“Cameras, they steal your soul, so they do.”
Written by John MacphersonI mentioned previously I might write a little on photographing people and ‘inhibition’ following a comment made to a recent post. This post is also, I guess, a wee bit about perception, and how what you perceive to be the content, and indeed the intent of your images, may not be shared so precisely by your subject. I’ll also add up front that none of the following is any reason not to engage with people to photograph them; quite the contrary, the hard lessons about interaction you learn with a camera in your hand are ones that should make you think more carefully about your work, and perhaps care a little more deeply about your subject. And thats a very good thing in my humble opinion.
I’m a fairly upfront kind of guy. Meeting and photographing people is something I enjoy, and quite often it involves verbally engaging people to conspire with me to create the image. And the responses I get are interesting. So here’s the sort of things that can happen by engaging the public, some predictable, others less so.
I was working on the Isle of Mull for a book publisher gathering material for a small photo book on the island, and pretty much left to my own devices regarding content so long as some specifics were included. I decided that some of the issues that are key to island life should be included, such as seasonal tourism, (un)employment, homelessness etc., if I could manage to find suitable material to illustrate it.
And so I encountered a lovely scene one summer day, which you will need to imagine, because it went unrecorded. Very low tide, acres of exposed dark green and brown seaweed, and in the middle of it, 200m out in the bay was a baby’s pram, brand new bright and shiny. I was astonished, then spotted several dark clad figures bent over double behind the pram gathering shellfish. They had obviously carried their offspring out to be beside them as they worked. This activity, as I am well aware, is a black economy cash-in-hand one. So off I slithered across the greasy slimy rocks and duly arrived, unavoidably noisily, at the group. Introduced myself, explained my work and asked permission to photograph them and baby, and a big bloke responded, but quite friendly, that “well no, I’m not really happy with that mate” , as behind him his male and female companions approached. We had a pleasant enough chat but one of the women was slightly hostile, and despite my highland credentials, accent and acknowledgement of their potential tax-dodge work and assurance that it was only their bottoms bent over with the pram in the foreground I needed to show, she was not happy. So I said “no problems, I’ll leave you to get back to your work then folks, thanks for the blether”. And the woman remarked in a slightly sarcastic tone “cameras, they steal your soul, so they do” and gave me a sly half-smile, knowing that I knew how sarcastic she was being. I smiled and replied jovially, “aye they might, you best keep yours intact then”. And off I went.
The irony was that behind them was a small low island which would have appeared in my intended photo, and on its rocky side an almost indistinct dark mark, a cave, in which evidence of shellfish gathering had been uncovered and dated to at least 5000 years ago. These folks with their small child were simply carrying on an age-old tradition of marine resource use on this rocky shore, inextricably linked by their labour to a long and noble history of such gathering.
The next day was one of epic rainfall, that stair-rod, monsoon, deluge, torrential unrelenting west coast downpour kind of rain. So I went to Tobermory village to try to get some images that reflected the interest in Balamory, the popular children’s tv programme which is filmed there, and attracts lots of families to the island dramatically boosting the tourism spend, and this being the school holidays there might be something worth capturing. First thing I spotted on the seafront, braving the deluge, were three Indian folks togged up against the rain. A quick chat revealed they worked for a bank based in Edinburgh, were in the UK on a training course and were having a weekend off on Mull, loving the rain and atmosphere of the island, and were delighted to pose, smile and be in a book. A lovely brief encounter with three very generous people.
Reena & Virash Kumawat, and Chandrajeet Yadav, Isle of Mull. © John MacPherson
And then I noticed a family, father frantically using a compact camera trying to take a photo of wife and daughter with the village behind in the downpour. I ran over offered to take the picture for them and as I did so mentioned I had an ulterior motive and if they didn’t mind could I take a picture of the three of them for a book. Yes of course the father said smiling, and they lined up and all smiled.
Happy family in the rain. Isle of Mull. © John MacPherson *
What happened next I could clearly see later in editing the images as the mother’s expression visibly changed across the frames, but at the time I was simply snapping several frames and asking the little girl to lift her Balamory dolly up so it was more visible. I asked them to give me their names and an email address so I could send them some photos in case theirs didn’t come out and handed over my notepad to the mother, whilst the father and I talked as he took more pictures of his daughter.
Mum writes address, dad and I photograph and chat. Isle of Mull. © John MacPherson *
The mother asked what the book title was and I replied that it had not been decided yet and gave a few of the preliminary titles; then she asked when it was coming out and I said it had no date set yet as it depended on the printing schedule of the publisher; finally she asked who was writing it and I said I did not know because it would only have a foreword and they’d not decided on anyone yet. And she started to quiz me – “so you’re supposed to be doing a book but you don’t seem to know very much about it do you?” And I said this is what the publishing world is like, it’s not that unusual. And off they went.
Less than a minute later as I was walking back to my van I was roughly grabbed by the slightly flustered mother saying loudly and quite aggressively “give me the notebook, give me it, NOW!” and so I handed it over and she forcefully ripped the page out saying “I don’t know why you need our home address, I’m not happy with that, give me it…” and I said somewhat perplexed “Home address? I asked for your email address….I dont have your home address, don’t need it…..” but off she strode, paper in hand, obviously still flustered and angry.
I was really quite surprised.
And then it dawned on me. That my entirely innocent request for a photo had been interpreted as being something else, something more sinister, and she feared I might have been trying to get photos of their small child. I’ve worked professionally with young people for decades, and at that moment I had no less than three full and valid CRB clearances, one for each organisation/employer I was working for, making me probably one of the ‘safest’ people they could have encountered. To say I was very upset would be an understatement.
I dumped my gear in the van and rooted around for a business card and went to look for them. I strode anxiously up and down the short main street in the pouring rain. The thought that they’d had their day spoiled by this serious misunderstanding was pretty distressing and I felt compelled to reassure them. However despite rushing up and down the street numerous times and going into various shops and cafes there was no sign of them. Thoroughly disheartened, soaking wet and cold, I gave up photographing for the day, and now feeling as miserable as the weather, spent the evening in the van consoling myself with several large brain-numbing drams.
The ‘contract of engagement’ we photographers enter into when we interact with people brings with it a multitude of possibilities. Some outcomes you can predict, others you could never guess at. Occasionally a little bit of magic results and you gain something, learn a wee bit that changes you, and delightfully, leaves your subject inspired by being considered as special. And sometimes, just sometimes, you all lose.
Sat alone, whisky in hand in my small van in the incessantly drumming rain, I recalled the shellfish gatherer’s comment from the previous day, “Cameras, they steal your soul, so they do”. And realised that earlier this afternoon I had indeed lost a wee bit of mine.
*Note: I considered whether or not I should post these images after what had transpired. I’ve decided to post them having come to the conclusion that if the family see them they will (at last) be relieved to see that I had no ulterior motive as they feared. However if they DO see them and wish them to be removed I am happy to respect that wish and will remove them.
Author — John Macpherson
John MacPherson was born and lives in the Scottish Highlands. He trained as a welder in the Glasgow shipyards, before completing an apprenticeship as a carpenter, and then qualified as a Social Worker in Disability Services. Along the way he has cooked on canal barges, trained as an Alpine Ski Leader & worked as an Instructor for Skiers with disabilities, been a canoe instructor, and tutor of night classes in carpentry, stained glass design and manufacture, and archery. He has travelled extensively on various continents, undertaking solo trips by bicycle, or motorcycle. He has had narrow escapes from an ambush by terrorists, been hit by lightning, caught in an erupting volcano, trapped in a mobile home by a tornado, kidnapped by a dog's hairdresser, rammed by a basking shark and was once bitten by a wild otter. He has combined all this with professional photography, which he has practised for over 35 years. He teaches photography and acts as a photography guide & tutor in the UK and abroad. His biggest challenge is keeping his 30 year old Land Rover 110 on the road. He loves telling and hearing stories.
Discussion (16 Comments)
A bittersweet story, beautifully written. I hope that mother comes across the book some day and understands.
A sublime piece of writing on a most thought provoking subject. Thank you.
Thanks Debra, and Paul. Yes, however distressed I felt by the encounter’s conclusion, I knew that it would be eclipsed by the way that the mother must be feeling.
And that this should happen on an island where doors are routinely left unlocked, car keys left in ignitions, and people for the most part have a great respect for each other, simply underlined the irony of it.
I do hope they see this, I think they were from the Manchester or Birmingham area, and in the medical profession, as I recall from our conversation.
It’s a sobering thing to have an your mind an image of who you are and what your aspirations are, only to have it rudely dispelled in a second, by the realisation that someone else sees you as something quite different.
A really thought-provoking pair of stories. The misunderstanding and suspicion described in the second one is sadly more common than we think in 21st-century Britain.
The odd thing to me John is that you could have taken a photo of the shellfish gatherers from a reasonable distance, presumably with the island in the background, without asking their permission. The parents of the little girl gave you permission but then her mother was very anxious about your intentions and, I think, implicitly retracted permission. However, you have still published the photographs. I know you’ve done this so that the parents might see it and realise that you are genuine – but then you could have done the same with the shellfish gatherers!
Hi Catherine – shellfish gatherers from a distance would not have worked. I considered it and then discounted it. The people were dark clothed and indistinct against the weed and the thing that really struck me was the pram, and close up with that and the child inside as the main subject with the adults just behind bent over gathering was the shot I’d envisaged. It would work in a way that the long shot would not have. Had I obtained this shot the caption information, adding the historical backstory of 5000 years of history represented by the island behind, and these people’s place in that ‘succession’, would round it out nicely. And the key thing was to interact with the group, have their cooperation and not ‘steal’ a lesser image from a distance. I think the key thing is I wanted the shot to be about the people, not the landscape, and sometimes getting in close (I use a 17-35 zoom for most of this work) is the only way to portray this idea successfully.
And similarly with the family. I could have just taken the shot across the carpark. But I didn’t, I spoke with them at some length, introduced myself and explained what I was doing, and the father obliged my request, and gave permission to take the photos. Although as they are in a public place and I’m not in any way invading their privacy, I’m not legally obliged to ask them. Morally obliged perhaps, but not legally, in so far as editorial use is concerned.
‘Permission to use’ was not retracted, because it was never required, all that was retracted was the page of my notebook in which the mother wrote something I’d not actually had a chance to read.
EDIT: but to be honest if the folks do read this and ask for the pictures to be removed, I’d have no problems doing so. If they’d accept a compromise of completely smudged out faces, fine, but if removed completely was their requirement, I’d comply. I dont have to. But I’d prefer to.
eloquently put john.
without wanting to sound glib, i suppose this all comes with the territory of being a photographer. knowledge of that doesn’t make it any any easier of course when you have the kinds of difficult experiences described above. we all feel very alone in such moments.
i had a woman attack me with a stick once for taking her photograph as she was walking down the road towards me (she was about a 100m away when i took it). no real reason – she just didnt’t like to be photographed.
I think also it’s worth adding that this just sums up the inexact nature of photography. It is multi-faceted, riven with contradictions of intent, points of view, moral ambiguities, ethical considerations, and overarching it always the ‘law’ of whichever place you happen to be when you use a camera. In many situations there is no exact right or wrong, only some grey-shaded middle ground where we can all often feel uncomfortable. Or not.
Thanks for explaining John. I would certainly have liked to have seen a piece about the shellfish gatherers just as you describe. Was just thinking that this is the type of occasion when it would be great to be a painter so you could go away and paint the scene from memory!
Probably also worth pointing out that this encounter with the shellfish gatherers is in a fairly remote area, and as soon as I stopped my conspicuous van they looked over, but then continued to work. Given that we were all conscious of their black economy working – sneaking images and then getting chased on a narrow road on an island with no escape route is really not a clever thing to do! Sometimes common sense dictates far more of what happens than any moral, ethical or legal restraints!
I spent some time early last year doing a portrait project on a Gypsy site in Lancashire. I’ve been working with Travellers for several years and have known one of the site’s residents all that time – she trusts me totally and worked hard to get me access to other residents (all related to her) but thanks to Big Fat Gypsy Weddings and all the other crap in the media at that time, things were a bit tough and no one wanted to so much as meet me.
Anyway, one Saturday she took me to meet a young mum she had convinced to sit for a portrait. I spent several hours hanging out with this girl in her trailer, talking about all kinds of things, including other people’s attitudes to Travellers and her experiences of racism within the town. We got on really well and laughed a lot. I did some portraits of her with her toddler, showed them to her, and promised to bring her some prints the following week. I thought it had gone really well, and went home feeling very positive about my project for the first time in weeks. Later that night though I had a phone call from my main contact on the site – the young woman had spent the rest of the day working herself into a state of paranoia and had decided that I must be an undercover policewoman because why else would I be interested in Travellers, and why would I ask so many questions and want to take photos on a site. She had convinced herself that I was going to investigate her husband’s business and try to get them into trouble. I thought we had got on well and simply had a nice conversation. It gave me real food for thought about my nosiness, which just comes from my work. I don’t mean any harm with it but some people don’t get it.
Thanks for your comments Ciara.
Its so bloody hard to do the kind of work you/we feel compelled to do because of the often exploitative nature of mainstream media portrayal of particular groups. As a consequence our motives are always suspect, even when trying to remain neutral and empathetic.
I hope you were able to get back to the young woman and reassure her?
she moved on a couple of days later but I sent prints to her mum’s address that she gave me. It still makes me feel bad that someone could be so suspicious of me, but it’s understandable really.
I think you did all you could. I’ve done similar – sent the prints I promised with a thank you note, and received no response. Once years later I got a thank you from someone. People may forget to reply, but they often do remember the contact.
I just had removed some photographs from my Google page and my facebook page after a parent retracted their consent. I guess I could of been funny and said they were taken in a public place and you agreed but to be honest there are so many horror stories out there it’s not surprising that parents are worried. It’s a shame because there are some beautiful photo’s that I now won’t use on my site or pages because of their concerns but also my best ones so far too – always the way isn’t it 🙂 Really enjoyed your post.
Thanks SJ. Yes its a real shame that honest work can get you so far into a ‘mess’. However, like you, if a parent wishes an image retracted, I’d agree. It’s really not worth the distress it causes them and the damage it can cause you too.