Just had a deliciously super dig dag BLAST teaching a street portraiture workshop as part of the Julia Dean Photography Workshops. We focused on Venice Beach and found many great subjects.
We also built a mini outdoor studio….but the winds were so strong, we had to have body weight to hold down the sides of the black velvet material, which only added to the fun.
While touring Oregon state on assignment with 1859 Magazine, some man said “How about THIS for your camera?” and made a face at my cellphone. It was so much fun for everyone to see this image, I decided to do more. And more. Everywhere I go, if the someone looks “faceworthy”, I ask them to make a face into my camera.
I had great fun out on the streets with other photographers during ASMP’s “Portland Squared” event. I really enjoyed seeing everyone’s work at the end of the day…so many different perspectives!
And I think perhaps most of all I loved feeling of camaraderie that was present throughout the day. Established photographers came together with students who are just starting out with their careers and it did not matter what type of camera anyone had or whether they were published, won an award, or made a ton of money this year. We all were there for the simple love of photography.
I decided to set up an outdoor studio in a few locations in my “square” of Portland. I took hundreds of images, and at the end of the day, my cellphone images were my favorite of the day.
If working on the streets sounds like something you would like to try, street photography/portraiture is a class I teach regularly. Check the class listings on my website, or send me an email to see if we are in the planning stages of an upcoming class.
A bit of press:
I just had an incredibly fun time teaching my first class in a new series of workshops entitled “GET IN THE VAN”. The concept is simple and dynamic: I team up with another photographer I admire, we select a location, and participants get two-in-one instructors for the workshop. We also try to keep a few locations secret, revealing them on the day of the workshop. And we also keep the class size small so there is plenty of hands-on instruction.
Leah Nash was pure fun to work with on this first class! Here are some images from our one-day class held on the streets of Portland.
I am still basking in the afterglow of teaching a street photography workshop in Amsterdam with one of the most amazing group of people. We kept the class size small so that we could give hands on instruction regarding how to approach people on the streets and take compelling images of them, plus making a few new friends along the way!
I co-taught this workshop with Michael Schoenholtz, and he was a well oiled machine with his skills and very much fun to work with. We all ended up staying well past the time that the workshop ended, because we loved each other so much!
Just taught my first workshop at New York University and it was a complete riot! All of the students initially were nervous to approach people on the busy streets of New York City, but wham! They got the hang of it quickly. We also added in a bit of storytelling as each person they met gave them information about their work, what they liked to do, etc.
The students’ professor then met with us at the end of the day to look at all of the images and hear the stories about the people they met. We also discussed how this workshop fit into the theme of her syllabus.
The class was a positive experience for all, and it looks like I will be asked to come back and do it again next year!
Thank you for your wonderful workshop Friday. What a generous gift you gave to all of us. – Professor Jessamyn Hatcher
He sits there in a heap, crying like a baby, begging for something. At first glance, I assume he wants money. Or a fix.
All I hear is a mumbled “Al Pacino”.
What?
“Al Pacino is coming here. I’m waiting for him. I’m gonna wait four days for him. Right here.”
My gut tells me to walk by, eyes ahead, avoiding the possibility of incidental contact. But that’s not why I am in the Castro District of San Francisco today. I am here to take photographs. I stop to look into his pleading and exceptionally beautiful green eyes.
“When is he coming?” I ask.
He doesn’t hear my question. Instead, we start to list all the movies we could think of that Al Pacino is in. And then, as though he finally registers my initial question, he nods upward toward a poster on the Castro Theater wall announcing that Al Pacino will be there in a few days for a movie opening.
My inner Midwestern upbringing good-girl mentality kicks in, and my brain goes straight to: “Don’t photograph this poor soul. It would be exploitative.” But my gut is starting to have the upper hand in my life these days, and I proceed to hang up my piece of black velvet with the help of my body-builder friend Mark who had agreed to meet me there. I can’t get it to stick on the side of the building because of the soppy rain spots, but Mark helps to hold it in place. When I bring my camera out, Mr. Castro perks up, as much as his wobbling head will allow.
“Want me to photograph you?” He chokes out the words, a little shy-boy look across his face peering out from behind his dangling wet hair.
Sure! (Are you kidding me?)
I give him my camera making sure to secure the strap to my hand. He’s an active, erratic and currently high addict. His eyes get glassy and he tries to take the camera from me, saying he needs to get a better handle on it as he frames me. I don’t let go.
He can’t find the shutter release, even though I show him about ten times where it is. His fingers keep slipping off the camera. He starts to fall. Twice. My hand grips the strap even harder, waiting for him to begin his descent, ready to whip the camera over in my direction before it could crash along with him into the sidewalk.
What in the hell have I done?
When he finally snaps the photo, I try to pry the camera from him, but he insists that he needs to hold it to see the photo. I say ok, no problem, and try to show him how to view it on the back of the camera. He reluctantly lets go, but not without first looking stoically into my eyes and holding his gaze on me, as though to say, I know your game. You would never trust me.
I start to pack up, giving up the notion to photograph him, as badly as I would like to do it. He is right: I don’t trust him. He does scare the hell out of me. I have no business being there, in his world, as I, dressed in new Diesel jeans with a healthy check on my own vices, am tipping on the edge of my security, and he, not in the same stage as I in his life, could live as free from structure as I could only imagine.
As I put my camera in my bag, I heard Mark murmur under his breath let’s get the hell out of here.
“Don’t you want to photograph me?”
The sound of his strained voice jolts me.
He asks a second time. I get my camera back out, this time searching his face and locking my eyes into his.
As I look at these images now at home, he haunts me. We all start out as little precious beings, seeking love and attention and a safe place to rest our heads and our hearts. I study his worn yet lovely face. Cleaned up and sitting at a desk in some corporate setting or spinning records in a downtown hip venue, he would be a strikingly handsome man. Instead, one decision leads to another, and here he is.
I wonder about his mother. Does she care where he is? Does she know he sleeps on the streets and hustles for heroin and gets beaten regularly? I conjure a vision of a mother sitting in a living room somewhere, gazing out from a window, sickened to her core that her little boy went from middle school beer tasting to high school vodka to pot to acid to cocaine to riding this wild horse.
He knew I wanted to photograph him. And he was quite happy with his reflection as he looked at it, as well as he could understand it in that state.
As I write this, I am sitting in my cozy little house sipping a glass of Pinot Gris and wearing a warm cinched corduroy jacket with turquoise leather inlay cowboy boots. I think about him often.
I wonder if Al Pacino returned his hello.
I have been getting back out on the streets to find random subjects that I want to photograph.
It’s all in the eyes.
I spotted Josiah as he skated by on his skateboard, going everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He now floats in my mind like Walter Chappell and others; they are whispers..not quite in focus, but in my memory, and so alive.
Reminds me of the beauty of ancestors.
I absolutely love to teach, and one of my favorite subjects is street portraiture/photography. Here are some images from the latest workshop.
(Participant working with subject she just met on the street.)
(I will do just about anything to get some subjects for participants! Photo by Carol Sternkopf)
(Jasmine, subject from street portraiture workshop)
(Once again, some antics deployed to have fun in this workshop! Photo by Lorraine Richey)
Another street photography workshop has been scheduled for April 8-10! Join Quinton and I as we once again hit the Portland streets to create portraiture and editorial images.
Spaces fill up quickly, as we limit the number of participants to keep the class small, so sign up early!
