suggests you've seen better days. So, if you give me a swig of your whiskey I'll give you some advice, an 'ace' you can keep". Or words to that effect.

   He then drinks the whiskey and starts to give the guy some really good advice about knowing when to walk away, knowing when to run; when to hold your cards and when to throw them away. Still, I hear you saying, what's this got to do with street photography? Okay, here's the bit of the song I'm talking about:

You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table.There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin' is done.

Still not being real clear am I? Alright, here it is in street photographer lingo:

You never chimp* while you're on the street and still making photographs. There'll be plenty of time later once you've uploaded your memory card to your computer for checking how many good ones you got, and how many you didn't; what you've done right, and what you've done wrong.

Now, all of us who use digital cameras have been guilty of such behavior. And it's a very bad habit! I mean, while you're busy peering at the monitor on the back of your camera, you aren't there and then; you're no longer on the street. You are no longer of the street—and you are no longer in the moment either. You're off in your head somewhere, analyzing. You've left the Zone'! Not only does it take some time to get back into the Zone when you lift your head once again to the street, just think of what you have missed as the life of the street has just flowed right on by while you've been distracted by your monitor analyzing.

  Many street photographers actually turn their monitors off, so they aren't tempted to 'chimp'. And of course this is where our film using sisters and brothers are ahead of the game. They have no choice but to wait till later to see what they've got.

  The gambler gives his advice about not counting your money while still at the table because he knows that once you take your eyes, mind and heart off the game, you set yourself up for a losing streak. Think about when you last caught yourself chimping. Do you think you missed some good opportunities? Did you miss some good moments? Did it take you some time to get back into the game, sorry, I mean the Zone?

  So, here's what I suggest you do: Resist the temptation (and after several years of photographing on the street, I admit I still succumb occasionally—and pay the consequences too). Just don't look at your monitor. Turn it off if you like. It really is that simple; Tough love of this sort is the only solution. Actually, that's the tough part. You can add some love by setting up a reward system for when you find yourself not chimping for a whole session on the street. Here's what I do: I remind myself that I am going to sit down "in a little while" to have a coffee or cup of tea. Just to rest my legs you understand. If I've been good and not chimped, I will then—and only then—allow myself a quick run through of the images I've made so far.

   But, even then, though, I don't like to spend a lot of time analyzing what I've done. If I do, I run the risk of getting too much into the thinking mode, and right away from the Zone where I am really in and of the street, and in the moment. And, really, that's where the best street photographs are made.

*The Urban Dictionary defines 'chimping' as:

What one does after taking a picture with a digital camera and looking at the result.(My Note: The street photography take on this would be: checking whether or not we have "captured the moment").  Derived from the words they (photographers) speak when chimping: "Ooo-oo-oo!" (as in the sounds chimpanzees make)

 Disclaimer:

         I do not endorse gambling. In fact, I believe gambling (as in poker, horse racing, sports betting            and the rest) is a curse and more often than not simply another way for the rich to get richer on          the backs and with the money of the poor.