The other day I had the most terrifyingly illuminating experience. A friend of mine, who we will call Mike, because that’s his name and he said I could, took me to downtown San Diego. This doesn’t sound like an altogether extraordinary act; it wasn’t Fallujah. It was what he forced me to do when we got downtown that was extraordinary and it was the way it made me feel that was alarming.
I consider myself to be a relatively competent professional photographer. Not to the “do you know who I am?” level, but competent. At least I did. When Mike and I parked downtown and got out of the car he told me to leave everything except my camera and bring only one lens . I grabbed my Tamron 45mm because it’s crazy sharp and I expected low light and I knew this would get the job done.. We then walked 20 feet down the street and he pointed to a sign spinner and he turned me and he said, “Take her picture”. That instruction doesn’t seem too crazy. After all, it’s not like he pointed to a stroller and said grab the baby and run. Taking someone’s picture on a public street is hardly challenging. Then why, I ask myself, was my only response abject horror-mouth wide open. First of all, I refused. I refused to raise my camera to my face and take a picture of a stranger spinning a sign on a public street. While I was searching for an alley to jump into, he asked her if it was ok and she said yes, happily I might add; so I did take her picture and then I walked away, fast…..as in from a fire fast.
After we left her I realized that I had some serious analysis to do. I wasn’t just outside my comfort zone, I was in the frigging twilight zone! Why was that so frightening? Why did I feel like I was stealing something from her? Why did I feel like I had no business photographing someone in public? Why did I feel judgment? Did I feel like a tourist? Was I less than a professional photographer? Was I a hack?
It’s interesting that none of my doubt had anything to do the technical side of photography or the challenging lighting situations or camera settings; it was all pure emotion. The fact that the overwhelming feeling was incompetence had nothing to do with my competence as an artist. I just couldn’t get comfortable with the fact that I was rudely forcing my will upon these people and stealing their likeness, often without asking. Of course, that is not what I was doing at all, it just felt that way. Mike explained to me that every time he photographs a stranger he follows it with the big beaming smile at them. He said, “Most times it’s disarming, rarely does it fail.” When it does, he’s grateful he’s a marathon runner.
After sweating it out on the street for an hour or so we got back into the car. That was when my creative brain took over the Debbie doubter brain and all the worry & silliness fell away. I remembered that I actually have photographic talent and knowledge. I’m a photographer for goodness sake! I push button tiny buttons for a living! I can do this! I ended up creating a series of story telling images that I am actually really proud of. I wanted to create images that you could feel and hear not just look at. When I view these I hear the traffic, I feel the sun, I see the chaos. It makes me want to run out of my studio and wildly participate in the world. Join me?
You can see the whole collection on my facebook page: Monica Royal Photography. You can also find me here: TW: @monica_royal Instagram: monicaroyal
Special thanks to Crazy Mike for being not so crazy, but brave. I learned a valuable lesson my friend. Thank you! XO
13 Comments
Thanks Don. Good tip too. I was thinking about you just yesterday, honestly! I’m going to email you.
Thanks for sharing this, Monica. Getting over the same shyness you mention is something I work on too, especially here in the US for some reason. That said, some of my favorite moments with a camera come from the people I meet photographing on the streets! I enjoy talking with them if they have the time – many do. I also carry a set of “street cards” – (mine are MOO minicards ) with just minimal info, including my name and email address. If they’re interested (many are not – some are), I’ll give them a card, and share a street portrait or environmental photo if they like.
That’s a great idea. Do people actually follow up and contact you to see their images?
Sometimes they do, sometimes not. I think it’s around 50-60% who get back to me so far.
I love Jim’s “street card” idea. And this is a great post. I’ve dropped money into people’s jars, too, if they’ve had them, after I made a picture of them. I’m not sure I would be able to just photograph random people, though, for the same reasons that had you wigging out. It’s just such an intimate act, especially if you’re a portrait photographer. I like having a personal connection with my subjects. I think I’d feel like a voyeur otherwise. Maybe if I had street cards like Jim, though, I’d get over that.
Heading off to see about getting some street cards…
Roxy
I remember blushing once when a steeet performer smiled at me when I was photographing her. I was so embarrassed! I can totally relate to how you felt that day! It was however a cute photo and I wish I’d been able to share it with her.
I don’t have as much resistance as I used to, but I remember sweating bullets because I wanted to photograph this cowboy in Montana sitting in a bar. I couldn’t just take it on the sly because the light was wrong and I was using a twin lens Mamiya camera, not very inconspicuous. I would have to ask him permission plus ask him to move his chair. I went into the bathroom and talked myself in the mirror even called myself a poor excuse of a photographer. I never got the shot instead I ordered another beer. I hated not getting the shot. Chicken.
OH wow Patricia, what an experience! I’ve chosen beer over many a scary thing trust me! Are you able to photograph strangers now?
Too bad you missed that shot, Patricia; it sounds like it was a good opportunity. One thing that helped me is to develop an “elevator pitch” for when I approach someone for a street portrait. I’m still working on it and only used it a couple times since I mostly photograph on the streets outside of the US, but I know what I’ll say before I approach. The subject can say no, but it’s not the end of the world – there are so many opportunities on the streets. I just thank them and move on if they say no to me.
I like this sort of photography, so I took a street photography workshop a few months ago in Tokyo. It really helped me develop some of the “people skills” and gave me some of the ideas I use now. The instructors proposed I work almost exclusively with a 35mm lens, and do a set of portraits as well. I shot most of the workshop with the 35, and an 85mm so there wasn’t much chance of being inconspicuous with my D3 and D810!
Thanks for sharing this very personal story with us. I’ve also been too shy to ask complete strangers if they’d permit me to take their picture, but reading this blog gives me reason enough to break out of my comfort zone. The worst they can do is say “no”, right?
Monica,
Great post, thanks.
I do a lot of street stuff. If they have a case or a box
I always put a buck in Thank them for the time. And then move on never taking too much of there time.
Don