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street photography tips, london street photography, london photography

Self-imposed constraints: the key to creativity

Most people will argue that gears don’t make you a good or bad photographer. And they are right. But gears – your choice of lens, of camera body, of filters if any – determine what you can do, and define limits within which to operate your art. And in that sense, it is bound to make you a better photographer in the long run if you operate long enough within those given constraints. Besides gear itself, an artist can impose on himself many constraints, whether knowingly or not. Take for instance landscape photographers. Their constraint is time-related: they will wait until the light is just at this perfect point before taking a picture, maybe a few more, and then go home. A portrait photographer will be constrained by natural light, which he will try to complement with artificial light as able. Still, evolving within the constraints that we give ourselves shape us as an artist. It stretches us to achieve more with what we have and can do. Because the room of possibilities is reduced, our attention is way more focused that it would be otherwise. And this, in essence, is liberating.

I have been using my Canon 60D with a 17-55 zoom lens with f2.8 in continuity. This camera and this lens totally shaped my photography of the past year – literally defined what others call my style (even if I am unsure what this means!). Let me explain: zooms are versatile, but in street photography, only one variable can be adjusted before the target goes away. Mine was the focal distance. Everything else was set. Aperture priority at f2.8, as I felt that smaller apertures were not fast enough. And, the ability to rely on autofocus (or to miss my shots because of auto-focus).

I thus spent my entire year dealing with autofocus, maneuvering my frames between 17mm and 55mm alternatively, and getting something out of it. I operated within those constraints, knowing what shots would work, what would not. Knowing perfectly what I’d get at 17 vs. 55 in my frame (all other focal distances were never used for that matter). Learning to point the focus where needed before recomposing etc. Why it was liberating: I knew perfectly well what I’d get and I did not need to worry about anything else. My resulting shots were soft, with shallow depth of field at 55m, and pretty large depth of field at 17mm. Because my subjects could see me coming from far away, I was also constrained by the types of scene that I could take – and the distance at which I could assumedly go without having their expression change. I thus alternated between long-range shots of solitary figures vs. stolen street portraits of one individual (right in his face type of shots).

When I started to use the Leica M with a 35mm lens, the constraints stayed, but they changed in nature. And thus has my photography. It is still very early to describe that change, and how it evolve in the past months or so that I have been using this wonderful combo. But that change is clear, evident. I can experience it throughout the way – from the way I see the world, to the last post-processing touch that I would apply on an image. It is transforming me, slowly, but effectively. It is opening doors that I had never seen before. It is also frightening, because I don’t have a clear sense of the direction that it is taking. I know what I am leaving behind, but not where I am headed at.

I am now forced to see within a specific, fixed frame – 35mm – whether or not it is appropriate to what I see. This is forcing me to change the way I see, to make it appropriate to the frame. I thus need to reverse the thinking: and the way I feel my environment. The window is blocked, I cannot extend it neither can I reduce it. My creativity needs to adjust to this new state of things. As a result, I feel that my compositions are getting a little sloppier, less rigorous, more chaotic. My subjects are well centered, but the borders are non-defined – continuing to extend to parts of people, parts of faces. And it seems that I am not ready to crop them out, since in a way, they belong to the frame just as much as my subjects.

While in hyperfocus mode (anywhere from f6 to f9), which is the most liberating of all modes as a street photographer, the constraint of subjects and scenes become very real. On the one hand, nothing is ever out of focus, which is a novelty to me (used to have f2.8 as my go-to aperture). On the other hand, it requires me to understand everything happening in the frame. The simplicity that I used to achieve with f2.8 is definitely over – I capture a world of complex interactions, foreground and background exploding of details, opposing and yet, continuing one another. There is no clear separation anymore. This state of affairs forces me to consider my background much more carefully for street portraits, and generally, mid-range shots. In other terms, I now need to consider layers – layers of people and things. When everything is in focus, you need to see in 3D, not in 2D. And this is a big change for me.

If constrained by the need for speed, such as at night, manual focusing requires me to anticipate much more than what I used to do. It forces me to go upfront of people, almost chasing them to get at the right distance. My brain is wired on measuring: measuring the distance between me and the subject. Measuring the steps that it’d take to get closer, the risk of being seen – and thus changing the expression, the risk of missing the moment forever. It becomes an evergoing assessment of risks and possibilities. Yet the results can be stunning. The different mechanisms behind manual and autofocus lenses dramatically alter the experience, each having their sets of requirements to follow. It is like taming a new animal – it is all new, difficult, foreign, yet full of possibilities.

Yes, constraints shape our artistic vision. They shape who we are, as an artist, as a photographer. But the key to success is to persevere within a given set of constraints - not to give up too early, but to let the time for the mind and the body to understand those limits, and, later on, to overcome them with greater creativity.

The world of Leica: my first impressions

Leica, and rangefinders in general, are so different from what I’ve experienced so far. It really is a world of its own, a million miles away from traditional DSLR photography. Clearly, each serves a different function, and I can say for certain that some people will totally dislike it. Well, I loved it.

It’s been four days since I purchased the Leica M, and I had the opportunity to shoot pretty much every day since then. I’m barely discovering its possibilities, so far, but I have seen enough of it to share a couple of thoughts with you J

The experience is what makes all the difference. Yes, it is really awesome to shoot street photography with a Leica, and for very simple reasons. First, it is so light compared to a DSLR. Heavy enough to be stable in my hands, but light enough to carry around everywhere. I wanted a camera that I would not hesitate to bring with me… And I found it. Secondly, it makes you look invisible and / or not very threatening. People look at you with curiosity, and smile at you. Why, in Chicago my friends, where everybody can see you coming from everywhere, this makes a world of difference! I can all of a sudden get so close to people that this is fantastic. Thirdly, the viewfinder that never blacks out is a pretty awesome part of the experience. I am not a “decisive moment” kind of photographer – I generally frame and isolate one subject carefully, and often don’t get it wrong (if autofocus doesn’t screw up that is). But now, I can also, if I want to, extend my photographic subjects to particular expressions, configurations etc. And I feel part of everything J Which is a very nice feeling indeed!

Pictures are beautiful, lens is so so very sharp. Really. I was so impressed with the raw files generated by the camera – so sharp, and the colors are incredible. To be fair, I can’t compare with my Canon lens since I have used it at f 2.8, which is the largest aperture. I didn’t try f6 or 7, which would have, no doubt, resulted in greater sharpness. However, those raw files are still spectacular, and at very large apertures as well. The color files have that unique look, nearly vintage, that really makes me want to do more colors J

Manual focus is hard, but rewarding – when light is good. I realize that the world is made of endless possibilities that I had never seen before. Of course, I screwed many shots – particularly when I wanted to change focus distances in an instant. But I am getting better, and zone focusing is a pretty unique way of doing street photography J I can see some limitations of course. I was not that impressed with Leica in low light conditions. I think that night street photography will be a challenge, as I can’t yet estimate distance very well. Choosing f2 is out of question, the margin of error is inexistent and my subjects will be way too often out of focus. The ISO capabilities, as you probably know, are very limited compared to DSLR, so do not count on it either. Another limitation is the semi-automatic mode. Leica does make pretty strange decisions as far as ISO and speed are concerned. It is especially difficult in an environment where there is a combination of dark and light zones (such as under the tracks of the L train in Chicago). Most often than not, the exposure was totally off, and the speed was too low. You can of course set parameters for Leica to operate: max ISO, max exposure time. We will see if that makes it better, but overall, I do think that Leica is manual in essence. Which for street photography can be a little hard at times.

In conclusion, Leica forces me to change the way I do photography. I usually use a very large aperture in autofocus, with a zoom. I now have to do with 35mm and apertures that do not allow me to isolate that well my subjects. On the other hand, I am discovering the joy of pre-focusing, where the camera never hesitates – where the focus is just as good as you’ve set it. Is there still a place in my heart for my beloved Canon 60D? Yes, of course. I can’t get those awesome bokeh shots on the street with Leica, not without autofocus for now. And I can’t quite do street photography at night either, as far as I have seen (but that may change when I become better J). But the world of rangefinders make everything a lot more worthwhile in a way. It comes back to the essential, and it lets you in, right into the scene, as if you had never left it.

I wanted to go full frame. Leica was the obvious choice for me. And that was a wise, wise decision that I don’t regret at all.

Mindfulness: welcoming the unexpected

While telling another street photographer that, no, I had not been waiting 45 minutes to get that shot, he said to me: “Well, you must be damn lucky then.” I am not, I have to confess. I take thousands of pictures, I process maybe 5% of them. I fail often, I rarely succeed. I try again, I never stop trying.

But by now I have learned one important thing: success will come if you let things happen, not when you try to realize an idea that has already formed in your mind. Because, let’s be honest: if you know what you want, why can’t you stage it? What would be the fun of waiting hours – maybe days – before getting that perfect shot that you’ve imagined in detail? If you know what you want, if you go out with specific expectations, you’re putting yourself in a situation where you are bound to be disappointed. Then you’ll claim to the world that you are not lucky, when in fact, you’ve only made yourself unlucky by desiring something specific.

I am not beaten up if nothing happens in front of a nice background. I just move along, and I let the world surprise me somewhere else. I look everywhere, I am curious about many things. I am not particularly lucky – but I believe in miracles. The beauty of street photography, and candid photography, is our inability to predict how things might turn out. It is the unexpected, the unpredictable that creates a drug for many of us. But in order to make it work, you need to forget yourself, and get rid of your secret desires. You need to focus on the present, and the present only.

This is what we call mindfulness – the art of embracing the present as if no past, and no future, could get any hold on you, even for a moment only. So give it a try: let go of any pre-conceived idea of images and scenes. Don’t think, just shoot. Embrace the world as it shown to you, not as you would like it to be. And more often than not, you’ll be surprised to see how easy it is to be lucky.

The transformative power of light in photography

Light – and the absence of light – is inherent in all photography. But light is not neutral – it shapes your image, it emphasizes your story, and can ultimately transform the reality to create new worlds as mysterious and powerful as those found in our dreams. Knowing when and how to use light is key to creating greater impact with your photography.

If we look at the impact of light as a continuum, light can transform your image in 4 different ways:

1. Separation. At the very basic level, light acts as a separator between your subject and the background. Back to the core of our perceptions, the human mind can only distinguish elements in visual art if, and only if, they have different colors or shades of a similar color. In B&W photography, when colors are de facto absent from your composition, the only way to define your subject vs. the background is to create tonal differentiation. In other words, you need to capture elements with different values of light if you want them to be distinct from one another.

2. Emphasis. A more advanced use of light in your composition can allow you to emphasize your main subject. In other words, light can help create better stories if used smartly and appropriately. Think about how light, and its opposite the shadow, can contribute to your composition: leading lines, blockers, frames, negative space. All those elements will support your story by leading the eyes to what really matters – and get rid of what doesn’t.

3. Substance. Furthermore, light can create elements of its own – secondary actors that will help you tell a more subtle and powerful story: silhouettes, shadows, reflections. Those elements often convey more mystery and depth to your stories, helping to emphasize underlying emotions in your images. Those elements will create substance if they reinforce your existing story – which means, if they do not contradict the story in place.

4. Tension. The most powerful impact of light that can be found in photography is to create meaning. When new elements created by light – or absence of light – detract and contradict the story in place, you are in fact creating new meaning. This is probably the most interesting and inspiring use of light for street photographers. New meaning will be created if, at the end of the day, elements with contradictory meaning come together to form a greater whole. This is the power of opposites – stirring emotions in multiple directions to create, ultimately, meaningful tension.

Let’s now study some examples of the transformative power of light.

1. Separation: Using light to dissociate elements in your photographs

The primary subjects in the photo below would be almost indistinguishable from the background if the sun was not highlighting their faces. Here, light creates that required differentiation between tones that is at the basis of our perceptions. Because the light in the background is subdued, the point of highest contrast (meaning, the point where there is the highest difference between light and dark) also falls on the subjects. The eye will naturally focus on the point of highest contrast, ensuring that my subjects are prominent in my composition.

Tonal differentiation also works the other way, with a darker subject positioned in a lighter background, as in the photograph below. In both cases, the distinction between figures and ground is clear and indisputable, which is the basic essence of traditional composition.

2. Emphasis: Using light to direct the eyes to what matters

In the photograph below, absence of light is used a frame and negative space. The resulting effect is to strongly emphasize the subjects, as if spots had been cast on them. Negative space will convey a feeling of mystery and gloom if it has a low value (meaning, if it uses dark, not light). On the other hand, light negative spaces will convey more positive feelings to your image and primary character. Here, the subjects appear a little lost in the surrounding darkness of Chicago’s alleys.

Light can also act a blocker, like that shiny ray of light on the steel of the bridge in the picture below. The line created separates the photograph into two distinct areas: the dark part of the left, where our eyes do not want to stay or linger too long, and the brighter part on the right where the subject stands. As a result, more emphasis is given to the subject, as the eyes are forced to shift on the right and rest on the illuminated face of the woman.

3. Substance: using light to create depth in your stories

The sun has this wonderful aptitude to create new elements in photographs. Reflections are one of those elements that only light can create, and, if used properly, will add significant substance to your story. In the photograph below, the little girl looking beyond the window is facing her own reflection. Elements respond to one another – as if her reflection was an extension of herself, and extension of hey journey into her mind.

Shadows – that other artifact created by light – have a strong symbolic value. They tend to show that we are dual in our humanity, that there are two of us – the dark and the light, the reality and the dream. In the picture below, the shadow of that little girl is enhancing the story, not creating conflict as we could suppose so. That little girl alone imitates the world of adults as she proudly wears her feminine hat, yet behaves like a child in her attitude and posture. Her shadow and negative space around only enhance that story by offering a representation of that world of hers, of that imaginary place where she stands – bridging the seemingly separate worlds of childhood and adulthood.

4. Tension: Using light to transform the reality

Tension is born out of the confrontation of opposites. Light and dark are in constant opposition with one another, and are associated with opposite feelings as well, as we already discussed in this article. In the photograph below, elements created by light do not act as an extension of the characters, but appear in total contradiction. The beautiful woman rests in the dark, while the strange-looking woman with naked legs is in the light. This inherent contradiction creates a feeling of mystery: the beautiful woman is not who she seems to be. From that dark corner, she seems to hide a secret that she will never share.

Light can also transform and personify ordinary objects. In the photograph below, light is not only acting as negative space. In fact, it brings together two key elements in the story: on one side, the group of people happily walking. On the other side, hidden in the dark, the shadow of a car coming at them. There is a strange and powerful contradiction between those two elements, and the car can easily be perceived as another character of its own – with motives of its own. As a result, the image conveys a threatening feeling, a sense of cinematographic drama that gives a totally new meaning to the image.

Hopefully, you will have enjoyed this travel into light in photography. The transformative power of light has no limit - it is a world of possibilities that I encourage you to explore. Now.

Objectivity vs. subjectivity: the science of camera angles

Cinema, as an art, has long been paying attention to camera angles. And indeed, the choice of camera angle will have a deep impact on how the viewer will eventually experience the scene and the story. Will they observe at a distance or will they feel part of the action? Will they identify themselves with the subject or will they react to this confrontation?

There are I believe four major types of effects generated by camera angles:

Omniscience: When the camera angle allows for a very objective and neutral point of view, the viewer can distance himself from the scene and become an impartial observer able to “see it all”. Generally speaking, most medium to long-range shots will provide that effect.
Awareness: Some shots establish a direct connection between viewer and subject – the viewer is aware of the subject as a person, with qualities and personality of their own, which can sometimes lead to a psychological confrontation.
Experience: When the line between objectivity and subjectivity is blurred, viewers can sometime experience an astonishing contradiction: they feel as if they are “here” within the scene, yet unnoticed by the subjects – they experience the scene as an invisible observer, in a very voyeuristic manner.
Identification: Finally, certain shots – especially close ups – will yield to a process of identification. The viewer projects its own feelings and emotions on the subject, creating a very personal story based on their own personality and state of mind.

The first two effects: omniscience and awareness are objective point of views, meaning that there is a clear separation between the viewer and the subject, each standing in their own sphere of existence. The last two effects: Experience and Identification are subjective point of views, where the viewer is forced into the scene, eventually associating himself with the story.

John Suler, in his book Image and Psyche, provides an outstanding description of various camera angles and their psychological impact – so I will not describe each type of camera angles at length as you can read more by yourself. Instead, I will focus my analysis on these four major effects, and will provide a few practical examples of camera angles that can be used to create those effects.

There are several types of camera angles to consider moving forward, as explained by John Suler:

Vertical orientation: eye-level, low-level, high-level
Horizontal orientation: front, side, rear, slight deviation on the left or right (POV shots)
Straight vs. tilted orientation
Field of view: long-range, medium range, close range

Effect 1: Omniscience

Behind the idea of omniscience lies the principle of showing the big picture. The viewer is given the opportunity to see the scene in its entirety. Long-range and medium-range shots are best fitted to create that effect. Shots that are at eye level (not higher, not lower) will provide the most objective point of view, while lower / higher shots will create interesting subtleties in the way viewers perceive the overall scene. The key to omniscience is to integrate all meaningful elements into one shot: the subject of course, but also all the surrounding context that will extend the story from that of a man alone, to a man within its environment.  In the above image, viewers are shown the entire winter scene, emphasizing the loneliness of the subject. Without the context of the bridge and fog, that feeling of loneliness would be less strong. It is by distancing oneself from the details that we can see the big picture. The lonely figure exists because of the lonely city – both elements resonate and respond to one another to create a more cohesive story.

Straight vs. tilted orientation

Tilted angles – long to medium shots – will largely influence how viewers understand the context around a shot. They can still perceive the overall big picture story, but their perceptions and understandings are altered by the different orientation of the image. Tilted images have this impact on people: they feel disoriented, and as such the context may appear gloomier than it really is. In the above image, a typical Chicago alley will appear scary to viewers. Due to the large angle of view, they can still understand the big picture: a man walking away in a deserted alley. However, the tilt contributes to creating a strange atmosphere, as if something was about to happen to that man. We are close here to the “experience” effect which would have been achieved if the man had been closer to us. As it is, the shot leaves a vague feeling of uneasiness to the viewer, with no clear understanding of why.

Effect 2: Awareness

When I started studying camera angles, I found it difficult to really pin point that awareness effect. I realized that many angles could generate this result, with a lots of interesting variations. However, one element was key to amplify this effect: eye contact. Looking into the eye of someone establishes an instance connection between two people – and this is exactly the same with an image. When someone is looking directly at you, you can sense this person’s independent existence. Once that initial relationship is established, viewers will attribute characteristics to this person based on this person’s expression and attitude – and obviously based on their personal life experiences.

This is where camera angles comes into play: shots creating awareness can be of various focal lengths, as long as the eyes appear to be directed at the camera, and as long as the subject has enough presence to draw most attention. The closer you get from the subject, the stronger the feeling of awareness of this other person will be. Additionally, you can manipulate feelings for that person through changing the vertical orientation of your camera.

At eye-level, you will get a straightforward relationship where viewers and subjects are on the same plane. When taking this type of shots, you establish a simple, direct connection between two human beings. This is a one-on-one relationship, where the viewer is presented with another human being that generates curiosity and interest. The eye connection is very strong and establishes an invisible line that is almost impossible to ignore – as if that person in the image was seeing you as well, was aware of you, just as you are aware of them.

Above eye-level angles will make the subject appears smaller and weaker – as if de-emphasized by the camera. Below eye-level, as it is the case in the picture above, subjects will appear bigger than life, stronger, more imposing – their importance will be emphasized. The characteristics that viewers will attribute to the subjects will depend heavily on the angle you choose – so be aware that camera angles will strongly influence the story being told, no matter what.

Effect 3: Experience

In cinema, many scenes are meant to make the viewer feel at the center of the action. As the camera follows the actors, we are often given the impression that we are moving along with the camera… following their every step. When two characters discuss together, we feel in the middle of their conversation – yet the characters never actually look directly at the camera. While this can lead all the way to identification, most of these tactics will, at least, enable viewers to experience a scene from the inside, not from the outside. And this is where the magic happens in cinema: from being a mere observer, we become an invisible actor: we are forced into the story whether we like or not.

Photographers have a lot to learn from film directors in that matter. But fortunately, we have all the tools at our disposal to make it work. In the above shot, the viewer starts to experience the scene more subjectively. While still being an observer, the viewer is close enough from the main subjects to share their complicity – the side / rear position of the camera is very useful under such circumstances. The subjects do not see us, but we see them, and there’s a clear feeling that we could be discovered at any time, should they decide to look in our direction…

When getting closer to people, we can best create the experience effect by ensuring that the subject is not looking at the camera. For this to happen, choose a side angle or a POV angle (like in above shot). The closer you get from people, the more “voyeuristic” the experience will be, and the more strongly your viewers will experience the scene from the inside – as if they were there, invisible actors of a story that they do not control.

A wide low angle can provide marvelous results as well when it comes to experiencing a scene. Not only does the viewer feels at the center of the action, but the wide angle provides much opportunity to experience this action differently – with some added roughness, as well as more theatrical context – a tactic used by many well-known street photographers in fact.

Effect 4: Identification

This last effect is without a doubt the harder to achieve – and this stems from the unpredictability of your viewers’ reactions. While everyone projects feelings and desires into images, identification itself can only happen under specific psychological conditions.

Let’s first discuss what I mean by identification. Identification can come from identifying oneself with the subject or the story – this is the simplest aspect of this effect. In the picture above, for example, I see myself in this little girl – I understand and relate to her attitude and expression, and she reminds me of myself… in ways that I will not elaborate upon here!

However, there is another factor determining possible identification with a subject or a story. Contrary to what you may think, people identify with a picture when they see something of themselves in the picture, but not necessarily themselves. For example, in the image below, you can identify with the scene because it reminds you of your daughter or grand-daughter. This image resonates with you because of this association – not because you are being reminded of yourself.

How can we achieve or at least facilitate the identification process? From my experience, and my experience only, medium range and close ups are more indicated in achieving that result. More objective angle (e.g., at eye-level) will also probably work better as they will establish a straightforward connection between subject and viewer.

Other than that, there are no clear rules or patterns suggesting one way or another. In fact, identification can occur despite your best efforts: it can be someone looking straight at you that touch something deep in your soul. It can be the lovely neckline of a beautiful woman in a close up shot. It can be the lonely expression of a young person walking alongside a building. It can come from your deepest fear, or your most secret desire. It can take many forms and shapes – and there’s no way to predict when it will occur.

Truth being told, not everything can and should be explained by rules. In photography as well, there is a place for miracles.