Seated in the Street (Sydney Australia July 2016)

Eyes Front Eyes Down (Sydney Australia June 2016)

Fingers Poised? Look Before you Leap, I Mean Click

A few years ago when I was still reading newspapers, I saw a report about a columnist at a major metropolitan newspaper in Australia who was ‘let go’ because she sent some ‘controversial’ messages via Twitter while at a TV awards night. Now, I would not be surprised if you hadn’t heard of this: it’s hardly Earth shattering, and it isn’t really important on any number of levels if you ask me.

What I want to talk about here is a follow up opinion piece I read a few days later. In it the commentator, while claiming to put the responsibility squarely on the offending Twitterer, writes, ‘... the availability and immediacy of the technology intrude upon the normal choices and judgments which people make.’ He adds that services like Twitter, Facebook, emails and the rest, ‘bring into the public realm many things that would previously remain private.’

Of course, he’s right there isn’t he? You read all sorts of stuff out there in social media land and it ‘ain’t all pretty, as the saying goes. This guy goes on to say that we are at ‘an evolutionary disjunct between old notions of the public and private spheres and the means of communications now widely available.’

Therefore, it seems to follow that it’s not your fault if, when visiting social media land, you blurt out something that you might later regret or that is offensive or libelous or otherwise insensitive. Or is it? Well, of course it's your fault. You, like me and everyone else, are responsible for what we say and do whether it’s online or in person or on a postcard! 

There is a story about US president Franklin Roosevelt. As we all know Roosevelt had polio and used a wheelchair. However, for public speeches he stood with ‘discreet assistance’. Apparently, one day he actually fell over and lay sprawled and helpless in front of the assembled Washington press corps. Of the dozens of photographers there guess how many took a photo? Go on guess.

Okay, I’ll tell you. Not one. That’s right: no photographer thought it was relevant; they all—each and every one of those hungry ‘vultures’—judged that it was a personal matter and therefore not to be reported. You can bet that if a world leader fell in front of the cameras today it would be in your inbox, on YouTube and plastered all over the Internet before he or she was back on his or her feet.

Something similar happened to me a while back while I was working on the street. I saw a guy leaning against a tree. Instinctively I raised the camera to my eye; then, just as instinctively I lowered it again and went to the man and asked him if he was okay. He told me he was feeling really sick, so I offered to help him to a doctor. To cut a long story short, he had nothing serious and it all ended well.

My point is that, just like those Washington photographers, I had a choice: make the photo or not. Like them I decided this was not a photo “opportunity”, so put the camera down.

You know something? I have always thought that if there was one tool that shouted ‘availability and immediacy’ it’s the camera. This isn’t a new idea of course: it’s about the decisive moment and all that. Photography 101 you might say.

So how come it’s so different with the buttons on your mouse or your mobile? Especially as you usually have to type a message before you get to send it. If you ask me that’s a lot less immediate than the camera shutter. What I’m getting at here in my usual long-winded fashion is this: if those photographers could make the decision in the heat of the moment to not press the button, why do we need to make excuses for us ‘modern types’ with our keyboards and mobile phones and whatever?

Of course, the answer is we don’t. As I said, we are all responsible for what we say and do. I suppose a good motto to follow in our online or other communications—and in life generally— would be ‘Do No Harm’. Or at least, do as little harm as possible.

Now, I am not saying here that I’ve never said anything on Twitter, or on Facebook or any other place, that was hurtful or insensitive or judgemental or in other ways just not good to say. Mind you, I do try to stick to my little motto, Do No Harm (it’s not mine of course, I just adopted it).

And for those times when I have failed, I apologise very sincerely. I do not make excuses; I can choose to press send or click OK or whatever after I’ve typed a message (note my italics please), just as I can choose to press my camera’s shutter button.

Let’s not have any more of this ‘evolutionary disjunct’ stuff. Though, when you think about it, we actually are at a lot of those type of places right now, don’t you think? It’s just that I would rather not use this particular disjunct (I love this word) as an excuse to be sloppy when it comes to how I communicate with friends and strangers alike in cyberspace, or in terrestrial space, or even in my head! 

Street Photographers Can Help Change the World for the Better

Lovers at the Shop Window (Amsterdam August 2013)

Reading a post from the Book of Life site, reminded me of a dilemma many artists, many street photographers face: how do we practice our art in a world cursed by suffering, conflict, environmental decay, corporate greed and the rest?

The post poses this question.  The opening paragraph reads:

The cultural elite gets nervous about cheerful or sweet art. They worry that pretty, happy works of art are in denial about how bad the state of the world is and how much suffering there is in almost every life.

It goes on: have we forgotten about the misery, corruption, and suffering?

The author proposes that, rather than having forgotten, the reality is we feel too small, too inadequate to the task of doing anything, so we withdraw from the struggle.

At this point, I have a confession to make. I wish I knew far less than I do about the suffering that is going on (and always has) in the world; I wish I knew less about history and how the political and economic systems that plague us all work*.

It’s hard to be optimistic, to have hope that things will change for the better. But the author suggests: ‘Cheerfulness is an achievement and hope is something to celebrate.’

That’s where artists come in. That’s where street photographers come in. I know, not all street photographers believe what they do is art. That’s okay; doesn’t matter what you call what you do. Same difference, as we used to say. The point is, artists need to produce art that inspires hope, that celebrates the good in the world and celebrates humanity.

Of course it is also the artist’s role to highlight the suffering, the inequalities, the injustices, the threats to the planet. In fact without these artists there are many people who would be able to say, “but we didn’t know about … . " The role of the artist is to make sure nobody can ever make this excuse.

But, I and I suspect many other artists, aren’t able to focus on that side of things. For me at least it is not a case of not wanting to, or that I don’t care. It’s more that I am physically and mentally not able to.  However, I do not ignore the suffering in and of the world; I do not deny it and pretend that all is well.

What I choose to do about it is celebrate humanity through street photography. I choose to photograph the ordinary moments in people’s lives; moments in which they might be expressing joy or sorrow, laughing or crying, going about the normal business of daily life. I choose to do this as my way of contributing to change in the world.

Sound pretentious? Sound a tad immodest? It’s true that street photography doesn’t seem on the surface to be a part or the political or moral and ethical battles which at this very moment in history are determining the future of humanity and of the planet. After all, one might ask, how is the making of photos of people doing ordinary things in the street help anybody?

It is a valid question and I will try to give an answer that means something.

After World War II the French Humanist photographers, as well as other artists around the world, sought to shift the focus; after so much death and destruction, they turned their cameras (and paint brushes, music and the rest) towards the good in humanity. They sought to celebrate life.

In France, photographers began focusing on a number of themes which, for them, reflected this desire to celebrate humanity. They seem obvious to us now, but then, after so much pain, their work represented a revival, an affirmation of survival and the possibility of a good life:

• Lovers. Couples kissing or otherwise showing affection. Couples strolling and enjoying each other’s company.  Such scenes, such moments, demonstrate our resilience as a species.
• Children. Children playing. Children enjoying life, laughing and being, well, children. After years of war people must have been overjoyed to see children once again free to be.
• The Family.  Photographs of family groups, of families around a table enjoying a meal and the company of loved ones. Weddings too, played a part. Again images of normality, of hope in a future brighter than the past.
• Work. For so many years the main role of working people had been to fight or to otherwise support the war machine. Humanist photographers saw the workers as the new heroes, so they showed people engaged in all kinds of labor and occupations to celebrate their efforts and nobility.
• The street. As life returned to normal, photographers began to portray people going about their ordinary business: shopping, chatting in cafes, gossiping on street corners, buskers, stall holders and others making their lives or living on the street. All the ordinary things that for so long people had been denied.
• Public Gatherings. During the war years, there was little tolerance of public gatherings. So, now that peace had come, photographers spent time recording fetes, carnivals, festivals and the like. Documenting  these celebrations of community became a big part of humanist photography.

Of course for a great many street photographers these themes form the foundations of who and what they photograph. But how many of us think that we are helping to change the world?

Now, intention is key. It is why you make photos that will, at least in part, determine the impact they have the potential to make.  I can’t speak to anyone else’s reasons or intentions. I can only say that for myself, photographing ‘ordinary people’ doing ‘ordinary things’ is an act of resistance to the dehumanizing and numbing power of the obstacles all people of goodwill are up against.

In this way, there is a possibility that my photos might bring a smile to someone, or perhaps prompt a happy memory or even suggest a course of action.  And then there might be a time when a photo of mine brings a tear to someone’s eye, or brings up a sad memory. Both are valid; both are about what makes us human and both  just might have a chance of engendering a little hope.

Why do you do street photography? What do you hope comes from your photos?

Peace

*     * No, this isn’t true. After all, ignorance isn’t bliss, it’s just ignorance.  I just wish it didn’t upset  me as much as it does, but then, if it didn’t, what sort of person would that make me? And what  use would I be as an artist?

Empathy in Street Photography: A new word to help us understand what it's all about

In the Bus Queue (Nottingham England 2013)

I've learned a new word this week: sonder. I forget now where I came across it, but it's an invented word. Or, to be more accurate, it is a word that has an invented meaning. A little research led me to the source for this word (don't worry: I will tell you what it means and why I'm writing about it very soon): The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. According to the explanation on the site:

The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows is a compendium of new and invented words written by John Koenig. Each original definition aims to fill a hole in the language - to give a name to emotions we all might experience but don't yet have a word for. The author's mission is to capture the aches,  demons, vibes, joys and urges that roam the wilderness of the psychological interior. Each sorrow is bagged, tagged and tranquilized, then released gently back into the subconscious. 

Very groovy don't you think? A really excellent and innovative idea and project. The world is in great need of new and expressive words and ideas  we can all share and relate to.  I suggest everyone has at least a look at the site. Koenig also invites us to write him with ideas about emotions we can't find words for.

Anyway, back to my newly discovered word, sonder. Here is the definition from the Dictionary:

sonder:n. the realisation that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own - populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness - an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you'll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.

I was really struck by this idea. We have all had, I think, those little flashes in which we suddenly realise that others around us, friends or strangers, are just like us with the same worries, loves, fears, joys, heartaches, responsibilities and complicated lives, as we ourselves have.

But what really impressed me was how this word, this concept, relates to my work, to street photography. Another way to put the lengthy definition above is to say sonder means empathy; it means feeling with our fellow travellers on planet Earth. And it is through empathy that I am able to photograph people I encounter on the street in a compassionate and loving way.

After all, they are just like me, and I am just like them. This informs my work and enables me to meet the people I photograph as equals; there is no imbalance. Our encounter  becomes a sharing, an acknowledgement that we are all in this life together.

My job is to simply make a note (through using my camera to make a photograph) of a few of the moments in which we cross paths. I can then share our encounter with others, who in turn may come to understand at least a little of the lives of others.

Sonder is also a word in German. It means special. And I like that too. The realisation of the things we have in common is a truly significant insight (and it cries out to be shared). It follows that the brief encounters between me (with my camera) and people in the street are special. Like I always say, there are no ordinary moments.

But wait, there's more! Sonder is the Swedish word for, among other things, broken. As in broken apart. The English word asunder is related. And aren't we all, in some way or other, at least a little bit "broken"? We've all had hurts, disappointments, losses, traumas in our lives that have left us a little damaged and "worse for wear".

And, you see, this is a huge part, at least for me, of what street photography is all about. As I encounter people in the street, I try to remember that, just as I am doing my best to make my way in the world, so are they. Their humanity is my humanity; their brokenness is my brokenness.

I know I've quoted the great humanist photographer Abraham Menashe a few times, but I would like to leave you now with another quote from an interview he did a few years ago.

"The world is in need of affirmation. At the very heart of our humanity is the challenge of unconditional love, which is to suspend judgement and open fully to the vivid reality of other beings. Unconditional love does not know barriers; it says yes, it affirms the moment even if it is full of grief".

 Peace to you all.

Composition in Street Photography is Humanist concept: A powerful interview

All street or documentary photographers will have heard of Joel Meyerowitz, and many (including me) admire him and his work. This interview speaks about composition in a way you may not have heard before. It's a very humanistic approach which I share and which goes against the grain of much street photography which seeks, in Joel's words, to "collect objects" or to put it another way, to objectify the world we seek to record with our cameras.
I have one point of disagreement with Joel, which is not a huge deal, well it could be. He says that with a rangefinder the photographer has one eye free to see the rest of what's going on around the scene, but an SLR with its viewfinder in the centre of the camera blinds the photographer to the context. I personally have only ever used SLRs and now a DSLR and I do not feel that I am ever unable to see or be aware of the surrounding context when I am working. It's just a technical thing, but don't let it convince you that you can't follow his marvellous advice with an SLR. It works very well for me.
What he says represents, I believe a landmark statement in the aesthetics of street photography and in my not so humble opinion, should be part of the gospel we follow as we take our cameras on to the street.