PHOTOGRAPHY IS LIKE GOLF
BY ANDREW HARDACRE
Photography reminds me of golf. You can walk all day and get nothing. You wonder why you bother. Then you get one good shot and you can’t wait to get out again. You reminisce about your ‘birdies and eagles’ and pray for a hole in one, that magical lucky shot that you want to frame and hang. Gary Player famously said, the harder I practice the luckier I get. But most of the time it’s bunkers and bogies.
I suppose my photography gene comes from my father. On my 18th birthday he gave me his Leica M3. He had already taught me to develop and print black and white film. He said his eyes couldn’t manage the rangefinder any more. How he ever afforded it I don’t know. He couldn’t have bought it new. I still have it. I pursue two very different passions through the viewfinder. All Creatures Great and Small on the one hand and the streets on the other. I am, I suppose, a flâneur. I was asked recently what the two genres had in common. My reply was fieldcraft. Both require you to observe and learn. In the same way you read a creature's 'circle of fear' - how close you can approach without provoking a fight or flight response - you read the body language of the people around you. You start to understand and anticipate how animals behave and people are just another species on a different branch of the evolutionary tree.
But 'street' is a broad canvas. Often the photos I shoot are about light, geometry and patterns as much as people. I reject the idea that street photography can only be about quirky juxtapositions or shots designed to shock. If it has to fit in a box it isn't for me. I don't like labels. I had not appreciated until recently how restrictive the EU has made candid photography. It seems you can no longer photograph people who can be recognised without their written consent. Many of the classic photographers of the last century would probably be in jail today. A classic case of good intent overwhelming common sense. At least my birds and bugs do not quote EU law at me when I poke a lens in their direction. Asia is somewhat distanced from the constraints imposed by the custodians of the butter mountain but there is certainly heightened sensitivity to candid street photography. This seems to me however to be more politically than socially driven.
Even within nature or wildlife photography there are elite or exclusive clubs. Within bird photography the practitioners of BIF photography look down on those that are largely photographing BOAP (Birds in Flight versus Birds on a Perch; I made the second one up). I am sure that BIF photographers will one day split and we will have the 'Fast BIFs' and the 'Slow BIFs'. Shades of the Judean People's Front versus the People's Front of Judea or even the Judean Popular People's Front - splitters! I will plough my own furrow. (Whatever happened to the Popular Front, Reg? He's over there.)
The risk is that we overthink things. A few months back I Iatched on to a comment by David duChemin. He asserted (I paraphrase) that there are no good and bad photographs. There are only photographs that achieve what you intended and those that do not. If they do then they are successful rather than good.
Who is to judge whether a photograph is good or not. I have a considerable library of photography books - some are compilations - Fan Ho's Greatest Hits from K-tel (maybe not) - some are theoretical, philosophical, instructional...... but in the case of all the compilations I invariably look at a few images and scratch my head and ponder - why? What did he or she see in that? Why is it lauded as a great photo. Art is deeply personal. A few years back we did a holiday in Venice, Madrid and Salamanca. I dragged my poor wife round so many art galleries and exhibitions she probably never wanted to see another in her life. In Madrid we went to the Museo Reina Sofia and eventually we stood before the work that is Guernica. My wife stood bemused for a few minutes and then said 'Is that it? I don't like it. Let's go.' I can't criticise. We went to the Guggenheim in Venice and I stood looking at a pile of what I thought were discarded coloured plastic bottles. Alas this was an exhibit. It just goes to show that you can fool all of the people some of the time. I wish I had kept all those old Fairy Liquid bottles. Could have been worth a fortune. Here's one I prepared earlier.
I suppose a photo essay needs photos and these are a few I took yesterday. We are fortunate to have a wonderful view over the harbour from our apartment and the light can be a temptress early in the morning or at dusk. Yesterday was such a day. So whilst the memsahib was still asleep, I grabbed my camera and walked down to the promenade. The older generation, of which I suppose I am now one, tends to rise earliest and there were a few hardy souls braving the waters. I just walked and enjoyed the light.
Photographs copyright Andrew Hardacre. Not to be reproduced or used without express permission of the photographer.
