I consume a lot of photography related information on the internet, and the one thing I know about myself is that I am easily influenced. This mostly stems from my curiosity; usually I’ll try some new technique, have a little fun, then go back to my main stuff. So when I started to notice posts online about using flash for candid street photography, I loved the look and started to devour content. In fact, I remember first stumbling upon the work of Bruce Gilden during a pregame for a Fraternity party, getting completely sucked in and then missing the entire night. I remember staring at this Gilden photo in awe, then this photo, then stumbling upon interviews with Charlie Kirk and his flash work in Tokyo. I knew I had to try it. I read all the tutorials, all the techniques, all the negative comments from readers exclaiming that “if somebody tried to do that I would smash their camera.” I didn’t care, and only gained confidence when the photographers themselves noted that for the most part people didn’t seem to mind. The only thing left was to get out do it, so I slapped on a flash and wandered out into the night.

More after the break…

Right out of the gate, I saw this business man standing outside of a subway station. I figured he looked nice enough, so I ambled by, squatted down and fired. Smiling, I gave my customary “Thank You” and moved on. About half way down the block, I heard screaming, and I realized the man had followed me down the street in order to confront me. He was adamant that I had no right to take his photo, verbally scalding me for my attempted “Michael Moore moment,” then proceeded to cite his extensive experience in the entertainment industry as validation of his expertise. I listened calmly despite my insides churning and burning, and simply replied that I was sorry to have offended him. Having none of it, he demanded that I delete the photo, to which I responded by turning over the Leica to reveal the lack of LCD. Shaken, but unready to abandon abrasiveness, he clunkily ordered that I pull out the film. At this point, this man had begun to verge into the realm of irrationality, and I politely replied that I would absolutely not ruin my photos. “That’s it then, that’s all you have to say!” the redfaced man blurted. Once more I apologized for causing him discomfort, but explained that it was within my right to take public photos, and that I didn’t know what else he wanted. He lobbed in some muffled last words as he stalked away, and I was left alone on the corner a bit rattled and completely out of the mood for more experimentation. The worst part is, the resulting photo is entirely mediocre…though in retrospect it does convey a sense of the anger that I would soon be privy too.
It would be a couple of weeks before I mustered up the interest to try again. As it had begun getting dark before I left from work, I brought along the flash so that I could take some shots on my walk home. I rigged up and set out, and soon found some interesting subjects. This time, however, I couldn’t pull the trigger. I was getting anxious, finding reasons for why this person wasn’t interesting or that aspect wasn’t working. I wasn’t having fun, and felt lame because I wasn’t ballsy enough to get back into it. Finally, while walking through Washington Square park, I spotted a subject and decided to pounce. But again I hesitated, and only managed to fire the strobe as the man passed by. “Thank You,” and on my way, hey at least I tried. DEJA VU, suddenly I could hear the man yelling to get my attention, but I pretended not to notice over the music from my iphone. Without warning I was yanked back by the strap on my camera bag, whipped around to face the gentleman head on. “How dare you invade a persons privacy like that! You have no right to take my photo, ABSOLUTELY NO RIGHT.” Still reeling from the the violent grab bag (no pun intended), endured a spittle filled tirade, to which I again explained that I was sorry to have offended him and that I only took the shot because I enjoyed his impeccable outfit. This did little to stem his displeasure, but he eventually moved on after an extra dash of lecturing for good measure. The consolation prize? An image that I actually like

If you are keeping score at home, that’s two flash photos and two street confrontations. That’s one hell of a hit rate, and the reason why I have not returned since. If I kept going would there be another clash? Probably not. Did I mind the confrontations? Honestly, not really. But the “joy” of shooting was steadily  replaced by a general sense of unease, and that alone has kept the flash in the bag. I know that with practice and patience I could make interesting images, and while I still greatly enjoy the visual style, I think I’ll go on hiatus for now. For the record, I completely understand the sentiments of these two gentlemen, but least I came out with some stories to tell…