Okay, that is a bit much. Me telling you how to work a scene as if I am some sort of authority. I am not, but that doesn’t mean I can’t share my feelings about this type of thing. I have, after all, been staring through a stupid little box for much of my life. I like working a scene. Heck, I like working bad scenes, so when I stumble upon something with potential, I feel like Tony Manero staying alive with his paint can. Just don’t touch the hair.
Miami is a photography goldmine.
You just don’t know. I heard a Brit interviewed about what it was like living in America. He said, “Miami has no rules.” It’s true. Bath salts, square grouper, and cocaine cowboys. Cuban coffee, pastel structures, and Bikes up Guns Down, and this is what bring me to this post. Also, this video footage of the group is a bit misleading. My experience was quite different and was also confined to a specific neighborhood. Even as a dork with a camera, I was welcomed.
I was working with Andrew Kaufman on this day. Kaufman lived in South Florida for thirty years and knew Miami well. We had a plan, and areas we wanted to explore, but when we turned the corner to see a hundred dudes on bikes ripping wheelies up and down the streets, well, it was game on for a bit of improvisation.
Anytime I encounter something good, there is a feeling of creative anxiety and a parallel feeling of “Don’t screw this up.”
We parked and began walking toward the main area of activity, stopping to shoot, and to to talk to people. Trying to get a better idea of how welcome and free we were. There was a guy in a “Drunk as Fuck,” t-shirt, and this beautiful African American woman who flashed her tits at me. I’m not sure why but I didn’t complain. The air was filled with two stroke oil and gas, and tire smoke backlit in the afternoon light.
When I approached a corner I felt the ingredients for a good photograph. I felt it. I didn’t see it at first, I actually felt it, which is how things tend to happen for me. I knew something was there and I began to investigate, first seeing simple, clean images and then becoming more aware of the layers working around me. The simple, clean, initial images are important because they help you begin to build your frames, but also help those you are photographing become more comfortable with the idea you are there and that you are that close to them. They know you are there but don’t acknowledge you or deviate from their routine. Simple images illustrate individual layers.
The first two images were profiles, so I moved in front for the third image. More commitment, more proximity. Impossible for them not to know I was there. I find these two women to be truly regal. The hair, the glasses, the clothing. Stellar. Worthy of my best effort because they have put forth theirs. But as I kept shooting, I realized that although these two women were the focal point of my interest, there was more. Context.
I was working with a Leica, so my brain wasn’t in portrait mode as if I had been using my Hasselblad. If I had been using my Blad, I would have asked for tight portraits. 80mm, wide open, TRI-X. Money. The light was getting really solid, so backlit 6×6 portraits would have been simple and beautiful. But I wasn’t working with the Blad. The Leica isn’t really a straight portrait rig. The Leica is about layers, which means I pulled back instead of moving forward.
As I moved to the far side of the street, I turned back and began picking my moments, watching and waiting for the right body language, timing, and foreground action. Click, wind, wait. Some frames were close, but not quite right. Too simple, too busy, too scattered, too much motion. And then slowly the final frame began to emerge. Just the right body language. Light working throughout. A third player on the board.
The woman on the left isn’t looking at me, but I love her stare into the distance and away from the view of the other two players. The body language of the woman in the middle. The heel off the ground under the door. The hand on the door and slats in her shirtsleeve. The convertible top partially open. Hard side light. The man on the right filling my background.
I could crop. That might be the only thing I would change. I would also spot this negative. I left it unspotted because I’m a jerk and was too busy to take the time to fix it. I wanted to show this image, and this scene, because it represents the kind of photograph I make. Reality-based, real, intimate, difficult, documentary-style images that exist in one or two frames total. Ever. No old buildings, barns, or cars, and not waiting at a corner for someone to walk through a beam of light. It’s about understanding the “theatre” if you will. Understanding place, distance, spacing, human behavior, timing, and composition.
The reason why you don’t see more of this work is that it is too risky for social media or YouTube. This work typically takes too long. You might make one or two frames a day, or none at all, and that just doesn’t work for scale. As for what happened with this image. Nothing. Never published, never shown, never sold, never even attempted any of that. I enjoy the experience and the challenge. Don’t need another reason.
Comments 13
Thanks for sharing! If you are game, would be cool to start a series called Working The Scene or Dan On Scene, where you can continue to show progression of images.
Just a thought…hope all is well.
Ouch. No old buildings or cars. What if they were racing in front of an old building, in an old car? 😉
Author
I would have burned my camera.
Niiiice! 🙂 I like how you kept drilling down until your final image. Great story to go with it, too!
Author
Thank you!
Thanks for sharing Dan!
No need to question your authority, as a bonafide (ex)photojournalist, who has actually worked many a scene, for many years, you are eminently qualified – have you seen the majority of what passes for expertise online these days? The earlier photos in the sequence clearly demonstrate the tentativeness inherent in first approaching a scene, whereas the later ones start to show an increasing level of ease and comfort between photographer and subject(s), resulting in more immersive photos, culminating with the strongest image, the last; which was the whole point, in my opinion. A lesson the “one snap and I’m outta here” crowd should take to heart – Capa wasn’t talking about how wide a lens you should use, or how closely you should stick your camera in your subject’s face.
As for the final image? It has a helluva lot going for it: the layering is spot on, the hard side light is perfect, good separation between the people and the buildings in the background, I love the contrast between the main character (yes, for me, she IS the main character) looking towards the camera and the characters staring off to the right, the way the slight tilt spills your eye towards the action just off stage, and yes, the tighter crop does make a stronger image.
All-in-all, a strong image, but… but… the fourth character, in the deep background, almost completely obscured by the convertible top… if only… oh, if only….
Author
Photoshop?
Nah, I don’t want to get rid of him, I want him to be a little bit taller.
Yeah, nice work you came up with, there!
“No old buildings, barns, or cars, and not waiting at a corner for someone to walk through a beam of light. It’s about understanding the “theatre” if you will. Understanding place, distance, spacing, human behavior, timing, and composition.”
There you kill today’s popular photography styles dead, often mine included. Why mine? Because the truly visible extrovert, look at me culture doesn’t really exist here, as you will find in Menorca (please prove me mistaken), and though it’s been over forty years since I lived there, occasional trips back to the UK didn’t make it look any better either, even more depressing than when I left, in fact. Maybe I just didn’t realise that that was the actual subject staring me in the face. But then, I wouldn’t have cared to shoot it, either. Worse, I dislike confrontation and I guess that would have been the only sure thing to come out of it all. Better left to Martin Parr, who must put out a different vibe.
It’s my view that as with music, it takes black people to bring some other cultural things to a pitch where it matters, where things assume an identity that makes them unique. Strikes me that rap music, dislike it as I do, is still best left to African Americans. All that hand gesturing etc. just looks silly with whites. It may or may not actually mean anything with black performers either – how would I know? – but that not knowing, that deficit of knowledge allows it life and validity. Whites just look like they are faking it. Which I guess they are.
The basic problem is this: more than a general enthusiasm for photography alone, one has to find true motivation and I’m kinda afraid that that only comes when you know what you are all about. If you don’t understand yourself, you won’t know your subject(s) and so are going to have a hard time reaching the point where it matters enough to sustain you. Photography is about expression, or it’s about nothing; if you have nothing that matters enough to force you to express it, what are you going to produce? Exactly the things you cited in the short quotation above: copies of copies of other people’s copies. It’s effin’ tough being a committed amateur, as I found out.
Author
It helps if you have something to say. And if you don’t know how you are it can be nearly impossible to figure out what you want to say. I have a friend here in town, a strange guy, someone that most other people warn me about. But he’s not that weird. In fact, he’s incredibly insightful. More than the folks who are doing the warning. He asked me, “Who are you?” “What do you believe?” “How do those beliefs make you feel.”
I know that feeling. The potential for a good photo. The light is nice. The people (I do lots of community association events) are milling around, the kids are doing their kid thing, and that photo sense is tingling. Sometimes I know I just have to wait and things will come together. Sometimes I’ll know I need to get out in front because that kid is going to do something good. Sometimes the kid (it’s usually a kid) sees the camera and they ham it up, which typically isn’t what I want. Sometimes they know the camera is there and just do their thing, or there’s the faintest pause, the faintest acknowledgement that we have a moment and I’m ready for them. I’ll give them a thumbs up when done, and if they come over I’ll show them the photo, and without exception they love it. Sometimes there’s a moment between parent and kid where they’re totally unaware of the camera and I capture that look. You know the one. And yes, sometimes I can’t get to the place I need to be, or someone walks between me and the scene, or the moment isn’t quite what I thought it would be. All part of the game.
I thoroughly enjoyed this article as I try this all the time after learning the concept from Joel Meyerowitz’s work. As you mention, the success rate is very low so this isn’t for the faint of heart.
Author
It’s not great subject matter if shooting and posting a lot is the goal. Takes too much time, too little success.