The Photograph Not Taken
I'm a photographer – I take photos. That is the very definition of what I am. It is what I embody, what I live and breath every single day.
I took photos of every subject possible - no matter how gruesome or intimate - as long as it served a purpose, was it a journalistic or artistic one. Some of these I'll never share with anyone during my lifetime.
Nonetheless, there is nothing more extraordinary than a photograph not taken. This is the story of the photograph I did not take.
The Story
It is Sunday evening, I head out to “Westbahnhof” (Western Station, Vienna) to pick up a box of donuts I just pre-ordered. Of course, I bring a camera with me, who knows whether there is an opportunity to grab some interesting streets. And I wear a face mask, there is a pandemic going on, after all. Looking at the back of my camera changing some settings, I fail to realise someone walking up to me.
"What kind of photographs do you take?"
A slightly slurred, male voice makes me turn my head.
"I take street photos"
Judging by his appearance, my vis-à-vis is most likely a homeless person, aged around 30 or 40, wearing a dark coloured hoodie and a dirty face mask around his neck.
"Do you take pictures of fuck-ups and hobos as well?", he continues to inquire.
At this point, my mind is racing. Is he looking for trouble? Is he trying to point towards the issue that photographers exploit people living on the streets by taking attention-grabbing photographs?
"Well, I don't do that – I'm looking for interesting, entertaining street scenes to photograph."
"Would you like to take photo of me taking a shot. I'll do that now, would you like to take my picture?"
At this point, I realize that he is dead fucking serious - he is not trying to pull my leg.
"That’s a private moment, and it belongs to you. I think I ‘d rather not take a photograph of you doing that."
Giving me a determined look, he repeats:
"I thought you probably never photographed or saw something like that. Would you take the photo?"
At least he is right that I never photographed someone doing drugs.
"It is your private moment. By exhibiting the image at some point in the future, I would expose your private moment to a judgemental public. I believe no one has the right to be judgemental about private moments like these, so I'd rather not take your image."
The man takes a step back, his face and posture change like he snapped out of something.
"Sorry for bothering you. It was wrong to ask you for something like that. I'm very drunk. Sorry for talking to you. It was a stupid idea."
I pull my face mask down to the chin. The words that leave my mouth are not formed in my head, but somewhere else.
"Thank you for asking me. For trusting me and for sharing this with me. There is no need to be sorry. You did not bother me at all."
He says his goodbyes, and rushes up the escalator which leads to the backside of the train station, were the addicts usually hang out.
Thoughts
Did I fail as a photographer?
A photographer is someone who takes photos - so yes, I failed as I did not take the photo. I wanted to be polite and show him that I value him as a person. At least I upheld my ethos – not photographing for grabbing attention without journalistic or artistic intent.
Did I fail as a person?
Maybe he wasn’t offering me to take his picture, but requesting me to do so. By asking me whether I take images of “fuck-ups”, he was most likely referring to how he felt about himself. He was trying to find out whether I would even consider taking a photo of a “loser” like him.
When I declined, he felt ashamed. He felt ashamed by bothering a “normal person” with his request.
But isn’t it one of the most human things that we want our photograph taken? To assure and document that we exist in this world?
Homeless, drug addicts, immigrants, minorities – they all sit on the sidewalks of our societies.
Some of them feel like they are not even worthy of attention. They don’t exist in the world of “the normal people”. They are unnoticed.
It would be a relief to be able to turn back time and take his image for his sake, and for his sake alone. It would have been an image depicting a human and his humanity. Not more, not less.
Further References
Austrian photographer Florian Czech explored unglamorous street life in his powerful work “Unnoticed”.
The book “Photographs Not Taken” (ISBN 9780983231615) inspired me to share my story with you. It is a great read for everyone with and without a camera.
