The Street Photographer’s Manual, by David Gibson

A few weeks ago, I wrote about pulling myself out of a rut. In particular, I doubted the value of grabbing a camera, getting out and about, and looking for things to photograph. My photography, I wrote, ought to function as an adjunct to something else: travel, life events, and so forth.

I’m not so sure I believe that anymore.

Every now and again, I find myself sitting on the couch mindlessly watching TV or staring into a device. When that happens, I try to stop what I’m doing, shut everything off, and pull a book off my shelf. An actual physical book, not an e-book.

The other night, I caught myself falling into a cyber-hypnosis. The book I happened to reach for was an old favorite: the new edition of The Street Photographer’s Manual by David Gibson.

When I need to shake things up, Gibson’s first-rate prose often tugs me out of the same ol’ same ol’ at least insofar as what I do with a camera is concerned. The Street Photographer’s Manual is full of thoughtful project ideas. Gibson also profiles of some of the best street photographers out there. A few of them are on my list of favorite photographers. It’s a great source of inspiration.

When I returned to Gibson’s book most recently, I was struck by the recurrence of one word: wandering.

It was the very first word Gibson used under the header for his introduction: “Wandering around with nothing particularly in mind to photograph may seem strange, but when that bit of magic happens, it becomes the most natural and wonderful thing to do” (p. 7).

Later in his introduction, Gibson offered more thoughts on the contradictory nature of conveying to someone “how to do” street photography in an unplanned yet structured way: “A paradox is always at play—being open to luck and just wandering, yet also absorbing and being consciously aware of the process” (p. 21).

One often finds events occurring in urban places. But those places themselves can be thought of as an event in a broader sense: “The whole of a city or town is an event itself, and most street photographers cover a lot of ground as they wander. The delight of wandering with no particular agenda is coming upon a gathering of people engaged in some sort of event. It’s unexpected, something that would be difficult to know about in advance perhaps” (p. 61).

On taking in quiet spaces: “Street photographers wander: they move in and out of busy and quiet. Most photographers instinctively gravitate towards busy streets because there might be ‘something going on’, but how many photographers have taken a better photograph on the way home from a busy event?” (p. 77).

And on the value of projects: “Projects can be the lifeblood of a street photographer, and several projects, some vague, others more advanced, in the photographer’s head give purpose to wandering on the street” (p. 168).

It’s ironic that I grabbed a camera and wandered around town less than five hours after I poo-pooed wandering around town. It took me a while to realize the value of that wandering: it took me ten days to post one product that came out of it. I suppose I’m a little slow in realizing that irony.

The next day, I found myself wandering around again. Rather than stay outside, I’ve been making a point to go inside shops. If I sense an opportunity, I’ll respectfully ask the shopkeeper if I might snap a photo or two. Not only is it an excuse for me to interact with others, but the light is often more interesting from inside.

David Gibson’s Street Photographer’s Manual helped me remember that sometimes the simple act of wandering can be a great opportunity for creativity.