If there’s a challenge in selecting the best images from a day’s shoot, then that challenge is amplified when it comes to actively curating a huge body of work into something coherent and presentable.
Recently, the more I study my photographs, the more I feel that bokeh is cheating me out of a more substantial image. I really like photographs with a lot of visual complexity -- well presented, not chaotic, but a clear arrangement of multiple elements.
The ability for individual photographers to have any kind of cultural impact feels diminished and diluted when you consider just how many are working towards the goal of producing meaningful work.
While teaching a recent workshop, I joked that street photography was the only genre where people would buy $3,000 worth of cameras and lenses and then deliberately use them to make out of focus, grainy, imperfect images. This led to a pretty interesting discussion about the merits to imperfection.
Discussing what makes a “photographic” photograph can seem like a bit of a tautology, but I think that my understanding of what I’m trying to achieve with my photographs has been helped by this idea.
It’s very easy to get stuck in grooves in photography, to find something that makes sense or comes from a position of authority; once habits are formed around ideas about genre, style, or technique, it can be very difficult to break out of those constraints.
One of the byproducts of the new-wave approach to street photography, which champions anonymity, mystery, and a cinematic aesthetic, is that there is an absolute abundance of images featuring silhouetted figures and shadow play. These are the kind of images I started off creating, and there are some fantastic artists who have utilized this style over the years, my favorite of these being Fan Ho, one of the classic progenitors of this style.
There is an excellent quote regarding practice attributed to legendary martial artist Bruce Lee that I think provides a great framework for many pursuits but also highlights one of my earliest struggles with ideas around “style” in photography: “I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once, but I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times.”
There seems to be a trend in current photography goals to achieve a “look” to one's work. I feel this is a short-sighted goal, and that a consistent aesthetic is more the result of careful curation of a large body of work, rather than something that ought to be deliberately achieved.
When I’m out photographing, my concentration is on making individual frames that matter, working the scene with my eye before shooting, and staying patient for the right moment. I’m not averse to taking multiple frames of the same scene, but I find it’s a better use of my time and film to put the work into getting things right the first time.
There are so many factors to potentially juggle for any given street/documentary situation that eye contact for me tends to fall a bit to chance -- if it happens it happens and if it doesn’t it doesn’t. It is rarely something I feel makes or breaks an image, but more frequently I’ve been thinking about what specific function working to achieve (or deliberately avoid) eye contact could offer to my photographs.
I think that one of the hardest elements to incorporate in a street photograph is humor. Unlike other themes in street photography, I think that naturally occurring “funny” scenes are harder to stumble across, as they often involve a lot of interpretation and may involve playing with elements in the composition rather than being able to rely on finding a scene that is funny “as it is.”
Whenever I travel for photography, there’s a real sense of anticipation for the scenarios I might face, the feeling that the next great moment is just around the corner. As a street and documentary photographer, my intention when traveling is not to see “the sights”, or to eat the foods, or to hear the music -- instead, it is specifically to meet the people and see what aspects of myself exist in foreign situations.
I've noticed that a commonly used compliment for street photographs is to describe them as "timeless." My interpretation of this is that it is used to mean that there are characteristics of the image which in some way transcend the boundaries of the context it was made in and can exist almost in its own context, its own space.
Well-curated portfolios can be some of the most powerful tools available to a photographer looking to efficiently communicate what they’re about to potential clients and customers. The classic portfolio is a physical book of prints, maybe 10-20 total, often accompanied by a declaration of intent in writing or in person if being showcased at an actual critique session.
Conversations around photographic style have always felt a little odd to me for a few reasons. It’s something I get asked about a lot by my students, as they feel that without a style, a visual signature, then they will find it very difficult to differentiate themselves from other working artists.
Shooting a long term project, whether personal or professional, is a wonderful way to explore areas of photography you might not have previously considered. I know of photographers who have experimented with different types of filters, post-processing techniques, actual shooting methods (long exposure, panning, unfamiliar/conventional focal lengths), and so on, as their projects evolve.
Before my recent trip to India, I had a lot of conflicting thoughts regarding the gear I wanted to take. My entire purpose for traveling was to make photographs, so I wanted to shape my kit into the most efficient setup possible.
It’s been around a year since I switched to photographing on 35mm film for the majority of my work. Beyond a couple of false starts and some misconceptions, I think I’ve adjusted well, and I’m really happy to have made the change. Now that I have a good amount of work to reference, I’ve been thinking a lot about some of the adjustments I needed to make in order to adapt to a film mindset.
One of the most unintentionally useful influences on my photography has turned out to be the time I’ve spent playing computer games. Some photographers use cinema as a learning tool to observe the way cinematographers and DOP’s use their cameras to capture a scene. This can be a great source of inspiration, but I think it can lead to some photographers heading out and seeking to recreate shots or aesthetic styles (color palette, depth of field, grain, etc) rather than capturing anything unique for them.
It can be very easy to arbitrarily limit oneself by genre; I think the effect this has on the mindset of a photographer can potentially really damage the quality of the work they look to produce.
Introduced in 1988, the Nikon F4 was the world’s first professional autofocus camera, and it made its way quickly into the hands of many working photographers. But despite the incredible leap in technology it represented, it was apparently quickly overtaken by the competition, which built on the solid foundation the F4 offered.
The black and white aesthetic can sometimes be a contentious issue among photographers. The decision to shoot monochromatic images is, for some, an afterthought in a way that other choices like filters, focal lengths, and exposure settings would not be.
One of the best parts of being an active member of the online photography community is the range of criticism I have access to when I share my work. Being open to constructive criticism is an essential part of growth as an artist -- not only can it highlight shortcomings, but it can also emphasize areas in which you may be strong without realizing it.
Whether it’s a wedding, a festival, or a protest, crowds present photographers with some unique challenges. I’ve spent some time working on figuring out the best ways to handle crowded environments in order to produce images that are consistent with my style, while conveying the energy of the crowd in that moment.
Something about the way photographers acclimatize to shooting with film has intrigued me for some time. I think it’s safe to say that film is very much tried and tested -- some of the greatest photography pioneers worked with film and were not limited in their ability to create incredible work, which remains relevant.
As with any genre of photography, there is no "one size fits all" solution for exposure in any given situation. There are as many different means of achieving a "look" as there are photographers practicing those methods, and any can be adapted to fit into the kind of photography you want to be doing.
A very common piece of advice for photographers looking to take their work to the “next level” is that they must invest time in themselves in the process of developing a “style.” A photographic style can mean many things; a theme within the subject matter, a specific color palette, a certain compositional approach, and anything else that leaves the artist's work with a distinct "fingerprint."
I have gone through the gear of almost every major brand during my early photography journey, buying my way through cameras and lenses until I arrived at my current setup, which has remained more or less the same for my entire professional career. Despite settling on a brand known for its high price point, I have been comfortable with all of my camera and lens choices except one, which is what I’ll be discussing here.
Street photography is one of the best ways to exercise and train your eye for application to photojournalism projects. I've written before about the way I apply the techniques and style from my street photography to my set stills and BTS as well as my long term fashion BTS project and I think that practicing some form of street photography every single day is an incredible way to keep your eye active and your mind constantly searching for new possibilities.