Street Photography has been enjoying an extraordinary renaissance in the last few years with a raft of dedicated publications, festivals, magazines and exhibitions.
Now practitioners from across the world have come together to offer their work in an online sale to raise money for and awareness about the work of the charity PhotoVoice.
The Street Collection includes beautiful, dramatic, comic and moving images that capture the energy and idiosyncrasy of everyday life on streets across the globe. Over 350 prints are available, at £100 each (excl. printing, post and packaging). This is a unique opportunity to buy outstanding images by leading photographers, many of which have been exhibited and published widely but never previously made available for sale.
Every penny of the sale price will go directly to supporting PhotoVoice’s work enabling marginalised communities around the world to tell their own stories and represent themselves visually. You can find out more about how buying a print will support PhotoVoice’s pioneering work.
after a bit of shooting after work, I got on the crowded C-train during rush hour and scored a seat, and as usual I’m reading a book to round off my day. At some point a suit wearing tinted glasses takes a seat next to me and opens his newspaper. he kindly folds his paper vertically in half, like an experienced NYC subway rider.
Minding my own business, I keep reading my novel. a new subway stop comes up and people shuffle left and right, seats become vacant and occupied at the same time, upon the NYC style “stand clear at the closing door” the train takes off. newspaper guy chews gum. he’s smacking every 30 seconds. I make smacking noises. the guy to the left of me seems to get really irritated by all that smacking. I’m reading. smack to my right… he goes on my nerves. I finally turn to him and call him “an obnoxious douchebag” he says “excuse me” I say “stop that shit” he says “I’m sorry”… I say “I’m gonna hit you on your head” his rebuttal “really” comes quickly, but he gets off the train at the next stop. what a coincidence…
I didn’t write in my journal for a while, the job got busy and I got lazy with photography for a while. The holiday season and all didn’t help either… Just recently I invested my hard earned dollars in a new gizmo, namely a Ricoh GR-D, a sweet digital device with any control a photographer desires.
Believe me, besides all the crap, its a photographers camera. I used this little thing for a while and got some decent shots. In reality I didn’t get any killer shots though. Not yet. Anything I posted on flickr today didn’t get any comments. well, it has been 2hrs or so, but I’m impatient… If I had the money, I’d buy an M8, no matter how flawed it is…
hell, I’m already thinking of getting an M6 again and deal with the film bs. You know, I just went trough my libraries and I was in awe looking at the film shots. Yeah, the photo is from the night I fried the M6 TTL as the camera, hot shoe and flash were drenched…
I think this is the first street photo I asked permission for, ever – I saw the scene and thought to myself “how surreal is that”, but kept on walking.
Within half a block I kept looking back about three times – until it hit me “I have to photograph this little scene”. Finally I managed to get my thoughts straight and turned around, but I wasn’t sure if I could get a shot. My instinct told me to adjust the shutter speed of the Leica, just in case – so I did.
The guy noticed me as I walked back towards him, and I didn’t think he wanted his picture taken. in order not to ruin the shot I asked him “do you mind if I take a picture – this scene seems surreal” pointing at the upside-down mannequin legs. “no problem” he responded, and I started to frame.
In this case -sort of close-up- I had a problem seeing the edges of the 28mm Voigtlander finder and fiddled around a bit in order to get him in the frame (mind you, the 28 Voigt lines are much easier to see than the 28mm viewfinder lines in my Leica’s .72 viewfinder).
During the procedure, he noticed that he is of some sort of interest and moved to the left – I moved back and took a 2nd shot. What you see here is the first attempt.
The Saga Continues
While the Leica is in the shop, I got permission to use my wife’s Voigtlander Bessa R3a along with the 28mm lens, not too fast at f3.5, but what the hell, there’s plenty of light out there right now.
Since the R3a doesn’t sport framelines wider than 40mm, I used the accommodating Voigtlander metal viewfinder, which is very bright and contrasty – honestly, brighter than the built-in viewfinder on my Leica M6 TTL. Oftentimes I don’t use a viewfinder anyways, so I don’t have trouble with that.
There I go, snapping away, finishing off my wife’s roll (Kodak 160VC) and happen to walk across our “lab around the corner” after work. “papi, papi, papi” I heard. Mind you, I live in a hispanic neigbourhood and usually don’t pay attention to some language I don’t understand.
Until somebody grabbed me at my sleeve, I recognized the lab lady’s kid “my mom was looking for you”. “Can you develop some b/w for me?” she asked… “sure” I replied and started rewinding the Bessa, in order to get the color roll developed.
After like 5 turns, the rewind crank broke off. Fuck, the second camera breaking on me within a week. The design of this piece is especially delicate, the folding crank has a hole in it, in order to reveal a screw’s head. Now, if the screw’s head would be shorter, the crank won’t need a hole, thus be sturdier. Interestingly, Voigtlander has changed the design on the newer Bessa models.
one morning I stuff my breakfast bagel from the deli in my bag and wrap the strap of the trusted M6 around my wrist, two turns as usual. Shit, it’s 9:25 already, my boss is going havoc on me, if I’m not on time… 9:30 on the dot that is. As usual, I do a quick exposure guess – the camera’s meter quotes a 250th at f8, as expected – and I’m ready to take the shot of the century.
Sure enough, I spot a character, aim the camera, hit the shutter button and zipp-whirr — nothing happens, the damn thing doesn’t work… quickly, I turn the rewind button, cock again and zipp-whirr – this piece of fine machinery doesn’t do a damn thing. Leica broken.