when to put the camera down.

[slow231]

at what point does capturing the moment get too much in the way of the moment itself? ever see the guy at a concert who can't stop phone videoing the event long enough to actually enjoy it? in today's social media frenzied world, posts, updates, and check-ins about events are seemingly primary to actually participating in the event itself. in our personal lives (being photo enthusiasts), I think it's way easy to get carried away with trying to make images that we lose sight of the importance of what's being documented to begin with.

I really haven't done much client work since my kid's been born, so photography as of late has almost primarily been about documenting my personal life. on one hand (after the fact) i really love going back and seeing all of the stuff that was documented over the last year and half. it's lovely for facebook/etc for the grandparents, family, and friends. they really love getting filled in on all the little outings they miss, and the younger friends of course love getting new fodder for profile pics, etc. but in the moment, sometimes it feels like shooting is really getting in the way of just enjoying the things i do. Being in photographer mode means being ready and poised to capture anything, and sometimes feels like this ends up with forcing a "moment" that just isn't there. i've started to leave the camera home a lot more and i'm feeling like sometimes this helps to keep a good balance. how do you guys balance the "i want to participate and enjoy what i'm doing" vs. "when there's a camera in my hand i have to be seeking good photos" in your personal lives?

 

[rexbobcat]

I'm enjoying an event when I'm photographing it.

The brain lies and memories deteriorate, and to fill in the gaps in those memories it fabricates new pieces to make it seem complete.

 

[slow231]

I'm enjoying an event when I'm photographing it.

The brain lies and memories deteriorate, and to fill in the gaps in those memories it fabricates new pieces to make it seem complete.

i agree and disagree. recollections are biased, but i can also make an event seem a whole lot like it wasn't with photos. lies can happen just as easily in the "documentation", and i've done it plenty. sometimes i feel that chasing "good" shots biases the representation away from my memory (which is maybe most indicative of my feelings at the time). and this bias (whether it be more truthful or not) isn't always quite what i want.

I also enjoy photographing, but when it comes to stuff i should be a part of (my personal life), running around trying to get the right equipment, angles, distances, backgrounds, etc. really does get in the way of being a part of things or just enjoying them for what they are.

 

[rexbobcat]

i agree and disagree. recollections are biased, but i can also make an event seem a whole lot like it wasn't with photos. lies can happen just as easily in the "documentation", and i've done it plenty. sometimes i feel that chasing "good" shots biases the representation away from my memory which isn't always quite what i want.

Well I'm not saying that you should solely rely on your photos. If the cake falls over at a wedding bit the photos don't show it, that doesn't mean you just believe it didn't really happen.

But I still believe photos, if taken by the person who is trying to recall the event, are much more reliable than memory, because you not only remember the event but you also remember taking the photo itself.

Nostalgia is powerful - sometimes more powerful than the actual event itself.

 

[Steve5D]

I was shooting at Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery (in San Diego) on Memorial Day a few years back.

I was walking along when I saw this elderly gentleman sitting in a chair next to a gravestone. I lifted my camera and framed the shot. The old man was drinking a can of beer, and just looking out over the entrance to San Diego Bay. I got the impression that this was something that this old man did every year, and I remember wondering how many more times he would get to do it. For whatever reason, I put the camera down. It would've been easy enough to take the shot, but I didn't. There was something about that scene which made me feel like an intruder.

Later on, as I walked along past that gravestone, I looked down at it (the old man had since left), and took note that the interred was a recipient of the Congressional Medal of Honor (I don't recall the name), which was awarded posthumously. I like to think that the old man who was sitting there earlier was able to do that because of the actions of the deceased.

A photo, I think, would've been powerful.

But I'm content in having not taken it...