Shooting what it feels like, not what it looks like.
I was recently asked to photograph the Community Services Center in Taipei’s annual charity auction gala. As with any time I’m asked to photograph something, I was immediately filled with excitement at another opportunity to do something that I love (photography never feels like work to me) followed by a little apprehension because I wondered if they understood that I do a very specific kind of photography (which is the reason why photography never feels like work to me). Once I received confirmation that yes, they understood that I’m a documentary photographer and would not be setting up posed shots nor be looking for very many traditional, “smiling at the camera” type photos, I started dreaming about all of the creative ways I would be able to tell the story of this night. I was ready to play.
The theme for the gala was “Glitz & Glamour,” and I immediately knew that this called for a noir black-and-white look. With that decided, it was time to turn my attention to capturing a big event like this in a documentary style. This is nothing for a wedding photographer, but for a family photographer like me, the amount of people was definitely different than the usual! But here’s the secret: the more activity that’s happening, the more you need to slow down. I couldn’t photograph everything, so I looked for what I needed to tell the right story. I looked for what was interesting to me.
There are many little tricks that help keep my observational senses primed so that I can notice the emotional, the fleeting, in other words, the interesting—using a wide angle lens and shooting in it, not at it, slowing down. But perhaps my favorite mantra that I like to keep in mind is shoot what it feels like, not what it looks like.
Communicating a feeling is always my top priority when making an image; this is what elevates photography from merely a recording of a moment that happened to art. It’s a thousand words and a time machine. It’s a story. It’s light years more important than a technically perfect photo because it’s what makes it irreplaceable.
Even as I’m photographing in the moment, I always keep the future in mind. What will the people in these photos want to remember when they look at these images a year from now or 40 years from now? Will they want to remember the color of the walls or even the color of the dress they’re wearing? I think they’ll want to remember what it felt like to be there. I think they’re going to want to feel the beat of the music and taste the wine on their tongue. Maybe a photo can’t literally give you these things, but it can come pretty damn close. I’ll never stop trying to capture what a moment feels like, even as it slips away along with the sand in the hourglass.
