I’d seen this young women in the Navigli area of Milan, she was very striking looking, but I never saw her smile, not the once.
Well OK, maybe the once.
I’d tried to photograph her in a café a few days earlier, but she realized what I was doing, picked up her bag and stormed off. Then she came into a bar where I was drinking. I thought I won’t get another chance like this, but I had my back to her and I couldn’t risk turning round
I held the camera up back to front and fired blind, checked the framing and fired again. I was expecting an out of focus badly composed image. This is what I got.
The sax player was a gift.
What makes her so melancholic? She has a beautiful bone structure, and the confidence to sit at a bar without a drink unconcerned by what anyone thinks, including the barman. She looks like she wouldn’t suffer fools gladly, her aloneness is fortress strong.
Some Barlife images now on show at The Gallery Norfolk 60 St Giles, Norwich and also available from the Bircham Gallery Holt
It’s this interaction of eye contact, and body language that fascinates me. In bars we are all watching each other, you wonder what the story is, what’s the narrative? You look for the clues. You are inches away from finding out, this isn’t the street, it’s a bar, talking to strangers is acceptable.
In the ‘A girl in Bruges’, there’s a man in her life, you can just see the edge of him on the left hand side. He hasn’t got her undivided attention has he? My wife said perhaps he’s a photographer – cruel.
But what is going through her mind? And look at those long elegant fingers. The girl behind her getting ready to leave also echoes the expressive nature of the hands. Maybe these are the hands of a musician – or a dancer? People I’ve shown this photograph to have different ideas about her relationship to the man opposite and her possible occupation. What is certain is, everyone loves to speculate, to have an opinion, this is what we spend our life doing; wondering about the people around us.
We were in the back streets of Santander, the rain had been coming down in a deluge, the night was dark and hot. The old Spaniard stared out into the street watching those who dared the rain. He hadn’t been in the best of moods, he’d lost some money in another bar, but now he was calm watching the night, lost in thought. He looked like a fighter; a fast car went down the street, crashing water on to the pavement, his gesture to the insult was swift and uncompromising. I wanted to capture the interior of the bar and the street scene outside, it meant doing a ‘stitched’ shot. I thought I could do this without the Spaniard noticing.
The times I’ve asked Italian girls in bars if it’s OK to photograph them, and could they just ignore me and carry on as if I wasn’t there. ‘That’s perfectly OK’ is often the reply and then they proceed to do exactly as I asked; I tell you it’s depressing beyond measure.
In England if you ask people to ignore you and they agree, their body language tells you otherwise. You know they are faking it, pretending that you are not there, while all the time wondering if they are looking good in the shot, or thinking what the hell is this guy up?
Our sense of other people is primitive, a vital defense mechanism. We need to know if what we see is real or deceptive, a friend or a foe? We are clever at recognizing what is true and what is false, we have to be our survival depends upon it. False emotions show in photographs, we know when people are faking things, which is why photographers prefer the candid photograph, the raw unguarded moment. It’s a constant problem, do you ask permission before you take a photograph and risk losing the moment, the truth, or do you steal?
Nothing to worry about here with these two as you can see, they are perfectly natural, as far as they are concerned, I’m gone, I don’t exist.
I liked the way the light entered this dark bar in Amsterdam, it reminded me of bars in Hull. There was an older man in a dark suit in the corner who looked alone and morose, but he lit up once a very attractive lady of a certain age appeared; or rather she lit up; the smoke is all hers.
She transformed the atmosphere in a few seconds, exhaling great clouds of smoke from an enormous cigar in the direction of the ceiling.
What bothered me was the bar counter which cut right across them. I tried moving positions and standing up, but that only drew attention to my presence. I thought a very atmospheric photograph was ruined because I couldn’t get a clear view of the couple.
The thing is, the bar counter bothered me, but it bothered no one else. The lighting and the atmosphere seemed to captivate people, even those who don’t like to smoke.
The Brown Bars in Amsterdam are famous, they don’t seem to ruin their bars and cafés the way we do with constant refurbishment, doing theme decor or installing ‘fake old’. They treat their bars more like old friends, you can visit them after a long absence and pick up where you left off, nothing much has changed. I visited one bar where on the top shelf at a slight angle and quite dusty there was a photograph of Winston Churchill, I reckon it was probably put there just as the war finished and no one saw any reason to move it.
I noticed some bars had their tables covered in carpets, a strange practice. I thought maybe they were just getting their customers ready for the night ahead – you know, just bringing the floor a little closer to them so it wouldn’t be such a shock later. There’s a famous remark made by a drinker in one of the American Bars, he told the bartender they really should get their carpets cleaned – they tasted awful.
You certainly don’t get bars like this anymore
Some Barlife images now on show at The Gallery Norfolk 60 St Giles, Norwich and also available from the Bircham Gallery Holt
Do you really know your legal rights in taking and publishing photographs captured in public places? I suspect like me you have a hazy knowledge of what you can and can’t get away with.
Be warned, this is not legal advice in any shape or form, it’s my point of view, but I’m rather hoping that by sharing it, other photographers and experts will come forward and help us find a way through this legal minefield.
Let’s set off on comparatively safe ground.
You have a right to take photographs in public places of anything or anyone and publish them, and make money out of them. This was my understanding when I was at Art College a long time ago. The one proviso was your photographs couldn’t be used for advertising purposes without a model release form. The idea seemed to be that an individual couldn’t be seen to be endorsing a product he perhaps wouldn’t want to, and obviously he couldn’t be used in a libelous or derogatory way, without at least giving his written permission. Which I think everyone would agree was fair enough.
But a lot has changed since I had that advice. I remember being given a camera at college and told to go out into the back streets of Hull and photograph the kids playing because they made good candid photographs and natural portraits. You wouldn’t do that these days – although interestingly can anyone tell me if there is a law in force that says you are not allowed to photograph kids playing in the street – I suspect there isn’t.
So I can photograph anyone in a public place, but what constitutes a public place. Obviously our streets and parks, but what about cafés and bars – the places where I do my photography? I rather think my photographic lecturer would say a public place is any place you could expect to be seen by the public. So bars, cafés and restaurants yes, but your bedroom or the loo – definitely not. The famous shot of Nigella Lawson in the restaurant is I imagine something neither she nor her husband wanted to see made public, but if you’re in a public place; watch out. In fact worryingly what you or I think of as a public place may not be what everyone else thinks.
Photographer Arne Svenson recently won a Court ruling in the United States which established his right to photograph people in their apartments without their knowledge or consent (he photographed them from his apartment) and publish and sell the images in galleries. He avoided showing the individual’s face, but that was him being a ‘gentleman’.
I know that’s America and this is England, but the defence of ‘in the name of Art’ is a powerful one across most cultures. So make sure you aren’t lounging on the balcony, or walking through the living room naked in front of big plate glass windows, if you don’t want your image used by an art snapping photographer, or the paparazzi.
I don’t think Arne plans to repeat the exercise, I suspect that after the hoo-ha even he thought that perhaps he had gone too far, although his case did highlight the practice of other photographers and how far they were prepared to push the limits.
And what about what appears to be public spaces but are not, like our shopping malls, they are privately owned and have security guards. A professional photographer I know was intimidated enough by security guards to delete the photographs he had taken in a shopping mall. I was shocked and surprise, my friend is no pushover, he’s a big no nonsense Dutchman, an experienced photographer with a mind of his own. I like to think I wouldn’t delete an image for anyone, but that’s being brave here on the page.
The public’s attitude to being photographed has also changed.
The paparazzi and the Internet have seen to that. The public are cute to the fact that photographs are valuable to someone, they are open to exploitation and manipulation for commercial ends, and the public is now aware of their ‘rights’ – or at least they think they are.
I’ve been told to delete a photograph I’d taken of someone in the street, when I said I wouldn’t I was threatened with the police. If the cops turned up I’d like to think they would back me up, but there’s been a lot of recent history where they seemed unsure of how the law worked. Amateur Photographer Magazine even went so far as to issue a natty little lens cleaning cloth with a very polite message on it addressed to police and security guards explaining the rights of photographers to take photographs in public places.
If you are lucky enough to get your photograph without any bother and want it published on-line or sell it in a gallery you are still open to the subject of the photograph demanding withdrawal of the image because they think it’s an invasion of their privacy or they want a percentage of the profits.
Amongst other pursuits I’m a fine art photographer, I sell my images in galleries, I’ve been told that in the case of what is termed a ‘fine art’ image any such claims against me ‘would be unlikely to get very far, but it could be a hassle to deal with’.
And therein lies I think the crux of the matter. The whole area seems to me to be a nightmare of legality, some of which probably has yet to be tested in the courts.
What you can and can’t get away with will largely depend on how you handle yourself in any given situation, and which country you are in. France is not friendly to Street Photographers, the law there is different, you can face a criminal action in the courts. Taking the photograph in the name of Art is a defence, but not one that people are as confident in as they used to be.
I recently took a photograph late at night of a man and a couple of women in a street in Italy. The man took exception to this, said I wasn’t allowed to take a photograph of him without his permission and demanded that I delete it.
Fortified by half a litre of wine and a good I meal I stood my ground, became adamant that I had every right to take a photograph in a public place and that he didn’t understand the law. Neither did I as it happened, we were in Italy after all; perhaps they do things differently there.
It wasn’t my finest hour.
When we take photographs of people without their permission we take something from them, it’s not an unnatural emotion for them to feel robbed or violated in some way. Taking a photograph is a selfish act perpetrated by the photographer, an invasion of somebodies privacy, no matter what the law may say in defending our ‘right’ to take photographs of people in public places.
It’s simply bad manners.
Stare at somebody and you’ll likely get the sharp rebuke ‘What are you staring at?’ Embarrassed we quickly avert our eyes, we are in the wrong, it’s socially unacceptable, our position indefensible, a shrug of shoulders against us – unless of course you are a photographer.
That’s what the camera does, it stares at you and then when its results are processed it invites the public along to continue staring at you for as long as they want.
Being aware of how people feel is something we try to blot out, are we going to stop taking photographs because we may upset people?
The answer you won’t be surprised to hear is ‘no’.
You can of course develop strategies to cope with uncomfortable situations; use cable releases, hide your camera in a bag, avoid all eye contact.
I read of some advice given by Don McCullin on street photography.
He said if you were taking a photograph of someone and you’d been spotted and it looked like you were going to get into difficulties, take your photograph anyway, and as you lower your camera concentrate on the individual’s right shoulder then make your way purposefully towards it – and straight on past it. Great advice – unless of course the individual is leaning against a brick wall.
It all reeks a bit of subterfuge, and underhandedness, but it doesn’t need to be that way. Martin Parr is big on going forward to engage with his subject and he’s got some terrific results by being upfront in his intentions, although I rather think he engages with his subjects when he realizes he has to. We all know the old predicament, let people know you are there and you’ve lost the spontaneity of the moment.
I find it good practice to carry a business card with me, so that if I get spotted I go forward immediately with a big smile and the card and explain myself. It’s worked every time so far – well OK, apart from that chap in Italy, but that was my fault. People generally appreciate the explanation, and mostly are open to what you are trying to do – even flattered that you considered them interesting enough to photograph.
We are all engaged in this act of street mugging, complicit in the arrangement, the photographer, and the viewer of the photograph.
I remember seeing a student with a photograph of the Falling Man from 9/11; an elegant pose, his agony reduced to a screen saver on a student computer.
We consider we have the right to stare at whatever we want, and who knows maybe we do, but we should at least be honest and acknowledge we are engaged in an act of selfish will, vainly hoping perhaps, that this particular photograph will make us famous, give us the recognition we deserve.
It’s an uncomfortable business and it deserves to remain so.
Since the law is unclear, and our motives may be suspect, the least we can do is be human, be polite.
If it’s any help these are some words I find useful.
Edward Steichen was talking about that old chestnut – is photography Art? His words in reply are bigger than any part of that tired debate. He said: “Today I don’t give a hoot in hell about that. The mission of photography is to explain man to man and each man to himself.”
There will be an exhibition of some of the photographs from this article at HIP, from Nov 7 to end of December.
‘BARLIFE’ a study of bars, cafés and pool halls, wherever people and alcohol mix
The Drum Horse apparently has the rank of Major when in full regalia and must be saluted by passing soldiers. He looks magnificent and looks every inch his commission. During the day children had fed the horses, who where stabled in tents, carrots given to them for the purpose by friendly soldiers.
Later in the day the Cavalry did their display of horsemanship, one set piece is ‘pull down horse’. The rider still saddled pulls the horse down to hide from the enemy. The commentator said ‘We must never forget a horse is a weapon of war, and it’s better for a horse to take a bullet than a man’.
There was an audible sound of anguish from the crowds who had previously had such a pleasant time petting the horses with their children.
A sudden clash of realities on a bright sunny day with all the regalia.
I wanted to use Pritouritze Planinata singing Chant from the Thracian Plain (check it out) as the soundtrack, since it’s an ancient sound that seems to fit this age old form of combat. If anyone can suggest a royalty free sound, please let me know.
We had an inspirational teacher of photography at Hull College of Art, I’m still trying to track him down – Clee Rimmer – just to say thanks.
I’ve stared to dust off my old college negatives, they’ve improved with age.
I remember going out to do Street Photography in Hull, trying to be Don McCullin or Cartier Bresson, and coming back to the college to develop the negs only to be massively disappointed. They were ordinary, pedestrian, boring.
I talked to a pal from the same course and he said he felt exactly the same way – he almost binned his.
When you look at old prints it’s a shock to see just how much has gone and what has changed. They have a fascination and intrigue – intrigue if only because you wonder ‘how did those people’s lives spin out?’
What’s the advice here, go out and photograph everything in the street, because no matter how mundane, predictable or ordinary it is, one day it will have value. You could try that I suppose, it does mean you hope to be still with us at the end of a few decades.