While I, to a certain extent, understand the fuss about the beauty of the streets under the sun, I find that I am more drawn to the drama of things in the night time. And while day time street photography requires specialized skills related to speed and intuition in order to capture that decisive moment, I prefer to fog-up my viewfinder – on the outside, of course – as I take my time in deciding whether a certain frame evokes the feeling that I want to capture.
I take an M6 Classic RF and a Voigtlander 35mm/2.5 Color-Skopar II lens with me on my night time walks. I have to say that the camera plays a very important part in stirring up the feeling that I so awfully need in order to take a photograph. The way it feels in the hand, its weight, the subtle sound that it makes that marries perfectly with the hush of the night, the “trance-inducing” view from the viewfinder, all of these elements come together to bring out the uncommon in the common things that I see. The lens works for me as well. As unintimidating as it may look, with its specs, size and all, it is able interpret my visions and compositions faithfully.
I started to take photographs of the night streets back in 2003, in Japan. I was using an S30 Canon compact back then and I mainly shot for no apparent reason but to kill time. It was then that I started to notice how expressive things become under a lonely street lamp or a misplaced lighting. And as I went through each night taking photographs, I started to appreciate the artistry of the night time; made up of the quiet poses of everyday things, corners empty of souls and, sometimes, people indulging in silence. I still feel the same until now. The only difference is that I have become more selective, more receptive to a particular feeling that I whole-heartedly believe is related to a personal prayer that I say whenever I hit the night streets, and it is always there, this feeling, according to my senses at least, whenever I decide to press the shutter release button.
When I go through my folder, I sometimes fail to recall the feeling that I’ve associated with some of the photographs that I’ve taken, but there are times when my heart just skips a beat because the feeling is just there, ever present. One photograph that I’m very fond of is that of a man walking along a lit pathway, he has a plastic bag on his hand, a pair of slippers to match a crumpled white polo shirt and a pair of black pants; he walks wearily, probably on his way home. I pause, in appreciation, whenever I come across photographs like these in my folder as I feel that they are straight-forward representations of how someone so important to me was feeling at that particular moment in time. I call this someone, God.
Photographer: Day Garcia
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