Change the World: Bit by Bit, Moment by Moment

Do Not Forsake Me (Melbourne Australia July 2011)

One of the many wonderful things in my life has been the opportunity to meet and come to know so many fine people through social media platforms such as Facebook (don't let anyone tell you that social media is a waste of time or 'keeps us isolated'). And among these people are many many fine artists. Artists in all disciplines: painters, singers, musicians, songwriters, poets, short story writers, novelists, sculptors. And last but not least, I have met and come to love the work of many wonderful photographers.

Among these photographers is one I've mentioned on this blog before, Doug Berryhill. Doug is an American photographer who has been deep into documenting the people of his hometown. His photos are always finely composed, correctly exposed and all the rest. But way and far far above any technical expertise or even purely aesthetic considerations, Doug's work demonstrates a clear and compassionate understanding of human nature, and in particular the people he knows best: those who live in his community. In my ever so humble opinion, Doug's photographs will one day be recognised as not only an important chronicling of that community, but more widely as significant documents of our times.

But it is not his photography that I want to talk about here today; I want to share with you a post he made sometime recently about photography:

We have allowed the fractures within our societies to endanger our sense of a common humanity. Photography can, bit by bit, moment by moment, help to restore that. Photographs that draw me are those that compel me to see beyond the us versus them mentality.

This is as good a definition of humanist photography as you will find. And, to be honest, it is precisely what draws me to Doug's photographs. And I think it is the same for all of us: we are drawn to photos that speak to us of humanity, of people's love and joys; of their hopes and achievements; of their very 'ordinaryness'. Not that anyone is really merely ordinary of course. But you know exactly what I  mean I am sure.

And a photo doesn't have to be by a big name to have this kind of impact on a viewer either. Family snapshots for example. They bring joy, memories, smiles, tears, comfort and even happiness, to people viewing them. Then there is street photography, which for me at least is about bearing witness to, and the sharing of, the so-called ordinary moments of people's lives which go unnoticed and unremembered. A street photo can stop a viewer in their tracks as what they see there acts as a catalyst for them to feel something; what they see prompts an emotional reaction. This happens simply by them witnessing a fellow human being doing something entirely 'ordinary'.

So, that is what I try to do. I try to demonstrate the things we have in common, the things we share as human beings, by photographing individual people going about their lives. From the specific to the general if you like. As Doug said, moment by moment.

This is an important role to play, this bearing witness. It also carries with it enormous responsibility: I am required to be as honest as I can and to honour the truth as I see it without fear or favour. And, perhaps above all, I must do all of this (even to the technical side of things) to the best of my ability. If I can even for a few seconds connect you, the viewer, with the people in my photos, then I will be well pleased and I will know that I have done my job.

II will leave you with a quote (also found on Doug's Facebook page) by one of the most important photographers of all time, Robert Frank, that pretty much sums up the street photographer's job:

There is one thing the photograph must contain, the humanity of the moment

Peac

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.

Victory to Truth and Honor: A Salutation Like No Other

For me and for so many other street and social documentary photographers, and especially those of us coming from a Humanist position, creating good photos that celebrate humanity and tell stories and show scenes that enrich the viewer, it is not enough to have the right camera, understand composition and the rest. Of course I for one will never know enough to fully do justice to the work I do. But like all things in life, it's a lifelong learning process.

No, for me and those others, the making of good work comes from a broader based learning. It comes from an engagement with other art forms and movements. It comes from an ongoing study into what makes us human, why we do what we do. It comes from a knowledge of how society functions, how we all fit into our environment. In other words, in order to be a good street or social documentary photographer I believe that one has to at least be making the attempt to become a well informed, well rounded, human being.

Today's post isn't directly about these ideas. It's more about an aspect of communication in which we have the opportunity to not only revive an old courtesy that seems to be fading away, but also to let others know a little at least of what drives us: the ongoing and never-ending pursuit of honor and truth.

A while back I reconnected with a very good friend. We'd been out of touch for a many years, and I tell you it was really good to hear from him again. I think we've kind of taken off just where we left off. Anyway, I was looking at old emails from him (he used to send his poetry out to people on his list; ah, the good old days when you had to actually email people to share your writing, thoughts, ideas, whatever), and I noticed a really nice sentence he used on one as a way of signing off. He wrote:

Vishwa dharma ki jai

This is Sanskrit and means (according to my friend), 'victory to universal truth and honour'. When I read this expression, I was moved. Now, I don't have a problem with 'yours sincerely' or 'kind regards' and so on, as ways of signing off  an email or (just imagine)  a letter. Indeed, I think those salutations (is that the right word?) can be meaningful and can carry heartfelt and sincere wishes from one person to another.

However, as with all things we do 'automatically' and as a matter of course, these expressions seem to  have lost much, if not all their true meanings. In fact, how often do we get emails with no such signing off, and with merely the sender's name at the bottom? Actually, now I think about it, I remember emails that have no name signing off. On the face of it that might seem rude, but most often it isn't: people and  the way they communicate are changing; I guess some of these so-called 'niceties' are just naturally going to be lost.

So, when I read my friend's Sanskrit salutation, I thought, hey, I'm going to make sure that I for one do not forget these traditional expressions of good wishes and salutation. And what better salutation for a truth seeker (that's me) than my friend's?

It might be that a wish for the victory of universal truth and honor sounds a bit old fashioned, a bit formal even. Not at all: how up to date, how necessary in our materialistic, fast-paced and sometimes lonely and corrupt world, is it to seek truth and to act with honor. Honor isn't the fuddy-duddy, formal term you might think. Look it up: it's about honesty, truth, right behavior, integrity, all that good and right stuff.

So, I'm going to try to use this great salutation whenever I can. After all, it does say a lot about my attitude to my work as a street and social documentary photographer.

And my message to you, dear reader? Vishwa dharma ki jai

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! 

All I Need is a Dollar a Month

Over the several years I have been focusing more and more on my work as a Street and Social Documentary photographer, and sharing my photographs with you all on the internet, I have received so much support, love and encouragement from so many people all over the world that I can hardly find the words.  I’ve discovered that, not only do many people like and value my work, but they have also shared me with how much they admire and support the vision that motivates me and informs all that I do.

And that leads me to the reason for this post. A couple of days ago I suddenly thought all I need to continue and expand my work is $A1 a month. Well, actually that’s a dollar a month from each one of you! I have so many plans, so many ideas, and while I intend to carry on as I am creating photos, expanding on my blog and whatever else I can think of to get my vision out there, that $1 a month will make it a lot easier and less stressful for me, help me get more of my work out there and enable me to share my vision with as many people as possible for as long as possible.

Some of you may be asking: Why should I give him $1 a month? What’s in it for me?  

These are both very good questions that I think only you can answer. You have to decide whether you want to support me and my work in this way; you have to decide if what I am doing is worth it.  The best way I can try to answer your questions is to tell you a little bit more about myself. 

UPDATE: As a thank you gift, I would like to offer anyone who chooses to support me in this way at least two full resolution, electronic versions of any of my photos for you to print and frame as you wish (the vast majority can be printed up to very large sizes).

As many of you already know I am a Social Documentary and Street Photographer. I come to my art from a Humanist perspective which means I strive in my work to celebrate humanity in all its diversity and specialness.  I believe strongly that there are no ordinary people, nor are there any ordinary moments. And I seek to share some of those moments. Love, Compassion and Empathy are the guiding principles that inform my work. If you would like to read a little more about my vision, you can read my Artist’s Statement here.

A few years back my partner Pauline and I decided to simplify our lives in order to focus on the things we consider most important. So, we sold our house, cars, furniture. Gave away our books, records, CDs and all the rest of the material evidence of over 30 years (and you should have seen the tons of rubbish we threw out as well!).

We live a very simple, minimalist lifestyle: we now have very few possessions (only what we can carry) and as a way to explore more places and live more frugally, we do house and pet sitting. We support ourselves through the sale of my work.

It is not an exaggeration to say that my work, my art, is my life. I am either photographing or writing, thinking about photographing and writing, researching and learning, communicating with others about their work and mine. In fact it’s part of my plan to really focus on sharing the work of others much more than I have in the past.

You can find out a lot more about me by going to the links below. Or you can talk to me directly with any questions or comments.  If after learning more about me and my work, you decide to support me with $1 a month (or more), then just follow these steps:

1. Go to my blog here
2. At the top of the right hand column you'll see a section with a Subscribe button and a dropdown menu
3. Click on the dropdown menu and choose the level of support you prefer
4. Click on Subscribe. You will be taken to PayPal
5. Follow the prompts at PayPal  to complete the (very secure) process

Thank you all so much for your support, whatever form it takes. I hope that I can continue to share my photographs, my experiences and my vision, with you all

with love

Paul

Links to my sites.

Paul's Pictures (my website)Instants Out of Time (my blog)Flickr (my photostream)About Me (a page with all my links)

Paul's Pictures Hits the Beach and a Lesson is Learned about what Street Photography Really Is

Longboard Walkers (Sydney Australia February 2015)

There is so much debate going on around the question, "what is street photography?". And, don’t worry, I have absolutely no intention of entering into that debate. I don't mean to say that I don't have my own definition, my own interpretation; far from it: I know precisely what it is for me. If any of you are interested, just type in "define street photography" into your search engine. You will come up with enough reading material to last a lifetime. And, don't even think about looking at the differences between street photography and social documentary: some people say there are a heap of differences, others say the genres overlap. For me, or rather for the majority of my work, the genres are more or less the same.

Anyway, moving along a little. I was rereading the definition of street photography on Wikipedia, and really liked the first paragraph (on the whole):

Street photography is photography that features the human condition within public spaces. Street photography does not necessitate the presence of a street or even the urban environment. Though people usually feature directly, street photography might be absent of people and can be an object or environment where the image projects a decidedly human character in facsimile or aesthetic

The "human condition" and "within public places" are two of the elements that speak to me. No need to be "on the street" (though I have to say, that's where I spend most of my time and do most of my work), and not even in urban environments, though my street photography is almost exclusively in urban areas. Just my preference really.

And, for me the second paragraph also resonates: 

Framing and timing can be key aspects of the craft with the aim of some street photography being to create images at a decisive or poignant moment. Street photography can focus on emotions displayed, thereby also recording people’s history from an emotional point of view. Similarly, Social Documentary photographers document people and their behaviour in public places for the purpose of recording people's history and other purposes; 

I think it's probably fairly clear that the image above does reflect the ideas expressed in these quotes from Wikipedia. Of course, for me this definition might be a little limited in its scope. For instance, I would add that my work seeks to not only record but to celebrate humanity and the human condition in a way that is guiuded by love, compassion and empathy.

I've written before that, while the focus of my work is not on the camera or the technical side of things, I do feel a responsibility to make the best possible photograph I can in order to do justice to the people who are gracious enough to appear in those photographs. So, I do take careful notice of framing and timing when I can. And, while I do believe that there are no ordinary moments, I do try to make my photographs at what we might call a "decisive" moment; that moment that allow for the expression of that extra something. It's hard to explain, but you know it when you see it. 

Longboard Walkers is for me one such image. On a day threatening to storm, some surfers walk along the sand while surfable waves roll in (odd as it may sound, the waves which look pretty tame in this photo, are actually at least six feet. And who says cameras never lie?). You can almost hear the conversation: where should we get in? Who's going first? And you can almost sense the emotions: the excitement and anticipation; even a bit of anxiety: after all it was a wild day.

Above all, the photo for me shows us a moment in time, a moment in history even. Longboards seem to be back in fashion after a long while out of sight, at least from what I've seen anyway. The photo says to me, this is life being lived; it says that, for some, there is excitement to be had in connecting with nature; it speaks of freedom, friendship, challenge, open spaces. It also gets me thinking about life, and how I really should carry on doing the things I love, cherishing the freedom I have, along with the love and connections in my life.

I know, this is my own photo, I made it; well along with the surfers and the waves and the stormy sky. So, you might think, it will obviously mean something special to me. But, if people looking at it get even a fraction of what I've been able to, then I will be well pleased and know that I have done my job.

Peace

Leonard Cohen Speaks about Street Photography (well songwriting actually, but...)

Do not Forsake Me (Melbourne Australia June 2011)

In case you don’t know, I love Leonard Cohen, and I do mean love. He is not only one of the greatest poets and songwriters of our times, he is one of the greatest of all time. His music has guided me, inspired me, enabled me to connect with my emotions and uplifted me in many troubled times of my own.

Recently I read a post from a site I subscribe to called Brain Pickings. The posts I get from them are always stimulating, thought provoking and often enable insights and revelations that I value. Please visit the site and you will see what I mean.

Anyway, the post I was reading was a description and review of a wonderful book, Songwriters on Songwriting. The book is a collection of interviews by Paul Zollo with some of the huge names in songwriting.

In his 1992 conversation with Zollo, Cohen was asked to consider the purpose of music in human life. This was Leonard’s answer:

There are always meaningful songs for somebody. People are doing their courting, people are finding their wives, people are making babies, people are washing their dishes, people are getting through the day, with songs that we may find insignificant. But their significance is affirmed by others. There’s always someone affirming the significance of a song by taking a woman into his arms or by getting through the night. That’s what dignifies the song. Songs don’t dignify human activity. Human activity dignifies the song.

As soon as I read this I knew that what Cohen was saying applied just as much to street and social documentary photography as it does to songwriting. In fact, you could say that what he is talking about is the foundation, or one of the foundations, upon which humanist photography stands:

Songs don’t dignify human activity. Human activity dignifies the song.

This idea resonated deeply within me. Ever since I have been photographing people, and even before I realized I was practicing documentary or street photography, I had the sense that the act of me photographing a person does not make that person special; it is their presence in my photographs that makes the photographs special. In other words, human activity dignifies my photographs. Or, to put it another way: photographing humans and their activities (whether they are mundane or “ordinary”, or what we might call unusual or extraordinary) is not a way for me to “make them seem worthy or impressive” (one definition of dignify). Rather, the humans I photograph as they go about their so-called ordinary lives offer me the opportunity to produce worthy or impressive photographs. Of course, as I've said, the photographs are already worthy and impressive simply by virtue of the presence of humans and their activities in them.

This is not to say that my (or anyone’s) photographs are automatically “good” and that I can ignore the notion of applying skill, care and control in their production. In fact the contrary is true: in order to fulfill my responsibility to depict the people and their activities I photograph in a way that does justice to their presence in the photographs, I am obligated to do all I can to make the photo as good as it can be.

Many of you will have read or heard that I believe that there are no ordinary moments. This is, of course what Leonard is saying in the quote above. As I wander the streets and other public places in openness to receive images from my fellow humans, I see couples kissing or hugging, and couples fighting or looking glum; I see people working and people who are unemployed; I see people shopping or daydreaming at shop windows; I see parents caring lovingly for their children, and I see parents unhappy with their children for some reason or another; I see people smiling, crying, chatting, walking, talking. I see people with friends and I see people alone-and sometime people who are lonely. I see people slowly strolling and others rushing to or from somewhere. I've seen people being arrested, and I've seen others “resisting” arrest. I have seen joy and sorrow, laughter and tears. As well, I have experienced all kinds of emotions as I witness life on the streets.

Most of the human activities cited above would seem to the vast majority of us as ordinary, perhaps not noticed or worthy of note, as we go about our ordinary, and often busy, everyday lives. This is where I and others like me come in. It is the role of the humanist street photographer to, firstly, be open to seeing these fleeting moments that are quickly lost and gone forever for most of the people who experience them. Secondly, it is our job to bear witness. We do this by making photographs that are, not only of high technical and aesthetic quality, but that reflect an empathetic, compassionate and loving approach to the people photographed and to the moment itself.

For the humanist street photographer this has nothing to do with “taking” photos, or “stealing souls” or “capturing great shots” or any of the other junk and rubbish spouted noisily in the so–called street photography forums and blogs as well as on the websites of savvy social media marketing “togs” all over the internet.  For the Humanist street or social documentary photographer it is about being open to a connection and a sharing between ourselves and our fellow humans with whom we are fortunate enough to be experiencing those fleeting and so-called ordinary moments.

Ode to the Isle of Thanet: Street Photography from the streets of a forgotten island

For most of the winter of 2012/13 I lived on the Isle of Thanet, in Margate to be exact. Due to the cold, I wasn't out on the street that much, but I worked when I was able and when I was in the right mental space. 

Thanet is a beautiful area, but down on its luck as "they" say. Decaying infrastructure, increasingly scarce social and other services and a general lack of energy, will or attention on the part of government, all have led to the area being very depressed. 

So, a lovely part of the world, full of people who deserve better is being allowed to decay. 

This slideshow (produced and first published some time ago) of images made while I was there is dedicated to all the people of Thanet, including my son who lives there too. 

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.

BEING SEEN: Sometimes it Makes the Moment

Smiling for the Camera (Melbourne Australia June 2014)

One feature of my street and documentary work is that I don't go along with a lot of the current "wisdom" about how it's done, how to behave on the street and the rest. Of course, we are all unique beings and each need to learn our own way, all need to find our own way of living and our own vision.

Take this photo for an example. Made on my first outing into the CBD of Melbourne this week. I saw this couple who, when I looked, were in their own little world. I made one image. And, rather than walk quickly away (as per received wisdom) I walked just a couple of steps and I waited with the camera to my eye. Then they both turned and looked at me with these "poses" (sorry another bad word in some circles), and I just instinctively pressed the shutter. And, here you see the result: a lovely portrait of a couple happy with themselves and each other. And, importantly, with being photographed (oops, another myth: people hate being photographed).

The first image I made works too, I think. An unguarded moment that just asked to be preserved. Here it is:

A Loving Couple (Melbourne Australia June 2014)

Now, these photos are very different: in the second one, the couple is completely unaware (at least on a conscious level) of my presence; in the first they have actually seen me. And, yes, it is true to say that my presence and my camera has caused a changed in their behavior. They are in a sense posing for the camera.

So, they are different photos. But, is one better than the other? I don't mean in technical terms; that's an area for someone else to debate. You see, I don't believe for a minute that the first image here is more or less of a valuable human moment than the second, despite the second being the more "candid" one in the accepted sense.

I think candid is a misunderstood, or rather an incompletely understood, concept in today's world of street photography. The common perception is that it means that the subjects of a photograph are completely unaware of the camera's presence. Of course that definition is valid in itself, but, to look at the dictionary definitions of the word, then the meaning is not so black and white (no pun intended. But it is funny though LOL).

The Free Dictionary (which I like to use for obvious reasons) includes this:
Candid as an adjective means:
      1. frank; outspoken; open and sincere
      2. free from reservation, disguise, or subterfuge; straightforward
   

The definition also includes the idea of a candid photo being "unposed". And, it is true that these two struck a kind of pose when they saw me and my camera. So, for many the second image is a candid, while the first is not. Okay, they are posing. But, really, don't you think it's a frank and open one? Do they seem sincere to you? Do they look to you to be acting in an unreserved manner and do they appear to be free of disguise?  Have they taken what you wold think of as a straightforward pose?

The answer to all these questions for me is a big yes.

Also, and as importantly, my approach to this scene (as it usually is) was a candid one. It is I think a matter of one's intention. I mean by this that I don't intend to have people see me or pose or change their behavior.  My attitude and approach is frank and open; I do not hide; I do not engage in "stealthy" behavior or "subterfuge" of any kind. I always try to be straightforward in both my way of being in the street and in my dealings with the people who do see me, and most of the time they are the same with me! The bottom line is that I always endeavor to be frank, outspoken (as in honest and speaking my truth), open and sincere in the way I approach my work and the people I am fortunate enough to photograph.

Of course, this is all just my opinion. But, it is my way of working and it does, well, work pretty much all the time. I think today's two photographs both have something to offer.  Yes, they are different, but they are both candid in their own way. Anyway, isn't it our role as street and social documentary photographers to record the so-called ordinary people going about their so-called ordinary lives?

Well, I think it is.

Peace

PICK OF THE WEEK: My Work Goes On despite distractions

Hi everyone
This week's Pick is actually my Tumblr Pick of the Week from this week. I just felt that it is such an important post that I really needed to repeat it here on Instants Out of Time. Hope you don't mind!
As always I really do welcome your comments or feedback.

An Outstretched Hand Ignored (Ubud Bali Indonesia)

Our five weeks in Bali is rapidly drawing to an end. And I thought for this week’s pick I would just talk a little about some thoughts I’ve been having the last couple of days. You see, I have felt distracted here. Yes, I know it’s a funny word to use in the circumstances. I mean, here we are in Bali for crying out loud! It’s a beautiful place in so many ways; it’s given us so much to think about and it’s been overall a hugely interesting and valuable travel experience.

I find it hard to just have a “holiday”. I want to be out on the street working all the time. But as I’ve just said there is so much to see here and such colour to occupy the eye and mind that focusing on street photography has been just too difficult. I know, I really should have just said, “Hey, relax. You’re on vacation.” But there you are. I can’t and couldn’t. So I just did the best I could, and in the end I have managed the odd image that I think works.

Anyway, the thoughts I’ve been having about distractions. I have decided that I don’t really want to photograph pretty landscapes or other scenes. I don’t want to do flowers or trees or sea scenes or anything else. All I want to do, all I’m any good at all at, is humanist street and social documentary photography. You see, when I go out to the streets I want to just be there, and not looking around for the pretty scene, building, tree or statue or whatever else that isn't about the people and life there and then.

I’ve found it’s pretty much impossible to do justice to my work or even to whatever it is that distracts me when I am not focused on the work. And, at the end of the day, that’s the point really. The work I do is too important to allow it to be diluted by a wandering eye and mind that is distracted by other things. I do not suggest that those other things are “bad” or it’s wrong to photograph them. Not at all. There are so many wonderful and talented photographers who show us every day what a wonderfully beautiful world we live in with their landscapes, nature photographs, and the rest. I for one am grateful to them all.

My role however, is as a street and social documentary photographer. I am rededicating myself to my work and my aspiration to become good at what I do.

The photo I have chosen for this week’s pick is stark and dramatic.  It is a market scene that could be anywhere in the world. But it happens to be in Ubud in Bali. I will let it speak for itself.

Peace

Ron Corbin: Street Photographer of the Lost Angels of the Streets

Before tonight I had never heard of Ron Corbin. I can't believe that I haven't come across him or his work before.  Such an angel of a human being, he deserves to be known universally. A humble and compassionate person, Corbin is a street photographer of a special kind. His images are not "pretty"; he says so himself. He photographs people in deep distress, caused by substance abuse, street life and the horrors that go with those things. There is beauty here despite the ugliness. It is the beauty that resides in the essence of life, in the souls of us all, regardless of the lives we've lived or are living. 

Anyway, I won't detract from this marvellous work by prattling on. You will perhaps be shocked by what you see on this video, but you will be the better for it. I've been humbled tonight, watching Mr Corbin speak and looking closely at his photographs. He photographs the people most of us prefer not to see and from whom we turn away. 

For Corbin street photography is not about the hunt, it's not about stealing souls or capturing a quirky or cool scene. For him it is about making a record of those invisible people, angels lost in the wasteland of alcohol, drugs, prostitution. In other words, lives lived on the street. I know it's trite and such a "cliché" these days but I truly believe there is something amiss in our world when the atrocities you will see hinted at here are allowed to continue. It is also a sin (in the real sense of the word) that we idolise and reward people for being nasty, competitive, vain and "hard", but ignore truly compassionate artists such as Ron Corbin. He struggles "from pay check to pay check" while talentless "celebs" get rich from their five minutes on "reality" television. No justice there is there?

I offer this video in the hope it will be watched by many and that those who watch it will be inspired to do something. Anything at all, but something

Peace to you all

paul