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.’ 

Lightroom Black and White Processing for Street Photographs See My Video!!!

Well my friends I am venturing into the wonderful world of YouTube! I have not only put up four slide shows of my street photographs, I have now produced a video of the Lightroom process I use when preparing my street photographs for the web.I find that for the vast majority of images, Lightroom is all I need, only rarely venturing into Photoshop for any odd bit of cloning or similar. But, I avoid that as much as possible, particularly in my street work. I hope you find it illuminating and, as always, your comments or criticisms are most welcome.

PLEASE GO HERE TO VIEW THIS VIDEO!

Do Not Forsake Me: A Portrait For Our Times

All the casualties that I've left behind.
And I, and I hide them in the corners of my mind
All the memories, nothing I could sing.
I've learned so many things, but the bitterness remains.
I'm sick of drying everybody else's tears, with nobody to dry mine.
Don't, don't forsake me.
Why do you break me every time?
I'm asking you, don't, don't forsake me. Why do you break me? Again and again.
I can't make it alone.
All the judges and all the disarray.
You keep on trying me, but you're only pushing me away.
I don't want you to go, but I can't tell you're here.
You're just another soul that I'm making disappear.
I'm sick of drying everybody else's tears, with nobody to dry mine                                               


Used with thanks to Duffy the Welsh singer and whoever actually wrote these beautiful lyrics

Last But Not Least: A Man and a Bike: A Multi-Part Review of Henri Cartier-Bresson Part 5

So, we have reached the last part of my small and woefully incomplete review of Henri Cartier-Bresson. In this final part, there is only one image discussed.

Tight framing and precise timing deliver the decisive moment envisaged by the photographer in this photograph of a cyclist in a Paris street. He is captured as he is about to leave the frame. We see this compositional strategy, which adds tension and drama, in the puddle jumper who is also about to leave the frame, and the peeking man who is looking out of the frame. 

This image differs from the others in that it is shot from above, which adds to the sense of motion in the scene.

These images capture glimpses of people going about their ‘normal lives’. This is the power of Cartier-Bresson’s photography: we are treated to moments (albeit ones the artist has chosen for us) in the everyday world that we usually fail to see—and do not give significance to.

 
His ideas and images have inspired many photographers who have sought ways to capture the mundane as well as the profound moments in the human story.

It has been a pleasure to post this little series, as incomplete and inexpert as it may be. I thank you my friends for taking the time to visit and read this series. I hope it has been enjoyable and some use to you.
Peace