The Challenge of Photographing India

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“Scotland is more like Spain than Bengal is like the Punjab” Sir John Strachey, 1888

In his New York Times Magazine article ‘A Too-Perfect Picture’ (30/3/16), Teju Cole famously criticised the portrayal of India by the photographer Steve McCurry.

Based on a narrow reading of a minority of images contained in the photographer’s retrospective book India, Cole claims McCurry perpetuates an obsolete visual narrative and has a hackneyed style.  Continue reading

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Beware photographic portraits

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Portraiture is the most duplicitous of all photographic genres. Not only is the deceit calculated, it is known to all parties in advance.

This situation arises because there are four people in every portrait. There is the person the subject tries to project, the person they really are, the person the photographer is trying to present and, finally, the person the viewer thinks they are seeing. While they may not know each other personally, each is aware of the others’ existence.

Continue reading

Back to the future for creativity

Knowledge is not only power but also a source of creativity. What I mean is that a knowledge of photographic history can be an inspiration in spotting photographic possibilities.

I’d like to share a recent example (for another see Walk the line: taboo subjects in street photography).

I’ve been reading David Bate’s little book Photography: The Key Concepts. It’s an introduction to photographic theory and history. The cover blurb states:

“Photography: The Key Concepts” provides an ideal guide to the place of photography in our society and to the extraordinary range of photographic genres. Outlining the history of photography and explaining the body of theory which has built up around its use, the book guides the reader through the genres of documentary, portraiture, landscape, still life, art and global photography. Illustrated with a range of historical and contemporary images and case material, this book is essential reading for anyone interested in photography.”

It’s a succinct and readable account. The opening two chapters provide an overview of the challenges of constructing a history of photography (Ch.1) and a primer on some of the established methods of theorising photography (Ch.2). Subsequent chapters examine the history and aesthetic conventions of different genres using the tools and concepts from the opening chapters.

I have read many books on the history and theory of photography, so reading Bate’s book was a bit of ‘infilling’. I’m sorry it took so long to get around to it now.

In the course of chapter two, Bate illustrates the insights from applying different photographic theories – realist vs. semiotics – by analysing the image below. It was taken around 1855 by the Spanish aristocrat the Comte de Montizón at Regent’s Park Zoo.

The Hippopotamus at the Regent's Park Zoo, ca. 1855. By the Comte of Montizón.

The Hippopotamus at the Regent’s Park Zoo, ca. 1855. By the Comte of Montizón.

Back to the future: Last week I was photographing the animals at Chester Zoo (UK). Thanks to the encouragement of my f50 colleague Peter Barton, I have been doing a lot more of late. I have always been interested – not so much in straight wildlife photography, but more in an interpretive approach akin to portraiture and abstraction.

The usual MO is to disguise that I am at a zoo by eliminating signs of the man-made environment, and fellow visitors, from the frame.  However, one situation presented itself that immediately reminded me of that Regent’s Park shot from the early days of photography. The image below is the result.

Zoo stories, 2015. Copyright John Meehan.

Zoo stories, 2015. Copyright John Meehan.

While this image presents a rather obvious irony, the real story for me was to observe how gently the family of Orang-utans interacted. The collective care and attention they showed that little infant, as he took his early forays into the upper reaches of the enclosure, was an obvious contrast to the jostling of the visitors at the zoo.

The slant in the ‘rope’ in the shot, for instance, is the result of what I presume was the youngster’s mother holding the bottom of it in case she needed to intervene (she watched all the while) if he got into difficulty. She needn’t have worried, he did just fine.

It is tempting to think his act of defecating from a great height as he passed the onlookers was an expression of disdain, but perhaps not. Come to think of it, he did navigate across the top of the enclosure towards an adult eating an orange and stole the fruit from him. So, maybe he really was that mischievous little rascal I wished him to be.

John

Vietnam street portraits

Obsessions with subject matter are commonplace among visual artists. Photographers are no exception. Famous examples in photography include Eugene Atget’s early morning documenting of empty Paris streets, Alfred Stieglitz’s twenty year portrait of his painter wife Georgia O’Keefe, W Eugene Smith’s Pittsburgh odyssey of 1955, and Bernd and Hilla Becher’s cataloguing of industrial structures.

Senior, Hoi An, Vietnam 2014. © John Meehan

I stumbled across my own obsession by accident. In April 2009, I travelled to Vietnam for a three week photographic expedition. The aim was to photograph street life in general and fishing villages in particular. The success of that first trip saw me back in Vietnam in August 2009 for another three weeks. Further trips, with a fellow photographer, followed in 2012 and 2014. The resulting body of work now exceeds ten thousand images. During these trips, street portraiture unexpectedly came to dominate my work. It is a reflection of a new found obsession and love affair with the people of Vietnam: good natured, kind, assertive, pragmatic, and taciturn in varying measure.

I believe that knowledge of the history of photography is a source of creative ideas and depth in photographs. I frequently cross reference other photographers and photographic milestones in my work. Not by imitation, more by means of the iteration of motifs and mixing aesthetics associated with different genres. The idea is illustrated by, and described within, the writer Geoff Dyer’s brilliant book The Ongoing Moment.

What has evolved into an ongoing Vietnam ‘project’ now involves several overlapping strands (street life, traders, manual labourers, fishing communities), here I will present just a few of the street portraits. The aim is to show some of the varying portraiture styles I try to utilise – dictated by the subject – while photographing on the street. The photographs are accompanied by some background about the making of each image.

The influence of formalism is obvious throughout my work. It is extremely rare I make images with slanting horizons, out of focus images, or oblique points of view. My early training as a large format landscape photographer means I generally compose carefully and try to simplify the elements in the frame. The portrait above illustrates.

This early morning shot with soft lighting allowed for a simplified low contrast range of tones (stone, skin, shirt and hair). The gentleman caught my eye because he was sat alone and so obviously exuded calmness and dignity. I asked his permission to make a photograph and he nodded his consent. To keep things simple, I placed his left eye just outside the intersection of the ‘thirds’. I think the offset shirt and head add interest and save this from being a technically successful but boring photograph. Unusually, he never stiffened into an unnatural pose as so often happens. I didn’t want to interrupt his peace so I carefully took one shot, thanked him and left.

By contrast, the image below is reminiscent of the uncompromising direct portrait style frequently employed by Richard Avedon. Not so much compositionally but, rather in terms of its intensity, resolution and close examination of the subject.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERASecurity Guard, Chợ Lớn district of Ho Chi Minh City, 2014. © John Meehan

Despite a lot of experience photographing on the streets of Vietnam, I was well aware Chợ Lớn district – it means ‘big market’ and is Vietnam’s largest Chinatown – is not a typical tourist spot; locals are not so used to having strangers pointing cameras at them. Consequently, I kind of ‘stalked’ this guy by photographing around him until I plucked up the courage to point my camera at him directly from fairly close range.

The aim was to capture the tough menacing character of the face. His nonchalance contributing to the sense of confidence the man clearly possessed. The resulting close up is not cropped. In converting the colour raw file to black and white I tried to enhance his toughness by a high contrast treatment to stress the skin texture and his saliva.

The direct formal style of portraiture is one of several approaches to the street portrait. Another common strategy – sometimes referred to as ‘environmental portraiture’ – is illustrated in the next image. This is atypical image for me in many ways. Market traders, fisherman, porters, steelworkers and street vendors at work are recurring subjects.

Ceramics craftsmen in a social enterprise, Hoi An, Vietnam 2014. © John Meehan

Tourists are relatively scarce in Chợ Lớn but, Hoi An is a Mecca for them. This naturally means this beautiful tourist town has been heavily documented by thousands of photographers. To achieve a different perspective, I spent some time photographing in a social enterprise providing employment for people with learning difficulties. The people were employed producing jewellery and ceramic pieces for sale to tourists in the adjacent shop. The opportunity was the result of a chance invitation to photograph.

Any casual Google search for images of Vietnam will show the surprising similarity in images by thousands of professional and amateur photographers. The challenge is to see something fresh and different. In addition, I try to distinguish my Vietnam work by relating it the medium’s history, in an attempt to give my photographs a ‘classic’ feel, while deliberately blending aesthetic styles from different genres to save it from cliché and imitation.

(I am currently trying to secure funding to complete the final part of this Vietnam project. I hope to return to Vietnam in 2016 to complete a series of portraits of the many retired professionals and army veterans who meet daily in Hanoi).

Colour crept in

Bear with me; I am going to make a digression before the main part of this post.

In 1946, the most celebrated exponent of formalist black and white photography, Edward Weston, was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. Just two years later the 60 year old photographer ceased taking pictures altogether. However, during that two year period he took up colour photography seriously for the first time. Continue reading

On Street Photography

(This piece has its origins in a blog post by Steve Coleman of streetframe.co.uk  – about the ‘rules’ of street photography – and developed through discussions with Steve and the other members of the ‘coffee shop collective’, namely, Matt Hart (http://www.matthewhartphotography.com), Jack Mayall (http://www.jackmayall.com/), and Stephen Hart (@HartMediastuff7).

The views below are my own and no blame should be attached to the above named. Continue reading

Photographic Style (Pt3)

At Rest

This is the third instalment of a three part essay on photographic style. Part 1, addressed what I see as the three determinants of a photographer’s personal style. Part 2 looked at the dangers of imitation. Part 3 looks at what I call ‘necessary, ugly style’ (by which I mean styles that gain effectiveness from eschewing artfulness).

It is not uncommon to see photographs of humanity’s ugly side – wars, poverty, and other humanitarian disasters – captured with an artfulness that can make them appear like film stills.

I often find such images confusing. Is the photographer really complicit in a sanitising process sociologists call ‘recuperation’? As a photographer, I have a positivity bias towards my fellow image makers. I don’t like to think they are selecting shots of humanitarian crises simply for consumption by a media market. I prefer to believe that somewhere in their hearts at least a little of the spirit of a Bert Hardy, W. Eugene Smith, or Don McCullin guides them towards independence. I want to believe they are working in a ‘documentary’ tradition of recording the ‘truth’ (albeit theirs) of what was really there.

Presented with images of catastrophes that have deployed photographic language to create beautiful records of an ugly reality, I prefer to give the photographer the benefit of the doubt and believe he/she is being sardonic. In other words, that the images are an exercise in culture jamming intending, by their juxtaposition of beauty and tragedy, to draw our attention more to the awful reality depicted. By making us conscious that something so awful is being commoditized, by a media overly concerned with spectacle, the beautiful imagery gains in irony. The photographer has circumvented, to some degree, the commoditization of the events shown whilst keeping the documentary tradition alive in the face of dumbing down by the media industry. Bert Hardy, et al would likely approve.

By contrast, some work appears free of artifice and overt style. Such a pared back ‘style’ can nonetheless strengthen a message about some subjects. I think of such work as displaying ‘necessary, ugly style’. This approach can appear functional and the images too much like simple records. But the style is no accident, it is a sophisticated tactic intended to challenge us to see aspects of our reality that it is necessary we understand however ugly the images may seem.

The Iraq war photographs of the, sadly departed, German photojournalist Anja Niedringhaus, for instance, are often characterised by a literalness that adds power to the tragedy, comedy, and compassion present in many of her images. Her non-war images show she was more than capable of a more conventionally photographic style. I believe, in her war images, she was getting out of our way; believing the power of the subject she was showing us was enough of a statement.

In another genre, the landscape work of Robert Adams, and others associated with the New Topographic style, employs a relatively flat high key style to reinforce the blandness of a mundane suburbia, despoiled nature or industrial landscapes. While no less deliberate, Robert Adams’s style is geared more to getting us to see his point of view about modern American landscapes than savouring the photograph as an aesthetic object like his modernist namesake Ansel Adams.

In both of the above examples, I believe the photographers are intent on concentrating our attention on the message rather than the formal elements of their images. They seem to eschew – or at least severely limit – use of photography’s more common visual devices. In favouring a more simplistic visual language, they are no less applying a personal style to their imagery of course.

As viewer’s we are being treated as sophisticated enough to ‘get it’ – their message – by socially aware and technically skilled photographer’s. These image makers possess awareness of the mediums traditions and landmark imagery and a commitment to the spirit of the documentary tradition.

Dedicated to all those photojournalists who risk their lives to let the rest of us know when, where and why our fellow men, women and children are suffering. (RIP Jim Foley – see James Foley: a look at some of his finest work for Global Post).

© John Meehan 2014

Photographic style (Pt2)

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Part 2

Bad style

This is the second instalment of a three part essay on photographic style. Part 1, addressed what I see as the three determinants of a photographer’s personal style. This second part looks at the dangers of imitation. Part 3 will look at what I call ‘necessary ugly’ style (by which I mean styles that gain effectiveness from eschewing artfulness). Continue reading

Photographic style (Pt1)

This is the start of a three part essay exploring ‘personal photographic style’. It is not an analysis of what constitutes photographic style per se but more a reflection on how it is arrived at (if at all). Part 1 considers basic determinants of photographic style, Part 2 is about Imitative Style, and Part 3, considering what I call ‘necessary ugly style’ , will follow in the coming days.

Introduction

In his 1985 New York Times piece entitled ‘Robert Frank’s Existential Refrain’, Andy Grundberg notes the shifts in visual style in Frank’s work up to publication of The Americans in 1958 (in France). He observes of Frank, “…the young photographer tries on other styles like clothes, searching for the right fit.”[1] Frank was thirty four years old when his magnum opus was published and a photojournalist with many years’ experience.

All photographers will relate to Grundberg’s observation regarding Robert Frank. Who, at some formative stage, hasn’t sought to imitate a favourite photographer in some way as we evolve into our mature selves?

For any serious photographer, ‘photographic style’ can be a thorny concept. Exhortations to develop a signature style are common.  It is, at the very least, a double edged strategy however. On the one hand, it is a commercial proposition intended to create a unique market offer to attract clients in a crowded competitive market.  On the other, a personal effort by the photographer to identify and deploy those elements of a visual language that best communicate their feelings and thoughts about a subject.

I am here concerned with the latter meaning of ‘photographic style’ which I explore in three parts (parts 2 and 3 to follow in the next few days).

Good style

By ‘good’ I here mean a personally identifiable and authentic voice (i.e. it communicates something beyond the purely visual).

We all know famous photographer’s whose work is characterised by a signature style. Developing a ‘personal photographic style’ is a goal of many photographers and there are plenty of colleges courses claiming to help.

But what exactly are the determinants of an authentic personal style? It seems to me there are three factors at play; two obvious, one less so. I will argue the third one is most important.

Firstly, there are the technical choices which contribute to the personal style of a given photographer.  It is extremely rare, in my experience, to find a photographer who isn’t very particular about the tools they use. Most photographers favour particular focal length lenses, digital sensor size, and camera manufacturer. These choices extend to all manner of accessories (flash guns, reflectors, wireless triggers, tripods, filters, etc.) seen as key to achieving a desired look to the finished images the photographer seeks to produce. Obvious examples would include, Bruce Gilden and Martin Parr’s use of flash, Henri Cartier-Bresson’s use of the 50mm focal length (many other street photographer’s the 35mm), Ansel Adams and Andreas Gursky’s use of large format, Steve McCurry’s preference for Nikon (with 24-70mm zoom), etc., etc.

Secondly, most photographers have habitual working methods and techniques, in the way they use their chosen equipment, that impinge on their images in a consistent way:  Some shoot from  cars while others insist on tripods, some favour shallow depth of field, others maximum depth; some play fast and loose with camera angles and shooting positions (after Robert Frank), while some like everything straight and buttoned up in the frame; some favour high shutter speeds to freeze motion, while others slow everything down with neutral density filters to harness the effects of motion blur. The variations are endless and extend to software ‘workflows’. Serious photographers each have their ‘secret sauce’ they apply to images ‘in post’. The latter have dramatic impacts on visual style just shooting habits do.

So the first two determinants of style are equipment choices and how that kit is, specifically, put to work by a given photographer. These two are co-dependent (obviously) but, crucially, the choices made are also a reflection of the unique identity of the photographer.

This brings me to my third determinant of personal style.

The first two influences on personal style can be (relatively) easily replicated through equipment purchase, copying working methods and reverse engineering another’s post-processing workflow.

What can’t be replicated is the emotional and psychological connection of the photographer to his/her subject.  The third determinant of personal style is, therefore, the unique identity of the photographer and, in particular, their capacity for understanding and empathy. Authentic personal style as a photographer depends critically on the capacity to connect with whatever you happen to be photographing (whether people, animals, landscapes or man-made structures).

Photographers with authentic personal style, I suggest, somehow imbue their images with their emotional response to the subject.  Atget’s love of Paris, Ansel Adam’s awe of nature, Walker Evan’s fascination with the commonplace, Diane Arbus’s empathy with those outsider society’s mainstream (‘freaks’ is too pejorative), or Anje Niedringhaus’s compassion for the civilian victims of war are palpable expressions of their inner selves within their photographs.

We may imitate ‘the masters’, but what makes them ‘great’ cannot be bought (equipment) or learned (techniques).  If, as is often asserted, we reveal ourselves when we photograph the rarity of distinctive photographic voices surely supports the argument that their authenticity depends on the capacity of the photographer to connect, as a human being, on a social/psychological/emotional level to their subject. And, furthermore, to capture that connection, in a split second, in the form of a photograph that points out to the rest of us a deeper significance (‘truth’?) we could not otherwise see.

This third intangible factor clearly cannot be appropriated. Whether we have the capacity to develop an authentic personal style or voice, capable of significant photographic statements, will only be revealed to us through commitment to learning and continual practice. Logging the hours may make us a better photographer technically (if the 10,000 hour rule is valid), but the growth in our capacity to connect with our subjects, and marry that to our technique, will determine if we develop an identifiable ‘voice’.

I wonder how many hours Robert Frank logged before arriving at the personal style so many of us admire in The Americans?

(Footnote: The essay from which this post is taken is a riff on an idea, a process of personal reflection and clarification. None of this means the search for an authentic personal style must be the aim of photographing for all of us. Indeed, it is entirely possible what we perceive as a photographer’s personal style is actually the result of curator’s and editor’s selection decisions.  The rare glimpses we have had of Ansel Adam’s commercial work hints at this in his case.)

[1] Essay contained in the collection Crisis of the Real published by Aperture 1990

© John Meehan 2014

Taboo subjects in street photography

 

The story of Kenneth Jarecke’s 1991 photograph of an Iraqi soldier burnt to death in his truck has been widely reported. Differing editorial decisions in the US and Europe saw the photograph published by The Observer in the UK and Libération in France but, not by Time magazine or the Associated Press in the US. This is one of many such examples where particular images are deemed too politically or socially sensitive in relation to dominant public narratives.

For street photographers, this issue of self-censorship raises interesting personal questions. Primary among them being: In what ways does your personal identity and ethics affect what and how you photograph? Mary Ellen Mark put it this way:

“I think you reveal yourself by what you choose to photograph, but I prefer photographs that tell more about the subject… I think each photographer has a point of view and a way of looking at the world… that has to do with your subject matter and how you choose to present it. What’s interesting is letting people tell you about themselves in the picture”. [1]

Mark raises two very interesting points here.

Firstly, by drawing attention to choice of subject matter she raises the interesting question of whether we have boundaries around our vision that would, for example, deem some subjects to be out of bounds or even taboo.  Much as Jarecke’s image from Iraq was outside the bounds of acceptability for some US media outlets in 1991.  Do you always look for the happy faces, the comic juxtaposition or the graphic quality in an image or are you willing to take those images of the street that show their darker more challenging elements. That is to say, the kind of subject matter highlighted by Jacob Riis, Bert Hardy, Diane Arbus, Danny Lyons, Mary Ellen Mark and many others.

Secondly, she challenges us to escape our own identity in an attempt to reflect the reality of someone else’s. Of course, there is no way to completely suspend the self and depict someone else’s reality as they experience it. We can, however, expand our current identity by crossing its boundaries to share experiences with others living in very different contexts.  The resulting images, rather than being a pure reflection of the subject’s experience will be a modified version mediated by our presence. For our part, we have the images, but we are also changed and redefined in sometimes subtle, sometimes significant, ways as a result of our expanded experience.

Consider the following example drawn from a five year project I have been pursuing to document contemporary Vietnam (more portraits from the project are online here). This is an example of a subject that I would not normally point my camera at on the street.

I came across the scene below in Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon). It was 7.40 am and this mother and child were sat alone beside a busy thoroughfare in the centre of the city. I was immediately reminded of W. Eugene Smith’s Tomoko Uemura in Her Bath, Minamata, Japan 1972 (my all-time favourite photograph).

Given the physical appearance of the child, I wondered if he was one of the long term victims of Agent Orange spraying during the Vietnam war. I knew Cu Chi, twenty five miles outside Ho Chi Minh, was the area most heavily sprayed with the defoliant during the war. My heart went out to them (naturally).

I had my camera in my hand: What to do, take the image or respect their privacy and move on? I decided to move on. However, in the moment I had hesitated, the mother looked up at me and smiled. It changed my mind and I gestured if I could take a picture. She nodded her consent, closed her eyes and looked straight ahead. I thanked her in Vietnamese and left feeling very conflicted.

Image of mother and child, Saigon.

Mother and Child, Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam 2014. © John Meehan 2014

Was I justified in taking this picture? Had I overstepped some mark? Visually, I find it a satisfying image. I can analyse it formally but feel uncomfortable/trivial doing so given the human story it depicts.  Perhaps this is what photojournalists experience regularly when covering challenging subjects as W Eugene Smith was with his famed Minamata project in the early 1970s.

This is an example of an image I like but it challenges me both in subject matter and my own relation to the people depicted.  Without the back story, it would appear to a viewer that I sneaked the shot and thereby infringed the subject’s privacy. The truth, as I have explained, was very different.

This image was a moment in time with powerful repercussions for the photographer. Such is the  power of photography as a personal journey.

Images and words © John Meehan 2014

[1] Quoted in Marianne Fulton’s essay accompanying the book Mary Ellen Mark: 25 Years. Essay available here.

Vivian Maier Scholarship not Spectatorship

© Vivian Maier/Maloof Collection

© Vivian Maier/Maloof Collection

The public’s appetite for Vivian Maier shows no signs of sating. Four books of images (and more on the way), two feature length films, international gallery exhibitions, and countless press articles since her archive was unearthed in a Chicago storage in 2007. Continue reading

Tatsuo Suzuki an appreciation

Tatsuo SuzukiTatsuo Suzuki.  Image © Tatsuo Suzuki. http://justatoy.pixu.com/biography

Born in Tokyo Japan in 1965, Tatsuo Suzuki is a Tokyo based amateur photographer with a nine to five day job[1]. He started taking photographs in 2008. Initially photographing in colour, his signature black and white style quickly emerged.

In terms of workflow, Tatsuo Suzuki favours digital rangefinder style cameras such as the Sony RX1 and Fuji X100s. He sometimes employs built in flash to enhance the graphic quality of his high contrast images. The images, taken in colour, are converted to black and white and enhanced using Nik Silver Efex on a PC[2]. He favours high contrast warm toned images.

For presentation of his work, Suzuki is a prolific user of social media with portfolios and single images simultaneously showcased on multiple platforms (e.g. Flickr, Twitter, 500px, Pixu, Pixyblog, Kujaja, 1x, Facebook, Tumblr, and Pinterest). Accompanying text is minimal, usually one word descriptive titles such as Portrait, Mirror, Girls, etc. However, the majority of photographs are untitled.

Suzuki concentrates exclusively on Tokyo street portraiture. His work is characterised by a high degree of empathy for his subjects.  In a July 2013 interview with streetviewphotography.net, he stated: “I’m into the people, so I shoot people mainly. I would like to express their passion, feeling, pain and more.  Not interested in cool composition shots.”1

Suzuki treads the streets of Tokyo’s Shinjuku district made famous by the doyen of Japanese street photographers Daido Moriyama (1938-). However, the work of the two men – a generation apart – is quite distinct.

The older man is known to have been influenced by William Klein’s (1928-) Tokyo imagery of the 1950s[3] and one can see the same influence in Suzuki’s work. These influences are different for each man though. They both share Klein’s emphasis on people and their life on the street. Similarly, they both employ strong graphical motifs such as high contrast, road markings, strong shadows, and repeating patterns (zebra crossings, light effects and clothing especially).

However, there are significant differences in Tatsuo Suzuki’s work.  It displays none of the eroticism and frayed morality evident in Moriyama’s portrayal of Shinjuku. In the 1960s and 1970s Shinjuku was populated by bohemians, gangsters and prostitutes – much like London’s Soho and New York’s Times Square – but like them, it is today a less edgy environment.  Perhaps this change, in part, accounts for the warmer more connected relation to the people Suzuki photographs. Yes, we can find examples of suspicious glances and existential alienation in his work but, for the most part his subjects smile or are unaware of his presence. His work doesn’t display the distress apparent in many of Moriyama’s subjects nor the aggression in Klein’s.

Suzuki is nonetheless a sophisticated photographer with wide artistic tastes. His Facebook profile demonstrates eclectic tastes in music (punk and free jazz) and cinema (Tarrantino and Goddard). His work has an edge that depends more on its graphic quality than the spectacle of its subjects.

Tatsuo Suzuki possesses a gentle sympathetic eye which, allied to his obvious cultural awareness both about photography and other art forms, lends his work a visual power and human engagement that holds the gaze.

(Thanks to Tatsuo for reviewing this article and giving permission to use his image.)

Sources cited:

[1] http://www.streetviewphotography.net/i-tatsuo/

[2] http://justatoy.pixyblog.com/

[3] http://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/tate-modern/exhibition/william-klein-daido-moriyama

Article text © John Meehan 2014