Pondering Photographing People
We were walking along a lake front in late September and a woman's profile caught my eye. She was sitting on a bench under a tree, looking at her phone, with a bag, a backpack, and a couple of dogs. Her profile, framed by dark hair with graying highlights and a shock of white along the temple, was striking.
Should I take her picture? I wanted to, but... but... Taking pictures of people seems like a delicate operation. To begin, what if they don't want their picture taken? True, objectively that's a risk they run by being out in public. But that doesn't mean I have to be comfortable with it. And then, what do I do if I take a picture, like it, and then want to post it on social media or some other corner of the web---like this site? And even if I ask and am given permission to take the picture, am I free to post it in public view if I like it? If I were selling or otherwise somehow profiting from these pictures the question might be more straightforward: I'd need a signed release from the subject. But I'm not profiting, unless the intangible and to-me-mysterious but very real pleasure of showing something I find interesting or enjoyable something to others counts as profit.
So where's the line? For that matter, what is the line? For the most part, I take pictures of people I know. Certainly at the time I am writing this every photograph on this website but one (the musicians on the street in Basel) that includes distinguishable faces is of people I know; or, if there are people I do not know in a picture they are incidental in the sense of not being the focus of the photograph, of having wandered by when the shutter was open. When there's a level of trust, and the person on the other side of the lens is relaxed, I get better pictures. Not of everybody; some people can't seem to relax around a camera or have a sort of "camera mask" that they put on, obscuring the kind of warmth and trust I want to capture. But even so, does having a picture I like mean I can post it in public? Well, apparently not; since well before I made this place to post my pictures, I have tried to make it a point not to post pictures of anybody without their consent. And I get not wanting to give consent---I mean, I trust me (fortunately) and am okay with posting pictures of myself if I think they're okay, but I'm not sure how much I'd trust others to do the same. There are pictures in my files that I really like but will not post because the subjects have not given permission. And what if I can't get permission because I don't know or otherwise can't reach the person?
I've taken a fair amount of pictures of people I don't know and I've posted almost none of them. (Musicians and other performers, unless photography is prohibited at the forum, are a different story; they're there to be seen, after all.) Part of that is because I tend not to like the pictures that much---they usually lack the intimacy I want to capture, which in turn probably reflects the absence of a personal rapport. the main exceptions to this, unsurprisingly because they are more free of the tensions and anxiety that get in the way of relaxing in front of a camera, are pictures of kids. But the other part is consent, something that is true in spades when kids are involved. And finally, there's experience; at least I hope it's experience.
Anyway. That brings me back to the woman on the bench on the lake front. I did not take her picture, not then. We walked on, chatting and generally enjoying the day, but I was regretting the missed opportunity. We reached the canal at the end of the path, and after a while started walking back. She was still sitting there, and this time I got up the nerve to ask if I could take her picture. I think that was the first time I’ve wanted to take a picture of someone I don’t know that is more like a portrait than of a scene with people in it. And it was the first time I’ve asked someone for permission to take their picture. She looked up and said something like "it's funny that you should ask that. I'm a photographer and I ask people that all the time." So good, but also bad; it turns out that imposter syndrome need not apply only to one’s academic discipline (or area of expertise more generally, I’m sure). I felt like I was an imposter basically cosplaying her profession.
She asked me if she should look at me or at her phone, but by then I was so happy to have worked up the gumption to ask if I could take her picture that I had completely forgotten both what about her had captured my attention and the basics of thinking about framing, angles, or background. I ended up snapping a few poorly composed shots from a perspective entirely different and not nearly as good as what I'd had when I first noticed her, and while I would consider that I have her permission (tacit, to be sure) to post those pictures I'm not sure I ever will. More accurately, I’m fairly certain I never will. I did try salvaging one of them, really digging into post-processing (about which I am very much still learning as well), but came up with nothing that has seemed worth sharing.
Is there a moral to this story? Maybe more like a lesson for myself: if I want to become a better photographer I'm going to have to be more comfortable taking pictures of strangers. Maybe it's as simple as taking pictures first and asking permission second. Or maybe I'm going to have to start chatting with people I'd like to photograph, build some sort of trust, and then shoot pictures. For the kinds of pictures I like to take, so far at least, the latter seems like the more promising course. It is likely to be hard though, much more so after a year of pandemic-induced isolation in which I am certain any social skills I may have possessed before have evaporated into near nothingness. I'll have to work on figuring this out when it's safe to go out in public again. For starters, I'll consider it a win if people don't back cautiously away from me when I have a camera in my hands. (And of course also when I don’t.) After that, well, we'll see.
