My Twist on Street Photography

Street photography, simply put, involves capturing and documenting candid accounts of urban activity and human interaction.  Seems pretty straightforward, right?  Hang out in a bustling outdoor market or a busy public plaza with an unassuming camera and you're presented with countless photo opportunities. Finding a spot and blending into the background, the photographer strives to be inconspicuous and discrete so as to not affect the reactions or expressions of the subject.  Plan to leave the big glass home and the tripod in the car if you want to successfully engage in street photography.  But sometimes getting a good shot requires you to leave your comfort zone and approach someone--perhaps a street musician, a market vendor or a cafe worker.  In these cases the photographer often seeks permission or a non-verbal consent (a nod of the head maybe) before shooting--but not always.

Breaking out of one's comfort zone is not always easy yet it can be done with some practice.  Shooting with a partner or a small group helps to overcome insecurities and build confidence.  I have had the good fortune of shooting with some wonderful mentors (Valerie Jardin, for one) and many photo friends, and through these opportunities I've discovered that--for me, anyway--it's much easier to engage in street photography when I'm with other photographers or another person.

A woman waiting on a bench in downtown Minneapolis watches a street performer with a seemingly passive interest.

Sometimes being on the street or out in public space with a camera we get to capture special moments-maybe a marriage proposal, a playful exchange between two friends or a tender moment.

But I didn't intend for this to be a post primarily about street photography, as I'm certainly no expert in the matter.  Instead I wanted to share a couple experiences I've had in which the subjects requested copies of the image or images.  The photographers I've talked to all seem willing to share photos with their public subjects.

The first time this happened to me I was in Rice Park in Saint Paul.  There were a few young adults splashing about the in fountain, generally having a good time, seemingly oblivious to anyone else.  I took a few photos of them engaged in their fun and frolic in between bites of my sandwich.  Before packing up my lunch and leaving the park, one of the teens tentatively approached me and asked me if I had been photographing them.  Before I could respond, the young lady continued, "Because if you were, we were wondering if you'd send us a couple!"  I said I would be happy to do so and she gave me their email addresses.

Cooling off in the Rice Park fountain

Admittedly, the images I took of the kids weren't all that good; they weren't carefully composed and yet they told a story.  To these two teens and their friends, the images will serve as happy reminders of this carefree moment in their young lives.  They were so thrilled to get the copies that I knew I would always be willing to share the moment, if possible.

I was again able to help someone document a moment recently in Duluth while visiting the Hawk Ridge Bird Observatory. There were many organized activities occurring such as banding and releasing songbirds and raptors.  One of the ways the organization raises money is to offer "sponsorships" of the released birds. In so doing, the sponsor gets to be the one to release the bird back into the wild and can track the bird's movements.  A mother decided to sponsor a bird so that her daughter could release it. She had no camera with her so I offered to take a couple photos and send them to her.  She was so thankful.  Again, these were not fine art photographs--I was simply capturing a memory for the mother and daughter to enjoy years into the future.

Also up in Duluth on a separate weekend, we came across two women preparing to paddleboard on Lake Superior from Brighton Beach.  I asked if I could take some photos of them as they got their gear ready.  They were fine with that and gave me their email addresses so I could send them a couple photos, which I said I'd be happy to do to return the favor.

On their knees, the two women paddled out into the Lake, and far enough out to be beyond the breaking waves, they stood on their boards and with the single paddle, maneuvered across the water.

Paddleboarders Emi and Kathy paddle their way out in Lake Superior

The 520-foot long Alpena cruises past Brighton Beach on her way to the Duluth harbor

Calling back to her friend:  "C'mon, slow poke!"

Another view of the padleboarders with the Alpena in the background heading toward the Duluth harbor

A sea plane buzzes the paddleboarders on Lake Superior

The women were far enough out into the lake that I needed every bit of my 300 mm lens to get some good shots.  After shooting a few dozen images we took off, having saved their email addresses on my iPhone using the "Notes" app.

It wasn't until a week or so later when I was getting ready to send them the photos that I realized I no longer had the ladies' email addresses.  I was terribly sad to not be able to share these images with Emi and Kathy.  I took to Facebook in the hopes that someone would recognize them, even reaching out to websites like the Duluth News Tribune, North Shore SUP Paddleboarding and others asking for help. Getting no response with the shared images, I researched the issue of disappearing notes from an iPhone and learned it's a frustrating issue shared by many people.  After a few more days of research, I finally found the missing note, along with other notes that had previously gone missing, on my laptop in my Yahoo folder.  I was happy to have found the note, but terribly irritated that a note saved on my phone would somehow, on its own, without prompting from me or without being backed up or synched, would delete itself from my phone and migrate to a buried folder on a webmail account on my computer.  (Lesson: if you're missing a note and it was important--there may be hope!)

I sent Emi and Kathy an email with a link to where the photos were saved, sparing them the details and saga of how I lost then found their addresses, and I got this response back from them the next morning:

"What a complete and wonderful surprise to wake up to! These pictures are fantastic! How can I express enough how grateful I am.  That was quite the adventure that day.  I took a quick peak at some of your other images and they are beautiful. The north shore has always felt a little bit like going home for me. So many amazing memories there, and now we have these to add to it.  Thanks so much again. Happy Thanksgiving!"

And that's why I don't mind selectively sharing photos.  I don't think sharing a few photos diminishes the value of my work nor do I think helping out others by providing photographs they'd otherwise never have in any way undercuts the role of the professional photographer, although I'd be interested to hear dissenting opinions on that topic.  There's a time and place for monetizing my craft but I presume I will always be willing to make someone happy by sharing a photo they were not expecting.

So my twist on Street Photography is simply giving back.  We take photos, and we can just as easily give back.  If I'm on a street, a sidewalk, a plaza, a beach, at a nature center or any other public space and I'm shooting for pleasure rather than "on assignment" and I take a photo of a street musician, a vendor, a restaurant worker, a couple, a kid holding a bird, or brave women  paddleboarding, I won't mind sending them a copy of the image.  

Thanks for listening!