Where We Come From by Batsceba Hardy

Where do I come from?

I've never felt like a Milanese.
I was born Italian in this city where my parents met, but I never even felt Italian.

As a child, I never understood the need to feel that belonged to a Nation. My grandmother was Viennese, and from her I learned everything important: to make cookies, to cook; to celebrate Christmas, to imagine, to read the stories. And when I studied the Five Days of Milan*, I did not know for whom I had to side.

I read Mark Twain's books, and I was on the Mississippi River, familiar with the smells and currents, and the beauty and the sadness of that mighty river. I was a Dakota on horseback in the sacred Black Hills of the American West, or a Sikh on the holy Ganges River at Varanasi in India.

I never felt like a female, and always thought of myself as a neutral being, probably someone else's dream.
If I had been born in this age, school authorities would have labeled me as 'different' with problems of gender and identity in general.

I am also dyslexic, yet in my youth this condition was not recognized and so teachers left me alone. This allowed me to grow and form my brain map. And become what I am (thanks to Viennese grandmother) a camouflaged neuro-diverse, without problems of gender, and happily resolved through creative expression.

But let's get back to the question: Where do I come from?
I come from the pastures of my sky, from the valleys of my dreams, from the high tides.

I have always lived in Milan, until one day I found myself in Berlin. And there I found the smells imagined in my childhood. The houses were familiar to me even though I had never lived in the German culture.
And that's where I started to photograph again (in the 1970s I was a professional photographer) and become a street photographer. To discover me in a place that was not mine and yet it was congenial to me.

Milan? For me there is a neighborhood, it spreads in an area, the one that I can walk without too much effort. My area ... where I was born raised and returned.
After all, for a person who has absolutely no sense of orientation, it is normal for the world to rotate in an area, whether it is in Milan, Berlin or Neverland.

*a major event in the Revolutionary Year of 1848 and the start of the First Italian War of Independence against Austrian

Leonardo and his Last Supper have always been familiar to me, I went to the elementary schools next to the church - Santa Maria Delle Grazie - where the fresco is found, and this is the stationery shop (always that) where I bought my black notebooks… — Leonardo and his Last Supper have always been familiar to me, I went to the elementary schools next to the church - Santa Maria Delle Grazie - where the fresco is found, and this is the stationery shop (always that) where I bought my black notebooks, I still remember the smell of ink...
**photo by Robert Bannister**

all_god_s_children_need_traveling_shoes_by_batsceba_dbqy32o-pre.jpg

walking through my neighborhood

I live near Sempione Park and Santa Maria Delle Grazie.
I can arrive in twenty minutes on foot to Piazza del Duomo. In ten minutes to City Life and Chinatown, in fifteen minutes to Brera and in twenty minutes to Centro Direzionale in Milan

dsc8929_when_the_light_creates_a_new_reality_by_batsceba_dcwaaze-pre.jpg

The tramway vehicles are a typical component of the Milanese landscape also due to the presence of the characteristic 'type 1928' trams (series 1500) built between 1928 and 1932 in 502 examples, of which 150 are still in circulation.

The risotto alla milanese (ris giald in Milanese dialect), is, together with the Milanese cutlet and panettone, the most typical and well-known dish in Milan

1 L broth of meat 320 g Carnaroli rice

2 sachets of saffron powder

saffron pistils
grated cheese (parmigiano) butter
onion
dry white wine

Duration: 30 minLevel: Easy Dose: 4 people

Chop 30 g of onion and sauté in a saucepan with a knob of butter, without coloring it. Add the rice and toast it for 2 minutes. Sfumatelo with half a glass of white wine.
Wet the rice with 2 ladles of boiling broth and cook for about 15-17 minutes, adding the rest of the stock as it dries. Halfway through cooking, dissolve the saffron powder in a ladleful of broth and add it to the rice. Whisk with 50 g of cheese and 80 g of butter. Let it rest for 2 minutes. Complete with saffron pistils before serving.

CITY LIFE

BERLIN

The city among the cities, that probably, historically speaking, embodies the most the eternal fracture between what's possible and what is not, what has been and what will be.

I don't think I'm essentially a street photographer. I guess Photography is just the way for me to express how I see things. It has something to do with a philosophical approach to reality. I have always had this way of observing reality, dwelling on details, on scenes that tell me something.
Early on in my life, I felt inspired by what was around me. Eventually, I got into street photography. It was a slow process. And this happened in a city that was not my hometown, where my view got released from all the parameters and preconceptions that you naturally develop in known places. What I perceived in that new urban landscape and became the ghost I kept freezing everywhere and in everyone’s face with my shots was an intense feeling of loneliness. As a photographer, I am already used to entering the world of loneliness because I must be able to become invisible. So I found myself breathing in my own loneliness and the solitude of those around me.

It is the distance between the photographer and the rest of the people that allows the photographer to notice what is overlooked and under-loved. I found this particular statement that confirms my thoughts: "...if love belongs to the poet, and fear to the novelist, then loneliness belongs to the photographer. To be a photographer is to willingly enter the world of the lonely because it is an artistic exercise in invisibility." - Hanya Yanagihara, Loneliness Belongs to the Photographer, The New Yorker.

The photographer feels and represents the loneliness of humanity.
This society is turning us into monads... and Street photographers are those who daily tell us about the loneliness of mankind through their shots. And that’s why words are superfluous in this realm. Only by looking at photographs we can understand this.

Looking in the glasses we see a world of souls

Montreal in winter by Charles Lafrance

Early Sunday morning a few weeks ago, I set out to shoot my favorite part of town: the famous south-side, simply know as “Old Montreal.”

The weather forecast that day was not very promising: an extreme blizzard with gusts of wind up to 90km/hr and a temperature of -34C.

You can make no claim about the Montreal experience, if you have not been through one of our winters.

The weather is brutally cold - yet beautiful at the same time.

I hoped to capture both conditions that day. As I arrived on location, the situation kept getting worse. I knew this would be a very rugged experience.

In any other setting, my aim as a street photographer would be to put my subject up front and maybe worry about composition. But the primary subject on that day was the storm and the city and then people. And yet hardly anyone was around that morning.

That day, I brought both my FujiX100F and my Nikon with some wide-angle lenses in hopes of showcasing the immensity of the architecture.

There are always cars everywhere in this part of Montreal - but, and on that day, there were hardly any.

Even though I had my X100F in my coat pocket, the shear force of the Artic wind resulted in snow on the viewfinder.

Although I managed to get this cleaned up, after a while I gave up and just aimed the camera as much as possible.

Soon both my cameras were frozen solid. I found a place to drink coffee and warm up. It took almost an hour for my gear to thaw and, by the time I returned outdoors, snow removal trucks were everywhere and people were out and about.

So much for the decisive moment, the magic was gone.

All photos from that cold, cold day were all taken in 75-minutes.

Charles Lafrance

The Streets of Bangkok by Michael Kennedy

At the end of Mark Twain’s masterpiece when Huck Finn wants to escape the civilizing influence of Aunt Sally, he “lights out for the Territory” - which is modern-day Oklahoma.

The Mississippi River was the backdrop to my misspent youth, and Huck Finn was my first important role model.

Now I’m a long way from home, and I’ve lived in Seoul for nearly a decade. When I want to escape the civilizing influence of one or two people who still want to change me, I “light out for Bangkok.”

Would Huck Finn approve? I reckon he might.

* * *

* * *

For me, a camera is a passport into other people’s worlds. I prefer the street for this-and-that reason, and some times for no reason at all. It just works for me. Too much introspection often provides no beneficial insights, and only makes me more neurotic than usual. Besides, to know thyself – as the ancient Greeks advised, only “plucks out the heart of my mystery.” Ask Hamlet.

I am drawn to Bangkok for all reasons – mostly because in this city, any thing is possible.

I’ve been in-and-out of Bangkok for a dozen years, and regard the Thai people as cool, and relaxed and, when there is a hustle –whether it’s a taxi driver-as-a tour guide, or a sidewalk entrepreneur offering sexual recreation, it’s all so easy-gong. A respectful: “No thanks,” and the scene disappears – unlike the hard sell one finds on Nathan Road in the Kowloon part of Hong Kong.

As a street photographer, I just want to be a socially acceptable voyeur – using my camera to document the human pageant with a minimum of judgment. I try to avoid interaction with the subjects I photograph – and if someone attempts to draw me into conversation in a foreign setting, I deflect this with: “No English.” And yet there are times when I find myself drifting across this line into Diane Arbus or Nan Goldin territory because I do have an affinity with the subject.

There are flights every evening of the week from both Seoul and Tokyo to Bangkok. By the time you clear immigration and find the hotel shuttle, and then check into your room, it is well into the Midnight hour – sometimes even a bit later.

Of course Bangkok is livelier at 2 a.m. than at 2 p.m. – and many neighborhoods are a little dubious regardless of time.

One evening in mid-June some years ago, I quickly surveyed the nocturnal landscape of Sukhumvit Soi #11 – my favorite neighborhood. After the requisite San Miguel Lite at a non-descript bar, I turned back for headquarters at the President Solitaire hotel.

As I passed a busy club, a dodgy Thai woman in her mid-30s blocked my path and made a bold inquiry. She put her hand between my legs and asked in slightly slurred English: “You want have fun?”

I understood the financial motive behind the question, though I wasn’t entirely confident of the woman’s gender – not in Bangkok, and not in the small hours.

I never answered the question – but, at my age, I welcome sexual harassment from interesting people. However, I wasn’t in the mood for a new acquaintance – and so I told this kind person:

“I must go now. I need to read The Bible.”

“I make you talk to God. I go with you.”

I went to my hotel room alone.

The next afternoon, I strolled to Sukhumvit Soi #4, a flashy yet seedy part of Bangkok about a mile from the Presidential Solitaire.

Bangkok is an interesting mix of first-class and low-class, and sometimes the examples are side-by-side. This particular neighborhood features the notorious Nana Plaza, where anything goes and the going starts around 5 p.m.

People barter and deal with each on the streets for sexual favors and perhaps for the empty gestures of paid, yet lengthier company. The legendary Miss Annie’s features hardened young prostitutes on display through a one-way mirror, primping and strutting for the buyers at this peculiar sex auction.

The spectacle of blatant, degrading capitalism proved too crass, so I moved quietly along the sidewalk of the main thoroughfare among the more conventional crowds of people.

Most seemed oppressively normal, escaping the drudgery of their ordinary jobs.

A few blocks away, I stopped at an imitative Starbuck’s on a Sukhumvit side street and bought an inexpensive drink to salvage a rag of pride; it was time to rest and I wanted an outdoor seat to briefly watch street hustlers one more time.

A coffin dodger stood close by with a small photo album of alluring prostitutes young enough to be his great-granddaughters. A friendly tuk-tuk driver also stood ready to lead willing victims to the neighborhood whorehouse; like sheep to slaughter and so many incorrigible human parasites jockeying for some trickle-down money.

For the uninitiated, a tuk-tuk is essentially a rickshaw with a small engine.

It seems that everyone in Bangkok has a perennially cash-strapped family in a remote village and this is the impetus for why so many people here sell themselves on the street.

As I disengaged from the sidewalk cafe, a peroxide princess sitting at a nearby table tried to strike a friendly conversation. A rough trade female companion, who looked like the daughter of Rosa Klebb, of From Russia with Love, just sat at the table and strongly exuded the L Word.

The peroxide princess extended her hand and introduced herself by some phony name. Allegedly, she was Russian and very glad to meet me.

“What is your name?” she asked.

“Dostoevsky,” I said. “Fyodor Dostoevsky.”

“Please, call me Ivanka,” she said, and smiled.

“My grandfather was Russian – from St. Petersburg,” I lied.

“I’m from St. Petersburg, too. It was our fate to meet in Bangkok.”

“I am sure you are right.”

“Fyodor, would you like to fuck me?”

“No. No, not really.”

“Fyodor, please. I will do everything for you.”

And she offered a litany of standard suggestions, plus some amusingly perverted ones, as well.

“For only $50 (1,500 baht).”

“It is lovely to meet you, but I must be going.”

“Fyodor, let’s go now. Where are you staying? Close by, I hope.”

“I really must go. I’ll think about your charming offer.”

“Fyodor, please. Let’s go to your place now. Only $50.”

“Perhaps later.”

“I’m so horny, I can’t wait.”

Meanwhile, I noticed that her L Word friend had a face with a certain cadaverous grace and seemed bored by these lowlife shenanigans for quick cash.

* * *

Late nearly every afternoon in mid-June a light, soft rain descends over Bangkok. Allegedly, this is monsoon season yet the weather doesn’t correspond to a deluge of water, so much as the quick showers that affect the Mogollon Mountain range of southwestern New Mexico in midsummer.

After the rain abates everything feels washed and clean once more, pedestrians gradually re-appear and wander along Soi #11, which is soon crowded with motorbikes, tuk-tuks and taxis. The traditional food vendors with their impromptu carts remained a permanent fixture, regardless of weather – only to be joined in early evening by the literal makeshift restaurants that setup shop on the sidewalk where space allows.

From Seoul-to-Bangkok, the sub-culture of street food is evident in both the morning and the evening. In Seoul, it’s not as lively as the southern part of the Orient (Hong Kong and Manila), but comes on strong by 4 p.m. or so. In a place like Bangkok, the heat keeps vendors off the streets until around 7:30 p.m. …. maybe 8 p.m.

What I’ve noticed in both Seoul and Bangkok is that the vendors are family members, with the couples playing traditional roles; the wife takes the orders and handles the money, and the husband preps and cooks the food … while the son or daughter fill in the gaps.

Yet in Bangkok, husbands are not as visible in the operation - and the women, if they are married, do the lion’s share of all the work.

What’s also interesting in both cities is that the vendors get their carts out of sight during the off-hours … usually on some side-street that is blocks from their set-up for pedestrians, which is always in the same spot, time after time, year after year. This suggests that there is an honor system in place - and no one tampers with your cart - your mobile restaurant.

One night my favorite vendor for sweet-and-sour pork was on one side of the street. He had already setup his cart and the odd tables and the cheap plastic chairs on the side of Soi #11. The food is always good, and for 100 baht (about $3), including a cold can of Coca-Cola, I’m squared away for the evening – except for maybe some beef sotay from another cart that specializes in this tasty snack.

When I was at the “sidewalk” café, the entertainment value from the spectacle of humanity was ideal.

Everyone in the world seemed to traverse Soi #11, and yet this side street hardly compared to busier neighborhoods in Bangkok. Conventional couples passed by, a husband and wife who share any easy familiarity; young couples in their mid-20s in a pointless hurry; the older Western man and the younger Thai woman who had just left a trendy bar after negotiations for pleasurable company.

Occasionally, a bedraggled Hindu man wandered by with a fake Rolex and made a half-hearted sales pitch. On one side of the street, some passive women nearing their early-to-mid 30s sat in uniforms to offer legitimate massages. On the opposite side were more aggressive women in their mid-to-late 20s wearing casual apparel; beckoning and cajoling single white men to enjoy dubious oil massages in dimly lit quarters lacking any ambiance.

I liked it there on Soi #11. I liked the throng of people as they mixed in a tropical climate. I liked feeling that I was in the middle of a Somerset Maugham short story.

As I threaded my way through the mass of people clogging the sidewalk, mostly Arabs with their wives waddling behind in their full-length black bondage costumes (the Iranian females seem to wear a partial metal covering over their faces … suggestive of muzzled dogs), I couldn’t help but notice other vendors who sold boxes of Viagra and realistic wooden dildos.

I was shocked … simply shocked by this flagrant display of decadence and debauchery.

Off to the side, at the beginning of a cul-du-sac that leads to several popular dens of iniquity, was the Russian whore I encountered days before – in the very same spot. Nothing had changed … open for business, you might say.

Ivanka tried to gain my attention with some degenerate ideas, yet I was deeply offended that she didn’t recognize me as her old friend, Fyodor. I was just a wallet with legs.

I denied her three times, and Ivanka was either impervious to rejection or drugged, or lobotomized. I’m sure Boris, her pimp, was nearby.

On my last day in Bangkok that summer, I walked down Soi #11 to a money exchange. The young woman working as a cashier soon asked:

1) How long have you been in Bangkok?

2) Are you here by yourself?

I just wanted to cash-in my Thai baht for U.S. dollars. Yet I knew she was a free-lancer, and all I had to do was ask for her name and phone number, and she would have been in my hotel room later that night – for a reasonable price.

So it goes in Bangkok.

Where We Come From by Robert Bannister

Yorkshire Folk

‘Opinionated and say it how it is’……

Naked, screaming and dragged out into a place they call ‘Yorkshire’

I have not always lived here, but they say “you can take the boy out of Yorkshire, but you cannot take the Yorkshire out of the boy”

I think there is a lot in that saying, like the Barmy Army chant “where we come from”

Yorkshire is a vast county in England that splits up into: North, South, West and East Yorkshire. With a language pieced together from many years of fighting between tribes from around the world and then in the lulls trying to communicate: Celtic, Saxons, Romans, Germanic, Vikings in no particular order have all tried to communicate at one time or other.

Doncaster South Yorkshire The Place Of My Birth

“Eh up! Ows tha doin?”

Roughly translates to “ Hello! How are you?”

The architecture of course reflects the many changing occupations and characters that have come and gone. Yorkshire is as diverse as it is beautiful, stretching across the Dales and moors to the sea.

From Skipton to Whitby, the tales are many and well worth a visit.

This was once the industrial heartland of mining and all things ‘Ecki thump’ but has long since given way to tourism, farming and all things commercial.

I live outside a small port town called Goole in East Yorkshire which has basked in former glories like many. As everywhere though, the remnants and ghosts still remain:Flat caps, Whippets, pigeons lofts, tweed, Yorkshire pudding and damned fine ales can still be found.

East Yorkshire

With a camera you can come away with images that portray the back streets and hardships of old to the modern grandeur that is today.

‘Yorkshire Folk’ love them or hate them, they will not care….

South Yorkshire

Ingredients and how to make Yorkshire Pudding

100g/3½oz plain flour
¼ tsp salt
3 large free-range eggs
225ml/8fl oz milk and water, mainly water
4 tbsp sunflower oil

Method

Preheat the oven to 220C/200C Fan/Gas 7.

Mix the flour and salt together in a bowl and make a well in the centre. Add the eggs and a little of the milk. Whisk until smooth, then gradually add the remaining milk. This can be done with a wooden spoon, but is easier with an electric hand-held whisk. Pour the mixture into a jug. Make sure the mixture is aerated with bubbles. Allow the mix to rest.

Measure a teaspoon of oil into each hole of a 12-bun tray, or a tablespoonful into each hole of a 4-hole tin, or 3 tablespoons into a roasting tin. Transfer to the oven for 5 minutes, or until the oil is piping hot.

Carefully remove from the oven and pour the batter equally between the holes or the tin. Return the batter quickly to the oven and cook for 20–25 minutes (35 if making the Yorkshire pudding in the roasting tin), or until golden-brown and well-risen. Serve immediately

Note: during the wars, sawdust was used to bulk up the flour mix

West Yorkshire

One of my great influences in street was a man that was born in Headingley, Leeds, called Frank Meadow Sutcliffe.

Born in 1853 and died in the May of 1941.

Frank predominantly photographed life around the Whitby area whilst living in Sleights, North Yorkshire. He was a rare breed that was given the highest esteemed honour of being made honorary fellowship of the Royal Photographic Society in 1935 whereby his photography was recognised as art. His work was displayed in galleries across the world between 1880 to 1894 in New York, Tokyo, Berlin, Paris, Chicago, and Vienna.

The amazing ingenuity about Frank’s photos were the natural candid feel that we so yearn for today. Of course the images were carefully coordinated due to the slow Collodion wet plate process but the candid street ethos was indeed created.

In the early 1900’s Frank Sutcliffe was given a Kodak film camera which was at the time poorer quality but provided the ease to move freely from street scene to street scene.

North Yorkshire

Between The Cracks by Gerri McLaughlin

I often wonder how many people pass through the Bahnhof SBB every day. I'm there a lot and so too, it seems, are many citizens of the Basel area. It's been one of my main street shooting spots for several years now.

The design of the station lends itself to good contrasty-light situations that can be dramatic on a sunny day. Everyone seems to get through the station at one point or another and, as with all main stations, it has its "regulars." I see them ebb and flow and disappear through the lens; sometimes they return, sometimes not. I always hope that it got better.

Over the years, I have photographed and had contact with the men and women who seem to live in-and-around the station. It became a series of pictures called Between The Cracks. I chose this title, as it seemed to me, based on conversations with different people, that it’s not so difficult to slip between the cracks of society, and end up in the street.

Main stations attract a mixed bag of inhabitants, drinkers, users, the newcomers, the old-timers, the latest raft of refugees, the lost and the lonely, real life Tom Waits songs waiting to be sung and having been all of those at one time or another the stories behind the photographs are not lost on me.

It's been the main inspiration for shooting there for half a decade; these are my themes, the search for a place called home, loneliness, addiction, separation and connection in modern life, human glitches and interactions.

In the words of Mr. Gilden: It's myself I'm shooting out there.

I’m not qualified to talk about the whys and wherefores of homelessness but anyone who has been in any of Europe’s major cities in the last decade can’t help but notice it’s on the rise.

The debate will go on whether or not this epidemic should be documented by Street Photographers and such.
I offer only my own opinion and sensitivity as a guide. I have mixed emotions about the subject that can change from day-to-day and shot-to-shot. Yet having been close to that edge in my own life, and being fortunate enough to return from that place, it’s certainly a theme I am unable to ignore.

I slip between the cracks

No one sees me anymore

I have become invisible,

Who will tell my story

If I want it known?

Who will remember

My greatness

When I am gone

Father, Brother,

Husband, Son?

But among the crowd of strangers

There are those who come

Mother, Sister,

Daughter, Wife?

They give of their small comfort,

When they have the courage

To slip between the cracks,

Behind the broken picture

I live and breathe

Until I am no more….

Malaga by Niklas Lindskog

To me, Malaga was so much more than tourism

"Why Malaga, just a bunch of tourists, eh?" My streetie friend, Jan Rockar, was critical of my choice for a January, 2017 street photography trip.

But those ten days in early January were so much more. My hopes and dreams about a Malaga trip turned out to come true. All of them. And I didn't even see that many tourists...

I needed to get away from the cold and darkness of winter in northern Sweden for a while and be able to enjoy life with exercise and great food, and I always liked Spanish food!

I was also convinced I could find some inspiration from modern art displayed in the city of Pablo Picasso's birth.

And last but not least, to do some streeting! Malaga is a city of 500 000 after all, there should be Spanish people around to photograph.

Q: And how did it turn out?

A: I’m glad you asked.

Obviously I was satisfied with all my expectations:

I was lucky with sunshine my entire stay and warmish temperatures.

I did four sessions at the gym, and a lot of walking.

But I didn't lose any weight, the food was that good!

The Picasso Museum, The Centre Pompidou, The CAC....wow! Modern art tends to get me inspired to create. And it worked this time too.

And wonderful street art everywhere! I did shoot some street photography.

You can see the results in this Progressive-Street feature story ...

All in all, a street photography trip with a big dose of mindfulness. Enjoying relaxation on the hotel terrace in the afternoon sun, throw in some strawberries, some wine, some olives and tomatoes. Breathing exercises on a pier a hundred meters out in the Mediterranean. Even the streeting is a bit slower and more thoughtful than my usual experiences.

To me, Malaga was so much more than tourism. A city very much alive.

People in Cars by Cheryl Atkins

waiting 2 4000.jpg — **People in Cars**

**by Cheryl Atkins**

My name is Cheryl Atkins.

I’m from Baltimore in the US and have been shooting street for almost thirteen years. I studied painting in art school and created very large expressionistic canvases.

After a long break I began to get the creative urge again.

My paintings required a lot of studio space and I had none. I remembered enjoying film photography while in school and thought I might give it a try again. No huge area required. I bought a Kodak EasyShare camera and moved on to digital from there. I had found my passion.

As an introvert and I have always been a people watcher, on the outside looking in. I like to quietly observe people in their everyday lives and find beauty in the mundane as well as the spectacular. The camera is a perfect tool for me because I can hide behind the lens, watch, wait and capture.

In my latest series entitled “People in Cars” I captured people their personal mobile environments. Shooting subjects in cars adds a different dimension to street photography. There is a steel barrier, one that says “This is my space and you’re not in it”. Some are hiding and feel as though they are invisible while in them. Others want to be seen and celebrate being photographed. It’s a very interesting dynamic.

@ Richard Kalvar

“In LA in 1970, photographer Mike Mandel took the idea of street photography and did something a little different with it. He carried his camera to an intersection near his home, and started to take candid photos of drivers going past.”

https://www.creativeboom.com/inspiration/people-in-cars/

I feel like a predator... by Mahesh Krishnamurthy

**I feel like a predator**

**Mahesh Krishnamurthy**

My name is Mahesh Krishnamurthy, I am 55 years old and grew up in India and Yemen. Now I live in Jakarta, Indonesia and work as a Business Advisory consultant.

I started photography to keep a record of my travels. I used to do a lot of cityscapes and photos of historical places.

After a few years, I started developing a fascination for capturing photos of people with weathered and tempered faces.

I suppose seeing photos taken by Bruce Gilden and Lee Jeffries helped me along.  

Photography for me is a meditative and relaxing hobby. Deeply satisfying to present the chaos of daily life in a way which seems orderly.

I feel like a predator when I am out shooting, and the process of identifying keepers at home on the laptop is fun.

Street portraiture – candid and otherwise - marked my entry into street photography. I have followed several workshops and lots of shooting on the streets.

Street photography is a very transient and momentary process. The street is a venue or stage and the people who are the actors constantly enter and exit a scene. The whole process is so dynamic and constantly changing that there is very little chance of building a relationship.

Street photography is very dynamic and it is hard to have an image in my mind. I never know what to expect when I go out into the street.

There are no preconceived notions or expectations. I do visit a lot of museums in Europe and North America with the hope of capturing geometrical compositions, and to quite an extent my hopes and expectations have been fulfilled. Increasingly, post-production only involves converting a photo from color to black and white.

Sometimes I use a bit of “burning” to neutralize highlights or dodging to open up shadows.

Any composition involving geometry and human gestures give me joy.

When a photo is “good one” or not for me... It is a gut feeling you develop over time – must say this is a work in progress.

I like capturing human gestures, and windows serve as a frame within a frame that help me isolate gestures.

I am not involved in projects. There are four-to-five broad areas of street photography that interest me: geometry, silhouettes, portraiture, gestures, layering and, when I get lucky, forced perspective. It is hard work to become good at layering and forced perspective – but hence it is the Holy Grail of present-day street photography. If any project comes up, it will involve windows/reflections and geometry for sure. My skills are a work in progress and so I see myself working to improve my craft over the next few years. This is going to be one long journey, and I see no end in sight.

I use these cameras: Canon 5D Mark III, Fujifilm XT-2 and Sony A7R-3. I shoot in color and convert to B&W. I am not good with flash.

The two Canon lenses I favor a lot are the 24-70mm and 70-200mm, the Fujifilm lenses are 23mm and 16-55mm. and for post-production, I use Lightroom, Nik Silver Efex Pro 2, and some Photoshop.

I used to spend 10-15 minutes in post-processing a photo in the past, but now maybe 2-3 minutes. I guess I’ve come to the conclusion that less is more.

Elliot Erwitt, Henri Cartier-Bresson, Steve McCurry, Robert Frank, Joseph Koudelka, Joe Meyerowitz, the layered photos of Indian legends Raghu Rai and Raghubir Singh, and last, but not least, the “characters” photographed by Bruce Gilden have influenced me.

The geometrical compositions of Bresson, the comical situations photographed by Elliot Erwitt, the gestures captured by Joel Meyerowitz, and the raw portraiture of Bruce Gilden, struck me.

Today lots of contemporary photographers, as street photography have evolved into something more than what the masters foresaw. The Vohra brothers of India, the Thai street photography collective, GMB Akash, Kaushal Parikh, Matt Stuart, Alex Webb, Tatsuo Suzuki, Antonio Ojeda, and a bunch of others whose names slip my mind.

Indonesian street photographer Ms Widya Sartika Amrin has been a great help in exploring the streets of Jakarta (Indonesia). I also learn a lot by contributing/participating in street photography groups on Facebook.

Books by Elliot Erwitt, Joel Meyerowitz, Henri Cartier-Bresson and Bruce Gilden have been a big early influence, but in the end walking the streets, keeping your eyes open and constantly taking pictures, is the best way to learn.

The children of Zanzibar by Anat Shushan

**The children**
**of Zanzibar**

**Anat Shushan**

When the thought of going to Zanzibar first came up, what I had in mind was white sandy beaches, turquoise colored water, palm trees and a perfect opportunity for a calm relaxing vacation.

A vacation in paradise.

Well, it was all there. All of that. What I wasn't ready for were the people of Zanzibar.

The children. There is something so different about this place. In the eyes of a western tourist, they don't have much. Very simple, sometime falling apart houses, very little material stuff, very simple cloths… but when you look dipper and move aside what your mind tells you to see, you see a whole different story.

I went to visit a couple of villages and walked around on the beach. There I met the children of Zanzibar. Their eyes will stay deep in my soul for good.

They have so little, but they know.

They know to appreciate what they have, they know to turn everything to a toy, to a game.

They have such purity, one that we have lost long ago. With no computers, no TV, no technology, it turns out that the world is their playground. I saw such happiness on their faces, something so true and deep.

I was so touched by them, by their hugs and smiles, that I couldn't help crying. Not because I was sad, but because they touched my soul in such a deep place.

So I spent 8 days in paradise. With white sandy beaches, turquoise water and palm trees.

But what I came home with was so much more than that. Something that stayed with me since then.

For me, it was a life changing journey. A journey that reminded me to love, to appreciate and to always look deeper than what the eyes see.

My name is Anat Shushan.

I'm 46 years old from Haifa, Israel.

Been a photographer for the past 30 years of my life.

I'm usually connected to B&W, that's how I see images in my head.

But in Zanzibar I couldn't resist the colors. The life.

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Behind the cocos by Jürgen Warschun

I’m a street photographer on an unnamed twenty million inhabitant island

by Jürgen Warschun

Okay, someone gave the island the name “Hispaniola”, but really nobody on this island would say something like “I live on Hispaniola island”, and nobody says “I’ve been on holiday to Hispaniola”. If there’s a name which is used by the locals, then it’s “Quisqueya”, the island’s name before Christopher Columbus arrived.

One part is the “la República Dominicana”. For many people it’s “the Dom Rep”, as shortened and spoof as this name is the knowledge about it. It’s meant to be a kind of paradise, with white beaches, fringed with coconut palms.

The other part is “Ayití”, Haiti. A source of bad news. It’s usually presented as a kind of hell: if you’re not killed by cholera, landslides, earthquakes, or tornados, then you’ll probably be raped, kidnapped, tortured, or killed. A no go area.

This makes that I’m, more or less, the only street photographer around. The prejudices about the countries are bullshit. None of them is a paradise and none of them is hell. But beyond the all-inclusive holiday resorts it’s a “terra incognita”. Unknown terrain. Waiting to be discovered.

The advantage of being the only one is, certainly, being always “off the beaten track”. With some exceptions: Magnum photographers Bruce Gilden (“Haiti – Dreams and Nightmares”, 1997) and Alex Webb (“Under a grudging sun”, 1989) have been to Haiti.

I’ve been taking photos since about 2007. I came here in 2000, the original reason was windsurfing and kitesurfing. After having been here for a couple of years, I bought my first DSLR with long 70-200mm and 400mm telephoto lenses, to capture surfers, but later I was hooked by street photography and bought short lenses, 12mm, 16mm, 24mm, 35mm, 50mm.

There’s not a lot of sightseeing places on this island, but a wealth of color, light and shadows, and interesting, sometimes funny street scenery. A lot of imperfection and extemporization.

I shoot often in the early mornings, but at midday or even at night as well, on sunny days and in the rain on flooded streets. Stories and decisive moments as well as more abstract or poetic pictures. Both: black and white and color. All kind sof cams: DSLR, small system cams, or compacts. All kinds of lenses: (ultra) wide angle and tele, AF or MF lenses, or even lensbabies.

Street photography makes me look closer, think deeper about other’s and my own life. It’s often a kind of meditation to me.

The reason for combining two pictures to a diptych is that I'm just starting to print my pictures into a book, so I need a left and a right side.

Home: Cabarete, Dominican Republic

Age: 57

Profession: "Jack-of-all-trades"; I've often been teaching English, Spanish, Windsurfing, Photography; been a trainer for executives and sales staff

Hobby: of course: photography; and: gardening in our stunning tropical garden; and: motorbiking

Last book read: David Graeber: "Bullshit jobs. A theory."

Favorite quote: "Denken heißt Überschreiten" (Ernst Bloch) ... in English: "Thinking means crossing / exceeding / transcending"

Profile: https://500px.com/juergenwarschun

Favorite drink: "Jugo de chinola" (Passionfruit juice)

Facial Expressions

When we think of facial expressions, the name Bruce Gilden usually jumps to the fore, due to his outrageous street portraits. But of course, who wouldn’t pull a psycho killer face, when a flash explodes in front of you and a camera is poked under your nose.

Bruce, of course, is a master of what he does and a master on the streets of New York.

He uses expression to evoke thought and paint a thousand words.

We use facial expressions to tell a story when speaking, so it is a crucial part of a visual image. It helps to evoke a story or give the viewer at least some guidance.

Even a blank expression gives us irony and hopefully a smile.

In texting, we use emoticons for laughter, shock, horror, tears or embarrassment.

It’s hardly Classical Art, but we know how someone is feeling. It’s helps to give clarity and avoids situations being misconstrued. So, go ahead and give me those love hearts and make me smile.

The classic Street Photographers were always looking for an image that would hold your gaze, tell you a story or make you laugh. They usually left the tears to the photojournalist, to highlight the world’s plight.

One shocking image of a crying child, usually does the trick.

Of course, mere expressions without a street setting, can leave one feeling a little short changed. Recently, our group took the challenge of ‘Facial Expressions’ and responded brilliantly, by giving us tears of joy and stories to behold:

#The screaming child yearning for our attention,with its snotty nose and a shrill to burst the ear drums.

#Horrified looks as the show commences, the acting astounds.

#Passionate pleas for justice,as the demonstration unfolds.

#Groups infecting the masses with laughter and joy, as the story is told.

#A lick of the lens by a bulldog, to plant a heart warming smile upon our faces.

Please put in #facialexpressionchallenge to see the amazing images.

Below,and in order, are the five top images, as voted by the Progressive gang.

So, until the next challenge and from all of the gang, thank you and…….

Robert Bannister

Proof Read and cups of tea made by C.S Bannister

The colours of Amsterdam by Eric Strijbos

2016-07-19 13.04.06-2500kk-1.jpg — **The colours of Amsterdam**

**by Eric Strijbos**

Eric Strijbos: “I’m a fisher on the sea of solitude. It’s my element, but I know that if I get lost there it may kill me. In general my photographic works moves between absence, solitude and abundance.”

You can see the abundance pictures in this Amsterdam piece.

The colours of Amsterdam, what are they?

Are they the greens of Spring and Summer?

Are they prosaic browns and greys?

Is it red, white and blue? Which are not just the colour of the national flags on the herring stalls: If you look for them, they may pop up everywhere.

Or is it orange?

The colour of Amsterdam is money. Amsterdam is a merchant city. Capitalism was invented here. Paris and Milan have fashion, Lisbon has the Fado, but the soul of Amsterdam is sales.

Amsterdam is messy, dirty, gaudy, vulgar.

Amsterdam is also overload and clutter: the parked bicycles and cars, the countless signs, the texture of the brick walls and pavement itself, the graffiti… if you’re into a Zen-like less-is-more aesthetic, it’s not for you. There is too much of everything.

Of course, you can resign yourself to the blissfully overlooked beautiful corners, like many photographers have done before. Or you can go with the flow. On occasions I do the former – which need not concern us here – but for Street I do the latter. I dive into the thick of it. Streets which friends hate because of the crowds of tourists, the cheesy cheese shops, the nutella bars - they’re mine. Amsterdam has the urban pressure-cooker vibe that favours Street.

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Smoke and mirrors, baby. Being a born ‘Amsterdammer’ myself (I don’t live there anymore), the commercial aspect of the city fascinates me. Shop windows, people shopping, the billboards, the piles of stuff on the second-hand Waterlooplein market.

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Commerce often involves an element of make-believe, of being economical with the truth, if it doesn’t veer off into straight dishonesty and prostitution. The symbol of this the shopwindow: how it literally and figuratively reflects society. It’s a mirror. But just like a mirror may tell a brutal truth about ourselves, an illusionist may also use it to create an illusion. In a sense, the shop window does both too. In the beguiling reflections, our image becomes diffuse, to be replaced by bland dummies, design bags and identities that are internationally exchangeable. In our materialistic greed, our souls fade away.

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The medium is the message is the messenger. In this limbo of fading individuality and humanity – medium and message, form, style and content merge. The “I want it all and I want it now” is confronted by the ease and control of the DLSR and the unpretentiousness of the cellphone. These are reflections reflecting and reflecting about reflections. Single and double exposures. The images are reflections, mirror images and they are about mirrors and reflections. And just as the salesmen direct the attention and the gazes of the onlookers, so does the Street photographer. Palming and directing, they both do it. They’re both illusionists.

I’m not shooting you, I’m really looking at that window.

I am a camera,

looking at pictures of you.

I am a camera …

Smile!

Now you see me, now you don’t.

(Gentle Giant, ‘I am a camera.’)

But I’m really shooting you.

2017-04-08 15.48.34 IMG_0317-2500kk-1.jpg

Home: Utrecht, The Netherlands

Age: 57

Profession: Travel writer and photographer, translator

Calling in life: books and images

Hobby: books and images

Last book read: Jennifer Teege, “My Grandfather Would Have Shot Me”. I recommend it to anyone who comes from a family with a continental WWII history, even if you have grandfathers who are/were quite nice.

Last Accomplishment: I copy-edited the Dutch edition of the Xavier Barral book about Cas Oorthuys. Cas Oorthuys was one of my very early influences.

Favorite quote: “Photography will show you the way.” Joel Meyerowitz.

Profile: ericstrijbos.zenfolio.com

Favorite drink: beer

Understanding Cuba is quite complicated

On my first trip, I did not understand much of Cuba. I don’t speak Spanish, I hadn’t read up on the history of Cuba really, I just experienced and enjoyed Cuba but I left half of my heart there.

I feel there is great value in observing people in a place you don’t know, in feeling the place out. Especially as a street photographer.

I walk the streets, camera in my hand, and I just take it all in as it presents itself to me. I observe closely, I submerge in my impressions and follow my gut feeling. To me this is heaven on earth. And it helps me to not speak the language because Cubans are immensely warm and friendly people and will always make contact with you, especially of course with someone who travels “alone”, but once they realized that I do not speak Spanish they kind of forgot about me. They let me hang around without paying much attention to me.

The situation I love the most: I am part of what is going on and at the same time I am the observer…

To give you an idea of Cuban hospitality: when I was in Cienfuegos, one day I got up very early and walked from my house to the main local sightseeing spot, the Punta Negra. On my way back, it was around ten a.m., I felt I really needed a coffee.

So I saw this community center that was obviously open already. I went in, asked for coffee and was told I should kindly wait a few minutes, they would start the machine and make me some.

So I went outside and looked around and saw a terrace with many tables and chairs, a music system and some empty space near the speakers that could easily be used as a dancefloor.

And since things are generally slow in Cuba it is often a good idea to just sit down and wait to see what happens. And that is what I did. I had my coffee there and then observed people coming in and taking to the tables.

They looked at me and I saw the question marks in their faces but no one approached me. I took photos of them, smiled and generally felt very good about being in the midst of this … whatever… it turned out later that this was a company event.

The company rewarded the best workers with food and certificates. And then came the point when the dancefloor was opened.

I danced to a song, and that was of course a bit of a surprise (as I wasn’t even invited in the first place). However, it also broke the ice, and we had a great party after that! I was invited to eat and drink with them and we had a ball dancing together (and at one point we even had a little Cuban-German dance battle, it was so much fun).

To imagine the same situation in Germany… I would not have lasted five minutes before someone would have asked me about why I was taking photos and told me that it was a closed event and I would have to leave.

Boy Jeconiah, the master of juxtapositions

Boy Jeconiah: On the Streets of Jakarta

researched by Michael Kennedy

The intent of street photographers varies, yet a central motif is the authentic depiction of people in all their strength and vulnerability - without contrivance.

Ideally, this pursuit of decisive moments from the streets of New Delhi-to-New York City reminds us that differences in race, heritage and language should never be an impediment to respect and dignity, compassion and tolerance.

Boy Jeconiah documents the streets of Jakarta, and he does so admirably.

Many people may not realize that Indonesia is the world’s fourth largest country in the world, based on population. Jakarta is the nation’s capital, and sits on the northwest coast of Java. The city of 10 million people is historically a mix of cultures: Javanese, Malay, Chinese, Arab, Indian and European.

In other words, Jakarta is a happening place with a vibrant street life - and Jeconiah is in an ideal setting for his style of photography.

The 45-year-old primary school art teacher recognized his affinity with street photography five-years-ago.

“I could no longer deny my interest in expressing life on the street with a camera,” Jeconiah said. “Photography for me is a way to have fun, enjoy life, get to know new people … and eliminate boredom.”

For Jeconiah, there’s also the matter of reflecting the reality of the streets without pretense.

“The stories on the street are all beautiful,” Jeconiah said. “I want my photographs to suggest the idea of looking at different chapters in people’s lives.”

Jeconiah has not given up his day job as an art teacher, but photography is a hobby that is assuming more and more prominence in his life.

So many street photographers attribute the influence of Henri Cartier-Bresson - and with good reason. Jeconiah is no different. However, he is also quick to recognize his father as the most significant influence in his life. And his children are a close second for him. Family is very important to Jeconiah.

“I have not really paid any serious attention to coffee table book collections of other photographers,” Jeconiah said. “I just do what I do, and try to use my camera to show the different ways people go about their lives.”

When Jeconiah steps away from teaching duties to pursue street photography, he relies on either a Sony or Olympus camera.

Like all street photographers, Jeconoah is open for suggestions when he’s in the field, preferring spontaneity to contrivance. Yet he also knows that some times the light is the dominate factor in the composition, and it’s a matter of anticipating when “actors” just naturally step into the scene and hit their marks for the discrete street photographer.

“My choice of B&W or color,” Jeconiah said, “is a case-by-case matter. Some times B&W is the perfect rendition; other times the image demands color. It depends on the story I want to tell.”

For post-production, Jeconiah works fast and relies on software from his cell phone - such as Snapseed. Some times he uses Lightroom.

“I like to keep things simple,” Jeconiah said. “My approach only takes a few minutes, nothing complicated.”

Jeconiah is passionate about street photography, but this only explains one facet of his character. First and foremost, he is a teacher.

“I’m not working on any photography projects,” Jeconiah said. “Street photography is a great hobby for me. My biggest project is to educate my students to be good people, to make a good life for themselves … for their families, and for our country.”

Takanori Tomimatsu: On the Streets of Tokyo

researched by Michael Kennedy

The spontaneous eloquence of a street photographer who masters the unexpected inspires our appreciation for the mysteries of life.

For Tokyo-based Takanori Tomimatsu, the “unreality” of daily existence is his motivation.

At age 62, Tomimatsu doesn’t walk the wheel anymore. Gone are the days of being a Japanese salaryman, bound to a desk as another wage-slave, crammed into a tight-fitting subway car during rush-hour at Shinagawa Station, to go home to nearby Yachiyo City and repeat this drab cycle for 40-years, just to get a cheap watch as thanks from the company.

Now, Tomimatsu is free to pursue photography with passion - and the results speak volumes.

This much-delayed journey began in Tomimatsu’s hometown of Fukuoka City, on Kyushu, the southwestern most of Japan’s main islands. This is also the locale of Nagasaki, the second city obliterated by an American atomic bomb during World War II - which occurred on August 9, 1945.

Born 10-years after that horrific event, Tomimatsu became enamored with photography during high school.

“I started to take some photos of family, school friends, landscapes and buildings.” Tomimatsu said. “Until a little while ago, I’d been very reluctant to approach strangers with my camera. Suddenly, 40-years just flew by.”

Four years ago, at age 58, Tomimatsu shifted comfortably to street photography.

During the lengthy odyssey to reach this point, Tomimatsu followed a path familiar to self-taught photographers. And this means a lot of practice, mistakes and hard-won accomplishments. For most street photographers, it also means becoming acquainted with familiar past masters like Henri Cartier-Bresson and Robert Capa, who have influenced countless generations worldwide.

Behind the Gare Saint-Lazare, 1932. Henri Cartier-Bresson — Behind the Gare Saint-Lazare, 1932. Henri Cartier-Bresson

Yet for contemporary influences, Tomimatsu favors Magnum Photographers Bruce Gilden, Antoine d’Agate and Hiroji Kubota - plus Yoshiaki Kamishima.

Kubota and Kamishima may not be household names outside of Japan, yet the country has a thriving community of street photographers, that have a direct link to Daido Moriyama - if not for style, then at least for his audacity and fearlessness in the streets of Tokyo.

“When I’m in the role of street photographer,” Tomimatsu said, “I nearly always carry one camera body and one single manual focus lens with me. A light outfit makes it easier, and works well for taking photos on the street.”

Tomimatsu’s go-to cameras on the street are Leicas - both the M Monochrom/CCD and the SL (Type 601).

“I take my photos without popping up a viewfinder,” Tomimatsu said, “and without eye-contact, and without saying “hello”, and, more often than not, just in passing. Pedestrians move toward me; at the same time, I walk toward them. I’m interested in images that are not contrived or staged in any way … just people in their natural element.”

Tomimatsu admits that he has that buzz of excitement on the street, like most photographers drawn to this sub-genre, but that he may wait a few days - perhaps longer, for his emotions to settle down before he starts any post-production to edit his work.

“I need to cool down,” Tomimatsu said, “and try to be objective. When I’m in the moment, some times I think I’ve got the best shot, and nothing can top it. Later, I realize this is not really the case. Other material reflects much better quality.”

Tomimatsu’s post-production work-flow begins with Adobe Lightroom. For B&W, he turns to Silver Efex Pro 2 from Google’s Nik Collection to tweak things. When he works in color, it’s the same Lightroom approach, but any fine-tuning happens with Color Efex Pro 4.

“The Nik Collection through Google is free,” Tomimatsu said. “And the quality is excellent. I would be foolish not to use it.”

Check out more of Tomimatsu’s street photography at:

“Takanori Tomimatsu Photography”

https://www.takanoritomimatsu.com

Facebook : “Takanori Tomimatsu Photograpy"

https://www.facebook.com/TakanoriTomimatsuPhotography/

Instagram : “takanori_tomimatsu”

https://www.instagram.com/takanori_tomimatsu/

Norman Orly, a Canon man

I was born in 1953 in Tel Aviv of Romanian parents who sought refuge in Israel during World War II. We immigrated to Australia when I was six-years-old, and Hebrew was my first language. I have been very lucky in that there are so many beautiful and interesting places to photograph in Sydney.

My passion for photography is actually genetic. My paternal grandfather was a portrait photographer and my father was a keen amateur photographer. My father had a darkroom, and I can still smell the developing chemicals and feel the anticipation as the photo formed.

I received my first camera when I was 13 as a birthday present. All though I was always the kid with the camera, I did not pursue photography as a profession. I was actually in textile manufacturing for my whole career.

I am definitely a Canon man. I currently have a Canon EOS 5D Mark IV and was self-educated in aspects of photography and editing largely by YouTube and Adobe.

My favorite lenses are: EF24-70mm f2.8 and the EF70-200mm f2.8

Now at age 65, I can proudly say I am a street photographer. A friend, also a photographer, introduced me to this fantastic aspect six years ago and I have never looked back.

My path to street photography has been an adventurous road and came much later as I experimented with the different aspects of taking photos, from the inspiration of family photos, sunsets, macro flowers, portraits and events.

I particularly like the work of Annie Leibovitz. Her portraits really have the power of telling a story. I also look to Henri Cartier-Bresson who was a French humanist photographer considered a master of candid photography, and an early user of 35mm film. He is one of the pioneers of street photography, and viewed photography as capturing a decisive moment.

I like taking the expression on people’s faces - as if looking into their soul. I like their charisma. Has their life been good to them? Have they gone through horrible trauma in their country of birth? A lived-in face always reflects a tale to be told.

Wake up and Smell the Coffee 3 (1 of 1).jpeg

My idea of a good weekend is to spend Saturday taking photos, usually walking 18 kms from place-to-place, and then to the other fun process …editing.

For post-production, I rely on both Adobe Lightroom CC and Nik’s Silver EfexPro2.

I could spend the rest of the weekend editing (if my wife would let me!). What I look for in a photo is: sharpness, clarity and light. I like to name the photo as a way of telling a story. I mainly shoot in B&W because this genre it’s abstract and shows the depth of the image.

My ultimate goal is to go on a Safari in South Africa, and I hope to fulfill this wish in my retirement years.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/129168821@N07/
https://www.facebook.com/norman.orly

https://www.instagram.com/normanorly/

Classic Assimilation

22 copia.jpg — **Classic Assimilation**

**Challenge compiled and presented**
**by Robert Bannister Batsceba Hardy**

When we look at classic street images, a lot of the time if someone asks what you like about an image, you probably will not even know.

You will pause, study and be drawn into someone else’s world, click like maybe.

You may be inspired and decide you want to create that sort of impact or emotion.

Indeed when we share with each other in Progressive Street, we hope for good feedback and hope to inspire others.

It is always lovely to be in a gallery for people to appreciate. But more importantly we want to know why people like our images.

Let’s be honest, sometimes we are not sure ourselves why it works. Then someone may pop up and say wow! “ I love how layered this image is, wonderful perspective, the triangular connection”

Of course we respond, “yeah I knew that”! And of course a lot of the time we do.

Ever heard the phrase, “you have a great eye” Well the classic masters had that eye. An ability to see an image before taking it.

A lot were classically trained photographers born out of photo journalism, the likes of Robert Capa, who not only recorded horrific events as they unfolded, but every day moments in time.

They will have known through study, all the technical aspects of a good photograph, as we do from our passion. Don’t we?

Not all were learned scholars though, some were just given a camera and the rest is history. But they had a natural ability to get an image that incorporated all or a lot of those technical aspects.

Of course back in the day, taking analogue images in mono presented a whole heap of challenges, but they overcame them with punchy monos, depth, framing, diagonals, curves, perspective, focal points, rule of thirds, leading lines etc. We still love that BW nostalgia don’t we.

Then of course came along colour and all the challenges associated. Tonal matching, contrast, warm and cool, lighting and the direction of it.

Sound like a lot of similarities? And it did not end there, they did not have lightroom back in those days but they did retreat to the dark room.

Dodging and burning and exposing for best impact, who says processing is cheating?

Of course life is easier now, reviewing and dumping as we go, but we still have to recognise technical aspects to know what to dump.

Or do we? Maybe we shoot and dump on instinct. Of course there is a lot of luck involved capturing a split second moment. If your head was full of alignments you would never shoot. You must get all the technical aspects into your sub concious. Have your camera ready for the changing conditions.

We brought this challenge to you, to bring a sub concious to the fore that has existed since the start of photography.

The challenge was a little reminder of the methodology of the past masters. Many of the classic photographers used the hyperfocal distance method. Having the camera set so all they had to do was worry about who entered the scene. Of course this is a method that is being used to great effect today.

A name that came up time and again throughout the challenge was of course one of the great pioneers of street photography, Henri Cartier- Bresson. The image of the jumping man reflected in the water was most chosen for assimilation. Nothing special one might think, for clarity and technical perfection. But it strikes a chord with most people for the dynamics. There were some fantastic interpretations which you will see in the ensuing images.

I myself chose to assimilate the HCB image, “The Cyclist”, trying to recreate similar dynamics and movement. Once put together, it was an obvious fake and copy, but I could not help feeling a sense of nostalgia and classic thought process in creating.

A lot of course chose images that they have taken with past master images in mind. They were inspired and re-produced the same qualities for us to enjoy. Indeed one of the successes of the challenge.

Some just chose images that were similar to a past master shot. This proved that similar techniques and technical aspects for a good shot are still being used today. Again a success highlighted by the challenge.

Mark Guider paid tribute to Saul Leiter, who a few took inspiration from. Saul was a fashion photographer who was a master with the use of colour and framing. A glossy magazine style that we can all learn from, but the antithesis of HCB

Another master that popped up a few times and again totally different in style and technique was Vivian Maier. I have been inspired by her search of real people and connection. She was an enigma and mysterious woman that was ultimately a total natural photographer. A nanny most of her life, not seeking fame and fortune, but leaving a photographic legacy forever.

One could talk for hours about the myriad of masters that there have come and gone. Ultimately though the same technical aspects of a brilliant image will be found in their work. I can only suggest you study a few masters as this challenge has encouraged you to do.

Wolfgang Schreier, a master himself, whom we could have assimilated ourselves, submitted some brilliant images. Wolfgang, a life long professional from the analogue era converting now to a digital world.

Wolfgang Schreier commented and I am paraphrasing, Robert Frank and the like took inspiration from him. I have no reason to doubt it.

You will be able to read Wolfgang Schreier on analogue photography in progressive-street.com

Gerd Bonse, Doug Hilson and Don Trammell submitted a couple of images that were classic style, inspired by all the past masters. Brilliant and proof that the masters and classics are in our psyche.

Abra Asad must get a special mention for honouring both Batsceba Hardy and I, for submitting assimilation of our images. As indeed António Cvs asked the same question which was a great compliment. Batsceba Hardy responded by saying we were not classic photographers. We use the same technical qualities for a pleasing image and we have been around for a while, so maybe we are.

On that note, until the next challenge, please appreciate the outstanding submissions and enjoy!

Challenge compiled and presented by Robert Bannister/Batsceba Hardy

America by Gabi Ben Avrahahm

1 Gabi.jpg — **America**

**by Gabi Ben Avraham**

The American street is the heart of the Western civilization - the civilization of consumption. The individual is swallowed by an inflation of images, full of colors and symbols.

For Gabi Ben Avraham, the American street is the heart of the Western civilization - a civilization of consumption, and people are overwhelmed by a sensory overload of images, full of colors and symbols.

The 58-year-old street photographer from Tel Aviv is fascinated by how Americans are so naturally assimilated in this visual abundance. Their clothes are printed using the same images; sometimes they are tattooed right on their skins. People forfeit individuality for a set of symbols that flood reality, becoming another commodity manipulated by capitalists who laugh all the way to the offshore banks in the Cayman Islands - or follow the Russian oligarchs to Deutsche Bank in Berlin.

Perhaps the symbol that best reflects this consumer depravity is how much money is made by capitalists off the image of a dead communist: Che Guevara , the murderous Bolivian doctor who played side-kick to Fidel Castro in a revolution that only changed the old set of thugs for a new group - the same as every revolution.

Pop art has taken the commercial symbols out of context and redefined them as art. And the modern street takes Pop art, duplicates the images it created and reuses them as a design, commercial tool, that of the mass-media.

One can find Andy Warhol and Jeff Koons on posters and street signs, recycled and industrialized, downgraded into banal and common advertisement. Pop art has also turned the banal into art, yet the street takes art and returns it into the banal.

When the photographer separates the street from the spectator by means of the camera,

he continues the perpetual oscillation of art-industry- art. The industry, which has been redefined by Pop art as art, and has returned to the street to serve Capitalism, is redefined as art.

The street photographer invites the spectator to also take part in this endless conversion. The irony depicted in the chaining of quotations brings into awareness the whole system of popular culture industry.

Gabi Ben Avraham is an Israeli Photographer (58), lives in a quiet neighborhood of Tel Aviv, the city which he grew up in, has never left and is part of him and his hobby – photography. He works in a software company as IT manager.

Michael Kennedy

Human figures are assimilated in this visual abundance. Their clothes are printed using the same images; sometimes they are tattooed right on their skins. Man loses his individuality for a set of symbols flooding the reality in which he acts, thus becoming another product controlled by economic firms that thrive thanks to him.

Pop-art has taken the commercial representations out of their context and redefined them as art. The modern street takes Pop-art, duplicates the images it created and reuses them as a design, commercial tool, that of the mass-media. One can find Andy Warholl and Jeff Koons on posters and street signs, recycled and industrialized, downgraded into banal and common advertisement, stand or ad. Pop-art has turned the banal into art, but the street takes art and returns it into the banal.

When the photographer separates the street from the spectator by means of returned to the street to serve Capitalism, I the camera frame, he continues, ironically speaking, the perpetual oscillation art - industry - art. The industry, which has been redefined by Pop-art as art, and has s redefined as art.

The photographer invites the spectator to also take part in this endless conversion concept. The irony depicted in the chaining of quotations brings into awareness the whole system of popular culture industry.

Process Description: “The Street is not a Studio”

I am an Israeli-born street photographer presently living in Tel Aviv. After flirting with an initial fascination with photography and film cameras in the 1980's, I went on to pursue a career as an IT manager and put my love for the still image aside.

Fortunately, my interest never disappeared: while the passion lay dormant for decades, all it took was the gift of a camera from my wife to awaken my inclination towards photography again.

The Street is not a Studio. Sometimes I stand and wait for things to converge – a cyclist, a dancer, a child – moving along. Street Photography/Documentary is my favorite way of looking at the world.

My camera has become an integral part of me and I cannot imagine myself without it. Everywhere I go I take it with me thinking ‘maybe today will be my lucky day and I will take the photo of my life’. Via the camera lens I am constantly looking around me, searching for that ‘decisive’ moment that will never return, unless I catch it. When pushing the button, I try to make some sense, restore order to the chaotic scheme of things in the composition, tell the story behind the scene and frame a surrealistic moment. The components 'speak' with each other in a special dialogue, either by color (I prefer B&W, I add color only when it is meaningful), shape, or light. Capturing the elusive, special moment after which things will never be the same and making it eternal – that is my goal.

Forgotten, transparent people in urban surroundings are being granted their moment of grace. The shadows, fragile outlines, reflections within daily lives that are not noticed in the busy and thick urban landscape and sometimes are even crushed by it – these are precious to me. Those expressions and compositions are to be treasured before they are lost in time.

Reality is a sequence of never-ending scenes. The camera is an instrument to freeze the moment, isolate it and take it out of context. Alternative reality is the moment existing in the mind of its creator.

At a single click, the photographer tries to fill the insignificance around him with significance. The components "speak" with each other in a unique dialogue made of composition, color, light, shadow and shape.

The photographer creates a private and intimate hallucination and shares it with the viewer. The moment made eternal by the act of shooting is 'the decisive moment', a junction of reality and fiction, real and surreal. The photographer links the possible with the impossible and even though the moment fades, it is burnt in the memory of the viewer.

I shoot independently for a few years and teach in Street Photography workshops.

I am a member of "Thestreetcollective", http://www.thestreetcollective.com/ which was founded in 2013, and have since been documenting the occurrences of the streets from a personal perspective. The Collective’s aim is not only to encourage street photography in general, but to offer up and coming street photographers the opportunity to share projects with a larger audience.

Gabi Ben Avraham

Links:

http://www.gabibest.com/

http://www.facebook.com/Gabibabest http://www.gabibest.com/

http://www.thestreetcollective.com/gabi-ben-avraham/

https://www.flickr.com/photos/gabyba33/

https://www.facebook.com/Gabibabest

Chicago in 2015 by Niklas Lindskog

6 days of

shooting in

Chicago

by Niklas Lindskog

Chicago, the Second City … the Windy City … “My kind of town,” as Frank Sinatra so famously sang in 1964 … offers so much to the street photographer.

The beautiful elevated railway in The Loop, the elegance of the Magnificent Mile, many interesting neighborhoods like Chinatown, Chicago offers so much to the street photographer! Walking the streets, riding the trains, moments keep unfolding in front of my eyes and my camera. And the open air modern art installations like the Picasso sculpture and the Cloud Gate gave me the inspiration to create! In the autumn of 2015, I spent the last six days of a three week trip to the US streeting in Chicago. Traveling with my friends from work, Hans and Jan, we did see the sights and ate the signature Chicago hot dogs and the pizzas at Giordano's. But these moments, like when catching a Bulls game, always gives a chance to shoot some street as well.

This stay gave us a rainy Halloween, with costumed people hurrying through the wet streets and hiding in fast food restaurants and doorways. And then we went to the parade streets. While walking and shooting, many people were ready with a smile, a pose, a handshake and a hug when they saw my camera. But as I normally do in a carnival kind of situation, I tried to find the skeletons, the bloody and those in their funny dress, not walking the parade, but on the side, in the unexpected places.

The rain also drove me indoors, for one day I chose to go in the trains for my street work. The closeness, the wet clothes, the umbrellas, the damp wood of the elevated platforms.

On the following days, in great weather, I spent time chasing sunshine bouncing around skyscrapers in The Magnificent Mile, the Navy Pier and the Gold Coast. Always a favourite of mine, strong sun from several directions at once can give the photographs a studio flash feel, if you find the right spot.

Both daytime and at night, the marvelous elevated railway in The Loop, with its wood and cast iron structures was a wonderful place for streeting! The sunlight seeping through to the street level in geometric shapes during the day. And the deep shadows and electric lights of the city creating a dramatic stage for the theatre of life after dark. Giving me many ideas for compositions and many chances to catch quick moments passing by!

I hope you will enjoy my efforts!

One Day in Boston by Mark Guider

Street photography is fickle. Some days you come home with a basket full of jewels, and others you have nothing but rubbish.

Being skilled at the art increases your chances, yet sometimes it just isn't there. Location can make a difference, but it is no guarantee. A high density of diverse population is the ideal setting yet the experienced Streeter can find art anywhere. On rare occasions everything clicks and potential scenarios for art just roll out in front of you … over and over.

One such day occurred for me in September, 2013. It was my first day in Boston with the sole agenda of shooting Street, and I was alone. I wouldn't say that I knew the city well, but I did know where people were easily found.

Over the next few hours I would have the opportunity to make some of my best Street Photography to date. Some of the shots were easy, while others required all of the meager skills that I possessed. You never know for sure what you have until you return home, yet I felt in "the zone."

As the hours passed I barely thought about anything, including photography. I didn't stop for anything, I never do. I don't eat, and I don't drink. I didn't have a plan as I rolled through the heart of the city.

I was in-and-out of the subway system, through parks and markets, into the North End and onto Chinatown. Amazing things happened right before me, while I had to dig a bit for others.

After six continuous hours of shooting, what did I really have?

I had been given incredible opportunities that day, but did I take full advantage of them? You be the judge.