Street Writings: Vol 1 Reflections on Street Photography

Street Writings Volume I

Reflections on Street Photography: ideas, thoughts, insights, gathered over many years from photographing on many streets

Paul S Donohoe (AKA Paul's Pictures)

(And a Short Intro) Namaste and welcome. Thank you for checking out this, my latest ebook. If you've seen my other ones, welcome back, and if you're new, welcome!

This time I don't want to take up your time with a long introduction. So, I will just say is that this ebook is the first volume in a planned series of ebooks of my writings on street photography.

In a nutshell my street photography has always been about being as fully present in the street (or other public space) as possible, to meet with other people there and sometimes photograph them as they went about their daily activities.

I would wander in the street with eyes and heart open, and with as clear a mind as possible. I would allow images to come to me, scenes to manifest themselves, and when the feeling was right, I'd raise the camera to my eye and make a picture.

Topics covered here vary, but all have in common that they are based on lessons learned from my time on the street, as well as from other areas of my spiritual practice. You see, for me, street photography is a special kind of spiritual practice: I get to share moments with other people who, like me, have all the usual hangups, fears, joys and sorrows, stresses, and complications in life. As you will read in a couple of places, Love, Compassion, and Empathy are my guides in my art and in my life.

Anyway, I promised a short introduction, so I will hand this ebook over to you. I hope you find something to enlighten your day or that gives you something to think about. The words you will read come from a labour of love, and I hope that you will pick up some of that vibe along the way.

Oh, before you go, a quick word about copyright and cost. There are none. Like all I create, this ebook is offered free of charge and free of any other restrictions. It's what I do: make photos, write, and sometimes make other kinds of art, in order to share them with the world, which is of course you!

All the many hundreds, even thousands, of people who invited me into their lives for so many moments over so many years, on so many streets.

These thoughts, insights, ideas, beliefs, bits of knowledge, opinions, none of them would have been possible without you Thank you

I'm Saying Nothing

Street Photography is about (in part) the recording and sharing of supposedly ordinary moments when people are doing 'ordinary' things: talking, walking, working, or engaged I some other ordinary activity.

Anything that constitutes daily life.

Just like the couple in the photo. Clearly they are sharing a joke. The guy is keeping his mouth firmly closed while the woman is having a good laugh. Probably at his expense.

Is she teasing him? Is he keeping quiet about something she's anxious to hear? Are they on the way to a surprise that she's trying to tease out of him? Whatever is going on, this is one of those ordinary moments that has transcended itself: it is no longer

ordinary; it is special.

Special because it's clearly an intimate moment being shared by these two. Special, too, because it opens up to us, the viewers, all sorts of possibilities. We can guess what is going on, what the joke might be, and why the guy is keeping quiet. And, in that guessing, we put our own interpretations onto this lovely image and insert ourselves into this intimate scene. We bring to the viewing and reflection on the scene our own histories, memories, dreams, fantasies. Our own ideas and projections.

But, does this mean we are changing the 'reality' of this scene? No, I don't think it does. There is a limit to what the camera can record of any scene.

In this particular picture, it has recorded a visual representation of these two at this moment and it can only really record what it 'sees', as a still camera must.

We can't hear the conversation; we don't know what's just happened or what will happen in the moments after the image is made. When you think about it, it is pretty much required that we bring some kind of interpretation to this, or any other, photograph if we are to work out what is, or might be, going on.

Whatever we project onto the scene in this photograph, whatever stories we come up with, will contribute to the creation of a new or other reality.

But, as I just said, it by no means takes away from the 'true' reality of the moment this image represents (any photo is of course only a representation of what is photographed; it is not the thing itself). You could say that our viewing of this or any other photograph simply adds layers of meaning.

I realize, of course, I am saying nothing new here. This concept of 'we all bring our own interpretations to the viewing of a

photograph' is well known. I guess what I am saying is this: it's okay to add our own layers of meaning, even to a photograph of a so-called ordinary moment in the lives of so-called ordinary people.

And it doesn't really matter if those layers of meaning have little or no relationship to whatever the 'true reality' of that moment might be. This opportunity to create new meanings is one of the great gifts that street photography offers to us all, whether we are the ones making the photos, appearing in them, or those viewing them. Perhaps most especially to the viewer.

There is one condition we should place on this all being okay: Any new layer of meaning we add to an image, any new reality we attribute to a photograph, must be done with a good heart. The process must be imbued with a spirit of goodwill. Or, to put it another way: the viewing and interpretation of a street photograph should be informed by Love, Compassion, and Empathy.

Here's another example. What's the story here? Are these guys praying? Are they tourists having a closer look?

Actually, they were making a video on a phone. And that brings up even more questions: Why? What's the story of their video? All sorts of possible meanings. It's up to you.

At the Alter with Jesus

Camera Shy?

There are two questions that have always been a trigger for discussion and the odd heated debate in Street Photography circles (actually there are loads of such questions but for the moment we'll stick to two): Do people object to being photographed?

Are we invading their privacy/space?

Good questions. And we all need to think about them. Not just once: we need to continue to reflect on these and other questions as the world changes, as we change. It's the artist's duty.

Now, in this photograph we see three young women in school uniforms.

Two are hiding behind an umbrella, and a third, who has a smile on her face, peeks out from behind her hand. Sort of hiding, sort of not.

In fact, the two hiding behind the umbrella were also laughing. So, as I moved to make the photograph, I made the judgement that they weren’t really hiding. They were just fooling around. So I pressed the shutter.

Of course, most people I photograph don’t actually see me, so how can I know whether they would object to being photographed? I do not have the simplistic approach of: 'if they don’t object, they are agreeing', that would make it very easy to do pretty much anything I pleased. I don’t hold at all with that idea. In my view it is unethical and wrong.

No, it’s more subtle than that. It's about intuition and being fully present in the moment. If I am truly right there and then (as I like to say) I just know if a person would object or would approve of being photographed.

The great humanist photographer and poet (among many other things) Abraham Menashe talks about waiting to 'be invited' to make the photograph. It’s about being there as I say, right in the moment and suspending judgement, and waiting.

I can’t count the number of times when I’ve put the camera to my eye, framed what looks like a great photograph of a person who hasn’t seen me, only to put the camera down again. I usually don’t know why; it just happens that way. I haven’t been invited. At some level, that person and I have connected and they haven’t invited me; they haven't given me permission to make aphotograph.

In this image it was an easy decision; the choice obvious. It isn’t always so. But, If I am fully present, suspend judgement and

approach the work with compassion, love and empathy, then usually the answer makes itself known. Do I always get it right? Of course not. But, like everything else in life, it is one’s intention that is of key importance.

And with practice comes more and more success and the joy of a shared moment between me and the people I photograph, whether they 'know' I’m there or not.

No doubt you've noticed the little thumbnails scattered here and there. I would see people writing on the street quite often, as well as interesting writings on walls! So, a brief word on each of those included here.

I met this person on the street one day. He looked up from his writing, smiled at me, then turned back to his work

This was written beside a cafe menu.

An apology for the writer's poor handwriting? (Way better than mine!)

A fellow journaller on a chilly winter day. I like to think she's looking at me and my camera with curiosity.

She also smiled!

This is Georgia. She spends her days observing the world as it passes by and 'sketches' in words what she sees, what she feels.

Her writing read & felt like Kerouac.

Hello My Darling

I wonder how many of you know that I am a poet. Well, I'm not really; let's just say I occasionally write poems. I might go a year with no poems appearing, and, then, as happened a while back, I will write one a day for several days in a row.

Anyway, mid way through that poetic surge, I was reflecting in my journal on one of the emerged masterpieces, and I found myself writing that I was really quite pleased with the poem and how I expressed some real feelings in the piece and that it contained some really nice images (of the wordy variety that is).

I stopped writing at that point. Then I started writing again. Here’s what I wrote: I'm really struggling to come to a point where I do all my creative work and especially my photography simply because it is what I want to do, and to let go of any expectations of it being liked by anyone else or commented on or whatever. I am trying to realise that my role is to create and to share. That is all Then I stopped again. After a few moments, I wrote in bigger letters and in the middle of the page:

Create and share that which has been created Okay, it’s not a new idea, this 'do your art because it’s what you want to do and don’t worry about the reactions of others' principle. I'm sure you've heard the same thing many times, but it’s an idea worth talking about again; it’s a reminder to self (and maybe to others?) that it is why one does something that matters most.

Although of course, being human it’s always nice when people approve of what one does. I guess it’s about not worrying overly much about what other people think. It’s about not thinking about what’s popular, what gets the most “Likes” and the rest.

So, that’s what I'm trying to do in my photography (in my life too): make the photos I want, for the reasons I want to make them. I always aspire to make my photos the best I can, just as I always try to have the best possible reasons or motives for making them.

In a sense, once I have done my best to send them out into the world, I have no control over what impact (or lack of impact) my photos have.

Same goes for what I write or anything else I do..

Anyway, I am glad my sub-conscious presented me with a new mantra.

Since that fateful day when I wrote these words in big letters in the middle of the page so no future historian could possibly miss it, I have tried to live up to their ideal. Still working on it, but as they say, I'm gettin' there.

Create and share that which has been created

The Gods of Art at Work

Meet Wayne. Wayne sleeps rough and in shelters for homeless people.

He is a gifted & generous artist. Always ready for a chat, or to show you his art, demonstrate his way of painting - and he really knows what he's talking about. We used to help him out with supplies sometimes, but he never took too much. He said having much of anything made him a target for theft.

Haves & Have Nots

Dorothea Lange began her photographic career as a portrait photographer to the high society and arty types of San Francisco. But her growing awareness of the Great Depression and the social inequities that went along with it, as well as the rampant capitalism of the times (sound familiar?) increasingly disturbed her. She started to think about how she could use her camera to try to change things, to bring awareness of poverty and injustice to the power elites and to the decision makers.

With that in mind, she ventured out into the streets with her camera. At first she was nervous about invading people’s privacy; she expected hostility from people she photographed in the street without ‘permission’.

She was surprised to find that, if people actually noticed her at all, they didn’t mind her making a photo of them.

On reading the marvelous Dorothea Lange: A Life Beyond Limits by historian Linda Gordon, I was so interested to read about Dorothea’s first forays into the streets. Let me quote a little from the book. After the author speaks about Lange’s nervousness and surprise at how welcome (and safe) she felt while photographing in the streets, she says: On such reassurance her whole photographic future rested.’

She then goes on to quote Lange herself: I can only say I knew I was looking at something. … Sometimes you have an inner sense that you have encompassed the thing … You know then that you are not taking anything away from anyone, their privacy, their dignity, their wholeness.’

Of course we know that in that future Lange went on to produce some of the most important and iconic photographs of all time. She did more than this: she produced tens of thousands of photographs, interviews, notes and books that played a pivotal role in bringing services and help to many thousands of people badly affected by the Great Depression in the United States.

In these ways she played a significant role in recording the social and economic as well as the human history of that dark period.

And, on top of all this, I was surprised to learn in this book that she was instrumental in the staging of the ground-breaking Family of Man exhibition in 1955 at the Museum of Modern Art in New York.

What is that 'something' she knew she was ‘looking at’? What was the ‘thing’ she had a sense that she’d encompassed? Answer these two questions and we will understand why she believed (as I do) that she was taking nothing from the people she photographed.

That ‘something’ she was looking at was, I believe, real people going about their real lives in the street. Remember, she had been a high end portrait photographer posing her sitters in high fashion for photographs that were for display in their mansions. Now, suddenly, she was observing ordinary people. On top of that, many of those she saw and photographed were out of work and destitute. Many roamed the streets dressed in ragged clothes looking for work or lining up for relief or a free or cheap meal. This was real life and not the artifice of high society portrait making.

And that ‘thing’ she felt she’d encompassed? I think this was that knowing street photographers sometimes have when they feel they've recorded that mostly invisible essence of a person, what they are feeling or experiencing. Perhaps it's also how we feel on those rare occasions when we have been able to discover a more universal truth in the person and the scene we are photographing.

All (or at least some of the more sensitive) street photographers will know that it is when they are relaxed and feeling ‘okay’ with the environment they’re in and the vibe of the street, that they are more likely to have these glimpses of ‘something’. The fact that Lange felt welcome and safe and experienced little or no hostility, suggests to me that there was a ‘meeting’ of photographer and photographee. It is in this meeting that we realize nothing is being taken from the people photographed. There has been no invasion,

no taking away of dignity. Both the photographer and the photographed come away from this meeting whole and having lost nothing.

For me this meeting of equals, a meeting in which nothing is taken but much is given, is a vital element in my work as a social documentary and street photographer. For me it is a sharing, the sharing of a moment that by all the usual definitions would be called ‘ordinary’. But, as you will have read elsewhere, I don’t believe that there are any ordinary moments.

In the moments I share with the people I photograph, I hope to experience a glimpse, at least sometimes, of that ‘something' Dorothea Lange talks about. It’s in those moments that I know I am witness to something unique and special and far from ordinary.

A camera is a tool for learning to see without a camera Dorothea Lange

In the Bus Queue

I've learned a new word: sonder. It's an invented word. Or, rather, it is a word that has an invented meaning. A little research led me to the source for this word: 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. 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 suddrenly realize that others, friends or strangers, are just like us with the same worries, loves, fears, joys, heartaches, responsibilities and complicated lives.

But what really impressed me was how this word, this concept, relates to street photography. Another way to put the lengthy definition above is to say sonder means empathy; it means feeling with our fellow travelers 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.

Outside Looking In

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'll leave you with a quote from a great humanist photographer 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 Abraham Menashe

Doin' the Busstop Boogie

For a long time now I've been concerned about the language of photography. I don't mean here the ability of a photograph to communicate an idea or story. No, I'm referring to the language we use to talk about things photographic. There's a school of thought (of which I am a member) that asserts that the language we use is

aggressive and violent. I would add one more word to these two: acquisitive. Let me try to explain.

What do we say to describe what we have done when we press the shutter of a camera? Usually it will be something like, 'I've taken a photo', or if you are a little more posh you might say, 'I've captured a lovely scene'.

What about if you’ve been out with your camera for the day and a friend asks about your day. 'Great, I got some terrific shots', might be your answer. And, my favorite: you post a photo in an online gallery or group and one or more of your fellow onliners says something like, 'Wow. What a shot. You really nailed him/her/it didn't you?

By now you're probably starting to where I'm going with this: taken, shot, captured, nailed. All rather harsh words aren't they? And really, are they accurate or appropriate words for describing what we do as photographers? Look at the image above for example. It's a fun photo of a couple who, while waiting for the bus, spontaneously began a lively dance routine. When I asked them why they were dancing, the guy said, 'well we like dancing, so why not?' Good answer! So, what do I say about this? I could say something like, 'I took this shot on the weekend, and I think I've really captured the souls of these people, and I've really nailed the couple having fun, don't you think? I reckon this shot justifies the effort I made to go shooting that day.' Oh, sorry, I forgot to mention that Busstop Boogie on that day I was really hunting people toDoin' takethe some good street shots.

This all sounds rather unpleasant, don't you think? Of course, don't get me wrong: I'm as guilty as the next 'shooter' of using this kind of language (though I try hard to break the old language habits).

Of course this is the language photographers have been using from the very beginning of the medium. However, I think, that the time has come for a thoughtful conversation on whether we should continue The Photographer & His Minder

using this language or whether we should begin to look at the true nature of our craft or art, and adopt more appropriate words to describe what it is we do and how we do what we do.

Shoot is, I suppose, one of the main offenders. To shoot someone or something is quite a violent act; it's a term which is also associated with the use of a gun. A most violent instrument and certainly nothing like a camera surely?

Doin' the Busstop Boogie Do we really 'shoot' with a camera? Do we really 'go shooting' with a camera? Is a person using a camera really a 'shooter'? I think that on the whole there would be few photographers who would seek to harm their subjects with their cameras, so maybe shoot is not the right word for us to be using. At its very mildest a word like ’shoot’

just speaks of aggression. Perhaps we could simply say 'I'm going to do some photography' or 'I'm going to spend the day photographing'? To me it does seem a little awkward to speak in this way at first, and it will to you as well, but it really does sound a whole lot better and more accurate than 'I'm going shooting in the street today.' When I think about it, this sounds weird and wrong.

I added acquisitive as a third way to describe the language we use in the photographic world. Words like take and capture (whether used as verbs or nouns) speak of acquiring or stealing or even kidnapping or taking prisoners.

Of course we are doing none of those things with our cameras. I've seen online photography groups or individual photographers saying that as street photographers they 'snatch souls'.?

This language speaks of what we either can do to our subjects, or of what we can obtain from them. I am beginning to think it might be time for us to explore new ways of talking about our art (or craft. More linguistically loaded words) that speak more to what the people we photograph give to us, and what we can offer to them. I think there is a lot for us to think about here.

Many of us seek to find that decisive moment (thank you Mr CartierBresson), that fleeting gesture, glance, smile or whatever it is that has inspired us to focus (not aim) our attention and camera towards a potential 'subject'. But whose moment isDoin' it? Whose gesture do we watch the Busstop Boogie for? Whose smile? The answer is obvious: none of these things belong to us, they belong to the people we are photographing.

There is no doubt that the changing of a language, an integral component of any culture, in this case the culture of image making with a camera (AKA photography), will be no easy task. I do not judge others for using those bolded and italicised words; I use them myself. After all, we have to use a common language if we are going to understand our peers or be understood by them.

But I am trying to come up with new words. Like, 'I've been making photos today', rather than taking them; or 'I really think I've managed to connect with that person I photographed.' rather than capturing him or her; or 'I would love to photograph wildlife', rather than wanting to shoot animals.

Even the Press Has to Rest Sometimes

And that word nailed is for me truly problematic. I don't have to learn a new word to use in its stead: I've never used it to refer to photography or anything else other than carpentry or woodwork. It has other connotations which I have also never liked. Just goes to highlight even more clearly the importance of language and how we use it.

In recent times I've seen little hints of change. Not many, but change is often slow and rarely easy is it? It is time for a new way of speaking about what we do as photographers. We really need to be speaking about what we do in language that does honor to, and speaks accurately about this great art of photography.

But I'm just a soul whose intentions are good Oh lord please don't let me be misunderstood Thank you to Eric Burdon & The Animals for the snippet of lyrics from one of your great tunes.

Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood And for the title I borrowed and paraphrased rather freely a quote from the timeless play by Mr William Shakespeare: Romeo & Juliet Thank you. I didn't think you'd mind and I think you might even approve

There is one thing that photography must contain: the humanity of the moment. This kind of photography is realism. But realism is not enough; there has to be vision, and the two together can make a good photograph.

Robert Frank

An Outstretched Hand Ignored

What exactly is Frank saying here? I think, put simply, he is telling us that for a photo to be potentially successful, it must contain not only a moment of the life of the person or people being photographed, but it must also contain something of humanity as it was expressed in that moment. I say this because I believe Frank was one of the outstanding Humanist Photographers of all time

and always sought to reveal the humanity present in the moments he photographed We see a lot of Street photography that clearly is made with the intention of producing a kind of technically correct 'product'. And of course we do have to have some technical expertise and aspirations for our photography.

But oftentimes we try so hard to copy the styles of the 'masters', or the latest 'trends' in street photography, or to get our heads around 'zone focus', or 'depth of field' and 'bokeh' and the rest, that we, either lose sight of the vision we brought to street photography in the first place, or we deny ourselves the opportunity to develop our own unique vision and voice.

But even worse than all this in my opinion is we deny ourselves the opportunity to celebrate the humanity in the moments we are so fortunate to share with the people we photograph. At the same time we disrespect and objectify those people; we begin to treat them as simply one more (but not any more special than any other) element in our photos.

I'm not saying that people in our photos are not to be considered as compositional, aesthetic or narrative elements; what I am saying is that at least for me, people must be the primary element.

Or to put it more precisely: in order to inject humanity into our photos we have to make the moment as the people in our photos are living it the focus and the most important consideration when we make a photograph.

Not all my photos are 'tack sharp', not all my photos are composed

in accordance with the Rule of Thirds or the Golden Mean.

Lens aperture, shutter speed, focus, and other technical choices, are only important to the extent that they allow me to show the people and the moment I photograph in the best light (to coin a phrase). No need to go on: I'm sure you get the picture (get it? picture? haha) At the end of the day it comes down to finding a balance: My choice is to work towards a balance that favors the humans and their lived experience in my street photos, while still making a photo that is as technically good as I’m able. As Robert Frank says ‘… realism is not enough; there has to be vision’.

Drinking Fountain

Thank you for making it this far. You've probably worked out by now that Street Photography is important to me. Serious business as they say (whoever they are). For me it's a special vocation, a calling if you like.

It involves a sacred trust that I have always taken very much to heart.

Street Photography brings with it the same sorts of responsibilities and obligations that come with, say wedding or portrait photography.

I don't need to say a lot here; what appears in this book stands as testimony of my philosophy and approach to the work.

You will have read a few times that Love, Compassion, and Empathy are my guiding principles. I could add honesty, integrity, a high ethical standard when dealing with people, whether they are conscious of my presence (and my camera's) or not.

I hope you have enjoyed my writings here. I am planning at least a couple more volumes to follow this one.

Because I have been so passionate about Street Photography over a long period of time, I have thought deeply about many aspects of the genre.

What you've read is a kind of summary or ongoing reflection on that thinking.

Thank you for your time and please feel free to contact me.

Peace and love to you from me.

paulspictures242@gmail.com