Reflecting On “The Dangerous Idea of Danger” and the Street Photography Process

By Christine Kemp

Recently, I revisited a blog post by TC Lin called The Dangerous Idea of Danger. In the article, TC discusses a familiar (mis)characterization that street photographers must be “brave” or “bold” and that street photography is only something that can be done once one’s fears are conquered. TC posits that these ideas come from the concept that street photography is all about sticking a camera in someone’s face at point-blank range and that any process, no matter how invasive, is worth it to “get the shot.”

TC separates himself from this thinking by saying, “When I look at work, however, I don’t generally judge it in terms of how brave the photographer might have been in taking the shot, but rather the depth of their perception.” He thoughtfully considers a different angle, saying, “Framing one’s goals in terms of confidence in one’s perceptive abilities and a healthy respect for one’s subjects seems more likely to take one farther than sheer derring-do, which emphasizes the photographer’s sense of entitlement at the expense of their subjects, throwing the results of the interaction further from our realm of consideration.”

Regardless of the photographer’s process, there remains a central conflict of whether or not we should feel guilty or invasive for taking someone’s picture at all – or as TC puts it, “Why do we see our own gaze as potentially offensive to others?” His perspective is that media sectors have “worked to capitalize and assign a power structure to the nature of our attention,” and as a result “other kinds of attention have become vilified and shunned according to this scale. Among these is being noticed in public when one hasn’t specifically asked to be.”

So, what’s my perspective? Street photography isn’t a game at other people’s expense. It’s not even just about art. It’s about sociology, anthropology, psychology. It’s about recording the exact truth of humanity and elevating it to an aesthetically pleasing level. I don’t do it for the hunt or to test myself to see how close I can get. I do it to help contribute to the record of human existence because as I see it – what else is there? Simply put, I agree with Mr. Lin.

And what about my process? You’ll rarely see a photo of mine with just a single person in the frame. I prefer to capture scenes or tableaus with multiple subjects. These types of photos are visually satisfying to me. They can also be difficult to do well, and I like the challenge. But I’ve also realized I take pictures in this way so that no one person feels “othered” should they see me taking their picture. I worry less about a perceived invasion of privacy and more about the possibility that a person might feel self-conscious, embarrassed, or that they’re unintentionally a spectacle to be photographed. Photographing a scene lessens this effect because no one person is singled out. If I don’t feel I’m doing anything wrong, I have nothing to feel guilty about. And if I do get the sense that my presence as a photographer is unwanted, I simply put my camera down.

Street photography can be considered self-serving, but I’d also argue it serves a greater good by contributing to a historical record through the intersection of art and cultural anthropology. To quote Alex Webb from the book, Alex Webb and Rebecca Norris Webb on Street Photography and the Poetic Image, “Ultimately, how long a street photographer can linger in any given situation is largely thanks to the grace of others.”

I encourage you to read the original article by TC Lin here.