Okay, so I don't really introduce myself like that to strangers very often- I try to, but most of the time it comes out a garbled "Hi,I'mdoingthisproject,wouldyoumindverymuch,umm,wow,this isn't coming out right (nervous giggle), if I took your photograph?". As you can see, the initial stages of my asking a stranger for a photograph are incredibly woesome. It is a combination of nerves, not wanting to embarrass myself , over thinking things, a fear of rejection, not wanting to disturb or put people out....It doesn't stop me though: photographing strangers is something I do each time I take my camera out of the house and it fills me with equal amounts of pleasure and frustration.Pleasure: because photographing people is what I most love to do, and Frustration: because of my own shortcomings. Sometimes I have the "vision" of what I want a photograph to look like, but my lack of technical skills and/or inability to "direct" a stranger hold me back from getting the photograph I really want. The photographs above and below are a perfect example: They are of a London cabbie I photographed last Sunday, before the snow. (side note: London seems now to be defined as 'before the snow' and 'after the snow'!)
As soon as we jumped in the cab I knew that I wanted to ask for his photograph and the whole way home I was jangling with nerves thinking "how am I going to ask if I can take his photograph, what do I say, how will he react etc etc". As soon as Mr Messy had paid and was out of earshot (he requests that I not ask strangers if I can photograph them when he is about!), I was up at the cab window and asking the cabbie if I could take his photograph for my project. He smiled and agreed. Problem is, I was so focused on photographing his face and getting his eyes in focus that I forgot to move back and get a good composition. Both photos would have looked a lot better if I had moved backwards and photographed not only the person, but the environment as well ( i.e. a bit more of the cab). In my defence, we live on a very busy road and I was conscious of traffic coming both ways and the need to not get hit by a car in pursuit of a photograph. I was also concerned about holding the cabbie up and losing him money, hence I snapped these in about 10 secs.
I have been thinking a lot about why I am drawn to photographing strangers and I think it comes down to this: I love people and I love finding out their stories but I am intrinsically shy. Asking someone if I can take their photograph "opens the door" and allows conversation: a connection (however fleeting) is established. It gives me a reason, an "excuse", and allows me to meet many different people, with many different stories. Without a camera, I am lost.
I slipped into Convent Garden today for a coffee and met a guy while I was standing around sipping my takeaway. I asked if I could take his photograph and he said "Sure, but you didn't need to ask....you could have just done it". After I was finished, we had a bit of a chat and he explained that he has a few friends who are photographers and they just take photos of people without asking, and pretend they weren't really doing it, if caught. I am all for candid street photography on the proviso that it is done with dignity and respect. There are times (especially in a crowd or a parade for example) where it would be impossible to seek permission from someone to take their photo. Other times, the moment will be lost if permission is sought. However, increasingly, candid shots aren't the kind of photographs I want to take, nor enjoy taking. For me, photography is about telling a story and seeking someones permission to take their photograph and then engaging them, is part of telling that story.
Almost as confirmation of this, about 5mins after I left my first stranger of the day, I met Shaun Witherup, a very cool, young, professional skateboarder whose photos I will post tomorrow. I had a great chat with Shaun and hearing his story was fascinating. It is moments like this (and strangers like this) who make all the nerves, all the doubts, all the mustering of courage, all the rejections, all the frustrations, worthwhile.
