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Garry Winogrand

Photographer

Introduction 

It is Los Angeles around 1982. Our man is loitering and walking along the street, small camera bag slung over one shoulder, Leica in hand resting briefly at the side of his ear, as if he can hear it ticking. Attracted by something in front of him he brings the Leica to his eye, clicks the shutter and flicks the camera rapidly away as if flicking a fly from in front of his face. Rechecking the exposure, he moves and repeats the same movements. Sat at a café someone asks this man with the broad New York accent what he’s doing, he shrugs, laughs, affects a broad smile and replies “I’m surviving”. In the USA this seems the most appropriate and suitably non committal answer to ward off further enquiry from a hesitant public perhaps uncomfortable at being photographed by a stranger.  When the day is done our photographer unlocks a door, enters and proceeds to add his days work to a large polythene bag containing roll after roll of labelled film which he then locks in a metal filing cabinet. This is American photographer Garry Winogrand appearing on the American Public Broadcasting Service show Creativity. During the clip Winogrand casually admits that having been in LA for a little under two years he has developed about two thousand rolls and has a further two thousand to go.  Garry Winogrand has intrigued me since I became interested in the art of photography. The purpose of my essay is to explore Winogrand further.   What were his influences and what was his contribution to photography? Why the unusually large output of film and what does his work and prodigious output tells us about Winogrand the man? 

Copyright ⓒ ⁠Image of Garry Winogrand. Used here under fair use for educational and critical purposes. All rights remain with the copyright holder

Born in the Bronx, New York City in 1928 there is little biographical detail of Winogrand’s early years. He lived in a small apartment with his father, Abraham a leather worker and mother, Bertha who made neckties for piecemeal work. It was from this apartment that from an early age of ten or twelve Winogrand formed the habit of walking the streets late into the night. Winogrand told friend Tod Papageorge in taped conversations in  1977 that he walked the streets of the Bronx until late at night, seeking refuge from the apartment where his parents ”did not put a high priority on privacy” and where one could be alone only in the bathroom.  The early wanderings and presumably observations of Winogrand, is where he found privacy and solitude. Here is the earliest clue to the approach he was to adopt for the rest of his life. 

Following High School Winogrand spent eighteen months in the US Air Force before going on  to study at City College New York. Two semesters later in 1948 Winogrand moved to Columbia University New York, enrolling on a General Studies painting class. Here at the age of 20 Winogrand started taking photographs, experimenting with various cameras.  He met George Zimbel a fellow student and photographer for the Columbia Spectator who had 24hr access to the University darkroom and together Zimbel and Winogrand formed the ‘Midnight to Dawn Club’, photographing by day, developing and printing through the night. 

Around this time the previously accepted aesthetic conventions in photography which valued a high standard of technical competency, craftwork and sophistication were beginning to be questioned and challenged. In the 1948 exhibition French Photography Today at The Photo League galleries New York, the curator and photographer Louis Stettner, apologised for what he felt were prints not presented to American standards. More significantly in 1945 and also in New York, Alexey Brodovitch the Art Director of Harpers Bazaar had produced his book Ballet.  Being very much a departure from what had gone before Gerry Badger wrote, the images in Ballet “transgressed every notion of what a good photograph should be“. Influential in championing this kind of photography Brodovitch ran the Design Laboratory giving workshop classes in photography and design. Garry Winogrand attended his photojournalism class in 1949 at the New School of Social Research in NYC. Brodovitch’s ethos and that of other teachers in New York was to encourage their pupils to break the rules, be different, experimental, challenging and put trust in their own judgement. This new style of photography although criticized from various quarters was seized upon by Winogrand who “embraced the medium as passionately as he did because it seemed to answer his agitated sense of himself”.

In 1952 Winogrand was taken on by the Pix Photo Agency in Manhattan where his friend George Zimbel worked. The same year he married a dancer Adrienne Lebow.  In 1954 Winogrand left Pix and joined The Brackman Associates. His pictures began to appear in Sports Illustrated, Pageant, Argosy and Redbook amongst others. In 1955 two of Winogrand’s photos appeared in The Family of Man exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art, New York (MOMA).  Winogrand was introduced to photographer’s representative Henrietta Brackman. Winogrand turned up for his interview with “three or four piles of prints that reached from floor to desktop” Brackman’s diary notes describe  him as “with strong inner drive – his own style and character”. Photographer Dan Weiner also represented by Brackman suggested Winogrand look at Walker Evans book American Photographs when he learnt of Winogrand’s proposed trip, in 1955, around the USA with his wife. It was this book that brought Winogrand to the realisation that photographs could reveal much more than initial surface detail. However the  most significant influence came from Robert Frank who travelled America in 1955 producing three years later the photo book Les Americains. Winogrand admired Frank’s use of the wide angle lens, an approach that Winogrand was to adopt in most of his life’s work. In terms of imagery Frank and Winogrand occupy the same territory. The fundamental difference was that as a Swiss immigrant Frank was an outsider looking in. His images  of America showed “a seedy, grey underbelly, populated by isolated, alienated people” …….”A landscape of desolation that seemed to consist of highway detritus, dingy diners, decrepit automobiles and greasy gas stations”.  An America that perhaps only an outsider could, or dared show and not surprisingly the subject matter was criticised.  Whereas Frank generalised and seems more considered in his approach, Winogrand was more snapshot orientated focusing in on the complexities and subtleties of human communications.  Nevertheless Frank had prepared the ground for Winogrand, the pessimistic insider commenting on his own country. This new style of photography known as “the available light revolution” was being championed by commissioners of photography Alexey Brodovitch of  Harpers Bazaar and Alexander Libermann at Vogue.

It was not until around 1960 that Winogrand considered he first became a serious photographer. Despite having his first solo exhibition at the Image Gallery NYC his marriage was beginning to fail. Separating in 1963 and divorce in 1966, this was a difficult time for Winogrand. Being a secularized Jew his family background was one where divorce was not contemplated. His biggest fear was the thought of having to leave his children Laurie (age 10) and Ethan (age 8).  At times like this there is a need to develop coping strategies. Winogrand chose to immerse himself further into photography, as he told Tod Papageorge “Photography is always out there: it’s a way to get out yourself “.  He turned his attention to photographing women in the street, something he continued for the rest of his life producing Women are Beautiful published in 1975.  Adopting the wide angle lens he often had to close in on his subjects, containing more peripheral detail and not worrying about verticals or horizontals being true in the frame.  There’s an anxiety to the images.  Indeed it was during the Cuban missile crisis of 1962 that Winogrand reached an important realisation in his life. Walking the streets day and night in desperation and fear at the thought of nuclear war,   Winogrand’s underlying pessimism brought him to the conclusion, “At that point. I found I was nothing. I had nothing. I had nothing to say about what would happen to my life. And it was liberating. I was nothing. Which meant that I was free. Which meant “live your life”. 

Copyright ⓒ ⁠Image by Garry Winogrand. Used here under fair use for educational and critical purposes. All rights remain with the copyright holder

While the USA was anxious about its future, the new style of photography found a keen supporter in John Szarkowski, Director of Photography at The Museum of Modern Art.  Szarkowski held a number of influential exhibitions over the next few years and Winogrand was one of Szarkowski’s favoured photographers.   In 1964 Winogrand was awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship to travel through America. His application for the Fellowship reveals Winogrand’s pessimism, “I can only conclude that we have lost ourselves, and that the bomb may finish the job permanently, and it just doesn’t matter, we have not loved life”.  Some of the results of this work were shown in the New Documents exhibition (a joint showing with close friend Lee Friedlander and Diane Arbus), one of three influential exhibitions in the late 60’s.   

If, as Susan Sontag asserts in On Photography that “To collect photographs is to collect the world” then Winogrand made more of an attempt than most but much of Winogrand’s work is sympathetic to Sontag’s other theories. Sontag feels that photography is a way of acquiring, a form of possession allowing the photographer to both participate and alienate.   There is a predatory aspect to Winogrand’s images, essentially seeing his subjects in a way they cannot see themselves and in that sense they are violated. In this respect Winogrand’s photographs of women are the most problematic and provide ammunition for Freudian psychoanalytic theorists and feminist criticism. The criticism being that photography allows women to be looked at and men to possess the gaze. Furthermore, those photographic images which construct women as objects for the pleasure of the male gaze are an exercise of power; the concept of voyeurism and fetishism. Winogrand’s images of women are unsettling, predatory, and slightly aggressive. It’s as if the images are echoing a resentment and frustration that perhaps Winogrand had with his relationship to women at the time of his marriage break-up. As if photographing women was a way of retaliation, control and possession, dealing with his angst and again finding an escape out on the streets.  If subconsciously Winogrand’s work in this area is a means of control and voyeurism, then his persistent evasiveness allowed him to sidestep the criticism and debate?   We have little to work on except the summations of contemporaries and his reported quotes.  In 1970 at the Rochester Institute of Technology he stated to a class “I photograph to find out what something looks like photographed. Basically that’s why I photograph in the simplest language”. There is certainly a work ethic to Winogrand’s immense output, as if he knew of nothing else. As if at times the mere act of going out, and pressing the shutter was enough to satisfy the inner need and anxiety he felt.

 He told his friend Lee Friedlander “If it wasn’t for photography I’d probably be in jail”.  

Winogrand was not the first street photographer. There is a clear link to Americans Robert Frank, Bob Schwalberg, Ed Feingersh and Arthur Fellig (aka Weegee) and Europeans Andre Kertez, Brassai and Henri Cartier-Bresson. Comparing Cartier-Bresson’s influential book  “The Decisive Moment” to the work of Winogrand, Cartier-Bresson almost rigidly stuck to the confines and limitations of the frame, mostly refusing to crop, producing lyrical, poetic and essentially positive life affirming narratives. Winogrand however was frustrated by the confines of the frame and acknowledged that the frame readily changed meaning. He uses a wide angle lens to include as much detail as he could, but still there are things happening outside the frame that we should be aware of. Where we feel Cartier Bresson has an almost welcome and integral presence in the picture, Winogrand is predatory, slightly invasive and voyeuristic. There is a sense that, although being on the street the camera acts as a barrier between him and the public, negating the need for interaction and dialogue. He likes it this way because he is, after all, in his own private world, he can continue snapping away uninterrupted. In this sense Martha Rosler feels that Winogrand is a right wing photographer “who aggressively rejects any responsibility ( culpability) for his images and denies any relation between them and shared public meaning”  Where Cartier Bresson searches out the decisive moment out in the field in a predetermined way Winogrand is far less secure. He can’t decide what the decisive moment is or will be.  The more he shoots the more chance he has of determining what the decisive moment was, at a later date. Some of his images are direct hits and; the decisive moments as Cartier -Bresson would have it are clear and obvious. In other shots the decisive moment is not so obvious; neither is as Barthes theorizes “the punctum”. There is ambiguity and we have to work harder for a deeper understanding of the photographer’s original intentions. Winogrand admitted that he would often try and change the scene by tilting the camera, attempting to define the interpretation that he felt worked best for him. In a sense Winogrand’s work is democratic, the wide angle lens equalizes everything but in a stultifying way. Often there is tension and insecurity shown to best effect in Public Relations. In his Airport series people are waiting or in transit to seemingly uncertain futures, the Airport terminal buildings, arrivals and departure lounges acting as a metaphor for the American dream.  In Winogrand’s The Animals a bored public stare at equally bored animals unable to communicate with each other. All through Winogrand’s work there is this sense of boredom and waiting.  Winogrand steps back as an impartial emotive observer, neither empathising nor criticising.   

In 1969 Winogrand separated from his second wife of two years Judy Teller. He had started teaching and made the decision to give up commercial assignments. He was awarded his second Guggenheim Fellowship to continue exploring media events and their effect on the public.  Between 1969 and 1976 Winogrand shot about 700 rolls of film at public events, producing 6,500 eleven by fourteen inch prints for Tod Papageorge to select for the exhibition and book Public Relations. 

Copyright ⓒ ⁠Image by Garry Winogrand. Used here under fair use for educational and critical purposes. All rights remain with the copyright holder

Between 1971 and 72 Winogrand was teaching at the Institute of Design, and Technology in Chicago. In 1972 he married Eileen Adele Hale before moving in 1973 to the University of Texas in Austin. While in Texas he continued shooting thousands of rolls of film. He received a commission to photograph the Fort Worth Fat Stock Show and Rodeo which he covered from  1974 and 1977 culminating in the book published in 1980. In 1978 Winogrand resigned from the University of Texas and again moved to Los Angeles, taking up his third Guggenheim to document California. Print sales allowed him to rely less on teaching or commercial assignments and more on his own photographic pursuits. Gradually Winogrand could not keep pace with his own output. This was exacerbated by the acquisition in 1982 of an auto wind for his Leica and the thousands of pictures he took from the passenger seat of his car while being driven by his friend Tom Consilvio. However Szarkowski tells us that his last few thousand rolls were failures technically be it either optically, chemically or merely lack of a steady hand. It was as though the mere act of making an exposure, the pressing of the shutter was enough to satisfy the need, the final results being  of much less importance. When in 1983 Winogrand was asked in a German television interview why he photographed, he reiterated the comment he had made to Tod Papageorge, “how do I say it? The way I would put it is that I get totally out of myself. It’s the closest I come to not existing; I think which is the best – which to me is attractive”

On the 1^st February 1984 Winogrand was diagnosed with gall bladder cancer. Attending therapy sessions Winogrand wrote “he had not resolved feelings of regret and fury at the failure of his first marriage” and more tellingly “hopelessness and helplessness about the world”.  Revealed is the internal, melancholic and pessimistic Winogrand in opposition to the public energetic, talkative persona we see in the grainy video clip from 1982. So did Winogrand shoot so prolifically in order to deal with this inner pessimism and anxiety, to keep it at bay? Was there some kind of obsession taking place?  Shelley Kasle, Ph.D. Research Assistant Professor at the University Of Arizona College Of Medicine who gave a talk at the Center for Creative Photography, Tuscon, Arizona (CCP) in 2001 entitled Winogrand: Approaching Obsession; “If one were to interpret Winogrand’s photographic output as obsessive and or compulsive repetitions of an anxiety quelling ritual…. We did not find symptoms of either construction in Winogrand’s work. We only found approach approach approach”  

On March 19^th 1984 Winogrand died at the Garson Clinic, Tijuana New Mexico. When Winogrand died the scale of his output was realised. According to Szarkowski, there was discovered, about 2500 rolls of undeveloped film, 6500 rolls developed but not proofed and contact sheets made from about 3000 rolls. Furthermore discovered processing rolls indicate that while in LA alone he developed 8522 rolls of film. The Garry Winogrand Archive established at the  CCP in 1983,  comprises of “over 20,000 fine and work prints, 20,000 contact sheets, 100,000 negatives and 30,500 35 mm colour slides as well as a small group of Polaroid prints and several amateur motion picture films”

Conclusion 

Not surprisingly this vast legacy presents itself with problems. John Szarkowski describes the frustration of looking through a third of a million images, “trying to make sense of and derive a clear and concise body of work which somehow reflect the photographer’s intentions and ethos”. For CCP the debate in 2001 for the six guest curators chosen to select images for the exhibition, ‘The Garry Winogrand Game of Photography’ was similarly problematic. Should images that Winogrand had not looked at be included in their exhibition?  Would Winogrand have chosen those selected images himself? Was the fact that he did not destroy them, justification enough to show them? Or by showing them does that not in effect re-interpret the artists work in a way not originally intended? Winogrand left a conundrum and the debate will doubtless surface again as his archive continues to be explored. 

What is clear though is that amongst the mountain of work, amongst the mundane, ordinary and some would say “ overrated “ indistinguishable images there are some real gems and Winogrand continues to be an influential photographer.  In terms of photographic history he began when the traditional photographic practise was being challenged. It was the right time and New York the right place to be. In this respect I feel Winogrand was a photographer of his time, when street photography was far less challenged both aesthetically and morally than it is now. Certainly Winogrand is well known for evading discussion over the meaning of his own work, even denying its existence but inevitably there is meaning given to the image by the viewer. Winogrand was at heart pessimistic about the world. If he chose from his contact sheets those images which, as Paul Hill asserts “the specific motifs that can act as vehicles for your inner feelings” and   “In that sense all photographs are to some extent self portraits, whether you directly include yourself or not” then Winogrand’s images are very much autobiographical and in that sense pessimistic, whether he cared to admit it or not.

Bibliography

Books 

Harris Alex, Friedlander Lee (2004) Arrivals and Departures: The Airport Pictures of Garry Winogrand, Germany. Steidl 

Szarkowski John (1988) Winogrand Figments from the Real World, New York The Museum of Modern Art

Papageorge Tod (1977) Garry Winogrand Public Relations. New York The Museum of Modern Art 

Parr Martin & Badger Gerry (2004) The Photobook: A History volume 1, London, Phaidon Press Ltd 

Turner Peter. (1985) American Images – Photography 1945 – 1980. London, Penguin Books. 

Green Jonathan (1984) A Critical History American Photography. New York. Harry N Abrams Inc. 

Dyer Geoff (2005) The Ongoing Moment (2006 Edition) London, Abacus 

Malcolm Janet (1977) Diana & Nikon Essays on Photography Expanded Edition. New York. Aperture.    

Sontag Susan (1977) On Photography London. Penguin 

Barthes Roland (1980) Camera Lucida, London, Vintage 

Hill Paul (1982) Approaching Photography (Second Edition) Lewes. Photographers Institute Press

La Grange Ashley (2005) Basic Critical Theory for Photographers, Oxford, Focal Press

Barrett Terry ( 2006) Criticizing Photographs An Introduction to Undertanding Images ( Fourth Edition). New York Mc Graw Hill 

Wells Liz (2004) Photography: A Critical Introduction (Third Edition)  

Journals / Articles 

Rubinstein Raphael (2002) Snap Judgements: Exploring the Winogrand Archive, Art in America V90 No2 p46 -51 

Grass Jozef (1991) Overrated images? British Journal of Photography v138 p57 

Web Resources 

Courtemanche Jeanne (2001) The Garry Winogrand Game of Photography Two Part Exhibition culled from CCP’s Vast Archive, Garry Winogrand Press Release, http://www.creativephotography.org/information/pressreleases. 

Kuspit Donald (2003) Avedon versus Winogrand, Art New England 24 no2.

McLaren Fiona (2002) Game Over? Garry Winogrand’s Game of Photography, Afterimage; Jan2002, Vol. 29 Issue 4

LINKS

To Learn & See More Visit Andy Greaves

And Follow Him On INSTAGRAM

Read Andy Greaves Interview

To Our Knowledge, ⁠Winogrand’s estate is managed by institutions like the Fraenkel Gallery

The post Gary Winogrand Photographer appeared first on Street Photography.

My first Camera was a Russian Lubitel Medium format Camera. I think it was 6 X 6 format. My Father wouldn’t buy me an Olympus OM1 which was and still is a 35mm Camera. This was way back in the 70’s! He came home with a Manual Medium format Camera & Said, See if you can Take a good picture with the sCamera first! Learn on this one! So I loved the fils & walked out of the house taking pictures in teh streets. I was only about 16 years old & had NO IDEA that a Street Photography Genre existed. Just walked around on the streets. I wish I still had some of the images I took other than one Surviving Portrait on a Black & White Negative. 

Using a medium format camera for Street Photography is unconventional but not unheard of  and it comes with both unique strengths and real limitations. After all, The Oldest surviving Social Documentary photographs shot on the streets, Street Photography , were ALL shot on Massive Medium or Large format cameras. 35mm Did NOT even exist and The Invention of 35mm Film camera, gradually put an end to that, the same as the Digital invasion diminished Film Photography.

In general, Medium format Film Cameras (And Now median format Digital) offer Incredible image quality, High resolution, Great dynamic range and great for large prints, Billboards, Advertising or detailed edits. They Look and feel different & distinct. Medium format feels cinematic and rich especially on Film. It’s a more Deliberate shooting. It Slows you down, which can lead to more thoughtful compositions.

The Are however, Bulky, noticeable and heavy which is not ideal for being discreet or quick Street Photography. 

They are also, in General, More expensive camera bodies & lenses & thus not practical for everyone.

They Cant beat say , iPhones in Speed, Canon or Nikons in AF Speed & definitely demand a KNOW HOW & they are NOT for the faint hearted Street Photographer.

Copyright ⓒ Johnny Mobasher

Copyright ⓒ Johnny Mobasher

Who mostly used them?

Perhaps, Fashion & Portrait photographers. Photographers like Platon, Avedon and Leibovitz who used Medium format Digital Systems for Fashion and portraits. 

The Famous Photographers did use medium format cameras for street photography, Social Documentary & photo journalism though not quite the same Genre but still on the streets. 

Here are a few famous photographers who used “Medium Format Cameras” for street, candid or documentary style photography:  

Vivian Maier, Rolleiflex TLR 6 X 6, Who took intimate Street Portraits & urban life. 

Diane Arbus  with a Rolleiflex who took Candid & posed portraits in public and semi-public spaces though Not classic “Street Photography” in motion, but public-life photography with a medium format.

The Great Mark Cohen with a Mamiya 6, Close-up, flash-heavy, surreal fragments of street life whoo created the very influential & unusual and bold images.

Mary Ellen Mark who Used medium format for environmental portraits and documentary work often shot on the street.

Alec Soth, Uses medium format ( Mamiya 7 or MF digital) for quiet, often candid scenes in public or semi-public space. More documentary than street Photography, but overlaps exist.

The Unique Weegee, whose real name was Arthur Fellig, primarily used a 4×5 Speed Graphic Press camera with a Flash Bulb for his iconic Black and white New York City street photography. Weegee captured dramatic, high-contrast images of crime scenes, nightlife, and everyday life in the city

Medium format has a slower rhythm, so those who used it for “Street Photography” often engage in Street Portraiture, Environmental and Urban scenes ( Not Quite Street Photography ), or Staged Candid Looking moments* — more reflective than reactive.

Bottom line Medium format in street photography is about “intentional, high-quality storytelling”, not fast, reactive moments. Great if you know why you’re using it — not just for gear sake.

& these days, NOTHINg Beats the speed & flexibility of high ends Cell Phones & High End Digital Cameras. 

To see More, Check out Weegee , Vivian Maier & MarK Cohen 

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“GOOD” Street Photography?!

The ‘Good’ Photographs of American Photography by: Michiel van Mens (Amsterdam/Netherlands)

As a photographer trying to grow, I often ask myself:  What makes a photo good?  And more specifically: Is there a logic—a ratio—behind a good photo? In other words, what gives a photograph its strength, and can that knowledge be reproduced? It’s a broad question, much like asking, ‘What makes a painting good?’ But however broad, it’s a valid question. Asking it is already a step toward answering it. In this article, I offer an initial exploration—based on data analysis.

Now, it’s not as though people haven’t tried to define what a “good photo” is. Plenty of essays and articles tackle this very subject. There are countless books—especially photography textbooks—that focus on technique, composition, and light. These writings often offer valuable insights into the craft of photography.

But here’s the twist: In the real world, we constantly come across examples that seem to break all those rules. I’ve seen iconic, world-famous photographs that are completely out of focus, have no formal composition, feature tilted horizons, or awkwardly cropped subjects. And yet—somehow—they work.

So, what is a useful way to identify a “good” photograph?  One of the few photographers who makes a clear statement about this is Nan Goldin. Her definition is disarmingly simple: “A good photo is one you remember.”

“Photographing as a Necessity”, Nan Goldin, page 31 of “The Loving Camera, Ed van der Elsken”, catalogue published on the occasion of the exhibition at the Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam, 2017.

What’s great about that definition is that it offers a degree of objectivity—and it’s testable. Go to a photo exhibition, take your time looking at every image, then the next day write down which ones you still remember. Now imagine all other visitors did the same. If you gather all those memories, you’d start to see a pattern. According to Goldin’s logic, the photos most often remembered are the good ones. The rest? Maybe not so good.

American Photography

To answer my question ‘what makes a photo good?’, I’ve received unexpected help from the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam (Netherlands). Earlier this year, the museum hosted the exhibition ‘American Photography’ (February 7 to June 9, 2025). The show featured over 200 prints, images, and publications, offering a sweeping visual history of American photography and image culture. Visitors were presented with everything from news and advertising photos to family snapshots, posters, photobooks, album covers, and iconic magazine spreads.

But it wasn’t the exhibition itself that pushed my thinking forward—it was the visitor survey at the end. One of the first questions asked was: “Which photo do you still remember?” That question struck me. It aligns almost perfectly with Nan Goldin’s description of a good photograph: “A good photo is one you remember.”

Some might argue that this survey can’t really tell us which photos are “better”—after all, the exhibition included a wide range of genres, from documentary and fashion to commercial work and vintage printing techniques. How do you compare those apples and oranges?

But is that a fair critique? Genre itself is an organizing tool, not a natural law. And who’s to say that photos from different genres should be interpreted differently? Why wouldn’t a photo of a red mountain in Monument Valley, captioned “This is not a commercial, this is my homeland” by Hulleah Tsinhahjinnie, leave just as strong an impression as Will Counts’ iconic photo of Elizabeth Eckford walking alone toward Little Rock Central High School? And don’t the provocative fashion shoots by Oliviero Toscani (not featured in this show) live just as vividly in our cultural memory as many World Press Photo winners?

Perhaps we should stop trying to decide what’s “good” based on genre, fame, or tradition—and instead, let the hard data speak for itself.

The Dataset

The Rijksmuseum provided a dataset of 900 visitors who completed the exhibition survey. By analyzing their responses, I was able to identify the top 10 most frequently remembered photographs—essentially, the “good” ones, if we follow Nan Goldin’s logic. From there, it becomes possible to compare those standout images and look for patterns they might share.

The dataset itself consists of a single column containing open-ended responses to the question: “Which photo do you still remember?” Participants were free to answer however they liked—no restrictions on language, length, or word choice. There’s no demographic data linked to the responses—we don’t know the respondents’ ages, genders, countries of origin, education levels, or their general interest in photography.

To analyze the data meaningfully, I had to process it further. I added extra columns to the dataset, tagging each response with identifiable characteristics pulled from the original free text.

The difficulty of interpreting the photographer or image from the responses varied widely. A clear description like “Marriage photo of a war veteran (Iraq War)” could be immediately linked to Nina Berman. But something more vague, like “Photo of a woman on a pincushion, and the surrounding images” was far harder to pinpoint. Some responses didn’t mention a photo at all—comments like “More the overall setup of the exhibition,” or “Quite frankly, nothing.” These were categorized under the label “General.”

Others mentioned more than one image, for example: “The dark photo of the Underground Railroad and the old photo of an Indigenous person.” These were tagged with the label “Multiple.” Despite the interpretive challenges, this kind of open-ended data offers a fascinating window into how people engage with photography—what lingers in memory, and why.

Top 10 “Good” Photos

The most frequently remembered photo in the survey was by Nina Berman:  “Marine Wedding” – the wedding day of U.S. Marine Tyler Ziegel and Renee Kline in Metamora, Illinois, October 7, 2006.

Out of the 771 respondents who mentioned a specific photo or photographer, this image was recalled 122 times—about 16% of the total. That’s a striking lead. The second- and third-most remembered images were mentioned only 51 and 41 times, respectively—a significant drop-off, and a strong indicator of just how deeply Berman’s photo resonated with viewers.

Below are The List of The Top 10 ‘good’ photos from the exhibition The American:

The post The ‘Good’ Photographs of American Photography appeared first on Street Photography.

In Part One of this series, we explored the central ethical tensions that complicate contemporary street photography. Part Two examined three prominent ethical frameworks—utilitarian, deontological, and relational—that might help photographers navigate these tensions with greater thoughtfulness. Now, in this final installment, we turn toward a more practical question: where can one begin when trying to build a mindful, ethical street photography practice? This will not be a prescriptive or one-size-fits-all model. Every photographer, every subject, and every street corner exists within its own constellation of context. But what follows can serve as a launching point—a philosophical and practical orientation—for those seeking to engage their craft with greater integrity.

As discussed previously, each ethical framework offers valuable insights, but also notable limitations. Utilitarian reasoning may help us consider outcomes, but it can easily slide into justifying harm in the name of artistic or journalistic value. Deontological ethics urge us to respect individuals’ rights, but can be rigid or impractical on the fly. The relational framework, ultimately, seems to offer the most promise. It invites the photographer to stay attuned to the particularities of each situation—emphasizing empathy, responsiveness, and respect. Yet this approach requires a high degree of self-awareness and reflective maturity. No framework alone will suffice. Even a combination of all three can result in ethical overload or paralysis. Instead, what we must cultivate is something more embodied: a personal photographic practice grounded in ethical integrity.

This means thinking proactively, not just reactively. Don’t ask only, “What should I avoid doing?” Ask instead, “What kind of photographer do I want to be?” Imagine your subject seeing your photo—what do you hope they feel? How would you want to be seen if roles were reversed? These are not abstract moral exercises; they are questions that open relational space and reframe ethics not as restriction but as inspiration. Ethics should not be the force that holds you back from your vision; it should illuminate the path toward it.

Copyright ⓒ Michael Ernest Sweet

Perhaps it’s time to rethink the role of the street photographer. Rather than imagining yourself as a hunter, consider the stance of a steward. You are not taking photographs—you are making them. And with that creative act comes responsibility. You are responsible not only for how your subjects are represented, but for the life of the image itself—how it circulates, how it is interpreted, how it shapes narratives. Your obligation is not merely aesthetic; it is ethical. You must safeguard the dignity of your subjects and the contextual integrity of the photograph. In a time when social media can strip images of nuance and amplify spectacle, your task is not to chase virality but to curate vitality—to participate in a visual culture that honors reality rather than exploits it. This may be more difficult than it sounds.

As an ethical street photographer, you will likely find yourself “making” more than “taking.” You will be less tempted by decontextualized shock and more drawn to narrative depth. You will pause before you post. You will caption with care. You will consider framing not just in the compositional sense, but in the broader sense of cultural meaning. You will resist the instinct to shoot and share reflexively, and instead commit to sharing with intention. You will think about the legacy of your work and not the overnight “likes” count.

In closing, the ethical path in street photography is not a checklist but a commitment—a way of moving through the world with your camera as both witness and participant. It asks you to remain alert to the lives unfolding around you, to see your subjects not as material to be mined, but as people to be met. It does not call for perfection, but for presence and intention. Your photographs may capture fleeting instants, but your practice, at its best, can embody lasting values. Meet your subjects with curiosity. Portray them with care. Release your images with accountability. This is the foundation of a photographic life rooted not only in artistic merit, but in moral depth.

Consider the photographers and bodies of work that have endured—the ones that still speak, still move, still matter. Often, their resonance stems not only from visual brilliance but from a way of seeing that was fundamentally ethical: observant, humane, and attuned to the complexity of real lives. Of course, exceptions exist—compelling art has sometimes emerged from questionable motives, and ethically sound work can be overlooked. But these are the outliers. What endures most often is work that honors both its subjects and its viewers. In the end, cultivating an ethical practice is not a constraint on creativity—it is what gives your images the clarity and gravity to carry meaning well beyond the moment of their making.

To See More of Michael Ernest Sweet, Click On His Gallery 

The post The Ethics of Street Photography – Part 3 appeared first on Street Photography.

As we discussed in Part 1, street photography is fraught with ethical tensions. Should we always ask permission before taking someone’s photograph? Is obtaining consent inherently the “right” thing to do? Do individuals have a right to privacy while in public? And what about the way people—and their candid moments—are ultimately represented or misrepresented in images? Do we, as street photographers, bear responsibility for how our subjects appear? These are important questions, and they only scratch the surface.

In this second part of my three-part series on the ethics of street photography, I explore three ethical frameworks—utilitarian, deontological, and relational—to see how they might guide us toward greater ethical awareness and inform our practice as street photographers.

Utilitarian Ethics: The Greater Good

A utilitarian approach to ethics holds, in its simplest form, that ethical actions are those which maximize happiness or minimize harm. If a photograph has the potential to inspire positive action or educate the public, then the benefits may outweigh the costs—even if consent is not obtained.

Documentary photography, which often overlaps with street photography, frequently operates on this premise. Seeking consent might be impractical or even impossible in certain situations, and doing so could hinder the production of work that serves the public interest. Consider, for instance, images that document poverty, injustice, or public protest—photographs that can galvanize social awareness and political change. From a utilitarian perspective, the value of these images may override the discomfort or lack of consent of individual subjects.

However, this stance is not without problems. Who decides what constitutes the “greater good,” and by what criteria? Utilitarianism also risks treating subjects as means to an end, which can lead to objectification or dehumanization as a result of the inherent abstraction. The photographer’s pursuit of a noble cause can unintentionally override the dignity of the individual.

Deontological Ethics: Rights and Duties

Deontological ethics, by contrast, emphasizes moral rules and duties over consequences. In this view, actions are right or wrong based on principles such as respect for persons and individual rights—not the outcomes they produce. A deontologist might argue that people have an inviolable right to privacy and autonomy, and that these rights must not be breached even for the sake of a greater good.

Copyright ⓒ Sally Davies

This can lead to a strict position: one should always seek consent before taking a photograph, regardless of context. While this approach strongly defends the subject’s rights, it also presents challenges for the genre of candid street photography, which depends on spontaneity and often unfolds in fleeting, unrepeatable moments.

Moreover, what about the rights of the photographer? Artistic freedom and freedom of expression are also important values. Where do these rights intersect—or conflict—with the rights of subjects? And in urgent, documentary contexts, can ethical reflection keep pace with unfolding events? The camera can be a vital witness to history, and sometimes the opportunity to record may vanish in the time it takes to ask permission.

Relational Ethics: Context, Care, and Connection

A third approach, relational ethics, suggests that ethical understanding arises from the nature of relationships rather than from abstract rules or calculations of outcomes. This perspective urges photographers to consider the connection—however brief or even nonverbal—between themselves and their subjects.

In this framework, a kind of tacit consent may emerge through shared space, mutual acknowledgment, or body language, all without necessarily breaking the candid quality of the moment. Think of the work of Vivian Maier, whose photographs often convey a subtle, unspoken intimacy.

Copyright ⓒ Sally Davies

Relational ethics encourages the photographer to remain attentive to vulnerability, empathy, and the potential impact of representation. Yet, this approach also carries risks. The idea of a “felt” connection can be easily imagined or misinterpreted, especially if the photographer is inclined to rationalize their choices. Without rigorous self-awareness, one might invoke “relationship” as a post-hoc justification for ethically dubious decisions.

Because relational ethics operates in shades of grey, it requires a high degree of humility, mindfulness, and ongoing reflection. It resists fixed rules and demands that we stay present to the unique dynamics of each encounter.

Toward an Ethical Practice

Perhaps the path to a more thoughtful and ethical street photography practice involves drawing on different frameworks in different situations. Maybe no single model is sufficient on its own.

As I prepare to conclude this series with a proposal for a more ethically grounded approach to street photography, I’d love to hear from you: How do you navigate these ethical challenges? What informs your practice?

Log on and comment below—let’s keep the conversation going.

Photos Curteosy of Sally Davies , Visit & Follow Sally on Instagram

The post The Ethics of Street Photography – Part 2 appeared first on Street Photography.

Many of us are familiar—whether by name or merely by sight—with Henri Cartier-Bresson’s photograph On the Banks of the Marne, France. In it, a group of mature men and women recline beside the river; in the foreground, one man pours wine as a picnic unfolds. A boat drifts lazily on the Marne in the background. Most viewers would count four adults participating in the scene. I would argue there are five, and possibly even six.

The fifth is the photographer. Not merely an observer, he is, in a sense, a participant—though uninvited. His presence is felt through the frame he composed, yet that presence was unacknowledged at the time, as any explicit consent would have disrupted the spontaneity that defines the image. The sixth guest is us: the viewer. We, too, arrive uninvited, and although our intrusion occurs after the fact, it remains an intrusion nonetheless. This photograph is iconic. But is it ethical? Are these two unseen guests—the photographer and the audience—standing on firm ethical ground?

The moment one begins to discuss street photography, one almost inevitably drifts into the fraught waters of ethics. At its core, street photography is concerned with the candid: a moment unposed, unrehearsed, and unguarded. By its very nature, the candid implies an asymmetry—one party (the photographer) is fully aware of what is unfolding, while the other (the subject) is entirely unaware. Power, in such encounters, rests heavily with the photographer. The subject, no matter how briefly, occupies a position of vulnerability, and perhaps even one of exploitation.

Of course, there is no shortage of posed and consensual images in the world—many of them excellent. But they rarely possess the same visceral immediacy or narrative power that a truly candid photograph offers. We, as the sixth person at the picnic, feel immersed not simply because the image is beautiful, but because the subjects do not acknowledge our gaze. They do not break the fourth wall. They do not ruin our voyeurism. This is the peculiar allure of the unposed—it grants us license to witness without participation.

But how troubling can this really be? After all, Robert Frank, William Klein, Vivian Maier, Garry Winogrand, Diane Arbus—weren’t they all doing the same thing? And haven’t they been rightly celebrated for creating some of the most significant images of the twentieth century? That may be true, but it does not necessarily follow that their methods were ethically sound. Nor does it mean that they themselves considered the ethical implications of their practice. I’ve been photographing candid moments on the street for well over a decade—and only now do I find myself seriously reflecting on the moral dimensions of what I’ve been doing.

Copyright ⓒ Michael Ernest Sweet

It is often argued that public space is just that—public. Isn’t it therefore legal to photograph people in it? In the United States, this is largely correct: photographing individuals in public, without their consent, is generally legal—with a few clear exceptions. In other countries, however, the boundaries differ. France, for instance, may permit the taking of such photographs, but imposes significant restrictions on how they may be used or disseminated. In short, the legal question is jurisdiction-dependent and complicated. But legality is not our concern here. Ethics and legality, though often conflated, are not synonymous.

So, what is ethics? Before we continue, it is worth attempting—however briefly—to frame the concept. Ethics resists simple definition; it is a philosophical construct that quickly becomes opaque. A more practical approach may be to offer a set of associative terms: integrity, responsibility, conscience, fairness, value, principle, honesty, choice, and moral judgment. These words may help you begin to formulate your own ethical framework—one that can guide your approach to photography.

When we weigh these terms seriously, we can begin to interrogate our practice with greater care. Our questions must go beyond what rights we possess as photographers. We must also ask: what responsibilities do we bear? This is the terrain where the most difficult and illuminating dilemmas reside—where public space collides with private moments, where documentary value teeters on the edge of exploitation.

From these broader tensions emerge even more nuanced concerns. Consider, for instance, the dilemma of contextual integrity in the age of global image sharing. A candid photograph may feel ethically sound within the confines of a larger body of work—a considered visual essay or thematic exploration. But what happens when that same image escapes its context, circulates online, and takes on a life of its own? What if the subject, once anonymous, is suddenly identified or ridiculed—or simply turned into a meme?

These are the kinds of questions we will continue to explore in this three-part series on the ethics of street photography. In the next instalment, we’ll examine how different ethical frameworks—utilitarian, deontological, relational—might guide or complicate our decisions as photographers.

Stay tuned!

The post The Ethics of Street Photography – Part 1 appeared first on Street Photography.

A common observation.

Smartphones have made Street Photography incredibly accessible. With a decent camera in everyone’s pocket, it’s easy to snap candid moments in public spaces — which is essentially the core of Street Photography. So people naturally feel like they’re participating in the genre.

But here’s the key difference: “Street Photography isn’t just about taking photos in the Street” It’s about:

– Timing

– Composition

– Storytelling

– Awareness of light, emotion, and context

Many smartphone users take spontaneous or aesthetic photos, but not all are “Intentionally” practicing or studying the craft of Street Photography. So while many *do* Street Photography, few truly develop a unique vision or master the genre.

In short: Accessibility Breeds Volume, but not necessarily depth or Artistry.

The post Is ANYTHING Shot On The Streets, Street Photography!? appeared first on Street Photography.

Smartphones have fundamentally transformed Street Photography, bringing both significant benefits and notable drawbacks.

The helpful aspects are substantial. Smartphones Democratized Street Photography by making it accessible to millions who couldn’t afford dedicated cameras. The convenience factor is enormous – you always have a capable camera in your pocket, ready to capture spontaneous moments that define great Street Photography. 

Modern smartphone cameras produce genuinely impressive image quality, especially in good light, and computational photography features like HDR help handle challenging lighting situations common in urban environments.

Perhaps most importantly, smartphones are inconspicuous. People are so accustomed to seeing phones that photographers can work more naturally without drawing attention or making subjects self-conscious. This invisibility often leads to more authentic, candid moments.

However, there are meaningful limitations. Average Smartphone sensors are physically small, which means they can struggle in low light situations that street photographers often encounter – think subway stations, evening scenes, or shadowy urban spaces. If a Zoom is your preferred type of lens, The digital zoom on most phones produces inferior results compared to optical zoom lenses, limiting compositional flexibility.

The ease of smartphone photography has also led to over-saturation. Social media is flooded with casual street photos, making it harder for truly skilled work to stand out. Some argue this has diluted the artistic value and intentionality that characterised earlier Street Photography.

The reality is nuanced. Many accomplished Street Photographers now use smartphones alongside traditional cameras, choosing the right tool for each situation. The instant sharing capabilities have created new forms of documentary photography and real-time storytelling that weren’t possible before.

Rather than simply helping or damaging the genre, smartphones have evolved Street Photography into something different – more immediate, more accessible, but perhaps requiring even greater skill to create images that rise above the flood of everyday documentation.

At The end, You have to have the eye & instinct of anticipation. Smart Phones don’t give you The Talent but they Do give you speed.

The post Are smart phones Good or Bad for Street Photography? appeared first on Street Photography.

Author: Drs. M.A. van Mens, Amsterdam/Netherlands

This article explores street photography and the concept of a “photographic signature” through systematic research on monographs. The author identifies six key stylistic characteristics that define a street photographer’s work: distance, influence, layering, use of daylight, subject choice, and presentation. By analyzing the work of renowned street photographers, the study reveals that their distinctiveness stems from innovative approaches within these elements.

The research involved an extensive literature review, interviews with experts, and an analysis of photography archives. The findings show that street photographers make deliberate choices regarding these six characteristics, shaping their artistic identity. For example, photographers like William Klein engage directly with subjects, while Cartier-Bresson remains an unnoticed observer. Similarly, the use of light, framing techniques, and thematic contrasts all contribute to a photographer’s unique style.

The article argues that by understanding and consciously adjusting these six characteristics, photographers can refine their own style. The study also highlights that most famous street photographers were not just image-makers but obsessive collectors who continuously innovated within one or more stylistic aspects. This framework provides a structured approach for both amateur and professional photographers to analyze and develop their photographic voice.

 This article focuses on street photography and presents the findings of my research into how street photographers have documented life in the ‘Urban Village.’ By systematically observing monographs, I aimed to analyze their body of work for distinctive characteristics. Ultimately, I identified six stylistic features. The choices a street photographer makes regarding these six stylistic features are what I refer to as their ‘photographic signature.’ The work of renowned street photographers stands out because they have introduced something new within one of these six stylistic features. 

“The question I wanted to answer was not: What makes a photo beautiful, good, or enjoyable? Nor was it: What is the composition of one famous photo? Instead, I asked: If I line up all the photos by a specific street photographer and analyze them, what do they have in common? Over time, I began to see patterns. These eventually led to the six style elements.” Based on this research, the author makes a promise: by becoming aware of these six stylistic characteristics, you can improve your own photographic signature. “You can think of your photographic signature as a mixing console with six sliders, each positioned in a certain way. If you change the combination, you create a different photographic image. The clearer the choices of the street photographer, the more visible their personal signature becomes.”

Copyright ⓒ Saul Leiter Foundation Boy c. 1960

It’s not common to describe a street photographer’s work using one or more “measurable” variables, as if a creative process could be explained with a mathematical formula. Most people prefer to talk about creativity in terms of originality and personal growth.

Maybe it’s because painting is much older than photography that we are used to talking about painters in terms of style. Famous painters often have a recognizable way of working. Rembrandt, for example, became famous for the way he painted light. That’s also true for Johannes Vermeer, although the light in Rembrandt’s paintings is different from Vermeer’s.

What I notice is this: the more famous a painter is, the easier people can recognize their work. Ask a random tourist in Amsterdam to describe Vincent van Gogh’s style, and they might say: he painted wet-on-wet, used thick layers of paint, short expressive brushstrokes, bright bold colors, and showed a world that wasn’t realistic. People can describe Picasso or Monet’s work in a similar way.

I think the opposite is also true: lesser-known painters may make beautiful work, but their style is harder to describe in just a few clear points.

This made me wonder if the same is true for photographers—especially street photographers. Big names like Saul Leiter, William Klein, William Eggleston, and Vivian Maier all created impressive and very recognizable work. If you walk into a room full of photos and see one by Saul Leiter, you’ll likely recognize it right away. He developed a strong personal style. Because of that, many people want to take photos in his style. The same goes for William Klein, Cartier-Bresson, or Joel Meyerowitz—true legends of street photography.

To answer these questions, I conducted an in-depth literature review, studying (academic) journals such as The British Journal of Photography and The History of Photography, as well as online publications. I also interviewed scholars, teachers from art and photography academies, and professional photographers. Surprisingly, I found very little about street photography. Most academic writing consisted of essays and descriptive texts about individual photographers. So, there was only one option left: to conduct my own research.

I decided to analyze the work of as many street photographers as possible, looking for common patterns. To access photographic archives, I used the “photography library,” an online database from six Dutch institutions, including FOAM, Huis Marseille, and the National Photography Museum in Rotterdam. I also consulted the Special Collections at Leiden University Library and the Rijksmuseum Library in Amsterdam.

This database allows searches by genre and publication type (monograph, article, catalog, etc.). A search for street photography combined with monograph resulted in over 860 entries. Each week, a librarian at FOAM prepared a selection of monographs for me to review in a quiet spot at the museum.

But then, what next? I believe research starts with asking questions, observing, forming hypotheses, counting, comparing, and writing down findings.

Contrast in Distance

After reviewing multiple monographs from different photographers, I began to recognize similarities. The first thing that stood out to me was the physical distance a photographer maintains from their subject, usually people in public spaces. Distance is something that can be easily measured and compared. Some street photographers are very close to their subjects, while others shoot from afar. If you compare William Klein to Thomas Struth, the difference is immediately apparent. There are also photographers who fall somewhere in between. Ed van der Elsken, for example, generally kept a bit more distance. As a result, his photos not only capture people but also more of their surroundings.

Contrast in Influence

A second stylistic characteristic is the extent to which the street photographer influences the image. Photographers like William Klein and Ed van der Elsken stood out because the people they photographed often reacted to them. This made the photographer a part of the photo, even if they were not physically in the frame. They directed the scene they wanted to capture or provoked a reaction.

For Cartier-Bresson, this was unthinkable. Like photographers Alfred Herzog, Helen Levitt, and Saul Leiter, he preferred to remain in the background, observing as a ‘fly on the wall.’ Does this relate to their personalities? Perhaps. Cartier-Bresson was described as introverted and shy, whereas Ed van der Elsken was social, loud, and assertive. He preferred to orchestrate the ‘decisive moment’ rather than simply wait for it to happen.

Contrast in Layering 

When searching for stylistic characteristics in street photography, I was inspired by the techniques of 17th-century painters like Vermeer and Gerard Dou. These painters often used a technique called ‘repoussoir’, where an object in the foreground—such as a curtain, table, or plant—partially obstructs the view and directs the viewer’s gaze. In Vermeer’s paintings, this creates the impression that you, as the observer, are peeking into someone’s world.

This layering technique is also present in street photography. A street photo can typically be divided into three layers: the foreground, the subject in the middle ground, and the background. In Lee Friedlander’s photographs, there is almost always something ‘obstructive’ in the foreground—such as a pole, a telephone booth, or a shop window. Why doesn’t he just take a few steps forward to remove the obstruction? Because, according to Friedlander, the world is inherently chaotic and complex. He deliberately uses this extra layering as a stylistic feature.

This approach contrasts sharply with the style of Cartier-Bresson, where the composition is always a balance between the middle and background layers. He sought geometric shapes in the background and waited for something to happen in the middle. For Fred Herzog, on the other hand, the background often plays the leading role.

How a photographer handles these layers within an image is an important stylistic characteristic.

Copyright ⓒ Saul Leiter Foundation Untitled 1960

Contrast in the Use of Daylight

A common saying is that photography is painting with light. But how did 17th-century painters work with daylight? And can their approach help categorize street photographers based on their use of light?

One of the most famous cityscapes where light is crucial is ‘View of Delft’ by the painter Vermeer. The viewer sees an old city in spring, just after a rain shower, with the morning sun shining through scattered clouds. The way Vermeer painted the daylight is what makes this painting so famous. It would never have gained the same reputation if Vermeer had depicted it raining, covered in gray clouds, or during midday in summer, with a bright blue sky and harsh sunlight casting strong shadows.

While analyzing street photographers, I noticed they handle daylight in very different ways. For Alex Webb, harsh sunlight and deep shadows are essential to creating the intense colors in his photographs. But not everyone works this way. Take Vivian Maier and Helen Levitt, for example. Both were female photographers, lived in New York for a long time, shot in color, and walked the streets during the same period. Yet, their photos are completely different.

Helen Levitt typically places her subjects in the shade, with sunlight appearing only at the far end of the street. Vivian Maier does the opposite—her subjects stand fully in the sun while the shadows stretch across the street. As a result, the colors in Maier’s images pop, while Levitt’s colors appear muted and flat. Cartier-Bresson worked similarly to Levitt, preferring soft daylight with minimal shadows.

This approach is in stark contrast to younger photographers like Robert Frank, William Klein, and Ed van der Elsken. They experimented with light sensitivity and intentionally reduced the number of gray tones in their images. The way street photographers use daylight turns out to be a key stylistic characteristic, one that helps distinguish and categorize their work.

Contrast in subject choice

A fifth stylistic characteristic is the way photographers develop a preference for the subjects they capture. The street as a stage, where the photographer seeks out contrasts that evoke emotions in the viewer. The greater the tension created by the contrast, the stronger the emotional response a photo elicits. Conversely, when there is no contradiction, a sense of indifference emerges—the viewer looks, shrugs, and moves on.

As a (street) photographer, being aware of the significance of visual contrasts in subject choice allows you to actively seek them out. After analyzing numerous photography books, I identified five types of commonly occurring contrasts.

1.     The first is thematic contrast, which can be seen in the work of Ed van der Elsken. He plays with opposites such as rich vs. poor, young vs. old, big vs. small, life vs. death, or love vs. sorrow.

2.     The second is contrast through color, similar to the later works of painter Piet Mondrian. Photographers like Saul Leiter and Fred Herzog use color blocks as the actual subject of their images. In Saul Leiter’s color photography, the subject is often merely suggested and secondary to the color composition.

3.     The third is contrast in action, as seen in the work of Joel Meyerowitz. He frequently photographs people on the street making opposite gestures or movements, creating a visual dialogue between subjects.

4.     The fourth is contrast in time, a technique made famous by Cartier-Bresson. His images appear to freeze time at precisely the right moment, suggesting movement while capturing a fleeting, almost suspended reality. It feels as if the world is frozen for a fraction of a second.

5.     The fifth type is ‘the “curious mine-yours’ contrast. The image presents a world that differs from what the viewer perceives as “normal,” creating tension between the viewer’s reality and that of the photographed subject. Examples include Diane Arbus’ portraits of so-called “outsiders” or Nan Goldin’s intimate bedroom scenes (though neither is strictly street photography). Curiosity can also arise from how a subject is photographed—such as the two rebellious youths on ‘De Nieuwendijk’ (Amsterdam) captured by Ed van der Elsken—or from a glimpse into a world that no longer exists.

Contrast in Presentation 

The sixth and final stylistic characteristic is how the street photographer wants us to view their work. As an image-maker, Stephen Shore is a clear example of someone who experimented with presentation and took a new approach. He had his analog films developed and printed at a local print shop, selected images, and pinned them in three long rows on the wall of MoMA (Museum of Modern Art, New York). This created a repetitive pattern of images, where the individual photo became less important, and the entire sequence took center stage. This approach is also evident in his photobooks: four images placed side by side on two white pages, all the same size and aligned at the same height, page after page.

William Klein and Ed van der Elsken also sought new ways to present their work. They introduced black pages as backgrounds, handwritten text to support the narrative, and multiple images stacked on a single page as photographic sequences. Techniques like cropping, burning, and dodging became tools to enhance dramatic effects. Since then, photographers have continuously explored ways to amplify the impact of their photos.

This stands in stark contrast to photographers like Cartier-Bresson and Diane Arbus, who insisted that their photographs be printed with perfect tonal gradation and a black border, ensuring that the entire image, exactly as originally seen by the photographer, was displayed. These prints were then mounted in a white passe-partout and framed in wood, hung against a white gallery wall. For them, everything revolved around the individual photograph and the singular story it told.

The difference from Stephen Shore’s presentation could not be greater. Since then, how a photographer presents their work has become an essential part of their artistic approach and photographic signature.

Copyright ⓒ Saul Leiter Foundation Taxi 1957

The Signature of Famous Street Photographers 

My research consisted of two phases. In the first phase, I searched for stylistic characteristics that were clear and objectively recognizable. In the second phase, I selected 15 well-known street photographers who were active between World War II and the year 2000. A key requirement was that they had published one or more monographs that they had personally approved. I then used these six stylistic characteristics as a “measuring stick” to analyze their work. My goal was to determine whether I could describe each photographer, as I did in my article on Saul Leiter, using these characteristics. Ultimately, I created a profile for all 15 photographers, distilling their style down to one or more identifiable traits. With these six characteristics, it also became possible to create instructions on how to photograph in their style.

Are these six characteristics enough to define a photographic signature? Perhaps, but to truly make a difference, more is needed. An interesting side effect of studying these famous photographers was gaining insight into the person behind the camera. Many of these photographers were not just image-makers but also collectors. Additionally, most of them had an obsessive way of working. They didn’t just collect images—they were constantly immersed in their craft, unaffected by outside opinions.

What truly sets them apart is that they all sought to innovate photographic language in one or more of these six stylistic characteristics. Some did this by distancing themselves from previous photographic conventions, such as Robert Frank, who broke away from Cartier-Bresson’s dogmas. Others experimented with light sensitivity, printing techniques, color usage, subject matter, layering, or presentation.

Insights 

Based on my research, I have come to the following insights:

1. The six stylistic characteristics form a useful model for analyzing and describing the work of street photographers.

2. Every well-known street photographer exhibits all six characteristics to some degree. However, one or a few of these traits are often dominant. This unique combination forms the foundation of a recognizable photographic signature.

Whether you are an amateur or a professional photographer, examining your own work through ‘The Six Stylistic Characteristics of the Photographic Signature’ provides an objective way to evaluate your photos or portfolio. Are you making conscious choices within these characteristics? What can you learn from well-known street photographers? And how can you apply these insights to your own photography?

Research Justification 

This article does not claim to be a scientific publication. It is primarily a report on my personal research. By writing it in accessible language, I hope to reach a broad audience and, in particular, to inform beginner or enthusiastic (street) photographers.

1. I sought advice from (Dutch) experts and lecturers at academies and universities regarding research methodologies and models (though I encountered a significant amount of non-response).

2. I limited my research to all Dutch-language libraries, including museum libraries in Rotterdam, Foam, Huis Marseille, the Leiden University Library (special collections), and the OBA (Amsterdam Public Library).

3. I restricted my sources to the online photo book database and exclusively to monographs of books, published after WO2 and available in the Netherlands.

4. As a research method, I focused solely on observation: examining photo books and identifying/describing patterns.

Appendix: Definitions and Delimitations

For me, street photography is a genre in which the photographer focuses on people or the influence of people in public, urban spaces. This implies that I have classified certain photographers within the street photography genre while excluding others from this study. Many definitions of street photography include terms like ’candid’ and ‘snapshot’. A snapshot is a momentary or quickly taken photo of something or someone. The term ‘candid’ emphasizes that people are unaware that they are being photographed. The literal translation of ‘candid’ is “unposed,” in contrast to classic studio photography, where models are deliberately posed.

However, the history of street photography shows that many street photographers were visibly present in public spaces and actively directed their subjects. The term ‘snapshot’, much like the label ‘Impressionist’ in painting, was originally used by journalists to dismiss the work of photographers like Stephen Shore as amateurish.

Street photography is an unusual ‘genre’ within photography for several reasons. While it can be practiced, it is not a profession one can typically make a living from. Street photographers generally do not have clients—except for a few who occasionally publish in newspapers or magazines. The street photographer works independently, selecting their own subjects and determining how to present their work. Unlike photojournalists or documentary photographers, street photographers are not bound by strict ethical guidelines. Their work is personal and unrestricted, yet distinct from studio photography, as they have little control over the environment in which they operate.

The term ‘street photographer’ only became widely used after the 1970s. Before that, it commonly referred to photographers with an ‘Afghan box camera’—a camera with a built-in darkroom—who took photos of tourists with famous landmarks like the Eiffel Tower or the pyramids in the background. It is understandable that someone like Henri Cartier-Bresson wanted to distance himself from this association. He saw himself as a photojournalist—one who primarily worked in the streets and had a keen eye for people.

Street photography truly became recognized as a genre in the 1970s, largely due to photographers such as Robert Frank, William Klein, and Ed van der Elsken, who gained popularity during that period. Additionally, photography became more affordable, allowing young photographers to take to the streets and capture everyday life. Interestingly, renowned photographer Martin Parr began his career in the original tradition of ‘street photographers’—taking portraits of guests at holiday resorts. Eventually, this work would make him world-famous.

Compiled Profiles and Detailed Style Instructions

1.     Henry Cartier-Bresson (1908-2004)

2.     Robert Frank (1924-2019)

3.     Garry Winnogrand (1928-1984)

4.     Lee Friedlander (1934)

5.     William Eggleston (1939)

6.     Stephen Shore (1947)

7.     Joel Meyerowitz (1938)

8.     Helen levitt (1913-2009)

9.     Vivian Maier (1926-2009)

10.  Ed van der Elsken (1925-1990)

11.  William Klein (1926, 2022)

12.  Martin Parr (1952)

13.  Fred Herzog (1930-2019)

14.  Saul Leiter (1923-2013)

15.  Philip-Lorca diCorcia (1953)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Michiel Van Mens studied at the University of Groningen. After his service, he became active as a street photographer and made several journeys to Poland, the Baltic States, and Ukraine. Inspired by Ed van der Elsken, he began a long-termphoto series in 1993 documenting Amsterdam Oud-West, which led to several exhibitions. During this time, he also attended the Photo Academy in Amsterdam. Meanwhile he worked for many years as a Data Scientist. Michielsearched through databases and translated abstract and complex patterns into everyday reality. With this background, he has gained extensive experience in identifying patterns and connections—whether in databases or within the flat surface of a photograph. Visit & Follow MIchiel Van Mens on Instagram: @michielvanmens

Last But Not Least:

Our Gratitude to The Saul Leiter Foundation for Their Kind & considerate permission & Guidance. 

To learn more about The Great Late Saul Leiter & The Foundation visit The Saul Leiter Foundation

The post The Photographic Signature of the Street Photographer in Six Stylistic Characteristics appeared first on Street Photography.

By Michael Ernest Sweet

I’m sure we have all noticed by now that analog photography is experiencing a real renaissance. I say real because it has turned out not to be a mere blip but a sustained resurgence. Not only are more and more people shooting film but the price of film stock is falling (presumably due to increased demand) and new film cameras are entering the market. All of this seems to be indicating a bright future for film photography in 2024. But the question remains, why is anyone bothering? Film is still really expensive when compared to the “free” frames provided by digital cameras. It is unpredictable, at the best of times, and it limits photographers in really obvious ways – 36 shots per roll. The list goes on: you can’t see “chimp” your shots immediately after taking them (who knows what you got), burst mode approach is unwise (so you will have to rely on single shot luck), and developing and scanning requires a whole other truck load of money. So why bother?

There’s no simple answer to this question. Shooting film is not a silver bullet of any kind. It does not make your photography better by any measure, and I think this question has been long settled. The question is no longer film versus digital. One is not going to “win” over the other. Each has settled into its own different and distinct camp. They are different. But the question of why some photographers are so hell bent on sticking with film remains a bit elusive. In a day and age when you can easily replicate the look of film stock on a computer and sidestep the enormous cost and bother of film, the question of why anyone bothers lingers in the balance. Let’s consider some of the possible motivations.

Aesthetics – Although one can achieve a “film look” using digital filters, one might argue that it does not provide the exact same aesthetics. At the very least, knowing how the photo was made will certainly impact how one views the result. Put another way, knowing you faked it is not the same as knowing you didn’t. When it comes to producing the film aesthetic by digital means, it will always be considered “faking” it or “cheating”, as this is a form of reproduction. Digital means naturally produce digital results – not analog results. All of this to say, if someone really wants to create and appreciate a true analog aesthetic they will need to use analog equipment. It is not simply about how the end results look (whether one can make a photo that tricks its viewer), it is about the authenticity of the entire process. Many street photographers love the look of an analog photograph – with its grain, unique tones and colors, and random flaws – and will never be fully satisfied by achieving these results by way of the digital process.

Copyright ⓒ Michael Ernest Sweet

Copyright ⓒ Michael Ernest Sweet

Copyright ⓒ Michael Ernest Sweet

Gear – Good, old fashioned analog gear is another huge reason why people stick with film. Digital cameras are just not the same experience and, for those of us that grew up with analog cameras, not as much fun! Analog gear is special. Nothing beats a brass camera body and the smooth glide and click of manual controls. Some older cameras, like a Leica M6, for example, may even become family heirlooms. People like to still use this gear, especially if they have a special relationship with the camera. This remains one of the principal reasons why street photographers are still shooting film in 2024. The Leica M6 is still king.

Novelty – I think digital cameras are wearing on people like computers and other things electronic and digital. These things don’t excite us. They tire us. We want breaks from them. We want to use something different. Many people sit behind computers for a living, the last thing they then want to do is go out and shoot with another kind of computer. Face it, digital cameras are another kind of computer and there is no escaping that fact. Analog gear is a novelty, it gives us a kind of break from the digital rat race. A Leica M6 still works today the way it did back in 1984 when it was first released. There’s something very satisfying about that fact!

Experience – Shooting film is a totally different experience from shooting digital. I don’t only mean because it gives us a break from the “digital realm” either. It is different in many, many ways. For example, shooting film requires a more deliberative, contemplative approach. You need to think more carefully about what you are shooting. You may even try harder to make that “perfect” shot, as you know you have limited frames. I believe shooting film is much more meditative. As you cannot see what you shoot, immediately, you also process the scene differently too. One needs to live in their imagination a lot more when shooting film. Next, there is the anticipation while we wait for the film to be developed. What did we get? The editing and post workflow may also be significantly different too, unless we relent to the digital post processing of film, which then begs the question of why bother to shoot analog?

In the end, great photography is a numbers game. The more you shoot the more chance you have of getting that perfect shot. When you shoot with film this reduces the total number of shots you are going to make, unless you are independently wealthy. Shooting with film is just more of a gamble, but that too can be fun! In today’s age of “digital perfection” and artificial intelligence etc., I do believe that it will be hard for analog photography to compete with digital photography when it comes to the “average” viewer. Film photography is and will remain a niche artform. Digital photography simply affords more opportunity to get the shot and more opportunity to turn that shot into a winner!

I think many street photographers are obsessed with film in 2024 because it is different – it affords them a unique experience and a different visual aesthetic. It also allows a whole new generation to play with vintage equipment, like the ever-famous Leica M6. Could you make the shot with your iPhone, yes, absolutely. I don’t think this is any longer an actual debate. Basically, the iPhone can be used for all photography at this point – including professional model shoots for magazine layouts or billboards. No other camera is necessary, but that doesn’t mean that no other camera is desired.

As a frequent judge in photography competitions around the world, I can honestly say that most photographs that place today are digital photographs. It is very hard for analog photography to compete. It’s just not perfect enough. That said, is it worth it to shoot film in 2024? Yes, I think so. I think it is also worth it to play records and write using a typewriter too.

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