"What has interested me in taking photographs is the maximum — the maximum that exists in a situation and the maximum I can produce from it.” - Josef Koudelka For the last ten years, I have tried to seek my own personal voice, style, and path in photography. This journey has led me through life in so many incredible ways. I have learned so many valuable lessons in photography (and life) which has transformed me as a human being. My particular interest has been in street photography; capturing moments of everyday life in public settings. I have always been drawn to my fellow human beings, and street photography has helped me become a more empathetic human being. Ultimately, photography is photography. I used to feel that I should only shoot "street photography," but I have discovered in my path that it doesn't matter what you shoot. What matters is how shooting makes you feel. What matters is whether photography pushes you outside of your comfort zone, and whether you are able to achieve your personal maximum. I feel the purpose of my life is to produce knowledge, and to distill information and lessons I've learned about photography to the masses. I am certainly not a "master" myself; just a humble student dedicated to a life-long pursuit of learning. Everything I share in this book is a distillation of the lessons I've learned from the masters of photography. Don't take everything in this book as "truth." Rather, see the masters of photography as your personal guides. Take these lessons with a pinch of salt; pick and choose which lessons resonate with you, and throw away the rest. Ultimately to find your own personal vision and style in photography, you just need to know yourself as a human being. "Know thyself" is the greatest wisdom given to us by the ancient philosophers. Find yourself through the book, and discover the photographer you are. Love, Eric (@ Blue Bottle on Broadway, Oakland, Tuesday 3:46pm, Nov 10, 2015) “If your photographs aren't good enough, you're not close enough.” - Robert Capa One of the common mistakes that many beginning street photographers make is this: they don’t get close enough. We have many fears and provide a lot of excuses for not getting close enough in our street photography. We are worried about pissing people off, we are worried about making other people feel uncomfortable, and we are worried that strangers might call the cops on us (or even worse, physically assault us). Realize that this is all in your head. By getting closer to a stranger, you won’t die. In-fact, I have learned that in photography (and life), with physical proximity comes emotional proximity. It isn’t enough to use a telephoto or zoom lens to get “close” to your subject. By using a telephoto lens, you compress your image, and visually your photo feels less intimate. It feels like you are more of a voyeur looking in; rather than you being an active participant of the scene. In street photography I generally recommend using a 35mm lens (full-frame equivalent) for most photographers (Alex Webb, Constantine Manos, and Anders Petersen shoot with this focal length). The human eye sees the world in around a 40mm field-of-view, and I find that shooting with a 35mm lens gives you enough wiggle-room around the edges of the frame. A 50mm is fine too (Henri Cartier-Bresson was famous for using it for nearly his entire life), but in today’s crowded world, I find it to be a bit too tight. A 28mm is fantastic too (William Klein, Bruce Gilden, and Garry Winogrand have used this focal length), but realize that you have to be close enough with this lens to fill the frame. As a rule-of-thumb, I try to shoot with a 35mm at least two-arm-lengths away (or closer). 2 arm-lengths is 1.2 meters (around 4 feet). Therefore I always have my camera pre-focused to 1.2 meters, set at f/8, ISO 1600, and I simply go out to find moments to shoot. If you see an amazing character once in your life, realize that you will never see them ever again. So live life without regrets and make the photograph. For this photo, I saw this amazing woman in the streets of NYC and said to her, “Oh my God miss, you are the most incredible-looking woman I have seen all day. Do you mind if I made a few photographs of you?” She was quite humbled and said, “Of course!” I got very close with her with a Ricoh GR digital camera, and shot on 28mm with the Macro mode in “P” (program) mode with ISO 400. To fill the frame with her face, I shot this photograph at around .3 meters (about 1 foot away). I took many photographs, shooting some with flash, some without. I asked her to look up, and to look down at me. On the 19th frame, she started bursting out laughing and said, “You’re taking so many photos, you’re crazy!” and started laughing. On that frame, I captured the “decisive moment.” After capturing the moment, I still wasn’t 100% sure whether I got an interesting photograph or not, so I kept clicking, around 10 more frames. As a general rule-of-thumb, when I think I’ve got the photograph, I try to take 25% more photographs (because you never know if you might catch an even more interesting photograph after-the-fact). Later she told me she was 82 years old. The reason the photograph is meaningful to me is because there are too many photos of death, destruction, and misery in the world. It is one of the very few “happy” photos I’ve shot. Inspired by this image, I hope to make more photographs like this to spread positivity and love in the world. “My photography is not ‘brain photography’. I put my brain under the pillow when I shoot. I shoot with my heart and with my stomach.” - Anders Petersen Anders Petersen is one of the most influential contemporary master photographers. He shoots with a simple point-and-shoot film camera (Contax T3) and shoots soulful black and white images which he refers to as “personal documentary.” He makes himself and the people he meets as his main subjects, and he shoots from the heart. A photograph without emotion is dead. The problem that a lot of photographers make is that they try to become too analytical with their photography. They are too preoccupied with composition, framing, form, nice light, and they forget the most important thing of making a memorable image: creating an image that has heart, soul, and passion. When you’re out shooting, try not too be too analytical. Shoot from your intuition and your guts. If you find anything even remotely interesting, don’t self-censor yourself. Don’t let your brain tell you: “Don’t take that shot, it is boring, and nobody will find it interesting.” Take the photograph anyways, because you can always edit it out (remove it) later. But when is it time to become analytical? “It is more after when I am shooting when I am looking at my contact sheets, and then I try to analyze and put things together.” - Anders Petersen Shoot from your gut when you’re out on the streets, but use your brain when you’re at home and editing (selecting) your shots. Analyze your images after-the-fact as a post-mortem, and learn how to “kill your babies” (weak photos that you are emotionally attached to, but you know aren’t great photos). Separate the shooting and editing sides of your photography. They use different parts of your brains, and if you try to do both of them at the same time, you will fail. As a practical tip, turn off your LCD screen when shooting, and refrain from looking at your images immediately after you’ve shot them (they call this “chimping”). Why? It kills your shooting “flow.” Furthermore, let your shots “marinate” by not looking at them until a week after you have made your images. To truly get comfortable getting closer to your subjects, try this assignment from my friend Satoki Nagata: For an entire month, only take photos of your subjects from .7 meters (1-arm-length). For this assignment, switch your camera to manual-focusing mode, and tape the focusing mechanism of your lens to that distance. By setting yourself this “creative constraint,” you will learn how to better engage your subjects and get them comfortable with you shooting at such a close distance. Start off by asking for permission, then once you feel more courageous, start shooting candidly. I shoot both film and digital, but one of the biggest advantages of shooting film is that you’re forced not to look at your photos immediately after you’ve shot it. With film, I generally don't get my film processed until 6 months-1 year after I’ve shot it. This helps me truly help disconnect myself emotionally from my shots, which allows me to look at my photos more objectively. With digital I find it a lot harder to let my shots “marinate,” as I am prone to “chimping” (looking at your LCD screen immediately after you’ve taken photographs). For this photograph, I saw this woman juxtaposed against this billboard behind her in London. I got close to her, and took two photos: both with a flash. One of them she was looking away, and one she was looking directly at me: At first I didn’t think that it was an interesting shot, but then I let the shot “marinate”— and the longer I sat on the image, the more I ended up liking it. I also ended up showing the photograph to a couple of my close friends, who all agreed that it was a strong image. For some shots, the longer you let your shots “marinate,” the more you like them. For others, the longer you let your shots “marinate,” the less you like them. Imagine oil and water in a bottle. You shake the bottle hard, and they are both mixed. The longer you wait, the oil will soon rise to the top (your good photos), while the water will sink to the bottom (your weak photos). “I never shoot without using the viewfinder.” - Garry Winogrand Another common mistake that aspiring street photographers make is that they try to overcome their fear of shooting street photography by shooting from the hip (photographing with your camera at waist-level and not looking through the viewfinder). Personally when I started shooting street photography, I was dependent on “shooting from the hip”(2010). I was too scared to bring my camera’s viewfinder up to my eye, because I was afraid of getting “caught” of taking candid photos of strangers. Garry Winogrand was one of the most prolific street photographers in history. He shot with a Leica M4, 28mm lens, and was known for creating layered, edgy, and head-on shots. If you go on YouTube, you can see how close he is to his subjects when shooting, and he always quickly looks through his viewfinder while shooting. This allowed him to frame properly, and capture the moments he found interesting. “[Don’t shoot from the hip], you’ll lose control over your framing.” - Garry Winogrand In my experience, I found that shooting from the hip was a huge crutch. The more I shot from the hip, the less confident I was as a street photographer. Not only that, but as Garry Winogrand said, I lost control over my framing. My shots would be poorly framed, skewed, and any shot that I got that looked half-decent was because of luck. As a street photographer, you aren’t doing anything wrong. You are trying to make images that people can empathize with. If it weren’t for street photographers, historians would have no idea what people did in public spaces in the past. All of the iconic street photography done by Henri Cartier-Bresson, Helen Levitt, Robert Doisenau, and Vivian Maier wouldn’t exist. Be confident. Have faith in yourself. By not shooting from the hip, you’re signaling to the world that you’re not doing anything wrong. Also by using your viewfinder (or LCD screen), you can have better control over your framing and composition. What do you do when you’re shooting street photography and you get “caught in the act?” My suggestion: Look at your subject, smile, say “thank you” and move on. Sometimes it is good to have your subjects notice that you are about to take a photograph of them. For example in this photo I shot in Hollywood, I saw this hip older lady with these great sunglasses and hat. I crouched down, and took a photograph with my Canon 5D and 24mm lens. The second I was about to take a photograph of her, she looked at me and posed with her hands (giving me the “jazz hands”). If I shot from the hip, she might have not noticed me. Therefore she would have never posed for me, and this photo wouldn’t exist. But does that ruin the photograph, the fact that your subject noticed you? Absolutely not. William Klein famously engaged with his subjects a lot when he shot street photography, and his presence made his photographs more vibrant, dynamic, and edgy. “If you start cutting or cropping a good photograph, it means death to the geometrically correct interplay of proportions. Besides, it very rarely happens that a photograph which was feebly composed can be saved by reconstruction of its composition under the darkroom’s enlarger; the integrity of vision is no longer there.” - Henri Cartier-Bresson A common mistake many photographers make is that they over-crop their images. They are “crop-a-holics,” in which they crop every single photograph they take (even when unnecessary). I am also a recovering “crop-a-holic.” I would unnecessarily over-crop my shots (even when the edges would be interesting). Another downside to being a “crop-a-holic”: I would be lazy when shooting street photography. I shot really far away from my subjects, thinking that I could just crop and zoom in to my subjects, instead of moving physically closer to my subjects. I would always tell myself in the back of my head, “Eh, if I didn’t get the shot right, I can always crop it later.” This made me lazy, and prevented me from improving my composition and framing. When I first learned that Henri Cartier-Bresson (the Godfather of street photography and the master of composition) didn’t crop his images (and forbade his students to do so), I decided to also try the assignment for myself. In the beginning, it was difficult not to crop my shots. Also by not cropping my shots, I realized how sloppy I was when I framed my images. Therefore by imposing this rule of not cropping on myself, I began to focus on “filling the frame” and creating better edges in my shots, which improved my composition dramatically. I am not saying that you should never crop your photographs. There are a lot of master street photographers who heavily cropped their photographs (Robert Frank did some radical cropping for his seminal book: “The Americans,” even turning some landscape shots into portrait shots with cropping). If you want to improve your composition: go an entire year without cropping. I can guarantee you that a year later, your composition will improve dramatically. And if in the future you do decide to start cropping again, always do it in moderation (I recommend cropping less than 10% of a frame). When you’re shooting in the streets, avoid “tunnel-vision” (only looking in the center of the frame). Focus on the edges of the frame and particularly the background to improve your composition. If you want better composition and framing in your photography, focus on the edges. Don’t worry about the subject in the center of the frame, if you focus on the edges what is in the center of the frame generally takes care of itself. In Aix-en-Provence, I saw a woman drinking some wine the table across from me. I saw this epic silhouette of her and her wine glass, so I went up to her and asked if I could take some photos of her shadow. She reluctantly agreed. I ended up shooting many different photos of the scene, focusing on the edges of the frame while I was composing this image. I wanted to get the silhouette of her face, the silhouette of the wine glass, and also of the water carafe in the bottom-left of the frame. Focus on the edges, and your composition will fall into place. “Sometimes photographers mistake emotion for what makes a great street photograph.” - Garry Winogrand Imagine this situation: it is a cold and rainy day. You are out shooting on the streets, and you are feeling miserable. You are about to give up and go home when you see a little girl with a red umbrella about to jump over a puddle. You think of the famous photograph of Henri Cartier-Bresson (man jumping over puddle), and get excited. The girl jumps, and you click. You just captured the “decisive moment.” You rush home, quickly download your photos to your computer, post-process the photo, and then upload the photograph online. You cross your arms, and think that it is one of the finest photographs you have ever taken. You are excited that perhaps, finally, you will get over 100+ favorites/likes on this image. A day or so passes, and you only got 10-15 favorites/likes. You throw up your hands in rage and think to yourself: “These people on the internet wouldn’t know a great image if it hit them in the face!” You then continue about your day. A week or two go by, and you revisit the image. You then look at the image and tell yourself: “Hmmm, this image isn’t quite as good as I remembered it.” What just happened? You became emotionally attached to the backstory of how difficult it was to get that image (and the emotion you felt of being excited). This confused you into thinking that this was actually an “objectively” good shot. This happens to the best of us. We get too emotionally attached to our shots, because we were there. We experienced it. It feels alive and vivid inside our memories. The problem is that our viewers have no idea what the backstory of the image is (unless you write a long caption, which I generally advise against). What is the solution? Emotionally detach yourself from your photos. When editing (selecting) which images to “keep” and “ditch,” ask your peers to be “brutally honest” with your work. In photography, the entire story of the image must exist inside the frame. If you want to tell a better story, include context in your photos. I have this vivid story in my head of how I got the image: I saw this well-dressed man in a hotel lobby, and asked if I could make a few photos. He said, “No problem,” and I took seven photos. Afterwards, I asked him what he did. He told me, “I own this hotel!” Now I have this vivid backstory, but the viewer has no idea about that story or information in this photograph. Viewers find this photograph interesting because the outfit of the man looks like he’s from the 1950s — a relic of the past. The viewer then makes up their own story about the man, based on the films they have seen in the past. If you have a photograph which is weak without having a compelling story, ditch the shot. When you have to “explain” the back-story of a street photograph, it is like explaining a joke. Funny jokes don’t need to be “explained.” “Rather than catching people unaware, they show the face they want to show. Unposed, caught unaware, they might reveal ambiguous expressions, brows creased in vague internal contemplation, illegible, perhaps meaningless. Why not allow the subject the possibility of revealing his attitude toward life, his neighbor, even the photographer?” - William Klein There is a general scorn in street photography against “posed” photos (or photos that aren’t shot candidly). A lot of people follow the Henri Cartier-Bresson school of street photography in which the photographer shouldn’t interact with his/her subjects, and to be an unattached observer. However there is more than one approach to street photography. One street photographer who interacted with his subjects is William Klein; a street photographer who gave a middle-finger to all of the “rules” in photography. Klein provoked his subjects, and interact with them. Even for Klein’s famous “Kid with gun” photograph, he told the kid: “Look tough.” At that moment, the kid with the toy gun pointed the gun to Klein’s face with a look of hate, anger, and intensity (see the contact sheet). One lesson I learned from Martin Parr when shooting “street portraits” is this: ask your subject to look straight into the lens and not to smile. Sometimes I will more directly pose my subjects by asking them to look the other direction, cross their arms, to take a puff of their cigarette, or look left, right, down, and up. An objection I often hear: “But Eric, once you engage with your subjects and ask them to do something for you, doesn’t it make the photograph less legitimate?” My response is this: Every photograph we take is a self-portrait of ourselves. We decide how to filter reality. We decide what to put into the frame and what to exclude. Don’t have any personal qualms about showing your own version of reality through your photography. Embrace it. Sometimes you see things happen in the street; certain gestures, facial expressions, or actions by your subjects but miss “the decisive moment.” If you ever see a moment that you miss, try this out: approach the subject and ask them: “Can you do that again for me?” For example, I was in Downtown LA in the fashion district and I saw a man blowing his nose. It looked like an interesting gesture, and I loved his eyes, his suit, and the overall moment. However the second I brought up my camera, he dropped the tissue and made eye contact with me (and stopped blowing his nose). I then said, “Excuse me sir, I love your outfit and look. Can you do me a favor and blow your nose again for me?” He laughed, and blew his nose again, and I took a few photos while walking backwards with a flash. Now believe it or not, most people are quite happy to repeat certain gestures for you if you just ask. Another technique you can try out in street photography if you feel timid approaching strangers and taking photos without their permission is to approach them and ask them, “Pretend like I’m not here.” If you see a cool-looking guy smoking a cigar in front of a store, you can approach him and say, “Excuse me, I think you look badass smoking that cigar. Don’t mind me, can you just keep smoking that cigar and pretend like I’m not here?” Most people will laugh, and literally ignore you. This can help you get a candid-looking photo (without getting punched in the face). Sometimes your subject will start posing and smiling while continuing to smoke their cigar. In those situations, simply linger around, don’t say anything, and wait about 30 seconds until they start ignoring you. Another tip: you can start chatting with them and asking them how their day is. When they start talking and drop their guard, you can continue taking photos. This allows you to capture much more natural looking photos (that don’t look posed). “You are not supposed to be a slave of mechanical tools, they are supposed to help you and be as small and unimportant as possible not to disturb the communication.” - Anders Petersen There is a disease and a sickness out there which afflicts millions of photographers globally, and costs them hundreds and thousands of dollars. This disease breeds insecurity amongst photographers, as they feel that the camera they have is never good enough. They think that once they upgrade their camera to a newer and more expensive version (or buy a new lens), they will suddenly become more “inspired’ and creative. The disease? It is called “G.A.S.” (Gear Acquisition Syndrome). The concept is that camera companies, bloggers, and marketers try to breed dissatisfaction and insecurity with photographers by telling them: “The reason your photos suck is because your camera isn’t good enough.” Personally I am still afflicted with “G.A.S.” Whenever I am dissatisfied with my photography, I always hope that buying a new camera will suddenly re-inspire me, and open up doors of creativity. Trust me: it never does. One of the mantras I preach is: “Buy books, not gear.” Frankly I regret all the time, energy, and effort I wasted on buying new cameras and lenses. I wish I invested all of that time and money in photography-education (books, workshops) as well as traveling. Money can buy you happiness, but only if you spend it on experiences, not stuff. Not only that, but I find reading gear review sites, gear rumor sites, and gear forum sites always poisons me into wanting to buy new cameras and lenses that I don’t need. I have added a “StayFocusd” Google Chrome plugin which prevents me from visiting these gear-related sites (because I have no self-control). I have discovered that when I am out shooting, I don’t think much about my camera. I only think about my camera when I am sitting at home or bored at work when I am surfing the web. When I had a full-time 9-5 job, I barely had enough time to shoot street photography and hated my life. Somehow I convinced myself that by buying a new camera, I would spend more time going out and shooting. Whenever I bought a new camera, it would only “inspire” me for a week or two, then I would return to baseline. Remember; invest your money into experiences, travel, workshops, education, and photography books. No camera will help improve your vision. I am still personally afflicted from “G.A.S.” (regardless of how many Tums I eat). I am a materialistic person, and everyday I have to fight the urge not to desire a new smartphone, car, home, clothes, watch, laptop, tablet, camera, lens, or accessory. I am still not fully cured from “Gear Acquisition Syndrome”, but here are some things that have me feel (less) “gassy”: Be grateful for what you have: Rather than wanting a camera that I don’t have, I try to write down why I love the camera I already own. Realize there is no “perfect” camera: Every camera has an upside and downside. Rather than trying to find a “perfect” camera, try to find a “good enough” camera. Become a “satisficer” (happy with “good enough”) instead of being a “maximizer” (wanting “perfect”). For further reading, read my article: “What to Consider When Buying a New Camera for Street Photography” and the book: “The Paradox of Choice.” Set yourself an upgrade limit: You don’t want to own one digital camera for the rest of your life. For example, most laptops and smartphones work reasonably well for about 3 years. So set yourself a rule: “I am not allowed to buy new camera unless I have owned this camera for 3 years.” Re-read old reviews of your camera: Re-live the excitement you had for the camera you already own. Imagine losing your camera: If tomorrow you lost your camera (or if your camera was stolen from you), how would you feel? I bet you would appreciate the camera you own a lot more. Don’t own more than one camera and one lens: I think it is fine to own high-quality and expensive cameras. Just try not to own more than one at a time. Personally when I have owned more than one camera and lens in the past, I had no idea which camera to bring with me when I left my apartment. Psychologists call this “paralysis by analysis.” If you only have one camera and one lens, you know exactly what camera to bring with you. “My dream is that if you go out in the streets where you were born you see the streets like for the first time in your life even though you have been living there for 60 years.” - Anders Petersen Do you remember when you first picked up a camera, and weren’t disturbed by dogma, rules, constraints, or any other “theories” in photography? Do you remember the lightness that you would just roam the streets, and just took photos that interested you without any prejudice or self-criticism? Do you remember how excited it was to just play, like a child? In Zen Buddhism they call this approach “beginner’s mind.” When we begin any sort of pursuit, hobby, or art in life, we are unburdened. We see the world as fresh and full of opportunities. We are excited, nimble, fresh, and open-minded. We see possibilities, not obstructions. The problem is that the more experienced we become in photography (and life), we become jaded. Everything just seems to becoming boring. Nothing interests us anymore. You can live in the most interesting city in the world (Paris, Tokyo, New York) and after a while become bored of what you see. Follow Anders Petersen’s advice and hit the streets like it is the first time. Imagine that it is the first time you experienced it. Imagine what you would find interesting and unique. Imagine yourself like a tourist in your own city. Try switching things up. Walk around your city with a different route than you usually take. Perhaps take a short trip out of town, and come back to your city with new and refreshed eyes. Imagine yourself like an alien visiting from another planet. If you were an alien and visited your own city streets for the first time, what would you find interesting or unique? Don’t analyze your scenes too much when you’re shooting. Just photograph what you find interesting, and just click. Disregard what others think; just take photos like any good beginner would. Our emotions are highly variable: on some days we are super optimistic and think everything in life is perfect and super dandy. On other days we can feel pretty shitty and only feel doom and gloom. Personally even though I have a “perfect” life (traveling, teaching photography, meeting amazing people) I still suffer a lot of dissatisfaction in my life. I have financial worries, family issues, and personal issues. There are a lot of times I feel lost, confused, and frustrated. I don’t know what direction my life is going. Other times I have no idea what I am doing in photography and question myself, “Why do you even take photos? Nobody cares about your work. You suck. You will never be great.” Photography is one of the best forms of self-therapy. Don’t judge your emotions (whether negative or positive). Know that life is a roller-coaster; we will suffer dips and highs. When life is going downhill, the hill going up is just around the horizon. Similarly, when things are going well, remember that it won’t last. When I am feeling dark and moody, I find that shooting gritty black and white suits my mood. However when my life is feeling more positive and upbeat, I find myself shooting more happy, colorful, and saturated color. A photograph without emotion is dead. Avoid taking photos that are just purely compositional or design-oriented. Make street photos that open the doors of empathy to your viewer. "Too much choices will screw up your life. Work on one thing, then expand on your canvas.” - David Alan Harvey The problem with modern society is that we have too many choices. Do you remember the last time you went to the grocery store and wanted to get some breakfast cereal? Let’s say you wanted to get some wheat cereal. You go to the cereal aisle, and you see that there are 10 different brands for wheat cereal. Even worse, there are different flavors: sugar, chocolate, vanilla, blueberry, and strawberry. Even worse, there are some cereals loaded with probiotics, some with less sugar, and some that is advertised as “heart healthy.” Overwhelmed, you just pick up some of the chocolate wheat cereal, and you go home and the next morning you have a bowl of cereal. You are slightly disappointed with your choice, and you kick yourself for not getting the sugar variety. This is what psychologists call “The Tyranny of Choice” (or “The Paradox of Choice”). When we have too many choices or options, we become overwhelmed. This causes more regret, and more stress. Having too many choices (for example, owning more than one camera and one lens) can be stressful. By having more choices as a photographer, you spend less time shooting, and more time and energy debating which camera, lens, or film to use. Ironically enough, having fewer options leads to less stress, and more inner-peace. When I used to own more than one lens, “decision fatigue” killed me. I would be out shooting, and constantly switch my lens from a 28mm to a 35mm to a 50mm. No lens was ever perfectly “ideal” for the situation I was shooting. In the past I also shot with a Sigma 18-200mm (which made me a really lazy photographer). If you only own one prime (non-zoom) lens, you learn how to work within the boundaries of your focal length. If your 35mm can’t fit in a whole body shot of your subject, perhaps you can focus on just their face or hands. “Creative constraints” force you to make more intriguing and interesting images. Many masters of street photography have followed the philosophy of “one camera, one lens.” Henri Cartier-Bresson made the majority of his iconic images with his film Leica, 50mm, and black-and-white film. Alex Webb has stuck to mostly a film Leica, a 35mm lens, and Kodachrome color film. Daido Moriyama has stuck with point-and-shoot Ricoh GR cameras, 28mm, and have stayed consistent with grainy black and white look. Of course there are other great photographers like Todd Hido who have used multiple cameras, lenses, films, and formats and have made great work. However if you are a beginner, starting off with just one camera and one lens and sticking with it for a long time can help push you creatively. Try to figure out how you can start to eliminate options and choices from your photography (and life). Having more limitations will force you to be more creative, and set you free. In January 2013, I got the news that my grandfather passed away. I quickly boarded a plane, and only brought one camera and lens with me: the Ricoh GR1v (a point-and-shoot film camera with a 28mm lens). I also only brought 10 rolls of film (Neopan 400) and pushed the film to 1600. I set myself this limitation in terms of my gear and my goal was to document my grandfather’s funeral in a meaningful, present, and mindful way. By having this simple point-and-shoot camera, I was able to really focus on the experience of being there for my grandfather’s funeral. Because the camera is film, I couldn’t “chimp” and check my LCD screen after every photograph I took. I was truly present, and wasn’t distracted by my camera. I think this lack of distraction from my camera helped me create one of the most meaningful projects in my photography career: my “Grandfather” series. If you are a photographer that owns more than one camera and one lens, just bring one camera and one lens with you when you go out shooting. Or if you’re pursuing a certain photography project, do it all on one camera, one lens, and one film (or style of post-processing if you shoot digital). Focus on the “shooting process,” and less about the equipment and technical settings involved. “For me, capturing what I feel with my body is more important than the technicalities of photography. If the image is shaking, it’s OK, if it’s out of focus, it’s OK. Clarity isn’t what photography is about.” - Daido Moriyama One of the common mistakes a lot of photographers make is that they are too analytical when they shoot street photography. They forget the most important part of photography: photographing what you feel with your heart. Daido Moriyama is one of Japan’s most famous photographers who popularized the “stream-of-consciousness” style of photography. Not only that, but he popularized the radical “are, bure, boke” (grainy, blurry, out-of-focus) aesthetic, which rebelled against the photography at the time, which focused on making hyper-sharp images with fancy high-end cameras. What is "stream-of-consciousness" in photography you ask? Well, the concept is that your thoughts, emotions, and ideas are like a river or stream, flowing through your mind. You trust your intuition, instincts, and gut. When you’re shooting street photography, you just photograph what you find interesting, without any judgement, self-criticism, or frustration. You setup your camera with fully-auto settings, and just point-and-click. It is the purest form of “snapshot” photography, where you aren’t thinking like an “artist.” You are just like a child, exploring the world, and photographing what you find interesting. If you shoot with a “stream-of-consciousness,” realize that the majority of your shots won’t be very good. In-fact, you will make a lot of crappy, uninteresting, and boring photographs. However if you channel your emotions into your photos, they will become more personally meaningful to you. Furthermore, this feeling will transfer to the viewer. This makes the editing process so important. You need to always get a second opinion on your photos, and to see if other people get the same emotions from your photograph as you do. “Seeing is not enough; you have to feel what you photograph” - Andre Kertesz I shot this image in Saigon, Vietnam. I was at a bar, and I saw the mysterious mood and feeling of this man through a set of curtains. In terms of technical settings, I shot this image on a Fujifilm x100s, and set the camera to manual-focus, focused on the man, and just started to shoot away in “P” (program) mode (aperture set to auto, shutter-speed set to auto) at ISO 3200. I often use “P” mode when shooting digitally, because it helps me focus on composing the scene, framing, and “working the scene” (instead of fiddling around with my camera). I loved the expression of the man’s face, his sense of loneliness, and the mysteriousness of the place. I didn’t think too much about the composition and the framing, I just kept shooting what the scene felt like: dark, estranged, and lost. Afterwards when I shared the photo with my friends and other photographers I trusted, they told me that the emotion that I felt in this scene mirrored what they felt. The emotions you feel while shooting street photography won’t always translate to your viewers. However the more you shoot with your heart (and not with your brain), the more likely you are to translate what a scene feels like to your viewer. “Luck - or perhaps serendipity - plays a big role… But you never know what is going to happen. And what is most exciting is when the utterly unexpected happens, and you manage to be there at the right place at the right time - and push the shutter at the right moment. Most of the time it doesn’t work out that way. Street photography is 99.9% about failure.” - Alex Webb Street photography is all about failure. As Alex Webb said, “Street photography is 99.9% about failure.” Every time you click the shutter, there is only a .1% chance that you will make an interesting shot. The majority of the time, you might shoot an entire day, not get a single good shot, and feel disappointed and frustrated. Know that failure is a good thing. The more you fail, the more likely you are to succeed. As Thomas Edison once said: “If you want to increase your success rate, double your failure rate.”  You can control the effort, not the results. Meaning, you can control putting in 8 hours of shooting in one day, and how hard you work. What you can’t control is whether you get a good shot or not. In my street photography, I often found that the more I go out and bring my camera, the more “lucky” I get. When I have my camera with me, the more opportunities I see. Luck isn’t some magical thing that hits us like lightning. However luck favors the prepared. Be prepared by always having your camera with you, always observing your scenes and environment, and know that every once in a while, you will be at the “right place at the right time.” If you’re comfortable with your camera and skilled enough, you will also click the shutter at the right moment. When you fail to get the shot, don’t become discouraged. Rather, learn from your failures and mistakes. What caused you to miss the shot? Was it because your camera wasn’t setup properly? Was it because your camera was in your bag (and not in your hand)? Was it because you were too nervous and didn’t have the courage to click the shutter? Learn from your failures, and the closer you will become to mastering your photography. One of the mistakes that street photographers make is that they are afraid to click the shutter, fearing that they will take bad shots. Realize the more bad shots you take, the more likely you are to get a “keeper.” In this scene in Istanbul, I took 6 “bad” shots until I got lucky (boy jumping into the water) and got an interesting image next to this man. To succeed more, fail more. “It’s not just that that and that exists. It’s that that, that, that, and that all exist in the same frame. I’m always looking for something more. You take in too much; perhaps it becomes total chaos. I’m always playing along that line: adding something more, yet keeping it sort of chaos.” - Alex Webb The more experienced you get in street photography, the more sophisticated you will become. You might start getting bored with the images you make, and you want something more in your images. Alex Webb is famous for creating complex images, with multiple layers and colors while having minimal overlaps in his frame. His photos are bursting with life, energy, and subject-matter. His photos are on the border of chaotic, yet they still work. What Alex Webb does is he constantly looks for something more in the frame he can add, especially things in the background. As beginner street photographers, we become obsessed only what is in front of us, and we disregard the background. We don’t know that the background is often as important as the foreground. If you see a single-subject in the foreground, take the shot, but wait and be patient and look for “something more.” Perhaps somewhere to the right of the scene, you see an old lady about the enter the frame. And on the top-left of the scene, you might see a woman pushing a baby stroller into the frame. Try to frame the shot where you can balance the image by dispersing subjects in opposite sides of the frames. Also try to avoid creating overlaps in your images with your subjects by adding a little bit of white-space between them. But how do you know when a scene is “too busy”? It is often a matter of taste. What I try to find is “multiple stories” in a single scene, which keeps the viewer engaged and interested. Don’t just put extra subjects in the frame for the sake of it. Only add what you think is essential and will add something of value to the frame. “If you photograph for a long time, you get to understand such things as body language. I often do not look at people I photograph, especially afterwards. Also when I want a photo, I become somewhat fearless, and this helps a lot. There will always be someone who objects to being photographed, and when this happens you move on.” - Martin Parr As a street photographer, you want to learn how to master your body language. 90% of communication isn't verbal; we communicate through our facial expressions, body language, and hand gestures. If you want make strong images, Martin Parr explains the importance of getting close to your subject, and how difficult it is: "I go straight in very close to people and I do that because it’s the only way you can get the picture. You go right up to them. Even now, I don’t find it easy." - Martin Parr Even Martin Parr, who has been shooting street photography for decades still finds it difficult to get close to people and get the shot. To be “invisible” when shooting street photography, Martin Parr gets very close to his subjects by pretending to focus somewhere else: "I don’t announce it. I pretend to be focusing elsewhere. If you take someone’s photograph it is very difficult not to look at them just after. But it’s the one thing that gives the game away. I don’t try and hide what I’m doing - that would be folly." - Martin Parr Eye contact often makes a stronger street photograph, but also it makes it very obvious to your subject that you want to photograph them. So if you want to be invisible when shooting street photography, avoid eye contact. The less nervous and awkward body language you show, the less nervous and awkward your subjects will feel. Making eye contact with a stranger can be one of the most difficult and awkward things to do. However, the taboo against making eye contact with a stranger is simply a socially-constructed one. What is wrong about directing your eyes to a stranger? The only thing that is "wrong" is that people might feel that it is a threatening gesture, but in reality, you can always disarm wrong intentions via making eye contact, and then simply smiling. Here are two variations you can experiment with regarding eye contact: Variation #1: Don't make eye contact For this assignment, go up to a stranger very close (about 1 arm length away), and take a photograph of them. After you take a photograph, don't drop your camera. Keep it up to your face, and avoid making eye contact with your subject. Hold up your camera for 15 more seconds, and then drop it and move on. See how your subject responds. This assignment will teach you that if you pretend you shot something else (convincingly with your body language), nobody will assume otherwise. Variation #2: Make eye contact For this assignment, walk around the streets and find someone interesting. Stare at them until they make eye contact with you. Once they make eye contact with you, smile, wave, and say hello. Then with a big smile, give them a compliment and ask them to take their photograph. Ultimately, become comfortable making eye contact; this will make you truly fearless. For this image, you can see the powerful effect of having eye contact in your photographs. To me, the man looks like he is peering straight into your soul; with a death-stare, which is unforgettable to the viewer. How do you make memorable street photos? Tell convincing lies. The lie in this photograph is that it looks like a candid photograph, where I just took a photo of him without permission, and he is about to go up to me, and bash in my face. The truth? He was the sweetest guy ever, as you can see in the contact sheet: The photo is a lie. I crafted my own version of reality, rather than capturing what I saw before me. Ultimately I think it is less boring. In this scene, I didn't pretend like I was shooting something else. I was bold and make eye contact with my subject, and interacted with him. If I had never built up the confidence being able to make eye contact with strangers, I would have never been able to make this image. Switch it up in your street photography. Sometimes interact with your subjects and ask them not to smile. Other times shoot candid shots without permission. Shoot whatever suits your mood, and know that there isn't one "right" or "wrong" way to shoot. Follow what feels right for you, and forget the rest. “In those days Henri Cartier-Bresson limited us to lenses from 35 mm to 90 mm. When I showed him the photos he said, ‘brilliant René!’ I went outside and shouted ‘Hah!’ He heard me and said ‘what was that?’ I said, ‘nothing, never mind’. The lens I used was 180 mm - I never told him! At that point I broke loose from my mentor. I killed my mentor!” - Rene Burri Ironically enough even though this book is on learning from the masters of street photography, there are only so many “lessons” you an learn from the masters before you need to “kill your master.” For example, when Rene Burri started to shoot photography in Magnum, Cartier-Bresson was one of his mentors and “masters.” He hugely admired Cartier-Bresson’s work, and therefore would follow his philosophies in not using telephoto lenses, not cropping, and not posing his subjects. Ironically enough one of Burri’s most famous image of silhouetted men in Brazil, he shot it with a 180mm (directly contradicting the rules of Cartier-Bresson). By “breaking the rules,” Burri was able to make one of his most iconic and memorable images. Remember that after learning from the masters, you need to know when to ignore them or when to go against their teachings. Consider the “masters” of street photography simply as mentors or guides. Don’t listen to them blindly, as one day you need to take off your training wheels and learn to ride on your own.