John Lewell – Page 6 – John Lewell Photography

Holding Hands

July 25, 2020July 28, 2019 by John Lewell

In London, the sight of couples walking hand-in-hand is commonplace and unremarkable. Yet in Bangkok — the other city where I take most of my pictures — it’s rare to see open displays of affection. The only exceptions are tourists and a few young people who have no expectation of bumping into older (and possibly disapproving) relatives.

The difference between the two cities makes me think: what’s really going on with this public show of togetherness?

Is it simply a private exchange of affection between two people, like a kiss, only somewhat further down the scale of intensity? Or it really a public statement? One which says: “We’re declaring ourselves officially as a couple.”

Looking Closer
Taking candid pictures is an activity that raises — and sometimes answers — the kind of questions I’ve just raised.

To the casual eye, there’s only one category of hand-holding, namely, two people walking hand-in-hand. But the street photographer notices that there are many different ways of holding hands, surreptitiously (as on a first date), ostentatiously (committed couples), and elaborately (playful couples who may or may not be committed).

The most elaborate example of hand-holding I’ve seen is pictured in the featured image (above). You have to look carefully to see how their hands are entwined, his in hers and the same again with the opposite hands using the phone.

Incidentally, the above shot is entirely candid although it looks posed. I tried to see if there was another photographer in the vicinity, but there wasn’t. Maybe the couple were about to take a selfie.

Low Key
I have no idea whether the couple above, standing outside Wat Arun (Temple of Dawn) in Bangkok, are married or on a date. Their way of holding hands is very low key, not surreptitious but certainly understated.

I think they may be acting this way out of respect for local custom. Alternatively it could be an expression of individual personality. After all, the tee-shirt says: “Easy Does It.”

High Key
The couple walking down London’s Oxford Street (below) hold hands in a very different way. They make them into a feature! The man points to something in one of the shops and his partner willingly goes along with the gesture.

In each of these three images the central feature is the recurrent one of interlocked hands. Surely, this is surprising, given the grandeur of the different settings? In the Bangkok scene, in particular, we notice the clasped hands immediately, even though the temple takes up most of the background.

It makes no difference whether hand-holding is a private or public gesture, or a little bit of both. It seems that our gaze is drawn to the image of human touch, in whatever context it occurs.

Actions Speak Louder Than Words

July 25, 2020July 21, 2019 by John Lewell

One of the “rules of thumb” in movie editing is to “cut on action” in order to achieve a natural transition to the next scene. The movement within the action has the effect of preparing the eye for a new camera set-up, whether it’s a close-up or just an alternative view.

Can this idea be translated to street photography? I think it can, although, unless you’re working in video, there is clearly no “next scene” to cut to — and therefore no need to worry about transitions.

Finding action, such as someone gesticulating or moving rapidly, gives you the opportunity of freezing it into a dramatic pose. It also brings the image to life!

The story encapsulated by my featured image (above) is plain to see. The lady wants a low price; the driver is asking for more. I guess they’ll meet in the middle, with four fingers each.

Most street photos are devoid of action. I see far too many in which pedestrians seem to be idly standing around, like sheep. Yet what I see in the city is constant movement, gestures, and action. When you find action and freeze it at the right moment you’re giving the picture a vital meaning by introducing a narrative element.

No, We’re Not Sheep
Certainly, crowds of people who are united in common belief can appear, from a distance, to be sheep-like — as in a church congregation. In fact, people are often delighted to become one of “the flock” because of the religious connotations this idea carries.

man in front of graffiti wall, looking anxious

Up close, however, it’s a different matter. People are individuals, each with his or her own story: a story from which the camera records just one moment. When someone makes a gesture we often get an additional insight into that person’s character and we see them “doing” rather than just “being.”

I wouldn’t say the man in the photo (immediately above) is “doing” very much, but because of actions (grimacing, scratching his ear) he demonstrates a little bit more about his state of mind.

It Doesn’t Have to Be Demonstrative
In English, when a trivial action or incident is revealing of character, we often say it’s very “telling.” I guess this is an abbreviation of the word “storytelling” and it describes exactly what I mean.

The actions we freeze in street photos don’t have to be demonstrative. In fact, they can be very subtle. The onlooker has plenty of time to study the image and will certainly notice a trivial action, but only if it’s telling.

At first glance, the woman in pink (below) seems to be holding an umbrella, but actually her raised hand is shielding her eyes from the sun. Her other hand is entwined with that of her partner.

It’s now obvious that the “phantom umbrella” belongs to the woman walking behind them. Like you, I know nothing about the main actors in this photo, although the couple and the guy with his hand in his shorts all display distinctive personalities.

Ironically, it’s the demure woman with the umbrella, she with the downcast eyes (probably checking her phone) who reveals nothing at all in the photo. Yes, it’s cookery writer Oi Cheepchaiissara, my partner of thirty years, who was with me on this occasion. I’ve no idea how she got into the picture!

An Evening Walk Down Oxford Street

July 25, 2020July 14, 2019 by John Lewell

I’m going to tell you a secret. I have a habit of stockpiling these blog posts, writing several of them in advance, then sometimes scheduling them to appear, automatically, on successive weekends.

But habits are meant to be broken, especially if you’re a street photographer, and today I’m bringing you the latest crop of images. They’re not, I hasten to say, the entire set from a day’s shooting in London, but an extra… an afterthought, a mini half-hour project on which I embarked, a bit reluctantly, at the end of the day.

Catching Up
During late afternoon in a café near The Photographers’ Gallery I enjoyed a cup of coffee with an old friend whom I’d not seen in many years. She didn’t mind missing the Roger/Rafa semi-final to chat with a dishevelled photographer who’d been tramping the streets for hours. Afterwards, feeling rested, I was supposed to head for home, but something stopped me. It was the light!

The light was so good I was tempted into walking again, so I set off down Oxford Street towards Tottenham Court Road and then on to Holborn.

The ten pictures you see here are the ones I took on my 30-minute stroll, in order of their taking.

The featured image, at the top, was a good start, although I had to “unprocess” it by removing some sharpening I added in Photoshop. When sunlight is direct and flat (coming from behind the camera) you don’t always need to sharpen the image if you’ve used a high shutter speed.

The Other Nine
I tend to look for compositions where colourful dresses and backgrounds can play their part, so the next shot is mainly a combination of blacks, greys, and some prominent red.

I saw quite a few people in almost-primary colours: such as the two ladies in the shot below. I like the way the woman in the background is removing her sunglasses. Or is she putting them on?

Here (next) is a shot that conveys some of the hustle and bustle of Oxford Street in the rush-hour. At this point, I was quite a long way from Savile Row, as indeed was the guy in the snazzy suit. I’m not sure where one acquires such a suit, but it looks kinda neat on a Friday evening! Clearly, he’s already in a party mood.

man in bizarre suit with cartoon exclamations all over it

Although there are lots (lots!) of tourists in London right now, I think most of the people in my shots are Londoners returning home after work or shopping. Let me take this opportunity to say “thank you” to everyone for letting me take a picture (whether or not they/you noticed me doing it).

Now here (below) is a shot I really like. Not only does this lady have fantastic hair she seems to have attracted the attention of the person behind her — who is pointing at it! Unusually, everyone else in this shot has great hair, too, if not quite as spectacular as that possessed by the main character.

I love to get shots with high notes of deep red, as below — where a London bus matches the red in the tee-shirt, with little bits of red in the shop sign and the Tesco bag. Of course, at the time I saw only a courteous-looking man wearing an in-your-face tee, but the rest of the shot turned out well.

Man with "Deadpool" tee-shirt. Speech bubble says "Outta the way Nerd"

Whenever I walk down Oxford Street there’s always some kind of incident: an outburst, a scuffle, or a little petty larceny. I’m not sure what was happening in the shot below, but the gesture of the man on the left seems to be saying “Cool it!” whereas his friend is making his feelings known. I’m glad to say it all calmed down very quickly.

Unfortunately, these “incident shots” are rarely well-composed, so I just snap them and hope for the best. Better by far, from a photographic point of view, is the following shot, taken when I was getting close to Holborn Tube Station.

Of the Asadal restaurant, The Guardian’s food critic Jay Rayner wrote: “If Kim Jong-un is determined to press the button and take the rest of us with him, I want to go with the flavours of his food on my lips.” I don’t know if the people in my photo are talking about world politics (or food), but they’re certainly in serious discussion. Again, for me it’s reds and blacks and whites, and the lovely evening sun I’ll soon have to leave behind.

Finally, outside the station, I took one last shot, this time of a tall man holding forth while the others paused for reflection and refreshment.

It was time to leave. In another post I’ll show you the shots I took earlier in the day. Maybe I’ll schedule those in advance.

Man holding unlit, rolled up cigarette, talking to a male friend; two, much shorter women beside him

No, It’s Not That Way, It’s This Way

July 25, 2020July 7, 2019 by John Lewell

There’s always a possibility of getting a good shot when someone points in one direction but the person with them insists on looking elsewhere. It’s a scenario that seems very typical, revealing the reluctance of human beings to consider suggestions unless they already agree with them.

The featured image (above) shows just such an incident. The girl is pointing back towards the station, but the guy, phone in hand, is intent on ploughing ahead. I suspect their destination is somewhere midway between two stops on the Skytrain, so it’s probably just as quick to walk.

The trouble with taking this sort of picture is there’s precious little time to get the shot. They stop, she points, you point the camera: and click, it’s all over. There’s no time to compose the shot or get a decent angle. You have to take what comes.

In this instance, I’ve been quite lucky. It’s not a perfect composition by any means, but at least we can see the tip of the woman’s pointing finger. If it had been obscured by her nose (for example) the shot would have been ruined. As you can see, there’s only a fraction of a millimetre separating face from finger, but there’s clear blue poster between them.

No, It’s Not This Way, It’s That Way
Much the same is true of the picture below. Thank heavens the man in the white shirt didn’t move an inch further forward. He would have obscured the woman’s pointing finger.

As it is, his presence is actually welcome because he stops the eye wandering off the picture to the left. Then there’s the claw-like gesture he’s making with his left hand, which seems to add something mysterious to the image, as though we can’t quite grasp what it’s all about.

woman points to the right but she and her partner look left

There’s certainly one difference between this photo and the first, because here, both the woman and her partner are looking in the wrong direction. How extraordinary! She follows his gaze, rather than reinforcing her own gesture by looking in the direction of her pointing finger.

I think maybe both images show a certain tendency in men to ignore directional advice from their female friends. In fact, the more I examine the images, the more similar they seem to be — especially in the excitable gestures of the women and the cool refusal of the men to take any notice.

Can Street Photography Reveal Social Behaviour?
Perhaps you think street photography can teach us a few things about human behaviour after looking at these shots, but I reckon that would be going too far. They are just a couple of stills from the moving picture of reality and I don’t think they can tell us what people are thinking. You would need to know the unknowable: the sort of information provided by a writer of fiction rather than a photographer of real life.

What these images do is merely to suggest possible meanings; it’s up to the onlooker to interpret them. My work is done once I’ve taken the shots and placed them together on the same page.

I Love It When People Stoop

July 25, 2020June 30, 2019 by John Lewell

When people bend down in the street there’s usually a good reason for it. They’re picking up something important, or attending to an urgent task. No one “stoops in the street” (that sounds a bit rude, doesn’t it?) without good reason. In public it’s far more comfortable and dignified to remain vertical.

As a street photographer I love it when people stoop. It means I can catch one of those elusive but “decisive moments,” giving the image a justification for its existence. Every picture needs to justify itself by its inherent qualities.

When Stooping Reveals
Sometimes the photograph can benefit, not by showing the purpose of the figure’s bending action, but by revealing something significant in the space where the figure was standing. This is true of my featured image (above).

In this shot the subject is stooping very low and is looking out of the frame at the bottom. Despite his red shirt we therefore have to discount him as the main subject of the picture. Instead, he has been replaced by the dead birds with their yellow feet in the air. These feet seem to be pleading in supplication for second thoughts: “Don’t eat me yet…”

When Stooping Reveals Nothing
At other times we may come across an incident where the act of stooping reveals nothing whatsoever. For example, in the second picture (immediately above) we can’t see what the man is picking up. It’s clearly something fairly important because the lady with the scarf is watching intently. She “makes” the photo by displaying concentration on something which appears utterly trivial to the viewer of the image.

Street photography is often “about nothing,” in the classic Seinfeld sense. Larry David and Jerry Seinfeld famously pitched their series to NBC executives as being “about nothing,” (whereas, in fact, it was about everything: about the hassles of real life as experienced by city dwellers).

When Stooping Is Upstaged
In a good street photo there’s usually more than a single point of visual interest. But when a woman in shorts decides to bend, revealing a couple of shapely legs, then it’s difficult to provide anything more interesting (certainly to a heterosexual male).

In the shot (below) I’ve solved this delightful “problem” by including a carved figure of a demure woman in a full length costume. I chanced upon the scene in question while walking along a Bangkok street in the early evening. In a sense, it was a readymade image of “the sacred and the profane” with some of my regular motifs: clocks, legs, and faded colours.

Speed Is Essential
I’ll end this short post with a tip. If you see someone stooping in the street, be quick if you feel like taking the shot! I had just a split second to get each of these three pictures, meaning that there was no time to make adjustments to the settings. Fortunately, I’d already set them for just this kind of eventuality.

I have to add one proviso: yes, be quick, but also be deliberate. You mustn’t snatch the shot, because there’s not going to be a second opportunity to obtain it.

I’m sorry if the proviso makes the tip more complicated but it would be wrong for me to leave it out. I wouldn’t stoop so low!

The Charm of Time-Worn Advertising

July 25, 2020June 23, 2019 by John Lewell

Photography wrenches a moment from time and preserves it for later, perhaps forever. The concept of time is inherent to all photography. In street photography, especially, with its many “decisive moments,” time is ever-present, yet always, in a sense, absent.

I’m sorry if this sounds contradictory, but I think most people will recognise what I’m saying. You can’t take a photograph without making a deliberate or implied reference to time. Although you can take a moment out of time, you can’t remove entirely the concept of time from the image.

Because there’s an implied sense of time in a photograph it’s often rewarding to play deliberately with the idea: not just by freezing motion but also by including objects which demonstrate the passing of time. Thomas Hardy did this repeatedly in his novels, often to great effect.

Hardy’s Time-Worn Objects
For example, in “Tess of the d’Urbervilles” Hardy describes a book which is greatly feared by Tess’s mother (who nonetheless consults it frequently): “‘The Compleat Fortune-Teller’ was an old thick volume, which lay on a table at her elbow, so worn by pocketing that the margins had reached the edge of the type.”

Again, in the same novel, he describes the “broad tarnished moon” as having a “face resembling the outworn gold-leaf halo of some worm-eaten Tuscan saint.”

And at a key point in the narrative: “he drew from his pocket a small book, between the leaves of which was folded a letter, worn and soiled, as from much re-reading.”

All these objects, worn down by constant usage, evoke the passing of time in Hardy’s work. Can we achieve the same effect in street photography? I’m sure we can.

Why Advertising?
Old, soiled adverts speak to us directly about the passing of time. I think it’s because we are so accustomed to seeing new, fresh adverts for the latest products that it comes as a shock to see something being advertised with an old, worn poster or photograph.

At the top of this article is a shot I took in Kuala Lumpur of old tattoo work, the individual photographs deeply bleached by the sun. If you’re looking for the latest designs in tattoo art, this is probably not the place to go.

Talking of “places to go,” how about a visit to the Floating Market, Safari World, Tiger Temple or the Crocodile Farm? (See shot, above). They’re not far from central Bangkok and Lagacy Service can take you there in no time at all. I’m not sure if Lagacy Service is actually the guy on the motorbike, but it seems likely. I guess he unrolls the poster when he’s available.

Discarded Posters
To show the passing of time you don’t even need to find posters that are old: new ones give the same effect when they’re in the process of being discarded.

In one Bangkok street I came across an entire wall of posters which were being peeled and replaced. Some of the discarded ones looked pretty good. I felt like nicking them, but decided to take a photo instead. Obligingly, a man with an armful of new tattoos walked past. He won’t find those as easy to replace as a poster!

Looking at the three images in this article I think they make a well-matched trio.

In addition to the poster-art there’s a human figure in each one who adds something to the image. Yes, I know it’s all too easy to add a “gratuitous” or obligatory figure, but in these pictures the human characters do, at least, play an important role.

The first two shots (with old photographs in them) are accompanied by figures who are waiting and for whom time hangs heavily. However, both time and the included figure move more rapidly in the third image. The tattooed man doesn’t wait. He hurries quickly past but leaves his own frozen image behind in my photo.

Time? In street photography you can’t escape it.

City of Masks — Pollution and the Street Photographer

July 25, 2020June 17, 2019 by John Lewell

As a street photographer I’ve become very conscious of “particulate matter” (PM) in the atmosphere of our major cities. You can call it “pollution” but PM refers specifically to the microscopic particles that float in the air — and which we breathe into our lungs unless we wear a mask.

A few months ago Bangkok became a “City of Masks” when a cloud of pollution lingered over the city for several weeks, making the atmosphere even worse than usual. If you think pollution is bad in London or Los Angeles, then Bangkok in these conditions is terrible, but even then, far surpassed by Indian cities such as Mumbai or Delhi.

I ventured out on to the streets day after day, gulping down bad air while photographing people in masks. I got a few OK shots, including this one on Christmas Day:

MadeinTYO
The poster says “MadeinTYO” (TYO=Tokyo), which may remind us that the ubiquitous wearing of respiratory masks in the street is a practice that started in Japan. Yet back in Europe, people began to notice that Japanese tourists would often wear masks on the street even on a clear day. Whatever was going on?

In fact, the Japanese nearly always wear a mask if they have a cold. Out of concern for others they keep the cold to themselves: a laudable practice — and quite the opposite of what we often experience in the west. Here it’s not uncommon to be blasted with a sneeze aimed straight at one’s head. I’ve come close to punching someone who does that!

Alas, there’s another reason to wear a mask and it’s called PM2.5. This is particulate matter with an individual particle size of 2.5 micrometres (microns) or less (which is about 3% the width of a human hair). You can’t see these particles with the naked eye, but you can certainly sense their presence.

PM2.5 particles are much smaller than such pollutants as dust, mould or pollen. They come from vehicle exhausts, wood burning, forest fires, airplanes and power plants. They penetrate deep into the lungs, reaching the circulatory system itself and causing heart and lung disease.

Here’s the Rap
NOTE: Yes, I know, “MadeinTYO” is actually the name of an American rap artist, in fact the brother of “Rolls Royce Ritzy” who changed his name recently to “24hrs.” I don’t know if either of them sing about air pollution, but it’s only a matter of time before a rap artist adopts the name “PM2.5.” ZebraX already sings about it.

Post Measles
To continue the narrative: my Bangkok street photography came to a grinding halt at the beginning of the year when I caught measles. Maybe someone sneezed on me! Anyway, the resulting pulmonary wheeziness which hung around for a few weeks after I recovered made me very aware of the polluted atmosphere.

I started wearing a mask.

Interestingly (and despite a few people cackling with laughter at the unusual sight of a westerner with a mask) I found street photography easier to do, especially when the subject was also wearing one. There seemed to be a confederacy of mask-wearers of which I was previously unaware.

Looking for Variations
I started looking for variations on the theme of masks, first by seeing how many mask-wearers I could get into the frame. My featured image (at the top of the article) shows no fewer than five people in masks, two of whom are probably Japanese.

Next, I tried to find correspondences between a mask and a nearby object:

In the above shot the bicycle wheel looks like it’s wearing a mask, but that’s a bit ironic as it’s supposedly a non-polluting form of transport. It’s certainly eye-catching in its (high polluting) plastic wrapper.

There’s a kind of visual correspondence in the next shot, too. I’m not sure if the lady was wearing a mask or a “burqa lite,” but she happened to be passing a coil of black cables… then there’s the red and white cones… plus the red and black coach… It all comes together, and no, the shot wouldn’t be better in black and white.

I think I’d rather breathe in PM2.5 than shoot with a dedicated B&W camera.

Just Passing By

July 25, 2020June 9, 2019 by John Lewell

As I’ve mentioned before in this blog, there are two basic strategies in street photography: namely, walking around in the classic manner of the “flaneur,” or else standing in one position to wait for passing trade.

Oh sure, it can be a lot more complicated because there are so many factors to consider, whichever of these two strategies you employ. Moving around or standing still are just the polar extremes of what all street photographers do, which is a combination of the two.

If you’re inclined to spend more time standing still, then it’s very likely you’ll want to photograph passers-by. After all, what else is there? You won’t come across interesting incidents, unless one of them occurs in front of you. But on a busy street you will certainly be rewarded by a motley crowd of people walking, running, and occasionally skateboarding past you. They are your only subject.

The Charm of the Passer-By
I love passers-by. I love the way they walk in front of the camera and I never see them again (except in my pictures).

The sudden appearance and disappearance of so many people gives me a feeling that life, although transitory, is purposeful. People are going about their business, rather than being slumped in doorways or standing around, idly chatting.

My featured shot (above) shows some people who are simply walking past the camera on a bright but slightly cloudy day in Bangkok. I’ve deliberately photographed them walking past a background that’s visually interesting. What’s more, I’ve chosen subjects who are themselves visually appealing in their dress and personalities.

In particular, I like the contrasting styles of their name tag lanyards! Finding contrast, however subtle, is one of the keys to a good street photograph.

When a Passer-By Completes the Composition
The central figure in the picture immediately above is the woman washing the pavement, but it’s the passer-by who completes the composition. He balances the bicycle on the left.

I think the picture “works” as a composition, although I could have excluded both the passer-by and the bicycle by moving in closer. However, I would then have lost much of the magnificent background.

I had been wanting to get a shot of this building for ages, but had previously been hampered by cars parked outside. This time was different. Instead of cars: a woman with a yellow bucket! All I needed was a passer-by to balance the image. I’m glad he didn’t step off the pavement to avoid the water.

When Passers-By Walk Past Themselves
Unless people look in the direction of the camera, which is not usually desirable, photos of passers-by are likely to show faces in profile or three-quarter view. There is a solution to this problem, but it’s hard to implement.

People walking past a reflective window often check their own appearance. I think that’s what is happening in the shot above. These two women are very stylish and “fashion-aware,” so it’s natural that one of them might take a mental selfie as she walks past the window.

In doing so, I’ve been able to take a double-double portrait: one in which both subjects are shown twice, in profile and either three-quarter or full face. Thankfully, I’ve managed to avoid taking my own reflection by accident.

Elsewhere in This Blog
Have I done justice to passers-by? Personally, I think they make a great subject, offering hundreds of creative possibilities, for example: in “Getting Faces in Big Close-Up, Candidly.”

If you read some of my other articles you’ll find many more. Don’t pass them by!

Doing the Vivian Maier Thing

July 25, 2020June 2, 2019 by John Lewell

The great American street photographer Vivian Maier (1926–2009) often included her own reflection in her pictures. She did it very deliberately, either as a kind of signature motif or else as a question: “Who am I? A Chicago nanny or a great photographer?”

You get a good impression of Maier herself in these shots. When they’re placed in series you can see her neat appearance, her style of dress, and her thoughtfulness.

In the photography itself you can also see Maier’s inventiveness and her visual wit. In one photo, her characteristic shadow, complete with hat and handbag, falls on a poster which carries the words “Heaven Can Wait,” almost obliterating the angel.

Self Reflections
I don’t attempt to imitate Vivian Maier’s work, but opportunities do present themselves on occasions when taking a self-reflection is either unavoidable or desirable.

In the featured image (at the top) I was struck by the colour combinations and the way in which the curves and straight lines seemed to be at war with each other. The arrow points to the main subject: the two mannequins who face into an empty street.

I’m afraid you have to look closely to find “the Vivian Maier thing.” It’s there in one of the mirrors that are used for helping motorists see around corners at a junction. My reflection is in the red mirror, to the left of the scooter.

The Distant View
Maieresque? Not really. In the featured image I’m too distant to be recognisable by others, but I can recognise myself. Much the same is true of the image immediately above.

When you include a distant image of yourself in a street photo, the effect is more like one of Alfred Hitchcock’s walk-on appearances, when he famously intruded into his movies as an extra in the background.

In my image of men cleaning office windows in Kuala Lumpur, the self-reflection is very much a secondary part of the visual interest. We’re attracted first by the bright red squeegee on a stick, then we puzzle over the shapes of the reflected city. At first, it looks more like a collage than a reflection.

Eventually, the eye is drawn to the lower left where it looks as though the cleaner is working on a different reflection altogether. But the straight line separating the lower third of the first five panes of glass is, in fact, a reflection of a curtain wall, in front of which I’m standing.

You’ve Seen It Before
I’ve already used the next shot (below) in a previous post. Well, I mentioned that I don’t often do “the Vivian Maier thing,” so I don’t have a surfeit of material.

In this shot I’m much more recognisable (I’m the one with the camera). As a composition the shot is better than the one above it, because it packs everything into a more balanced frame, linked together by the continuation of the giant necklace.

I think I found the best viewpoint for taking the shot. The window was mostly in shade, but I was standing in sunlight, so I needed to be careful with the exposure. The complex reflections of the high balustrade at the top of the image add hugely to the composition.

Slightly Unnerving
Sometimes, the photo which results from taking a self-reflection can be a bit unnerving, deliberately so in the final shot (below).

I came across a Bangkok tailor’s shop (“classic tailoring with a touch of finesse”) that had a large mirror covering the wall at the back. This mirror turned the top-hatted dummy at the front into a giant silhouette. He seems menacing, doesn’t he? Maybe I seem menacing, too, but it was one of those high-pollution days and I was still wheezing after recovering from a virus infection.

If you look closely at the image you can see a person inside, watching video. I’m not sure if many people ever look close enough to spot such things as a sneakered foot and the back of a head when both are in deep shade, but in this case they all add to the mystery, even if you’re only dimly aware of them.

Alas, in this shot I’m not as neatly dressed as Vivian Maier and I doubt if she ever wore a mask. Maybe I should have gone inside for a bit of tailoring with a touch of finesse.

Should the Photo Speak for Itself?

July 25, 2020May 26, 2019 by John Lewell

…or is it OK to add a lengthy caption to elucidate its meaning?

I know this is a contentious issue among “purist photographers” who believe fervently that the image should stand alone, without any explanation at all. Their argument goes something like this:

“What’s the point of taking a photo if you then need to tell people what’s good about it? If the picture is good enough it will be understood by anyone who sees it, especially by other photographers who’ve addressed similar subjects and encountered the same problems of making a meaningful image.”

Having studied art history I don’t agree with this view because I’ve learned a huge amount from expert commentary and I know it to be indispensable to our understanding of the subject.

Great paintings can’t always speak for themselves. They’re created within an historical and social context, often with a heavy dose of intellectual content. Today’s onlooker has a different store of knowledge and is maybe a bit rusty on Greek, Roman and Biblical tales, depictions of which fill the paintings on gallery walls. Surely it’s helpful to know exactly why Judith is holding the head of Holofernes when you see her doing so in a painting by Botticelli, Caravaggio or Gustav Klimt?

Explaining Your Work
In my recent book “Street Photography Is Cool” I analyse many of my photos and draw the viewer’s attention to aspects of their meaning, composition, and the aesthetic intent behind them. I do the same in these blog posts. If you ask me why I do this, sometimes my reply is to show you another photo and talk about that!

For example, take the featured image at the top of this article. I’ve shown this to several people whose reaction has clearly revealed a complete misunderstanding of the image. “Sure, that’s a typical street scene in busy Bangkok.”

I reply: “Yes, but do you notice anything peculiar about it?”

If they’re viewing it on the small screen of a smartphone the answer is usually a hesitant “no.”

“Look at the traffic cop on the left,” I explain. “He’s spattered with bird poo. That’s because he’s fake.”

At this point there’s a sudden exclamation of recognition when the viewer gets the message and sees why I took the picture.

The Fake and the Real
Perhaps this is obvious to you if you’re viewing the photo on your desktop display, but on a phone the traffic cop looks quite real, especially if you give the image just a cursory glance.

Normally, it can be disappointing when people don’t “get the point,” but in this instance I find it amusing. Exploring the fine dividing line between what’s fake and what’s real is one of the themes of my street photography. When people are fooled, I think I’m achieving my goal.

Incidentally, a year later I went back to the same spot at night and took another picture of the fake cop (below).

It’s fun to see him from the front. He looks quite smart, doesn’t he? So maybe someone’s cleaned him up in the intervening months. The remaining bits of bird poo look more recent.

Of course, the image may still need some explanation for people who don’t read Thai. The grand announcement on the board he’s holding so proudly is simply telling drivers that the entrance to the coach station is 100 metres further down the road.

I think that splendid coach is going even further in the opposite direction. It’ll take you all the way to Laem Ngop ferry, for crossing to Elephant Island (Koh Chang). No kidding.