Technical

There’s a school of thought which says the best compositions are the tried and tested ones, but another which insists on the need to be creative and avoid the obvious. Who’s right? And why?

No art form can advance if all the people who practice it merely adhere to a set of rules, however sensible these rules may appear to be. After all, fashion changes. Nature evolves. Dinosaurs become “so last year.”

I’m conservative by nature and I strongly disapprove when someone builds an ugly extension to a house I once occupied, or when the government imposes new regulations affecting tax or business. But in matters of art I assume the role of agitator, provocateur, and would-be revolutionary.

Invention v. Tradition
Art requires both stability and instability: the steady hand of tradition and the killer instinct of revolution. Most artists combine characteristics from both categories. Their creative talents compel them to be inventive, but taste, tradition, and a desire to communicate in a language people understand — all act as restraints, keeping them firmly grounded.

I’m guessing that many street photographers find themselves caught in this dilemma when they have to make basic decisions about where and when to point the camera, how to frame the composition, and what camera settings to use.

When you’re faced with thousands of different options you need to have an overriding purpose to govern your actions. Honing this purpose (yes, you can hone a purpose!) consists of balancing the stable and unstable elements in your work. You need to cling to certain things — such as your guiding moral sense, or a desire to represent objects faithfully, or even something simple like retaining at least one true vertical in the image — while still leaving room to experiment and play.

Composition, For Example
I think this process can best be demonstrated in composition, which is clearly one of the most fundamental aspects of street photography.

Being guided by easy rules of thumb like the “rule of thirds” is not sufficient in matters of composition. You need a much larger repertoire of compositions that you know will work. For me, composition is a key element in my photography, so if I had only one overriding option — such as compose in thirds — I’d soon get very bored with the results.

Here are a few options among the dozens you can use. You can divide the image into two halves, separated by a natural dividing line, providing there is a vital relationship between each side of the image. Alternatively, you can base the composition on a pyramid shape, anchored by deep shade at the bottom and tapering to a point higher up the frame. Or you can make one object the central focus of the image, with all the other figures and objects seeming to dance around it.

I chose the last of these three options when I took the featured image (above). My overriding purpose (honed beforehand) was to keep the composition stable while moving in close to achieve some kind of intimacy with the subject. In other words, I was reasonably certain about the effect of the stable composition, less so regarding the “dance” of the others elements around it.

In the Centre
The central object is the voluminous bra and panty set hanging from a plastic chain on the stall. The bra says “I love you, I love you” over and over again, while the other item says “Shine like a star, shine like a star.”

The young women take no interest in the large brassiere, being more concerned with feeling the quality of various inserts that will make breasts look big enough to fill it. It’s as though the large bra has been deliberately displayed as the standard size, to which all women must adjust themselves artificially — regardless of their enviable figures.

By moving in close I was able to capture several elements that express the feeling and message of the content. One woman scratches the back of her head in a gesture of indecision, the other two feel the sponginess of the inserts. Are they serious? Or is this the female equivalent of “kicking the tyres,” as when men prowl around the forecourt of a car dealership?

Frankly, I have no idea — and I didn’t really like to ask. In fact, I don’t think they were aware that I was taking pictures. I would have told them they could save their money by not believing the message on the box: “Become attractive lady with perfect breast.” To my mind, any lady with “perfect leg” is, by definition, attractive.

Avoiding the Obvious
Here’s another, perhaps less exciting subject, to which I’ve applied the same principle. I’ve placed the purple backpack in the centre of the frame, partly because it’s such a striking colour but also because it’s being gripped firmly by a young man’s hand. Behind him are a stack of posters: Chairman Mao posters on the left, and kung fu movie posters on the right.

Because it’s a stall selling antiques and memorabilia, everything on it is old, or, being in Hong Kong, old-ish. Only the man’s hand is young and alive. Even his bag has seen better days!

My method, as before, was first to find the content for a photograph, then to chose a composition, and finally to figure out the best way — and the best moment — to get the shot. As always in street photography, timing was crucial. It was important to get a clear image of Chairman Mao on one side and Bruce Lee in “The Way of the Dragon” on the other. The impression I wanted to give was of a young man holding on to the present in the midst of the past, brought to a standstill by the undesirability of all the objects offered for sale.

In neither of the examples I’ve given were the compositions obvious on first looking at the scene in front of me. When faced with a market stall a photographer naturally sees the stallholder as a potential target, perhaps in conversation with a customer. You have to look more closely to see what’s less obvious, to find the details that allow you to tell a different story.

By moving in close, by shifting your attention up, down or to the side, and by ignoring the siren call of the obvious — you can uncover stories where you least expect them. That’s the joy of street photography. When it works.

One of those silly “rules of thumb” in street photography is: “You can never get too close.” I think you can, but I’m not going to show any examples of it here.

There’s close and there’s too close. We need to define which is which. My personal view is that “too close” is when the lens begins to distort faces, as when you shove a 28mm lens a couple of feet away from somebody’s nose. I mean: what do you expect? The result is always the uglification of the subject — and frankly, I don’t think that’s fair.

Shooting strangers close enough to distort their faces is like shooting polar bears with a machine gun from a helicopter. The latter has nothing to do with “sport” and the former nothing to do with street photography.

After all, where’s the street? Without a little bit of context, the photo is not a street photo but simply a candid portrait, taken at too close a range.

Close, But Not Too Close
The pictures I’m showing here represent the maximum closeness I’m willing to tolerate. My featured image (above) shows a smartly dressed (and presumably married) couple checking their phones. I was tempted to use it for a blog post called “Everyone’s On the Phone,” but I had so many others from the same session it became surplus to requirements.

There was something so “Titianesque” about the woman’s beautiful scarf I couldn’t resist taking a shot as I walked past. I wasn’t looking through the viewfinder so I could only guess the framing and focus. Fortunately, this gets easier with practice, and I was confident the shot would work.

Apart from the subjects’ smart dress, their absorption in their task (probably checking a map), and the low camera position, what makes the image is the quality of the light. This was no accident. Before scheduling a day’s street photography I study the weather forecasts closely to make sure conditions will be favourable.

It’s possible to shoot in all weathers, but I prefer the day to be cloudy but bright, illuminating people and their surroundings with soft, even light. Only on those days can you move in close and take candid street portraits which are not unflattering to the subject.

The Virtue of Light and Colour
Here’s another example (below), taken two hours later. It’s now around lunchtime — and on a sunny day this would have been a terrible shot. As it is, the colourful jackets of these ladies are shown to best advantage (did they buy them together?) even though the lady at the back is curiously out of step with the others. Fortunately, the word “Splash” appears just above her head, accentuating the discrepancy and making it seem deliberate.

You can see why I like to photograph in colour. Once you’ve decided to use colour you have to start thinking about the light — and, of course, the colours in the subject. That’s why I concentrate on light and colour, which I regard as being at least the equal of “form” in the triumvirate of key elements in the art of street photography.

My next shot (below) was also taken in good light. On carnival days in my hometown you’re pretty much guaranteed to see some colour, but you just have to hope for the right conditions. This time, I was lucky. The light was ideal for candid portraits, bringing out the beauty of everyone who’d chosen to present themselves attractively.

The girls in the photo are wearing dresses that are somewhat in the Renaissance style, with flared shoulders not unlike Michelangelo’s design for the Swiss Guard at the Vatican. Sorry Michelangelo, I much prefer this shortsleeved, feminine version, without the deep yellow. The Swiss Guard always seem to be “out of gamut” in colour photography, making yellow look orange in most digital pictures.

When the Sun Comes Out
Here’s a final shot which I’m including to show the difference when the sun comes out. It’s not bad — I like its informality and the way in which the subject is clutching her jacket under one arm. The April sun is not especially intense, but it’s not as flattering as the gentle light of an overcast day.

You can tell a lot about the uncertainty of the weather by looking at the photo. Whereas the main subject has removed her jacket, the girl with the red and grey coat is keeping hers on, while another person at the edge of the frame appears to have ventured out in a flimsy, sleeveless dress.

It makes me wonder. Are they all calling up to get the latest weather forecast? Or are they checking if their lunch dates are on their way?

That’s the trouble when “Everyone’s On the Phone.” You can never tell what they’re doing, no matter how “Up Close and Personal” you get.

Here’s a Long List of candidates.

Drama, humour, colour, depth, eye-catching interest, facial expressions, sharp focus, balance, frame-filling content, texture, beauty (“Did someone say beauty? What do you think this is? Art? Get the hell outta here!”) clarity, mystery (“Can you have clarity and mystery in the same image?”) mean-streets grittiness, energy, decisive moments…

Oh, sure. Those are all very nice, but I’m afraid the three most important factors in street photography are a little bit…excuse the pun…a little bit more pedestrian.

Light. Background. Figures.

If you pay attention to those three factors (they’re not ranked in order of importance) a lot of the others will take care of themselves. At least, they’ll show up occasionally if you’re patient.

Light
When photographers talk about “good light” and “bad light” they’re making a subjective judgement rather than indicating something that can be identified and measured. “Good light” means light which is best-suited to the style of the individual photographer; while “bad light” makes it more difficult to achieve images in the same or similar style.

For example, if you see the city as being a grim, prison-like environment, populated by inhabitants who are miserable and downtrodden, then you’re unlikely to get the best results by taking photos bathed in the gentle rays of the evening sun.

In street photography there is very little you can do about the light except take advantage of it or wait for it to change. I have friends who like to go out with off-camera flash, an accessory that suits their style of photography. Personally, I find it an encumbrance, so I use natural light most of the time, augmented by light from shop windows, neon signs, street lamps and car headlights.

If you want to put in a full day’s work on the street, your style needs to be sufficiently accommodating to include morning, noon and evening light. Intensely sunny days are the most challenging — as well as being the most frequent in some countries. For my own style I prefer bright days that are just slightly overcast (giving results like those in my featured image, above). Wouldn’t it be good if we could order these at breakfast? “Sunny side up? No, thanks, I’ll have mine with a thin covering of cloud.”

Background
Photographs are often made or ruined by what’s in the background. Nowhere is this more true than in street photography. The background can be every bit as important to the picture as the foreground figures. Sometimes the background plays a greater role; sometimes it’s “just there,” minding its own business while the figures dominate the scene.

I often think of these two elements — background and figures — as working hand-in-glove with each other, or, to vary the metaphor, behaving like a singer’s voice and its musical accompaniment. In some works of music the accompaniment is mere strumming, while the voice soars above it. But sometimes there can be a dialogue between the two, yielding additional layers of meaning.

A street photograph can show men and women dominating or being dominated by their environment. Equally, it can show them moving within a space that supports and reinforces their presence. All of these three types of street photograph are valid and you may have a preference for one over the other.

For example, if your eye is caught by the abstract lines of buildings illuminated by shafts of light, you may like to have tiny figures in the middle distance and nothing more. Create a set of images like that and you’ll impress the jury. But eventually the dynamics of street photography will command you to move in closer: to focus on the figures whose activities and movements are the true subject of this rewarding but difficult art form.

Figures
Given that figures are so highly significant in street photography, shouldn’t we be identifying the most likely people to fill the frame and start chasing them down the street?

Well, no, that’s not the best tactic, although I admit I use it occasionally. A better tactic is to chose your background, then wait for the right figure to move in front of it (as below). This, I suppose, is the classic ploy known to all experienced street photographers. When you choose the background you can also, in a sense, choose the light — because light can hit the background in many ways: full-on or at an angle.

Facial expressions, from joy to misery, may become a key feature in your work, but unless you’ve allocated most of the frame to people’s heads then much of the image will still be torsos, arms, shoulders, maybe even legs as well. That’s why I refer to “figures” as one of the three most important elements. Your photo can have emotional content, expressed facially, but there’s no escaping the considerations of form. From a formal point of view every part of each figure’s body makes a contribution to the success or failure of the image.

Working with a wide angle lens, you’ll capture figures plus their immediate background in sharp focus. However, there’s usually very little depth-of-field between the point of focus and the camera — far less than between subject and background. It you include figures between the point of focus and the camera you’re likely to make them large and blurred: an effect that spoils many street photos, in my opinion.

There’s a good reason for why the “foreground bokeh” effect looks unsatisfactory. When a figure is shown large it’s more noticeable and deemed by the viewer to be more important, but if it’s blurred it’s clearly intended to be less important. This is a contradiction! It makes me uneasy. By all means use it if you want to instill a sense of unease in the viewer.

So there are the three main factors of street photography: light, background, figures. Think about all three of them at the same time and you’ll be on the right track to taking great photos.