Why, when we look at a piece of art or a photo that resonates with us, can it stir something inside that makes us reflect? Maybe it makes us think about a past interaction or memory; an argument with a family member, a good holiday, our favourite snack, or even about a long lost friend we haven’t seen in a while. Photographic art has this particular quality stamped all over it. In Susan Sontag’s book “On Photography" she states “Photography has the unappealing reputation of being the most realistic, therefore facile, of the mimetic arts.". Despite how brutal that statement is, - photo people I can recommend the book, if you’d like to be ripped to shreds - I want to focus on that word, realistic. Consider how that makes us feel when we look at a photo. Perhaps, that is the reason photographic art has true power, ultimately it is easier to empathise with a photo. After all, it’s real.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about how and why the practice of photography can stir uncomfortable emotions in us. Discomfort in life, whatever context, is without a doubt an anxiety inducing hell - we feel stuck, unable to process this shit-storm of emotions without taking a step back and labelling it. Sometimes we label it appropriately, sometimes not, and our reactions to these labels ripple outward, often having ramifications far beyond ourselves.
Reactions can be expressed in our art and life, and we approach with a new set of standards; more anger, more directness, more absurdity, more vulnerability. Discomfort pushes us to confront truths we’d rather ignore, forcing growth and change. Embracing these unsettling feelings is essential to reaching an important end goal, courage. In doing so, we learn to navigate the discomfort, see things with a clearer mind (or eyes), and open ourselves up to new perspectives. I believe that in this uneasy, transient space, true transformation happens, where we can grow into something more authentic and resilient.
As photo-takers, putting ourselves in uncomfortable situations and coming out the other side with a photo, good or bad, can be seen as growth. That tricky interaction on the street while capturing a candid moment, chasing the light at a tourist attraction or the desperate wedding photographer trying to capture a flattering portrait under pressure. Sometimes these things can’t be forced into our perfect narrative. All of these examples are equitable to the situations we can find ourselves in life, and yet, somehow, we come out the other side a different person to the one that went in. Over time, that wedding photographer, after a few wedding shoots, finds the angle instinctively, and knows when to let go of unattainable perfection. Likewise in our lives we learn that discomfort is not something to be feared, but a space in which we can refine our understanding.
This is growth. It’s maturity. Being able to sit in one’s uncomfortable state, rationalise it, and come out of it having lived and learned. Photographically speaking, that could be any sort of technical learning; how to work in difficult conditions, low light etc. In life, it can be finding out how we can absorb our surroundings, our situation, and rationalise that sense of undeniable anxiety or discomfort and yet, come out on top.
Reflecting on, and accepting our discomfort, is essential in artistic and personal growth. Just as a photographer may navigate a difficult interaction on the street, or unpredictable weather to capture a compelling image, in life we must also confront uncertainty with a dose of healthy positivity and eagerness to evolve. These moments that challenge us force us to adapt. We observe more keenly, inwardly, and outwardly, and they serve to allow us to gain a deeper understanding of ourselves, other people, and art.
Street photography, in particular, is built on connections. There is often a silent exchange between subject and photographer, a glance and a nod, perhaps a "you look great today, thanks for the photo". These small interactions mirror the way we build relationships in life. Robert Capa said: "If your photographs aren’t good enough, you’re not close enough." You may as well replace "photographs" with "relationships" and need I say any more. And when I say "relationships" I mean everyone you care about, and your photographic subjects.
Street photographers (or at least successful ones) must approach with openness rather than fear, embrace uncertainty rather than resist it. Similarly, I think meaningful personal connections are often born out of vulnerability, or at the very least, mutual understanding, in the willingness to step beyond our comfort zone and truly see another person. Regardless of if it’s through the lens or in conversation, this challenge remains: find honesty in the unpredictable and often messy situations life puts us in, connect and (hopefully) grow through the discomfort, and walk away changed.
I don’t want to get the sentiment of this ramble confused with another closely related topic: certainty. Growth in discomfort isn’t about finding certainty. For me, it’s about learning to accept and sit with uncertainty. In the street with my camera, I often encounter moments that don’t unfold as planned (see article #1). It’s not about finding a guaranteed formula; it’s about embracing the unknowns. The process of navigating these unpredictable moments shapes us. Growth comes from stepping into the uncertainty, allowing ourselves to move forward, even when we’re unsure of the outcome. It’s through this acceptance of uncertainty that we open ourselves up to new perspectives.
Luckily, in photography we are spoiled. That crap photo can always be taken again or at least a facsimile can be produced via a similar situation, or even a simple crop can bring us closer to what we were trying to capture. Unluckily, however, in life, it’s not that easy. Sitting with the discomfort of past interactions or experiences and traumas, reflecting on the things we wish we had said or done differently can feel like an inescapable loop, despairing. The purpose of this article, I suppose, is to expose (see what I did there) the power in moving forward, and trying to find that open hearted sweetness that comes with making genuine connections, FYI as I have found, that connection can be with yourself, too.
Finding the common ground that once brought you close to someone or something (could be a hobby or a specific interest) in the past - maybe time and circumstance pulled you apart, can be a powerful act of growth. (Re)connecting and seeing and showing that vulnerable side only serves us positively, with the right people, of course. So share that photo, song you wrote, or reach out to that old friend, say hi to your street subject, and let the connection dissipate your discomfort, and maybe, just maybe, it’ll be your growth.
NB: I wrote this quickly after article #1 and since its closely related, I’ve posted it the day after “Shooting With Intention". Don’t expect this output regularly.