mental exercises of the sleepless kind: meditations on photography and portraiture

i have been playing with the camera for about three years now. photography occupies my waking hours, my dream-state and even my subconscious. somehow, there is something so attractive in capturing meaning in 1/125th of a second wherein other people or other elements tell a story and you just have to be there, observe, stand back and act at the right moment. no grappling for words, no worries of misinterpretation. just a decision to click or not to click.

this is not to say that photography is the easier tool of communication. no, practitioners in the field know very well that a good photograph not only requires voluntary action of carpal muscles to be good. it asks from the photographer skill, technique, adeptness, astuteness and most of all, decisiveness. making decisions seems easy. after all, when the opportunity presents itself, it only takes less than a second to do your job. however, it is precisely that fleetingness of moment coupled with the possibility of affecting the natural flow of human movement and reaction by that single obtrusive lens that makes someone hesitate and lose the photo. there will always be a photo that got away.

french photographer Henri-Cartier Bresson once said, "photographers deal in things which are continually vanishing and when they have vanished there is no contrivance on earth which can make them come back again." therein lies the beauty of the perfect shot. it is perfect precisely because the moment can never be repeated and you are overwhelmed by an extreme gladness that you took the risk and squeezed the trigger.

in many ways, i think photography is like hunting and hunting especially in the olden times, is necessary for the preservation of life. photography then is a tool for the preservation of the human race. it aims to document, to make immortal the mundane, the extraordinary, every single thing that shows how it is to be truly human and alive.

this is very apparent in taking street photos. the slight movement of the hand, a certain tilting of the body, a movement of the hair, a person's position vis-a-vis a billboard sign, mirror images that last a few seconds only to be erased by the surge of human interaction--everything has meaning in time and space.

i often try to shoot incognito. there is something so appealing in being able to capture people in their most uninhibited and natural states. there's something truthful and pure about it. however, portraits have interested me lately. i have done only one portrait that i like, and as i look at it again and again, the more i realize the importance of that particular shot. photographing people who know you are photographing them, and doing it well gives another kind of gratification. in those few minutes that you fumble and hesitate and decide to take the shot, you become the recipient of the subject's 'subjectivity.' in those instances, he slowly becomes whom he wants you to know. he introduces himself, he shows you what he is and what he is not and you become the humble recipient of his personhood--at least the part he is willing to reveal. and you also give. you give yourself in your quiet goadings, your affirmations, and the moment you choose to take the shot. as a photographer, you too are visible and exposed. it's an intimate exchange, like friendship, like love.

many people hate to have their pictures taken; they say it's like stealing their souls. i too squirm in front of the lens. maybe herein lies the beauty of taking portraits. you no longer feel like an outsider looking in. you do not feel like a thief. you and the subject are both consensual entities in the creative process of capturing the human soul. and i say, as with natural unposed photos, there is also truth and purity in that.