Making vs. Taking

It was Valentine’s Day morning and I was in the Los Angeles flower district. The sun had yet to rise, but the street was active with flower vendors opening up shop, preparing for the thousands of people who would arrive to purchase bouquets and flower arrangements for that special someone in their lives.

It was a cold morning and the streets were wet from the previous evening’s rain. Fluorescent light spilled out of many of the stores’ large entryways, reflecting off the puddles on the sidewalk. Men with large trolleys rushed past as they moved dozens of bouquets and arrangements up and down the street. A middle-aged couple busily loaded a minivan with flowers that were to be resold elsewhere.

The streetlights were still on, but they produced little usable light. I assessed that I would need to find scenes where people were illuminated by the lights from the storefronts. Having not shot in this location before, I wondered whether my presence would be an issue with the storeowners, but I was completely ignored. As long as I did not interrupt their ability to earn money, I was not a nuisance.

Despite the flurry of activity in my first hour there, I struggled to find my footing. As I made photographs, I lacked confidence that I was seeing as carefully as I wanted to. The challenge of the poor light and the busy backgrounds made it difficult to find an effective composition. I was reacting more to gesture than anything else, but I struggled to consider and manage compositions around the other visual draws.

When the sun finally made an appearance, I found that I could work on the streets themselves, which were increasing with activity. It was during this time that I reconsidered what I was trying to do. I was using my understanding of the visual draws to lead me to a subject to photograph, but I was looking for the wrong things. My attention needed be on the nature of the day. The story revolved around Valentine’s Day, so I needed to think of the story first and then use the visual draws to build as strong of a photograph as I could.

With that perspective, I recognized that it was the customers who should be the focus of my attention. As I observed the traffic on the street, I looked for a good location to position myself. I evaluated the quality of the light and the lines and shapes created by the various elements in and on the street to determine a good spot. More importantly, I made sure that the elements in the background helped to tell the story of the day, and thus included the flowers of the storefront and the wet streets.

As I stood there, subjects flowed around me. I scanned up and down the street, evaluating people who moved in my direction and who might make good fodder for a photograph.

I spotted a man with a large white teddy bear and a bouquet of balloons walking toward me. I adjusted my position slightly and took the photograph just as he began to turn the corner. He was completely oblivious to me as I made the photograph, and he continued uninterrupted.

What’s the Difference?

I was surprised when people pointed out that I expressed my process for photography as making rather than taking pictures. There is no real intent behind this, but rather it is an accurate expression of what I do when making photographs.

For me, taking photographs suggests the physical act of depressing the shutter-release button and taking the picture. There is not much thought involved beyond reacting to something and trying to document it with a camera.

Making a photograph requires a more careful examination of a subject and scene, where consideration is made for everything that finds a home in the final composition. That consideration does not necessarily have to involve long minutes parsing through a scene. It can happen in seconds, but it still involves awareness of what one is choosing to include and exclude from the frame.

When pressed, I explain the difference this way: If you are producing lots of photographs and are endlessly surprised by things you did not see when you released the shutter, and that you feel ruined your photographs, you are likely just taking photographs. Seeing and discovering things only when the image is up on your computer screen means that the picture-taking was just a reactive process. Making photographs and practicing a careful way of seeing does not mean that you will never discover surprises when you thoughtfully compose a photograph, but in my experience, those surprises are often the kinds that benefit the photograph rather than diminish it.

Be Thoughtful

Most of the photographs that many photographers make, even the great ones, fall short. It may be because the light is not right, or the gesture is wrong, or the moment is just not there. But they keep shooting, and when the moment reveals itself, the photographer, using all their skills and experience, makes the shot that matters. The “failed” images that led to that moment were necessary to eventually achieve that perfect shot, and thus were an important part of the process. It would only have truly resulted in failure if the photographer had stopped shooting before the moment finally presented itself.

If you want to increase your chances of succeeding as a photographer, you have to dedicate yourself to a process that is thoughtful and patient. By developing a repeated method of seeing, you naturally flow into a practice of patience. You have to take those brief moments of time to assess the visual draws, but all in consideration of the story you are trying to tell. Simply wanting to “catch something” is not enough to sustain and nurture a developed way of seeing.

Answering the Question of Why

Why are you making the picture? This is an important question to answer whenever you are making a photograph because the answer will naturally inform how you choose to photograph the subject or scene. Whether it is a child’s first steps or a splash of color against a white wall, knowing why a subject, scene, or moment is important to you informs the subsequent choices you make as a photographer.

When I photographed my newborn niece for the first time, I wanted to capture the love that my family had for her and her vulnerability. I had just such an opportunity when I photographed my stepmother bathing her. This activity provided those qualities of affection and tenderness I was hoping to capture. It was a moment of humanity that I am continually in pursuit of, especially as I get older.

When I first began to photograph, I instinctually responded to a scene and made the photograph, not really thinking about how I was creating the photograph. I just hoped that it was well-exposed and in focus. That was the extent of my creative thinking and I was happy just to have produced an acceptable snapshot. But as time passed and I demanded more of my photography, I questioned how I could adeptly capture the feelings of wonder and discovery that I felt when I witnessed a scene. This is where thoughtful seeing came into play and why it is so important to me to be conscious of those beats that occur between discovering a scene and depressing the shutter-release button.

Asking yourself why you are making a photograph allows you to evaluate what is important in the scene and what is not. You then begin to think about how the visual draws either benefit the subject or detract from it. You make choices that strengthen your photographs rather than weaken them.

Asking yourself the question of “why?” provides you with those brief moments of time that are necessary for being thoughtful with your process of seeing.

The answer to this question can vary. It certainly does for me. There are times when the answer to why I am making a photograph has everything to do with aesthetics; it is simply about making a satisfying and pleasing photograph. There are other moments when it is the mood or emotion that inspires me. The mechanics of making the photograph may be the same, but what drives me is often subject to change.

Moments

When I turned this corner on a Paris street, I knew what it was about the moment that I wanted to capture. Each member of this family, as well as the other figures on the street, were in a different world, their own personal bubbles. Even though the family of four was obviously together, they were each experiencing this moment in a very different way.

The father was busily looking at his phone, likely looking for directions. The mom seemed fatigued. The boy was distracted by something across the street, while the young girl was similarly distracted by something else, absently chewing on the arm of her sunglasses.

It was that feeling of disconnectedness that fascinated me. Yet in that fraction of time, I also considered the movement of the two figures to the right of the family. They were an important part of the shot, and I shifted my position to create as clean of a separation between all the bodies as I could.

The time between me discovering the scene and actually making the photographs was a matter of seconds, but that did not keep me from considering many things on my way to making the photograph. Because my camera settings had already been set for the lighting conditions of the day and because I have a consistent workflow with regard to the visual draws, I was free to focus completely on composition and the story of the moment.

Remember to Slow Down

Though I repeat this endlessly during my workshops and in this book, I cannot emphasize it enough. You have to slow down. You have to slow down not only in making the photographs, but also with the thinking that goes on in your head when trying to make photographs.

Our minds are constantly racing with thoughts, feelings, and distractions, all of which interrupt the creative process of seeing. This is the biggest disruption that we fight against when making thoughtful photographs. But by slowing down your visual workflow, even for a few moments, you afford yourself the luxury of thinking about why you are making the photographs and how you do so.

It can be difficult at first, but this is why I believe it is important for you to take note of how you are feeling when you are making photographs. Identifying when you are calm and relaxed versus anxious and nervous helps to determine how those feelings inform and affect your photography.

When you recognize that negative thoughts or distractions impair your ability to be consistent, you see the value of slowing down and taking your time. Though it may slow your process at first, over time it will become so natural that you are able to make important decisions within a fraction of a second.