Summary

The author of the article discusses their passion for street photography, describing it as a form of "rejection therapy" that involves capturing candid moments of people in public spaces, often facing fear and rejection in the process.

Abstract

The article titled "I Think I Just Fell In Love With Street Photography" delves into the author's fascination with capturing the essence of people through their expressions and actions in everyday life. The author equates street photography to "rejection therapy" due to the inherent challenges of approaching strangers, the potential for rejection, and the need to overcome personal fears and anxieties. Street photography is portrayed as a solitary, unpredictable endeavor that requires quick decision-making, a keen eye for lighting and emotion, and respect for the subjects' privacy and consent. Despite the difficulties, the author finds the process deeply rewarding, as it allows for the creation of meaningful images that tell a story and reflect the photographer's personal triumphs over fear and self-doubt.

Opinions

The author enjoys the imaginative aspect of street photography, likening it to creating characters in a role-playing game by envisioning their backstories.
Street photography is seen as a pure form of capturing life, relying on the spontaneity of the moment rather than planned setups.
The author acknowledges the complexity of photographing people, recognizing their right to privacy and concerns about how their images might be used.
The fear of rejection is a significant aspect of the craft, with the author describing the anxiety of approaching strangers and the possibility of being turned down.
The article suggests that people with dogs are more approachable subjects for street photography.
The author views street photography as a solitary activity that requires blending into the environment to document life unobtrusively.
The craft is described as a personal battle with fear, where success is met with a sense of pride and accomplishment that outweighs the initial anxiety.
The author sees street photography as a form of self-therapy, helping to confront and overcome fears and insecurities.
Despite the challenges, the author is drawn to the contradictory nature of street photography—interacting with people while often working alone, and seeking deep connections while avoiding small talk.

I Think I Just Fell In Love With Street Photography

It’s Rejection Therapy With A Camera

No, I don’t want your flyer (Photo by me)

I’ve always been drawn to pictures of people.

You can imagine the stories of their lives. Just what are they thinking about? Like creating characters in a role-playing game, I try to imagine their origin stories.

Where did they come from? How did they grow up? What special powers and talents do they have?

Everyone has an origin story.

I can study people through street photography.

In street photography, you document people doing mundane things without the luxury of a planned studio setup or the careful composition of portrait shots.

Chinese can hold joss sticks while praying — believing the smoke helps to convey their prayers to their god. (Photo by me)

It’s just you, the streets and your camera.

You are there as an observer of the ebb and flow of life, documenting people’s unfiltered expressions and emotions.

You need to shoot with what you have.

The origin of the sales pitch (Photo by me)

Catch the moment or it’s gone.

In street, you only have one shot to catch the moment.

Compare this with architecture photography.

Buildings will always be there. Light shifts and colours change, but cityscapes and architectures do not change from moment to moment. You can always come back again to take another photo if you missed the moment.

But in street, the moment lasts for an instant. You need to grab it, or it’s gone.

You need to make split-second decisions on what to include or what not to include in the frame. You need to think about lighting and people’s emotions while shooting without the luxury of time of planning your photos in street photography.

Humans are also more complex than buildings.

They can reject you.

Swear at you.

Scold you.

People may or may not like their picture taken. In an era concerned with personal data privacy, photo leaks and how you’re going to use their personal photos, they have all the right to be concerned about how you’re going to use your photos.

You can even be sued (not in Singapore thankfully) if you take a picture of someone.

What if I’m a serial killer secretly looking for my next mark? (I’m not)

What if I want to steal your puppies? (MAYBE).

In a world where your photos can be instantly exposed to millions of people, I get it.

You will feel the fear, and feel it again and again.

As part of our workshop on street photography I attended, we needed to cold approach people and ask them:

“Excuse me, can I take a photo of you?”

Dread. Fear. Blind Terror.

You’re asking me to stop people in the middle of the street, interrupting them (being pesky) and ask them to take their photo. (What if my camera or brain decides to take a break?)

With my voice quavering and insides turning to jelly, I sheepishly raised my hand to get their attention.

“…er, ex…excuse me…”

I approached about 4 people.

I had 4 no’s.

People hurried off when I pointed the camera at them, waved me off or told me off.

Not great.

I did, however, have a greater success rate with people with dogs.

Just look at how tiny that puppy is (Photo by me)

Maybe people with dogs are warmer or more used to people with cameras? I don’t know.

Dogs make for great alibis.

Maybe I’ll ask people if they want to take a photo with their dogs.

For a craft that’s so focused on people, street photography is a solitary activity.

For best results, you need to go at it alone.

Photographers draw attention. And not always the good kind. In street, you want to be the unseen documenter of human life on the street.

You need to get up close and personal with people and yet maintain your invisibility. Sometimes I felt like a ninja blending in with the crowd.

We acknowledged other photographers with furtive nods, eye twitches or by a slight curve of our lips.

Like speaking a unique form of Morse code only street photographers know.

Street photography is rejection therapy.

For someone who loves studying people and learning about them, I can get terrible self-doubt and anxiety before I go out or start taking photos in the street.

It’s a constant battle between my insecurities, fears and struggles and the love for the craft.

I am in a constant battle with fear.

Often, I lose.

But in those times I succeed, I look back on these images and don’t regret these opportunities I took. Because I remember the fear I had to fight to get them. I remember the adrenaline and self-doubt I had to conquer.

Maybe as a creative, this is what it means to be proud of your work.

Maybe street photography is secretly rejection therapy masquerading as a camera.

I don’t know why I’m drawn to this walking contradiction of a craft.

Taking photos of people but not with people. Analysing people, looking for deep conversations and emotional expression, but detesting small talk. I guess I am a walking contradiction, myself. Who knows?

Loved this post? Feel free to 👏! Follow me on Instagram, LinkedIn, Twitter to keep up with me! I also write actively on Quora.