The Photographer’s Relationship to the Subject
Who are we when no one is watching?
Might that be our most authentic self?
If so, there is certainly an artist desire to capture that authenticity, and a human desire to know what that might look like in another in the hopes of relating or differing for comfort, for interest.
I think some essence of this is captured in street photography. Perhaps the other times we see it portrayed is in self-portraits or films. Arguably, films land a little further away from the authenticity of the person because the actor knows they are watched, and the character does not.
Street photography exudes a similar idea to characters alone in films, whereby the subject knows people can see them, maybe they know you’re about to take their photo, but they aren’t taken away from the motion of their day; the photographer hasn’t broken through the social blockade of stranger for the subject to present anything other than themselves in that motion.
I think what is most interesting about this kind of observer street photography is the fact that a person is captured before they get the chance coat themselves in the i-am-about-to-be-frozen-in-time-i-am-going-to-do-THIS-to-my-face-and-body-to-optimise-people’s-perception-of-me persona. Sometimes I think that posing or knowing takes away some degree of authenticity and arguably truth.
Bu then I have the question: can you capture anything more about a person if you can only see and only know their surface, their physical self?
Immediately, obliviously I would answer yes and then no.
Connecting with the subject before you take their picture is what I always do because I like to get the subject’s consent. What I find most interesting is when the subject is a stranger and I walk up to them and introduce myself and they allow me to take their photo they almost always smile. They “smile for the camera”…who told them to do that? I certainly did not.
Granted a smile is a beautiful, valid expression, but what good is it if this subject isn’t feeling joyful or wouldn’t be moved to smile without the camera between us.
The only way that beautiful authenticity can be captured when the subject is aware of the camera is trust, time, space, and sometimes privacy. Sometimes a shoot requires the subject to perform and if they’re in public (which they often are because I don’t work out of a studio) there is additional pressure. This is when I feel the subject looking for a form of comfort to lean on. That is my job as the photographer to make them feel safe and confident, to let them know that they can trust me.
Insert another lens to consider this all through: the creative treatment of actuality. I mean that’s what we’re all really doing here isn’t it? Capturing the beauty in the lived mundane. Capturing the beauty that we see all the time in a way that helps other people see it, or even better, making a feeling or connection visible.
Take a family photoshoot for example, maybe people can’t see that you and your family and your love feels warm and yellow and bright, but I can capture you all in white, on a sunny afternoon in yellowy fields of long grass and you can say, “Yes! This is what I thought we looked like, this is what it feels like to know and love these people.” Or maybe someone is more masculine presenting and can’t often see themselves in such a way. I can direct and capture them in a photograph that highlights their features, mood, style, and body language that amplifies who they are and how they feel - I often to this in my self-portraits.
The various approaches to capturing the authenticity of people and telling their story is the magic of photography. Exploring the differences that appear in your work when your relationship to the subject changes is both important and interesting to do, especially for yourself as the artist. You get to find what stories you want to tell from the scene and subject you are capturing…yours or theirs or the inescapable combination of both.
