Street Photography in a Country Town, Part Two

In Part One of this three-part post I mentioned some famous people with whom Ipswich is associated: Cardinal Wolsey, and so on. Now, in this second part, I want to start by adding one more, namely Giles the Cartoonist.

Ronald “Carl” Giles OBE (1916–95) drew political and social cartoons for the Daily Express newspaper from 1943 until 1989. He was immensely famous in his day, particularly for the characters he created, such as Chalkie the vicious schoolmaster, and Larry, the kid next door. But by far his most fondly remembered character is Grandma, a woman who bore an unnerving resemblance to a distant relative in my own family (my mother’s first husband’s mother — definitely not a blood relation!)

Up from London
Giles was a Londoner, born in Islington, but after his marriage he and his wife moved to a village near Ipswich. He travelled into town to work in an office in the town centre. Today, there’s a large statue of a figure looking up at the office where he drew his cartoons. However, the figure is not of Giles himself. It’s a bronze statue of Grandma (above).

For a long time I’ve wanted to include a reference to Giles in the pictures I’ve taken in Ipswich, but to be honest, the dark and somewhat forbidding statue doesn’t really lend itself to street photography. I made a few more attempts but I couldn’t improve on the featured image above. Fortunately, a different opportunity presented itself when a photo of the sculpture appeared on the hoarding that surrounded Cornhill during its recent redevelopment.

Large photo on hoarding; people walking past

Working the Scene
The image gave me a chance to used the time-honoured street photography technique of “working the scene.” The resulting shots are not too bad: they show the good people of Ipswich going about their business in a relaxed manner on a nice sunny day (as above).

I found the experience cathartic, not least because Giles’s cartoons always struck me as rather depressing, being rooted in war and deprivation. He had been, after all, an official “war artist” and was deeply traumatised by scenes he saw in the death camps during the Liberation.

There’s little doubt about Giles’s own “dark side.” For example, in 1980 he depicted the universally loved Rubert Bear dangling from a noose in the background of a published cartoon. (Giles’s editors didn’t notice).

Same hoarding, different people

So, in each of the three images I’m showing here, there’s feisty old Grandma – a solid bronze ghost from another era. She was notorious for her old-fashioned views: such as her support for the death penalty and public flogging. She terrorised her family, rode a motorbike, went skiing, and even played the tuba. The British public became very fond of her.

I’m not sure which of the images I prefer, but maybe a composite of the top (featured image) and the one below would have been nice. It would have given me the young mum with her pram plus the lady in front of Grandma in the same image. Of course, it’s not kosher to do that sort of thing in street photography. Apparently.

Young mum in shorts walks past old grandma on hoarding

Come On, Ipswich. Cheer Up!
Apart from the presence of Grandma, the pictures I’ve shown so far are quite cheerful and upbeat. Yet sometimes it seems as though this large Suffolk town is mired in gloom: when the sky is overcast and Market Day unusually quiet, or when the football team gets relegated to a lower division. On days such as those the inhabitants respond by wearing their most lurid outfits, like the one below.

Lurid tee-shirt on man standing next to upside-down sign

Yes, you can easily get depressed in Ipswich simply by waiting for the mobile Vegan Restaurant to open. I took the shot (below) as I was making my way to the station in the early evening.

I’m not sure if the person kneeling in front of the van is actually waiting for it to open, but it’s certainly possible. The slogan on her bag says: “Caution. I could burst into song at any moment.”

girl crouched beside rusty food van

An alternative way of cheering up is to make an expensive purchase, perhaps after browsing the jeweller’s window. Somehow it’s reassuring to see a guy with a Motorhead tee-shirt checking out the engagement rings before going on to “Shop With Confidence” (see below). To judge by the heavy discounting he’ll get it at a good price.

Jeweller's shop window being browsed by heavy metal fan, while three women walk past

Now I’m wondering if I should extend this article to a third part, as I’ve plenty of pictures remaining in my Ipswich folder. For this concluding part I think I’ll go back to looking at this town’s sunny side. After all, the team has started winning again. I’ll banish all the horror tee-shirts, the doom-and-gloom, and the dreadful if “much loved” Grandma.

Finding a Frame Within the Scene

When the scene you’re taking is surrounded by a natural frame, composed of objects such as doorways, windows, openings in walls, and so on… well, that’s a good start. However, it’s not enough to have a frame. You need to have something within the frame to make it all worthwhile.

The featured image (above) fills all the criteria. The frame is not too regular, only approximating to a rectangle. Fortunately it’s visually interesting, being composed of several types of vegetation together with other elements. When I took the shot I liked the way the grey planter underlined the scene and anchored it firmly to the ground.

In this case, the composition works because the frame is mostly green, brown or grey, whereas the subjects are brightly dressed. When you look at these figures and try to see what exactly they’re doing, you are still aware of the natural frame which isolates them into an almost-secret world of their own.

Street art of boy with keyboard, glaring at the onlooker

Why Are Frames Satisfying?
We take physical picture frames very much for granted and rarely does anyone display a painting in a gallery without first placing it into frame. But why?

The frame exists on the periphery of our gaze, meaning that we are only aware of it subconsciously (unless we start to examine it). In nearly every case, it improves the picture. When we use a better quality frame, we add even more more aesthetic value. Nothing detracts from an image more than a cheap frame.

A frame helps the onlooker to concentrate on the image, yet increasingly we view photographs on digital displays without any surrounding barrier to stop the eye from wandering off the edge of the picture. I’ve never liked the idea of placing digital images into “faux frames,” in imitation of a gallery painting. After all, you need to choose a frame carefully. But it’s great when you can view photos surrounded by a plain, preferably dark frame – even if it’s the monitor’s bezel (although photo and screen proportions rarely match).

Literally Finding a Frame
It’s not often you find an actual frame in the scene, through which is a glimpse of reality rather than a picture. However, some recent renovation work in a nearly town gave me what is, in effect, a ready-framed image.

Workman, seen through a picture frame, courtesy of the town council

The work was taking place in the Suffolk town of Ipswich (about which I have an ongoing series of posts). The heart of the town is Cornhill, with the Town Hall and Corn Exchange buildings dominating the square. The Council had placed a giant hoarding around the work, interspersed here and there with peepholes surrounded by picture frames.

I like the irony of showing a ornate picture frame, with real workmen beyond it, right next to a photograph of the Town Hall which occupies a thin and barely noticeable frame. Once again, I’ve included some prominent colours in the scene, for which I had to wait a few minutes until the man with the orange jacket came into view.

Yellow walls of restaurant, at end of white passageway

The Joy of Passageways
One place to find a frame within the scene is to visit a passageway and stand a few yards back from the end of it.

The photo (above) is one of the entrances to Neal’s Court, in London. There’s contrast between the plain white walls and the brightly coloured buildings beyond them. We can see enticing menus and puffs of steam, both of which indicate the presence of food. We are drawn towards them, yet, in the still image, a woman remains rooted to the spot, examining her phone.

I wonder, does she counterbalance the tension? Does she hold back the onlooker from plunging into the picture? Or does she merely provide temporary relief, and in so doing actually exaggerate the feeling of movement towards the distant scene?

I think it’s the latter. When I took the shot I was worried unless she suddenly decided to move rapidly. Even one step would have ruined the photo. So the tension remains. Even though the scene has its own, built-in frame, it’s by no means a static shot.

The Joy of Entrances
Here (below) is another entrance, this time to the Bangkok Art and Culture Centre. When I’m in Bangkok I often pop in to the BACC to view the photographic exhibitions. There’s always something of interest!

The BACC has a splendid entrance, accessed by walkways which connect it to various shopping malls. However, it’s tricky to get a balanced composition because of the thin white pole on the right.

I solved the problem by waiting until more people were going in and out of the left hand side than the side nearer the pole.

Elegant modern entrance, people coming and going

Three of the images above involved a brief wait and one of them needed rapid action to get the shot. Only “Keyboard Graffiti” was independent of any constraint on my personal time. The boy with the keyboard even has two frames of his own: the frame of the sarcophagus and another through which he is sticking his head.

A frame within a frame! I think I’ll print and frame it.

When It’s Only Slightly Surreal

A while back I wrote a blog post called “The Streets Are Surreal” in which I drew attention to the increasingly surreal qualities of contemporary street sculptures, advertising, and people’s dress and accessories.

Today I want to look at something else: at images which are only a little bit surreal. I want to think about those in which the contents seem very slightly “off.”

Off? I mean off-key, or out-of-the-ordinary, unusual in a hard-to-define way. After all, if you could define it in words you wouldn’t really need a photo at all. Street photography should, at the very least, say something which you can’t put into words.

In the end, I believe, it comes down to feeling. Surrealism is all about hard-to-define feelings. The surrealist image reaches down into the subconscious, awakening feelings that we don’t experience in the normal course of events. Salvador Dali’s drooping watches, for example, seem to be melting like wax, evoking memories of dreams in which time slows down or dissolves altogether.

Opposite Skechers
The featured image above was sufficiently mystifying to prevent me from finding a title for it, so I called it “Opposite Skechers” for obvious reasons. Hopefully, the obviousness of the title runs counter to the content of the image.

I find the picture unusual in several ways, all of them exaggerated by the low viewpoint (I was standing at the bottom of some steps). The girl in the foreground is picking her way carefully, trying to avoid tumbling down the steps as she walks past the other pedestrians. Her knee-length shoulder bag is surreal in itself, but then, so are the huge, bright red headphones. This person has certainly accessorised herself into surreality.

There are other elements in the image that support the feeling, for example: the two women at either side, their eyeline coinciding with the horizontal Skechers sign. This, too, is unusual – but so are the almost touching noses of two men in the background and the bag which says “time waste” (part of a longer message with a different meaning).

Looking at the people taking short steps while others are pausing and scarcely moving at all, we feel that everything is in slow motion: not quite frozen in time as a photograph normally shows. In other words, the composition is slightly unstable, slightly “off,” slightly surreal.

Cut-out looks straight at the camera

Dancing on a Waste Bin
In the image immediately above, fashion designer Vivienne Westwood appears to be dancing on top of a waste bin. Of course, we soon notice that she’s just a cut-out figure, affixed to the Kurt Geiger window in the background and probably there to draw attention to her range of shoes and accessories. As the slogan says: “Everything But the Dress,” although the most striking thing about Westwood is (apart from pink hair) her dress.

I say “most striking,” but on reflection the most striking thing about the cutout (as opposed to Vivienne Westwood herself) is its size. It’s considerably larger than life, so it dwarfs the foreground figures even though it’s some distance behind them.

No, the woman near the bin is not wearing a backpack. That belongs to a passer-by, but I think the confusion adds to the slightly surreal feeling of the image. Meanwhile, a man draws his companion’s attention to something across the street. “Look! There’s some normality over there!”

Man in multicoloured suit, carrying ballons

Abnormality Everywhere
In London, you can find both normality and abnormality everywhere. By any standards the Balloon Man (above) is somewhat out-of-the-ordinary. Street photographers and tourists alike can’t resist him, on account of his colourful appearance. I found him so striking that I waited until he walked in front of a plain background (there aren’t too many of those in Oxford Street, but this was one of them).

I think this is where the photographer’s intervention really counts. By taking the balloon seller out-of-context, away from tourists and their children, I’ve made him just a human figure, marching along an empty sidewalk in the middle of nowhere. He’s loaded up with a bundle of balloons which reminds me, slightly, of a rocket launcher: the army’s heavy artillery.

Naturally, I should NOT be reminded of military hardware by a man selling balloons to children, but I can’t get the idea out of my mind. Maybe it’s partly on account of all the metal and concrete in the image, not just the balloons, which are angled correctly for the first salvo.

Stopping Short of the Super Real
I could continue in this same vein, because so many of my pictures are slightly surreal. Sometimes I wonder whether people notice: whether they get the same feeling from them. Certainly it’s not obvious. If it were obvious then the photos would be bizarre (more Diane Arbus) rather than what I’m trying to achieve, which is to depict everyday reality in a slightly, ever-so-slightly, disturbing way.

As the poet T.S. Eliot said: “humankind can not bear very much reality.” When reality becomes too surreal (super real) we tend to freak out. That’s why I prefer merely to drop a few hints, here and there.

Street Photography in a Country Town, Part One

I have great affection for England’s country towns, but heavens! they’re having a tough time. The big department stores are ailing. When they’ve all finally closed, as seems inevitable, the shopping heart of every English town will have been ripped out, replaced elsewhere by online stores, distant warehouses and thousands of delivery vans.

It’s not just the department stores either. Most of the smaller, interesting shops, such as those selling hardware items, books and music recordings, or even those offering violin or watch repairs, have been replaced by charity junkshops (as in the picture below), staffed by volunteer workers. Street photography can document the transition by recording these changes that are constantly taking place on the High Street.

Young man walking past charity shop window

Yppswyche
For me, Ipswich in East Suffolk is just a short hop away on the train, so I go there sometimes to take pictures. It’s a town with a proud history, having once belonged to the wife of Edward the Confessor, the penultimate Anglo-Saxon king of England. It came to be known as Gypeswic or Gyppewicus in the Domesday Book and later as Yppswyche. At school I learned the modern spelling by the mnemonic “I Put Some Water In Charlie’s Hat.” Ipswich.

I should note that the most famous person to emerge from Ipswich was Thomas Wolsey, Henry VIII’s right-hand man, and no one from there has since attained greater heights nor fallen as dramatically.

Other famous people seemed merely to be “passing through,” like the visiting Charles Dickens, or Lord Nelson who was briefly High Steward of the town. An exception was football manager Alf Ramsey who took Ipswich Town to the top of the leagues in 1961/2 before guiding England to World Cup victory a few years later. He’s still in Ipswich, buried in the Old Cemetery.

Old Buildings, New Functions
While there are plenty of new housing estates on the outskirts of Ipswich, the town centre can only repurpose buildings from one function to another. Sometimes this works, sometimes it doesn’t.

When I was at school in nearby Framlingham one of my greatest delights was to visit the Ancient House Bookshop, housed in a spectacular and historic building which is profusely decorated by wood carvings and plaster mouldings. Structurally, the building is still intact, but the bookshop has gone. Inside, there’s nothing but kitchen equipment, lit by modern light fittings (as my picture, below, shows).

Elderly couple outside the Ancient House

Regeneration
Today, all the talk (and quite a bit of action) is about regeneration: the attempt to drag Ipswich into a prosperous future. Notably, the Waterside at the top of the estuary has been redeveloped, as has the Cornhill, where Queen Mary burned martyrs for their Protestant beliefs in the sixteenth century.

Starting from a low base, Ipswich must surely prosper now that it’s home to a University and many major businesses. The title of my picture below (with a map of the town centre) is “The Only Way Is Up.”

Three girls, one pointing upwards to the sky

To be continued at a later date!

Matching Couples

Couples who wear matching clothes are a great subject for street photography. It’s touching to see this voluntary surrender of individuality, this visual statement of a pact between two human beings, whether they’re kith and kin, or just good friends.

I like to photograph couples in matching clothes because they immediately give the image “a point.” Whatever other qualities the photo may have, at least it’s not a random picture of two people walking down the street.

The onlooker (the person who views the image) can see that I’ve chosen this particular couple quite deliberately in preference to any others. And why? Because they have a vital correspondence between them which is expressed in a visual way. It gives them a back-story and it gives the photo some meaning.

A moment’s thought can explain the charm of a such a photo. Off-camera, before they hit the streets, the couple must have discussed the clothes they’d wear before making their final choice. What we’re seeing is not the result of coincidence.

In my featured image (above) the couple are wearing very distinctive tee-shirts in bright yellow with the words “Heroin Original” on them. I guess that’s a provocative brand-name, but it gives an already “gritty” street photo a bit more bite.

Complex Matching
The more elaborate the match, the more charming it becomes. My photo (below) shows two people in matching tee-shirts, with matching face-masks, worn under the chin in matching style. They’re both wearing similar sandals, but there the correspondence stops. The guy has a backpack; the girl carries a silver bag with Mickey Mouse ears.

Couple wearing trendy, matching tee-shirts

When people take matching to extremes, as done by the couple above, the effect starts to become somewhat calculated. The two people in question begin to take on a familial resemblance, like siblings rather than lovers. But why would brother and sister want to dress alike? That’s a mystery to me.

Whereas the “Army Couple” are matching in height as well as dress, in the photo below the guy is much taller than the girl. The Army tees wouldn’t look so good on them!

Couple wearing similar uniforms

However, they look much more like a couple, walking hand-in-hand, the guy carrying what is presumably his girl-friend’s bag as well as his own. There’s nothing deliberately calculated in their dress. It’s a uniform! We get a feeling they’ll change into clothes which fit their individual taste at the earliest opportunity.

Tricks and Gimmicks, Are They Valid?

I guess it all depends on what you mean by “tricks and gimmicks,” because both of those words are loaded with negative connotations.

In candid street photography, fakery is definitely unacceptable, so “tricks” — in that sense — are out. So too are gimmicks, if by gimmicks we mean those all-too-easy, “look-at-me” photos which are based on simple visual tricks.

Oh dear, we’re back at tricks again.

Take the photo above, for example. It’s quite fun, visually interesting…and nice and sharp. In fact, there’s quite a lot of positive things about it, but it makes the viewer puzzle for a moment to see why everything is skewed.

Walking down Long Acre in London’s Covent Garden I came across the parking sign which had been uprooted and tossed at a crazy angle by workmen repairing the road. Normal, horizontal pictures looked every bit as absurd as the crooked sign, so I tilted the camera until the sign was upright.

Was that a trick or a gimmick, or both? Either way, I don’t think I can look at the image too seriously. It’s not really my style of picture.

large, mirrored sign, with lights attached

Reflections Are Slightly Gimmicky
I’ve written elsewhere about using reflections in street photography, and I still think they can contribute to a good image. Yet they are a bit gimmicky, despite their visual appeal.

The big “W” in the shot above is the logo of a company, somewhere near Leicester Square. It makes pleasing shadows and allows you to glimpse some of the people who are waiting near the door.

I took a few shots to see if I could find a reasonable composition and you can see the result. There’s plenty of visual interest: the curious white and magenta dots (lights?) and the wiggly reflected sunlight on the paving slabs. But it’s impossible to be entirely happy about it. After all, it doesn’t say anything about the two people in the photo.

Here’s another — and I think, better — shot with a reflected image. There’s tons more visual interest here, including the crowds of people walking down Oxford Street and their reflections superimposed on the objects behind the glass window.

Pedestrians reflected in plate glass window

I prefer this one to similar shots I’ve taken because it’s not too symmetrical (there’s more on the right than the left). And as for the people, well, the main figure seems to be checking her appearance rather than looking at the goods for sale.

When There’s No Trick or Gimmick
Finally, here’s an unusual shot (below) in which one of the figures is in such deep shadow that she appears to be headless. Technically, this is simply because of the black hoarding across the street, draining light from the scene despite the intensity of the sun.

I like the weirdness of the shot: the two friendly coffee cups on the steps, the billowing black overcoat, and the unnatural height of the female figure (she’s standing on the bottom step).

Rather than use light and dark areas of the frame as abstract components, I’ve made them accentuate the oddness of the scene. In this, I think the shot is far superior to the ones above. There are no tricks or gimmicks involved: just natural light and an encounter between two native Londoners.

well-illuminated man appears to be chatting to a headless woman

Limber Up Before You Take Street Photos

In my eBook “100 Top Street Photography Tips” there is Number 81 and it’s called “Limber Up.”

I don’t think anyone will misunderstand it to the extent of physically stretching and bending before taking their camera equipment out on to the street. That’s because it’s one of several “Psychological Tips,” mental insights, tricks, approaches to the task — call them what you will — intended to help readers unlock their creative potential.

The Sports Comparison
Sports people limber up with gentle exercise before beginning the more strenuous tasks of running, jumping, skating, cycling (or whatever). In the same way, street photographers should make a deliberate effort to “get in the zone” by taking one or two easy shots before they attempt any serious photography.

Why? There are several reasons, the first of which is the very simple fact that you have to start somewhere. The old saying that the “longest journey starts with a single step” is profound. Writers know their task becomes easier once they’ve constructed just one sentence that measures up to their expectations. To switch metaphors: it gets the ball rolling. It gets rid of what the poet Dylan Thomas called “the terror of the virgin page.”

In the supporting text to my tip I say: “Take some “warm up” shots on your way to your chosen location. You’ll be surprised how quickly this gets you in the mood for serious street photography, even if the shots aren’t that great.”

I don’t just mean shoot at random, but try to take the best photos you can achieve in the unpromising area between you and your destination.

A Lucky Hit
I think I was lucky with the featured image (above). Emerging from London Bridge tube station and heading across to Borough Market I took a quick shot of a “red devil” figure on a stall. I’d would have been pleased with it even later in the day.

Here (below) is another example of what I mean, although, as this one also turned out reasonably well, it’s as untypical as the one above.

This time I emerged from Holborn tube station, crossed the road, and looked for something easy to photograph. It was my intention to walk to Covent Garden, a few hundred yards away, but first I needed to “limber up.”

I spotted the placard for the “London Evening Standard” newspaper: “Chinese Flock to London in Brexit Bonanza” on the side of a closed newsstand and thought: “Here’s potential shot. All I need is a family of Chinese tourists to walk past.”

In the event, these two gentlemen came along almost immediately. They’re clearly not Chinese, but the contrast is interesting. They’re probably here to work rather than to indulge themselves in a shopping spree, courtesy of the cheaper pound.

In fact, the downward fluctuation in the UK’s currency was not to their advantage because it meant that money earned here was less valuable overseas. They look very uncomfortable, which fits the image. Of course, their discomfort is caused by the weather, not the exchange rate. Sleet was falling and the temperature was hovering around zero.

I think this is one of the better limbering up shots I’ve taken and it had a very positive effect on me as I marched towards Covent Garden. I thought: “If I get nothing else today, at least I have one reasonably good shot. I’m ahead of the game after one minute on the street!”

Timing Is Key
Another reason why limbering up in this way is essential is because it helps you get your timing right. Timing is a key part of street photography. A split second too early or too late can ruin the image.

At this point I hope American readers will forgive me for referring to the English game of cricket (I’m sure the same applies to baseball) but players speak of “getting your eye in” — which means getting up to speed with seeing the ball as it hurtles down the pitch towards you, then timing your stroke to perfection. When players have put a few runs on the scorecard they’re much more difficult to dismiss thereafter.

The ultimate reason for limbering up is to protect you from fluffing your first real chance of taking a good picture. If you’re not “in the zone,” where you’re working at a high level of awareness, there’s always a chance you’ll miss a great opportunity when it comes along.

Not So Calm
From what I’ve said, above, you may think that limbering up has a calming effect: putting you in a relaxed state of mind in which the day’s street photography will be free from all worries. Not so! It will raise your anxiety level. And that’s good.

Your psychology may be different from mine, but personally I find that my anxiety level increases with the first shot or two, then it gradually subsides as my confidence builds and I get a few decent shots on the card. I can’t sustain the higher level for longer than two or three hours. Lunch or coffee takes me out of the groove and I have to limber up all over again before I restart.

So there you have it. I think it’s an insight you can apply to many creative tasks and much else besides. If “to be limber” is to be “lithe, supple, nimble, lissome, flexible, fit, agile, and acrobatic” (mentally or physically) it can’t be bad, can it?

Showing Human Interaction on the Street

The vast majority of street photos fail to show any real interaction between people. Is this an accurate representation of what actually happens on the street?

Most of the people moving about our big cities on foot are shopping, going to and from appointments, or looking for somewhere to grab a bite to eat. Couples and small groups are different, but their interaction is usually limited to chatting. Any demonstrative action between them occurs only now and again. Blink and you’ll miss it.

Action and Interaction
Human action is something that underpins our entire economy and society. Wasn’t it the great thinker of the Austrian School (of economics), Ludwig von Mises, who based his entire theory on it, calling his definitive work “Human Action”? No product gets made, no service provided, until someone takes action.

The actions we make can be either competitive (as in the featured image, above) or collaborative (as in the image below).

Man stopping woman from falling into river

In fact, what often happens in a given society is a constant switching between the two modes of behaviour. People compete with each other for money and love, but they collaborate when there’s a major threat to the common welfare.

I think there can be a large amount of self interest in collaboration. The man in the photo, who is rescuing the woman and preventing her from falling into the water, is simply doing his job. Drowing a passenger would have unwelcome repercussions for him personally.

Observing Interaction
Because human interaction tends to happen at rare moments on the street, the photographer has to respond quickly in order to capture it.

Yet it really is important to capture these moments if we want to give a rounded and accurate picture of city life.

One way to do this is to attend events that attract groups of friends and sightseers. When people are not burdened with the need to reach appointments or get to their place of work they’re more likely to engage with each other in having fun.

I’m not sure if Ludwig von Mises would approve, but it seems that leisure rather than work — in my photos at least — leads more frequently to human interaction on the street.

Women chatting and pointing

Why I Wrote “100 Top Street Photography Tips”

It seems like only five minutes since I was explaining Why I Wrote Street Photography Is Cool — which has now become the first book in a series of two.

The main reason was to issue some helpful advice to people who are just getting started with street photography. Although they can glean a lot from Street Photography Is Cool, that previous book is really an in-depth analysis of the medium rather than a practical guide.

By contrast, 100 Top Street Photography Tips is full of practical advice about cameras, lenses, strategies, exposure, focusing, and so on. I’ve subdivided the tips into ten sections, from “Getting Equipped” to “Developing a Personal Style.”

It’s Very Much Shorter
The new book contains relatively little text. Why?

As Wiktionary explains: “Conciseness of expression is an essential characteristic of astute, perceptive, or witty remarks.” Or as Shakespeare put it: “Brevity is the soul of wit.”

I’ve sided with Shakespeare in this instance.

My primary market is aspiring street photographers, many of whom shy away from lengthy texts. They prefer to be out on the street, taking pictures instead of curled up at home with a good book. Personally, I enjoy both activities, but I have to acknowledge that others are different.

It’s Less Expensive
Despite having 100+ illustrations, 100 Top Street Photography Tips is just a fraction of the price of the previous book. In fact, it’s about the same price as a coffee shop cappuccino: US $3.95/UK £2.95.

It’s Got Hidden Depths
Thanks to the miracle of eBook technology, 100 Top Street Photography Tips contains links which automatically launch a web browser — which in turn takes the reader to sources of further information.

Anyway, it’s out there, in the market, ready to be enjoyed, another eBook from Grey Lady Publishing.

lady with grey hair

100 Top Street Photography Tips is available only from Amazon.

Street Photography and the Theory of Work

Happy are they whose work has a physical component as well as an intellectual one. I’m referring to the surgeon, the sculptor, the builder, the engineer — and yes, the street photographer! Without physical activity, human beings become sad, lopsided creatures, divorced from the reality of the world around them.

I have a huge admiration of people whose work is primarily physical and who take the trouble to do it properly. Without them, street photography would be impossible. There would be no cameras, no buildings, no streets.

As we move into an age of robotics and artificial intelligence, we may be tempted to sit back and let machines take over. This will be a fatal mistake because machines will organise reality to suit themselves, not us.

Ownership
The concept of work underpins our concept of ownership. That is to say: it’s our physical work which cultivates the land, creates the built environment, and confers upon working people the right — by common agreement — to claim a measure of ownership of the physical world.

That said, unskilled labour has never been highly rewarded. The concept of “slave” completely undermines the concept of property.

When I take pictures of people engaged upon physical labour I often get the impression they’re resigned to their fate. They’re just going through the motions, aware they’ll never be able to afford to buy one of the high-rise apartments they’re building, or to which they’re delivering goods.

Today, a lifetime’s physical labour will just about feed and clothe you. Unless you’re among the sporting elite you’ll never win a fair share of the tangible world by running, digging, chopping or lifting various parts of it.

Money
If there’s one thing that makes slaves of us all it’s money. Fungible currency (you can swap it to buy anything) serves the purpose of separating physical labour from ownership. Once it becomes available, everything assumes a market value governed by supply and demand. Convenient? Yes, but it shortchanges the physical labourer and rewards the trader and the banker.

Bankers emerging from headquarters

The downside to trading and banking is the physical effect on individuals who spend all their time in front of computer screens. A complete lack of physical labour leads to obesity, ill health, and, eventually, an early death.

The professional, screen-bound classes believe they have a solution to this problem, namely: pointless labour, or “exercise.”

Pointless Labour
Personally, I hate the idea of going to a gym and “working out.” It’s an insult to the noble concept of work and ownership. If you want to stay healthy, the most sensible course of action is to do something useful: dig the garden, paint the house, or create something tangible. Pumping iron is insane. Form follows function, so why would anyone trust a musclebound web designer?

Man with grey hair, stripped to the waist and working hard

What Does All This Have to do with Street Photography?
My argument has nothing — or perhaps everything — to do with taking pictures in the street. The physical activity of street photography is all about walking and looking: about seeing and recording what’s really going on.

Human beings are prepared to work hard, but we also like to seek advantage and acquire more than our fair share of possessions by scheming and calculating, even if it means taking risks. The risk-takers who make the most accurate calculations — so accurate they have predictive power — are the ones who gain greatest advantage.

Can we really see and photograph all this on the street? We can certainly see the stark difference between those who labour physically and those who manipulate figures and give instructions. On the other hand, it’s impossible to tell — from vision alone — whether someone sitting in a café is writing a novel or causing a stockmarket crash.

There are strict limits to what street photography can show us and even stricter limits as to what it can explain. It can’t tell us how the world works, but only show us the outcome: how the world turned out and how people are reacting to it.

The Impossibility of Knowing
Oddly enough, the limitations of street photography only add to its magic, not subtract from it. Images taken on the street tell us something about the impossibility of knowing. They make us think without necessarily directing our thoughts in any specific direction. In this sense, the shortage of explanation — street photography’s inability to provide a complete narrative — can be an advantage.

Woman washing up in kitchen

The street photo is a “fait accompli.” It leaves us with no other option than to accept it for what it is: a snapshot, a statement, a solitary frame from the movie of the photographer’s mind.