The Eye of Eisenstaedt
January 15, 2025
Tags: Book Reports, Photography, Film Photography

Just the other day, I came across a House and Garden article which offered some views into the studio of British photojournalist Martin Parr. What caught my eye was a picture of his handwritten list of ten rules of photography, which apparently made a splash last September:
- Look and learn from other photographers.
- Identify what makes you like their images.
- Find a subject you feel strongly about.
- Select the images you like and understand why they are interesting.
- Do more like that.
- Keep shooting more images.
- Acknowledge you will mainly take failures.
- Get excited by what you have discovered.
- Don’t wish you could be a famous photographer.
- If you do, you will fail—wrong priorities.
Parr made this list of rules into a poster which is available for download.
Learning from other photographers, taking the time to articulate why their work has stopping power, culling one’s own work, identifying the elements that makes some photographs worthy of being singled out from the others, getting out there as much as you can, not being afraid to fail, and pursuing photography purely for the love of it: all of this resonates with me a great deal.

Parr’s list of ten rules reminded me of another photographer whose sage advice also gave me a great deal of food for thought. Since it’s been a while since I’ve done a book report on this blog, I thought it would be apropos that this report should be on a collection of tips and advice from Alfred Eisenstaedt (1898-1995), one of the pioneers of photojournalism.
In Eye of Eisenstaedt (1969), which I read for free via archive.org, this seminal photographer offers us a view into how he worked. Although he was active at a time when film was the only medium available to photographers, Eisenstaedt’s advice still has a great deal of value today. It’s a reminder that truly great photography is not a technical matter but instead one that requires other skills that are much harder to master.
Learning to Be a Photojournalist

The importance of close personal contact: On assignment to cover the fifteenth League of Nations Assembly in Geneva in 1933, Eisenstaedt found Nazi propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels sitting by himself on a folding chair on a lawn near the hotel. First, Eisenstaedt photographed him from a distance. The result was an image that showed him alone and aloof, but it lacked the stopping power that magazine editors demanded. Eisenstaedt soon had another opportunity:
Later I found him at the same table, surrounded by aids and bodyguards. Goebbels seemed so small, while his bodyguards were huge. I walked up close and photographed Goebbels. It was horrible. He looked up at me with an expression full of hate. The result, however, was a much stronger photograph... There is no substitute for close personal contact and involvement with a subject, no matter how unpleasant it may be (p. 42).
Getting close to your subject: “One of the discoveries I’d made, and which all good photojournalists must understand, is the power of a single detail to tell a story with great immediacy and impact.” While on assignment in Ethiopia, Eisenstaedt took a series of pictures depicting barefoot soldiers marching and standing at attention. “Intrigued by the bare feet beneath the puttees, I moved in close to show the legs of a single soldier... It wasn’t until I photographed the soles of the prone soldier’s feet, caked with mud, in a tight close-up... that I got what I felt was the strongest statement” (p. 50).
Establishing shots followed by close-ups: On the same assignment in Ethiopia, Eisenstaedt covered a scene in a public courtroom. He first took a wide-angle shot or “establishing shot,” as in motion pictures, to establish the entire scene. He next moved in closer to capture an image of the judge’s table. The strongest image he made was a close-up of the judge using a 90mm lens (pp. 52-53).
A Sense of Timing

Timing, anticipation, and luck: “A photographer needs a short-circuit between his brain and his fingertips. Things happen: sometimes expected, more often unexpected. You must be ready to catch the right split second, because if you miss, the picture may be gone forever.” First, Eisenstaedt considers timing. “Fast reflexes are partly inborn, but they can be developed through practice and experience.” In other words, you must know how to work the mechanics of your camera like second nature. Another element is luck. “Often I think I’ve had more luck than brains as a photographer.” His famous photograph of a sailor kissing a nurse on V-J Day is one instance of timing and luck:
I noticed a sailor coming my way. He was grabbing every female he could find and kissing them all—young girls and old ladies alike. Then I noticed the nurse, standing in that enormous crowd. I focused on her, and just as I’d hoped, the sailor came along, grabbed the nurse, and bent down to kiss her. Now if this girl hadn’t been a nurse, if she’d been dressed in dark clothes, I wouldn’t have had a picture. The contrast between her white dress and the sailor’s dark uniform gives the photograph its extra impact. Luck. But you do have to keep your eyes open, too! (p. 56).
Another instance of timing, anticipation, and luck: Eisenstaedt remembered an assignment covering the University of Michigan marching band in 1950. He photographed all the usual things: formations, rehearsals, and so forth. He happened to be walking around campus when he saw a drum major strutting alone. A group of children who were playing near a wall noticed him, ran behind him, and started mimicking him. “It happened so very quickly I barely had time to focus, but I think it turned out to be the best, and certainly the most amusing, picture of the entire assignment. The moral is, you have to be there. If you’re there—and react fast enough—it’s okay” (pp. 60-61).

Work fast and don't worry about exposure settings: “Often you must work very fast, even though conditions are far from ideal. If you see something exciting you must act fast. Don’t stop to worry about the light or the exposure. If you do, you may lose the picture forever” (p. 75).
A Feeling for Light
A photographer's way of seeing: How an individual may see the surrounding world while going about daily life is decidedly different from how a photographer sees:
It involves an awareness of things that a nonphotographer isn’t sensitive to. Take light. It’s the basic energy that produces an image on a piece of film. But it’s much more than that. Light, with all its infinite changes in quality, is very often what makes the picture, in terms of mood and atmosphere and emotion.
Eisenstaedt later went on to say:
Over the years, I’ve trained my eyes to be very, very aware of light. Even when I sit in a room and read, I subconsciously notice how the light changes when a cloud passes across the sun. When I’m location, I feel the light. Very often I’ll put my hand out and turn it, testing different positions to see if the light is favorable or not. You must be observant and train yourself until this awareness becomes habitual and automatic. Then you can make decisions, the right decisions, in a jiffy (p. 77).
People
You must like people and have them like you: Taking photographs of people is not primarily a technical matter. It’s one that requires the right kind of personal chemistry:
To succeed you must like people and have them like and trust you in return. If you’re impatient, think only of getting things right for yourself, and push your subject around, you’ll have trouble. Instead, you must be a psychologist. You have to be able to sense very quickly when you meet someone whether you can backslap him right away and call him by his first name or whether to be reserved and informal (p. 94).
Talk to people and put them at ease: Eisenstaedt offers some helpful tactics to put people at ease:
You must talk to people, put them at their ease, and help them forget, at least momentarily, that you are a photographer. This is why I often prefer to use a tripod for my portrait work. If I keep putting my camera up and down to my eye, this is distracting. If I put my camera on a tripod, and focus, then I’m free to talk directly to my subject, using a cable release to take the picture. For me, this method often gives the most natural, relaxed pictures (p. 95).
Photograph people in their own environments: Another thing to consider when photographing people especially for portraiture is to place them where they are most comfortable:
Most of the pictures of people I take are in their own environments... As a photographer you sometimes must direct your subjects because they are otherwise at a lost as to what to do. The important thing is to understand what they would do naturally and get them to do that. You don’t force them into any unnatural situation or activity (p. 107).


Observe people and their movements and anticipate their actions: “You must observe the patterns of movement and expression of your subject. Then you often can anticipate a revealing, meaningful moment and be ready for it when it comes. To be the great anticipator: that’s a qualification for success in this kind of photography” (p. 112).
The Discovering Eye
Not gear but your eye: Eisenstaedt reminds us that photographic equipment isn’t the most important element for success. Rather it’s one’s eye:
Many people have strange ideas about how a photographer works. I’ve met many amateurs in my travels. Often they suspect it’s all a matter of tricks, that pictures are created by special lenses, filters, and fancy equipment, or that it’s all done in the darkroom by manipulation. They don’t believe me when I explain with what simple means most of my photographs were taken.
If he would have been limited to just one camera and lens, Eisenstaedt would have chosen a 35mm rangefinder camera, a 35mm lens, and a handful of other pieces of gear that would all fit in one bag. “It would be sufficient, really, for most of the work I do.” But again, the gear isn’t the most important thing. “Far more important are your eyes, your brain, and your nervous system. What you see and how quickly you can respond to it—these are the qualities that make a photographer” (p. 123).
You can find good pictures anywhere: “No matter where you live or travel there are good pictures. I keep looking and shooting all the time, not just on the job but between assignments, on weekends, and during vacation. Some of the photographs which have pleased me most were done just for the hell of it.” At bottom, “it’s really a matter of observing..., of being constantly alert to the sudden unexpectedness of life, which so often provides you with your best opportunities” (p. 123).
Don't hesitate—act immediately: Don’t worry about technical concerns or camera settings but instead about getting the shot:
If you come upon something you like, don’t hesitate—act immediately. Don’t worry about equipment, lenses, or exact exposure readings. There usually isn’t time. Whatever lens you happen to have on your camera, fine: do everything you can with that. Shoot first; then, if there’s time, try variations. I’m convinced a good photographer can make beautiful pictures anywhere with the simplest of equipment (p. 124).
You have to see things first: “People sometimes ask me, ‘When you go off on an assignment, what do you have in mind?’ The truth is, unless the briefing from the editors is very specific, I don’t usually know. I may have nothing consciously in mind. I have to see things first. You never know what you’ll discover” (p. 128).
Good pictures are everwhere: “Good pictures are under our noses, everywhere, all the time. The photographer learns to see things other people overlook” (p. 134).
Candid Photography
Minimal gear, minimal fuss: “The secret of true candid photography is simple: not too much equipment, not too much fuss” (p. 160).

Suggested technique for capturing a candid: Eisenstaedt offers some helpful tips for candid people photography:
Don’t put the camera up to your eye and shoot right away. Go about things easily. Don’t stare at your subject. Sit for a while and seem disinterested. Then pick up your camera and swing it past your subject as if you were going to take a picture of something else. As you swing the camera by, focus. (Or focus on some object that is the same distance from you as your subject.) After a time people will forget you’re there. Then, very casually, you can pick up the camera again and swing past your subject, stopping just long enough to take your shot. I prefer a rangefinder camera for this kind of shooting because the shutter is quieter than a single-lens reflex.
He adds that a telephoto lens can also help “because it lets you shoot from a distance” (p. 160).
Most people are more concerned about themselves than you: When your subject is people you don’t know, it’s natural to feel anxious about yourself. But Eisenstaedt reminds us not to worry:
As photographers we sometimes tend to be egotistical and self-conscious. In making candid photographs, however, you take advantage of the fact that most people are much more interested in their personal problems and activities than they are in you as a photographer. If you approach them softly, unobtrusively, it is amazing what you can accomplish (p. 175).
React fast: Again, a sense of quickness is key:
When you are shooting candid photographs you don’t always have the time or opportunity to worry about refinements in composition or lighting. However, you can train yourself to be aware of these qualities so that you respond almost automatically... Pictures, beautiful pictures, appear spontaneously. The photographer’s eye recognizes them. If you are quick enough, you catch the moment before it dissolves forever (p. 176).
Photographing Children
Be and act at their level: “I love to photograph children. They are sometimes exasperating, but almost always fun, and they do unexpected, wonderful things. You can’t be stiff and remote with children; you have to loosen up and become one of them... I just let myself go, having as much fun as the children” (p. 182).

On Technique
Technique is a means to an end, not an end in itself: “Remember that technique is only a means to an end. It is not an end in itself. The technical aspects of photography are important, but too much preoccupation with mechanics is a common mistake that should be avoided” (p. 197).
Be completely familiar with your equipment: “In photography and photojournalism especially, speed is of the essence, and requires complete familiarity with your equipment. You cannot risk fumbling at the crucial moment. As with every other art, you have to practice and keep on practicing” (p. 198).
No darkroom tricks—just seeing the pictures on location and capturing them: Although this piece of advice may seem outdated in the digital age, I think it points to postproduction technique in general no matter where that technique is practiced—that is, in a darkroom or at one’s computer:
Next to equipment, many amateur photographers I talk to seem to be convinced that tricks in the darkroom are the secret of good photography. They look at me dubiously when I admit I usually don’t do my own developing and printing. I used to, and still do occasionally for my own satisfaction, but for my working assignments, it’s impossible; there just isn’t time. When I come back from a story the pictures have to be on the film. Maybe the tonal quality should be deepened, the contrast changed, or the prints cropped. But nothing can be added that isn’t already on the film. You have to see the pictures on location and capture them (p. 198).
On fully manual cameras with no meter: This has special resonance for me considering my long-term goal to shoot a film camera without the aid of a light meter: “Frequently I am asked why I do not use an automatic camera with a built-in meter. The answer is that, with a completely automatic camera, I would not have the free control over shutter speed and lens opening that I want for special effects or for handling difficult shooting situations” (p. 199).
Your eye and your ability to anticipate: “Ultimately, it is your eye for lighting, for color, for composition, for human interest that makes the real difference between a dramatic picture and a dull one. You must learn to anticipate situations and to operate the camera as if it were a part of yourself. With a photographer’s eye, you can accomplish much with the simplest of equipment” (p. 199).