A Brave – or Timid – New World

The age of COVID has been a rough time to keep a photography blog. Certainly I started out two years ago with the idea that I would be capturing a point history would look back on, with the many facets of our individual perspectives in the world: a time of face masks, social distancing, upheaval of traditional practices for businesses and other public establishments. As time wore on (and on, and on) this subject became less and less appealing, even to someone who is interested in documenting both the good and the bad of modern life. Eventually, the thing that is wearing at all of us personally ceases to be stimulating as a photographic subject.

On the whole, as well, the restrictions to movement and autonomy outside of our homes have probably worn on the spirits of more than a few photographers, regardless of chosen subject. If we are indeed tentatively stepping out of a pandemic world, we will probably aim to recapture some of what we had before it began, but I suspect few of us know exactly how to go about that. If we charge out, gung-ho, we may be trying to replicate the frame of mind we had two-plus years ago, and we may in fact be operating less naturally than we think. I have noticed that even before the last two years. I rather infrequently get the opportunity to photograph in a city, and when I do, I subconsciously try to replicate the same experience I had the last time, no matter whether the lighting, the season or the foot traffic is similar to the last time. This can be a recipe for disappointment. I am fairly certain that I’ll experience that feeling again as I go out post-pandemic to shoot in my old spaces.

I suppose the other extreme would be to acquire – or reacquire – timidity when photographing in public spaces, around people, or with people as a subject. Perhaps we’re out of the habit. For myself, learning to be comfortable and convey comfortable body language when shooting street photography was initially a challenge. For those who are introverts, or even those who aren’t, but have had to acclimate to social distancing and being careful around other people in public spaces, one’s bearing and the image they project as they photograph may need to be relearned. Expect some awkwardness as you overcome the anxiety of this neglected social situation. Same thing goes for aiming your lens at another person in a candid situation, like street photography: it may be harder than it was before, when you were in better practice. I found that the shutter on my Voigtlander camera was unexpectedly loud, even though I had acclimated to its sound in the past and learned that passersby don’t seem to notice or care about it.

I’d advise against going into photographing in public spaces with a mental image of what you’re “supposed” to be doing. And don’t force yourself to conform to that image. In my experience, forcing it never results in good images. Instead, address the insecurities or other issues as they arise, and look for practical ways to move past them, work around them, or integrate them into your process. Ideally, when we have life experiences (and who hasn’t experienced the last two years as a distinct departure from the norm?) we want to grow from them, integrate them, make them a part of our identity. Negative past experience generally doesn’t allow us the option. It forces its way into our identity. We are better off recognizing it and making it a part of our expression, lest we run the risk of growing further away from ourselves, instead of closer and more understanding of what makes us tick.

Boy, it was hard to write the above without ever using the buzzword “authentic.”