The Anxious Photographer (7/28/08)

“The assumption that you waive your rights to control of your own image and declare yourself to be free camera fodder by stepping out of your front door is an arrogance on the part of photographers; it has no clear, absolute, and inarguable legal basis.”

* A.D. Coleman

See them before they see you.

There are times when interpersonal engagement with one’s subjects is essential to street photography. Other situations call for a discreet anonymity. In either case, the onus is on the photographer to go about his business without offending the sensibilities of those who find themselves in the crossfire. Bill Jay presents evidence that the stereotype of the “photographer as aggressor” perpetuated in movies and literature can be attributed to a well-documented “willingness, and even desire, to violate any and all social conventions of good behavior in order to take a picture.”  Jay recounts a colorful history of public resistance to photography, dating back to the advent of dry plates and instant exposures. “The Camera Epidemic,” A New York Times feature story from 1884, likened the snapshot craze with an outbreak of cholera. “No one can walk down the street or sit down in the woods . . . without a dozen or fifteen cameras trained on them by ‘camera lunatics’ . . .”  The Chicago Tribune editorialized in favor of violence to protect citizens against the “insult and arrogance” of people with cameras in public places, while in England a vigilante group was formed “for the purpose of thrashing the cads with cameras.” 

Photography is essentially an aggressive act. The specter of exploitation hangs over every documentary project like an ethical crucible. Sontag’s blunt assertions, “To photograph someone is to violate them,” and “There is an aggression implicit in every use of the camera”  are given validation every time a photographer raises his camera to a stranger without seeking permission. Not all street photographers are arrogant in this regard, though it’s also true that those who try to surreptitiously steal images from unsuspecting pedestrians do so more out of a desire for a candid look than out of any philanthropic motive.

There's a small camera mounted on the wall above the accordian player, too..

 

Many of the images in The Americans were furtively made, and Frank’s method of often shooting in a discreet manner was not unprecedented or extreme. Photographers working in public spaces have always been fascinated with the notion of capturing purely candid moments and expressions. Walker Evans’ subway portraits from 1938-1941 were made with a camera hidden in his jacket, rigged with a lengthy shutter release cable. Paul Strand’s 1915 Blind Woman, an image that was instrumental in ushering in the era of Straight Photography while putting to pasture the Photo Secessionist pictorialism of Alfred Steiglitz, was made with a camera equipped with a false lens. Strand never questioned the morality of this technique (though I‘ve never been able to figure out why he needed such trickery if the woman was indeed blind). Personally, I tried a right-angle device for a day on Broadway, but felt self-conscious and a little guilty.

Using a spy lens attachment felt creepy

Forgoing such trickery, the alternative is the standard technique of surveying the horizon and suddenly bringing the camera to eye level at the last second, hoping to freeze either the decisive or in-between moment without giving the subjects time to react. One imagines that artists such as Frank, Cartier-Bresson and especially Winogrand were particularly adept at this. Though arguably less unethical than using a trick lens or hidden camera, this technique still leaves one open to derision or even retaliation. A fellow street photographer recently shared the horror story of being physically assaulted and verbally abused while photographing a mixed-race tourist couple in Hollywood. I’ve been fortunate in this regard—the worst experience I’ve endured thus far on Broadway occurred as I stole a quick image of an elderly Japanese woman, who immediately confronted me. She proceeded to follow me for about half a block, angrily stomping one foot to show her displeasure. That I couldn’t tell whether she was in fact deranged or just angry did little to assuage my guilt at having offended her with my presumptuous act.