I Call Myself a Humanist Street Photographer And With Good Reason Too

Over the last few days I've been reading and researching the French Humanist Street Photographers for a project I'm working on (stay tuned for that!) and while looking around, I came across a great post on the (possibly soon to be defunct) F/50 International Photography Collective site. The post is headed 'I'm not a Street Photographer' and is by Collective member Peter Barton, In the post Peter points out the problematic nature of calling oneself a 'street photographer', especially nowadays.

'I’ve never been happy calling myself a "Street Photographer". There’s something about the term that makes me shudder – especially when the short form "togs" is used.' Peter says in the post.  He then goes on to talk about the famous (or infamous depending on your point of view) street photographer who is well known for the statement, 'I have no ethics' and who Peter describes as 'aggressive and bullying'.

While accepting that there is more to street photography than this particular photographer's in-your-face style, Peter says that 'if that's what it takes to be called a street photographer then it's not for me.’ Barton laments that the photographer described above and 'his ilk' have such a high profile. What to do? he asks. 

In a search for the answer, he came across the term Humanist Photographer. The term resonated with him and he tracked down a definition in the introduction to a course at the Simon Fraser University:

Humanist photography is the celebration of life and its inexhaustible diversity as seen through the lens of a photographer. Often called poetic realism, this genre celebrates the ordinary, the small pleasures of life, and the daily pitfalls of our existence; it never ceases to enchant us with its truthfulness and poetics.

Now, I've written to Peter to thank him for his post and for quoting this definition. Why? Because it's exactly what I do and his feelings more or less mirror my own. Well, I suppose anyone who reads this blog already knows that, right? Anyway, Peter prefers the term Humanist to Street. 

And this is the only point on which we don't agree. I have for a long while now called myself a Humanist Street Photographer, and I intend to continue. In fact, if I weren’t already disposed to do so, I would anyway for exactly the reasons Peter is rejecting the term Street. Here's why:

I am very pleased, very honored and very privileged to be a photographer. Or, let me rephrase that. I am privileged to be a Street Photographer with the same kinds of motivations that drove (and drives) the great humanist photographers of the past such as Cartier-Bresson, Robert Doisneau, Willy Ronas, Edouard Boubat, and people like Joel Meyorwitz and so many others nameless and unknown in the present, who have sought to celebrate humanity as described in the definition quoted above

So, I will not allow the faddists, the hucksters and the social media hammer wielders to dictate what I choose to do or how I choose to label myself and my work-even as a way to distance myself from them. Why should I? Street Photography is a really huge business these days. Camera companies, social media "gurus", workshop "teachers", all are on the bandwagon. Well, not all of course, but there is definitely an industry called ‘Street Photography’. 

And it’s a business based on fads and on fashion; and, like any fad or fashion, there’s a lot of hype and marketing surrounding it.  But, like any fad, it will pass; the business people involved will move on to the next latest and greatest thing.

What will be left amidst the who knows how many millions of 'street photographs' (the good the bad and the ugly and in all the multitude of sub genres and styles) will be the work, the photographs, made by the street photographers of the past and of the present who were and are motivated by a humanist view of the world and have an intent to simply record the daily lives of the so-called 'ordinary people'. That's history I guess.

I am not saying that my work will last; I am not comparing myself with the greats from the past or even the present. And there is one thing you can say about me: I most definitely do not have a high profile; in fact no profile is closer to the reality. But in my work as a Humanist Street Photographer, I strive to 'celebrate the ordinary, the small pleasures of life, and the daily pitfalls of our existence.' And I plan to keep on doing it too, long after the fad has faded, just as I was doing it a long time before the fad was fomented (or was it fermented?) in the minds of the marketeers

And I have a dream: I dream that my photographs will 'enchant [people who see them] with their truthfulness and poetics.' 

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.

Stealth Has No Place in Street Photography

"Have you got the latest stealth camera from.....? It's great for street photography."
How often have I read this or something similar  How often have I read the need for stealth when doing street photography. How often have there been arguments about the pros and cons of big cameras versus little (usually expensive and "trendy") ones. On and on it goes with the great hunters who think that shooting people and doing it in a clandestine manner like some spy with the latest "stealth camera" is what street photography is about. Why, did you know one of the most expensive camera names in the world (no names are here mentioned, and it would be a mistake by legal eagles to think they know what I'm talking about) is touted by some as being an ideal stealth camera for street photography? 

Before I really get started, why don't we look up a definition of stealth? Hang on, I'll be right back. Okay, a quick search and here is the first definition that came up (I've cut and pasted it directly):

stealth  

/stelTH/

Noun Cautious and surreptitious action or movement: "the silence and stealth of a hungry cat".

Adjective (chiefly of aircraft) Designed to make detection by radar or sonar difficult: "a stealth bomber".

Synonyms noun.   secrecy adjective.   secret - recondite - insidious - clandestine Blimey, it's heavier than I thought. You see, I had the idea to do a post on stealth because I dislike the word when it's used in the context of street photography. I knew it was the name of a bomber, but "surreptitious"? I can kind of live with "cautious" but, "insidious"? Wow. Actually, now I think about it, this all fits nicely with my thoughts on the subject of stealth. You see, one of the big argument for stealth in street photography is that "street photographers"  don't want to appear creepy or sneaky or in some other way disreputable. For me, street photography is about documenting real life as it occurs. As you've read and heard me say before,  I think there are no ordinary moments, all moments have the potential to be decisive. Anyway,today is not the day to  go over all that again. Cutting to the chase, I will just say stealth goes totally against all I stand for as a street photographer and as an artist. I believe in honesty in all things, and photographing people on the street is no exception. Now, while I don't often ask for permission from subjects, I never try to hide either myself, my camera or my intentions from the people I hope to be fortunate enough to photograph. But, I hear some of you say, if you're seen that makes it no longer a "true" street photograph. It changes the scene, it influences the subjects. On and on it goes. But, really, is this all actually true? Well, obviously sometimes a subject will see the camera and change their expression or do something to "pose" or whatever. What's wrong with that I would ask. It's not as if it happens very often. Well, not to me anyway. I haven't actually looked at the percentages, but I think the number of people who actually see me or my camera is pretty low. And what happens when they do see me and it somehow changes their manner or pose or whatever? Well very often it is just that change that makes the image what it is. A genuine human interaction takes place; a moment is shared and experienced together. And, in my not ever so humble opinion, that is a great thing indeed. And the times when it doesn't "make" the image? Well there's been no harm  done and it's still pretty much a positive experience all round. Oh, one more thing. Not only do I use a DSLR (with a battery grip for easier vertical work), but I also use either of two zoom lenses ranging from medium wide to telephoto. It can be a heavy beast and a pretty plain to see one as well. But I don't care! I love using it; the quality of the images it produces is amazing; and if I am going to record other human beings then I have a deep responsibility to record them in the best possible way I can. That's what I try to do. Everything I do as a photographer in the streets is done in plain sight. Note, I do not say that I "hide in plain sight"; I never hide. There is no reason to. I do not claim to be a great photographer; no, not at all. But, I have to say that what I do and at least some of the results I achieve seem to fly in the face of the conventional  or received wisdom or lore surrounding street photography: I do not hide, yet I am able to go unnoticed most of the time; I use a "big" camera, yet still go unnoticed much of the time; my camera is heavy, yet I am able to record moments quickly, even movements as they happen; I do not "zone focus", yet my AF lens seems to record all kinds of little nuances; I use a long lens, yet I am still (according to many viewers of my work) able to achieve a sense of intimacy with my subjects that street photography lore says can only be achieved with a short lens and by being very close to the subject. Need I go on?  Well, there is one more thing I want to say. I've seen and heard so-called street photographers and "teachers" of street photography say that it is a dangerous thing to be doing. By this I mean to say there is a fear that is promoted (and I mean promoted) that a street photographer runs the risk of being attacked physically by irate people not wanting to be photographed. I even heard one of these "teachers" ask one of his "students' on a video: "Have you been punched yet". This might be a slight misquote, but you get the point I think. Is this why so many people are "doing" street photography now? To prove bravery and/or bravado in the face of a perceived physical threat? If it is, then it's a very sad and scary development in the history of photography. In my entire life as a photographer (it's a lot of years!), and more to the point, in my four or five years of "serious" street photography work, I have never been punched. The nearest I have ever come to being even verbally attacked is a guy in a car yelling at me as he sped past using some colourful language about my camera which was at that point hung innocently over my shoulder. Even when people have objected to being photographed (another myth: "most people don't want to be photographed. Total and absolute rubbish. I accept that it is true in some cultures of course, but the exact opposite has been my experience) they have simply said no. Sometimes more strongly than other times, but never in a way that could be seen as "violent" or attacking. Look, in truth there is nothing special about me. There really isn't. I am not on a hunt; I don't shoot people; I don't steal souls; I don't capture subjects. I do not sneak around looking to catch people doing silly or quirky or "interesting" things.  I simply practise my art, my street work, with compassion, love, respect and in a thoughtful, calm and, I could say, prayerful  manner. I have no need to hide, as I have already said. I have no need of stealth. I do not do anything that could be construed as insidious. Perhaps there are a few questions those who wish to work as street photographers need to ask of themselves. Why is it that I need to hide? Do I need a "stealth" camera or mode of operating? If I do, why do I? And the big one: Do I really want to peruse an activity that could be seen as insidious? I for one do not want myself or my work to be seen in a negative light, when what I do is so enriching, so important (in my opinion) and seeks to present an honest view of people going about their normal lives in the world we all share together Peace to you all