"Composition must be one of our constant preoccupations..."
--Henri Cartier-Bresson
Bresson went onto write, "...but at the moment of shooting it can stem only from our intuition, for we are out to capture the fugitive moment..."
"The fugitive moment"
How brilliant, insightful and true. As photographers, we are in constant search of that special moment where light, subject, and photographer intersect creating an image that's moving and lasting.
Two nights ago I was in Seattle. I walked and searched the streets trying to find the crossroad where my camera and the world would intersect. I was hoping to create an image or two of such "fugitive moments". I'm drawn towards the possibilities that can be found shooting at night, the way light and shadow and darkness spill into one another, mixing together mystery and happenstance and opportunity. I am awakened by the energy of the street, by the unknown that's around the next corner; the shop keeper closing up the store, the kitchenhand taking out empty fruit crates to the dumpster, the band loading their gear into the van at the end of a night's performance... I'm on the hunt for that decisive moment where the image can tell a story or in fact begin one.
Every night shoot leaves indelible experiences on me, especially those that show the solitude that is found on the streets of a large and normally bustling city. Timing is everything, and for me a city offers the most opportunity, comes alive with endless possibilities, when others might see it as asleep.
It had been years since I was last in Seattle, but I had a genuine sense of where I wanted to explore; exactly where I was warned not to be by the bartender who had just served me an amazing dinner of fresh oysters, Dungeness crab cocktail and a lovely black cod entree. In truth, I did start off with the best intentions of avoiding the back streets of the Public Market, I was still dressed in my business attire, I was too noticeable, too much a target, a mark for street predators, but the foot traffic, the sounds of a street musician, the wafting smell of Ganja being smoked by passersby led me to the cobblestone streets of an area that is a tourist spot by day, with a seedy soul by night. It wasn't quite late enough that safety gave way to danger as businesses had just closed, commuters were still vacating the streets, and two lone food trucks were shutting down their kitchens. I either looked like I was a business man at the end of his long day, or one in search of dope. A few hours later I would be a target with my camera as the perfect object to heist.
