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.

Once More Unto the Beach Paul's Pictures Does Go: About Tidal Pools (AKA Rock Baths)

Being Seen in the Tidal Pool (Sydney May 2015)

Tidal pools, rock baths, ocean pools and bogey holes. These are just some of the names used to describe the outdoor swimming pools built on or into the coastline in Australia. Not common in other states, most of these pools are to be found in the eastern state of New South Wales, and especially in Sydney. Oh, and some people just call them swimming pools, or simply The pool. And bogey hole? Well that's easy: it refers to the less formal, less "built" holes in the rocks in which people like to swim. 

And people do indeed like to swim in these rock baths (that's what Sydneysiders call them, and as I am at least for now a local, I'm allowed to use the name) in great numbers and all year round as well. 

Kate Rew who founded the Outdoor Swimming Society in 2006 in the UK and went on to write a bestselling book called Wild Swim: River, Lake, Lido and Sea: The Best Places to Swim Outdoors in Britain (Guardian Books, London. ISBN 978-0-85265-093-6) defines wild swimming as:

swimming in any environment less subject to human control than an indoor public pool

She would approve of the multitude of places in Sydney where one can indulge in wild swimming in relative safety. The rock baths are open to the sea in all its moods (and they do front directly onto the huge expanse of the Pacific Ocean which can throw up its share of big waves and winds); swimmers are exposed to the sun, the sky and are right near or even on, the beach. The saltwater which washes into the pools (and has been known to wash swimmers out of the pools) is stimulating and healthy. 

And they are not only recreational: many of the pools host amateur swimming clubs which hold how to swim classes, social events and swimming carnivals. Water Polo was for a long time played in many of these pools, and diving competitions were held, though diving boards have been removed in more recent times as fear of law suits and insurance claims have scared local authorities into submission.

The pools are credited with being the cradle of the surf lifesaving movement in Australia. The skills acquired in the early days (rock baths began operating in the mid to late 19th Century) from activities such as diving, endurance swimming and in water sports like Water Polo, were seen as essential to the development of techniques used to save lives in rough waters

As surprising as it might sound to many, until relatively recently mixed open air bathing on beaches in Australia was forbidden. There were designated hours for men and for women and this rule was usually strictly enforced. In the late 19th and early 20th century a few entrepreneurs began to open pools which, though still segregated, were open all the time.

The pool in the image above is called Wylie's Baths at Coogee and it started life as a men only (the women had a pool at the other end of the beach which is more of a natural formation and is still there as well) pay as you go pool in 1907. Over time as beach bathing became more popular, there was a corresponding growing acceptance of mixed bathing (mainly due to safety concerns), Then, at a date I have been unable to determine, Wylie's became the fist ocean pool to offer mixed and family bathing. 

Ocean pools, rock baths, and even some of the bogey holes, are seen as relatively safe, family friendly venues for recreational swimming, as places to meet friends and even learn to swim. They have not only been a part of Australia beach culture for many decades, but have been pivotal in the very development of that culture. We also owe a great deal to these pools for their role in the development of the wonderful system of surf lifesaving clubs: According to the Surf Life Saving site, 615,000 people have been saved from drowning since this almost entirely volunteer movement started up in 1907 (that breaks down to about 17 lives saved every single day for 107 and a bit years Think about that.) 

Today, even as the temperature hovered only in the high teens (centigrade) Wylie's was still attracting swimmers, though I have to say, most people I saw could better be defined as poolside chatters (most fully equipped with coffee cups), with only a few actually jumping in.

The Tale of the Man with his Head in the Wishing Well

The Hand that Gives, Gathers (Sydney May 2015)

Now, as you may have heard me say before, I don't believe there are any ordinary moments, and you've probably read that I don't go searching for the surreal, or quirky or humorous moments either. However, every now and again, I witness something that just calls to me: "I'm surreal, I'm quirky, I'm anything but ordinary". Of course, as to that last one, I see those special things all the time, but stay with me on this one please.

One such surreal moment caught my eye yesterday in the centre of Sydney. A guy with his head down in a fountain. Obviously looking for something? Maybe. I will leave that up to you.

The fountain is actually a wishing well, and the statue of the dog is called The Legend of Islay. Let me quote the inscription (copied from Monuments Australia) so you know what it's about:

 The Legend of Islay

Islay was a favourite pet of Queen Victoria. Whenever he saw the royal mistress he would sit up and beg for a biscuit. He was often sketched and painted both by Queen Victoria and Sir Edwin Landseer, her painting master. The bronze sculpture by Justin Robson was modelled from a sketch drawn by Queen Victoria in 1842. Now over a century later, Islay is begging hopefully for a coin to help deaf and blind children of New South Wales. Islay died 26th April 1844 and buried in Adelaide Cottage, Windsor Castle.

Interesting eh? But, wait, there's more: The dog talks. Yes, a talking dog. And, naturally, someone has put a video online demonstrating him doing just that:

Even more interesting don't you think? The voice belongs to John Laws, the famous and notorious (in the opinion of some) radio shock jock who has been heard on Australian radio for as long as I remember (some might say too long). 

And, for a bit more: There is a stone on the front of the monument that comes from the battlements of Blarney Castle in Ireland. The plaque reads: "Touch the Stone from Blarney Castle, make a wish, and cast a coin".  

A it says above, donations go to the Royal NSW Institute for Deaf and Blind Children (where in a tangential and odd twist my father once worked as what they called the Bursar, or in real terms the manager of the facility).

I find this all fascinating and as a real treasured bonus to my work as a street and social documentary photographer. A surreal moment in a busy little square, that in fact reveals a story. Not necessarily the story we might all be wondering about: What's the guy doing? But an interesting one nonetheless. 

PS The title of the photo is from one of the inscriptions on the monument which you can see is in a number of languages.

The Rubik's Cube on a Beach Down Under

Rubix No Mystery for Local Surfer Boys (Sydney Australia May 2015)

No, your eyes do not deceive you. This is a giant Rubic's cube. On a beach. An Australian beach called Maroubra. Well, it's also the name of the suburb and right now we are staying about a kilometer from the beach. Maroubra is a word from the language of the Dharwahal Nation, the Indigenous people who lived in this area for many thousands of years prior to the European invasion and means place of thunder. A fitting name in a lot of ways: we've had some tremendous storms since we arrived here a couple of weeks ago. 

This over-sized Rubik's cube is something of a mystery (hence my title. Inspired huh?). The structure itself is the cover of a storm water drain. On a morning in 2009 locals taking their daily strolls noticed that overnight the plain concrete cube had acquired the look you see here. 

Of course it's been guessed that some time during the night preceding that fateful day, local artists made their way to this beautiful beach and did the deed. Naturally nobody has ever come forward to claim the work as their own; nor have investigations by the media and various other people, uncovered any clues.

So, it remains a mystery to this day. It is also a quirky addition to the beachscape and a colorful sight to behold. It also seems to be a favorite meeting point and even climbing apparatus if my observations today are anything to go by. Whoever painted it, the cube is an excellent example of how public art can improve what local governments like to call the amenity of a space. Color, humor, mystery. All in a what was once simply an unattractive block of concrete. 

Peace

Centuries Old Artistic Tradition Enriching the Streets of a 21st Century City

The Sun Shines Upon the Artist (Sydney Australia May 2015)

In the city of Sydney there is a train station (and ferry terminal) called Circular Quay. And in that station there is a platform with a view that just has to be the best view from a train station anywhere in the world. Well, I am sure it's up there anyway. Anyway, today, as I looked at the view, I saw a scene that really added that something extra and it was right below me on the quayside pavement.

Pepe Gaka is a pavement artist, or as they are called in Italy (Pepe is originally from Turin) madonarri. I had never heard this term until today when I read Pepe's signs. So, I looked it up on Wikipedia and here's what I learned:

The Italian Madonnari have been traced to the sixteenth century. They were itinerant artists, many of whom had been brought into the cities to work on the huge cathedrals. When the work was completed, they needed to find another way to make a living, and thus often would recreate the paintings from the church onto the pavement. Aware of festivals and holy days held in each province and town, they traveled to join in the festivities to make a living from observers who would throw coins if they approved of the artist's work. For centuries, many Madonnari were folk artists, reproducing simple images with crude materials such as tiles, coal, and chalk. Others, such as El Greco, would go on to become household names.

Interesting stuff don't you think? And to say that Pepe's work is absolutely stunning does little to convey its beauty and extraordinary technical quality. And this artist is not only talented, he spends his spare time volunteering as an art teacher, gives away completed works to charities and is, in the next couple of months, headed off on a world journey that will take a few years and see him travel around Australia and New Zealand, to several Asian countries, to Canada and the US, before heading for Europe. 

Pepe makes his living from donations from passersby who appreciate his work, just like all the madonnari before him. It's a fine tradition, and one that is alive and well on the streets of this modern and cosmopolitan city thanks to this fine artist.

You can find Pepe Gaka at the following places online:

Facebook

Instagram

Twitter

His own site

Or, if you're really lucky, you can find him most weekends at Circular Quay in Sydney. Either way, make sure you check him out; you won't regret it

PS: I'm hoping to post more photos, and perhaps a short video, I am planning on making from that train platform. So, stay tuned!

Peace