“What is the difference between eyes that have a look and eyes that do not have it? This difference has a name: it is called life. Life begins where the gaze begins. The look is a choice.” (Amélie Nothomb, “Métaphysique des tubes”)
In photography, there are no defined rules.
Yes, of course, there are the rules of composition, but as many photographers know, and as some great masters have often repeated, rules can be broken. The same ethics vary from photographer to photographer.
In the context of Street Photography, there are many books that try to tell its own tendencies and pseudo-rules. The inevitable manuals are those of David Gibson.
One topic that interests me particularly, in the wake of a nice online article by Simon King and the vision of hundreds of photographs I took in Dhaka, is that of eye contact: the contact with the gaze of those we photographed on the street.
Street purists believe that the subject photographed should never look into the camera. Here, too, there are no precise rules. There are photographers like Raghubir Singh or Alex Webb who photograph crowded scenes where there is not a single person looking into the lens, or photo of Richard Sandler where every person inside a subway wagon stares at the lens.
I quote King's article here:
“I think that the function of eye contact in photography, much like eye contact in real life, is to create a direct connection — between the subject and the audience. I think that this offers a few things that a lack of eye contact may not.
With eye contact, the photographer often becomes a grounded entity; present and involved in the scene. The eye connects with the lens and extends outwards to the audience, which can lead to an immediate human connection with that subject, and by extension the message the photographer is trying to convey.
In a photograph where no one
seems to be aware, we as the audience know something the subject(s) don’t —
almost a one-up on them in some way. We see what the photographer saw at the
time, from a perspective that the subjects themselves don’t have access to in
that moment.”
Interesting and understandable perspective. The photographs in which the people don't look make us privileged spectators, invisible participants of other people's lives. Like those magic mirrors used during police interrogations, where it is possible to see beyond the glass without being seen by those on the other side.
However, when someone observes us, that invisible boundary ceases to exist. There is no longer any protection and no distance. We are called to be part of the game of life.I don't really know what I prefer in my street photos, but I feel that the eyes look at me for a moment give me more emotions. For several reasons. Let's see.
From an aesthetic point of view, sometimes, I use the gaze of others as a way to let those who see the photo to enter its scenery, as a hook or, like the man who worked in the cinemas that helped people who arrived when the show had already begun, opening the thick red curtain and guide them to their seat with his torch.
As in these two photographs of the boy at the flower market in Dhaka:
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| "Flower Market", Shahbag, Dhaka, 20 February 2020 |
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| "Flower Market", Shahbag, Dhaka, 20 February 2020 |
In the first photo, he does not look at us and we are there to observe their business as a passer-by on a rickshaw. In the second photo, he looks at us, requires us to get off the rickshaw, to stand in front of him and directly assist in the sale: we become an active part of their lives.
And our eyes move, travel, from his gaze to his outstretched arm that leads us to the women in the circle, enter into the deepest part of the photograph, like water that disappear in a spiral into the drain of the sink.
The same guy also explains the second reason why I am more fond of this type of photo; it is linked to the type of lens used, a 10mm in its maximum aperture. An extremely wide angle. What does it mean?
It means that, in reality the boy might not be sure that he too was part of the photographic field, because he was far on the right side of me, external, and he was not aware of what type lens I was using. Maybe he thought that I was photographing only the women. That's why there is a moment of uncertainty in his eyes.
That is the kind of feeling that I love most. The surprise. As in the wonderful book by Andrea Marcolongo on the etymology of words, which tells us how “sorprendere” (“to surprise”) is derived from the Latin “prendere” (“to take”, “to grasp”), with addition of the prefix “sur” “sopra” (“above”). To be taken with surprise.
"When someone who is close to us is lost, we do not hesitate to take him away from banality. To snatch him from the lament, before he slips dangerously even further down into the ravine of sadness. [...] Surprise: there is no more beautiful catch.” (Andrea Marcolongo, At the Source of Words, Mondadori, 2019)
So, it's true, pure street photography prefers candid photos, where the photographer act like a shadow, capturing in silence without disturbing the natural order of reality. Add nothing to the scene, but a neutral and creative look.
On the other hand, there is the eye that observes us, calls us into the play. Or, rather, it is us who
captured the gaze of others to be jerked, for a moment, into the rough sea of life.
As if it was a silent prayer, every time, every photograph: please, oh stranger, take me with you and let our lives get lost together in the continuous flow of life, beyond the limit of photography.
Let us be surprised.
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| Dhaka, 16 February 2020 |
https://petapixel.com/2020/03/14/the-eye-contact-conundrum-in-street-photography/
David
Gibson: “Street Photography - A History in 100 Iconic Images” (Prestel, 2019)David Gibson: “Street Photography - Manual of the Street Photographer” (Il Castello, 2016)
Andrea Marcolongo: “At the source of words - 99 etymologies that speak to us” (Mondadori, 2019)
Amélie Nothomb, “Métaphysique des tubes” (Voland, 2016)
Photography is about capturing the souls not smiles @nitaRAF
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