When I started photographing many years ago, I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know what to capture, I didn’t know how to capture it, and I definitely didn’t know what to do with the photos afterward.
But the most important thing I didn’t know was why I was releasing the shutter.
I photographed whatever caught my eye, with no real intent behind it. Back then I was drawn to details and abstract scenes – a colorful leaf, a shadow on a wall, a frozen eyebolt, that kind of thing. Somewhat boring, you might argue.
I was shooting with a Sony Cyber-shot P50, versatile enough to handle most scenes. Then – because of course gear was the problem – I got myself a Fujifilm FinePix S9100. A true beast of a camera, at least in my eyes. It also ate through rechargeable Ni-MH cells like peanuts.
Still, I had no idea what to photograph. I’d learned how – exposure, the basics of composition – but I kept struggling to find compelling scenes. Photography became a frustrating experience, and eventually, a long hiatus followed.
I picked my phone back up now and then to snap random things, without much conviction either way.
Then the first pandemic lockdown happened. For reasons I can’t fully explain, I bought a Panasonic Lumix G80 with a 12-60mm kit lens. As soon as the strictest travel restrictions lifted, I started rediscovering photography – this time with a proper camera in hand.
I remember the first walk my wife and I took through Milan afterward. I had the G80 with me, and something clicked while photographing the still-empty city.
I still had plenty of photo-shyness to shake off before I could point a camera at strangers, but I’d finally found my sweet spot.
Fast forward six years, and street photography remains my favorite hobby – alongside woodworking, but that’s a story for another time.
I love trekking and being in nature, but landscape photography has slowly become a side hustle for me. I find it strangely unfulfilling, maybe because it depends so much on conditions I can’t control. I’m also drawn to compositions with a human element in them – street photography in the mountains, I suppose.
Street photography, on the other hand, works anywhere, in any condition, at any hour.
It’s also deeply relaxing – mind-unraveling, even. Last week I had a meh day at work, and even though I didn’t feel like it, I pushed myself out for a 1.5-hour photo walk. It was hot and sweaty, but it cleared my head and left me feeling much better. I came home with a few good shots, too.
The act of observing – of being present, focused on something outside my own head – does wonders for my wellbeing. It’s not something I get in the same way or amount from trekking; the mountains, somehow, are too distracting.
That’s why street photography feels like the right fit for me – for my own sake, and for the photos that come out of it.