What was it about Paris that got you interested in street photography? Was it just all you learned at the photography expositions you mentioned or was it something more personal too?
Actually, I did not do much street photography the first couple of years I lived in Paris. However, shortly after I moved to Paris in 2010, I attended a photography Meetup in which we had to shoot in black and white, wandering across town in small groups in the evening. That was probably the first time ever for me to consciously experiment with street photography. I got some good shots that night, which I exhibited in 2012 in a small cafeteria at the university where I worked. In the years to follow I would occasionally do some street photography, like capturing a waiter having a smoke outside, readers and lovers in the Jardin du Luxembourg, people on top of the Canal Saint-Martin bridges, those sort of things. There are some many people around in Paris that in a way it’s hard not to do any street photography.
But things really kicked off in May 2014, when I decided to make a trip to Rabat, Morocco, with the sole purpose of doing street photography. My inspiration for this trip came mainly from the work of Bruno Barbey, a French Magnum photographer who has done some outstanding work in Morocco. Then I simply googled some more on Rabat and found out there is this neighborhood with these blue walls, and after seeing more and more street photography from this place I just had to go there myself. And so I went. I spent four days in the medina, wandering around with my camera, hunting for street photography images. I had to avoid getting lost in the labyrinth that the medina is, sometimes walking back to landmarks I had remembered, as to assure I could always find my way back. I did nothing else but shoot photos the whole day, even during lunch I had my camera handy.
When I lived in Paris (I am Dutch), I learned a great deal about photography. In the Parisian metro you are constantly bombarded with advertisements for art exhibitions, there’s a lot going on. There are so many photography museums and galleries around that if you already had an interest in photography, it’s bound to be strengthened. I saw a large exposition on Henri Cartier-Bresson at the Centre Pompidou, one on Brassaï in the Hôtel de Ville and one on Sarah Moon in the Natural History Museum. I started buying photobooks with the work of Robert Doisneau, Pentti Sammallahti, and last November I bought a book on Ernst Haas during a visit to Paris. Paris is a city breathing art. If you’re sensitive to that, it affects you.
Visiting a photography exhibition can be a powerful thing. For instance, after seeing an exhibition of Henri Cartier-Bresson in 1953, Piergiorgio Branzi ran outside to a camera store, bought a camera, and started a career in photography. I myself got so inspired by a Sarah Moon exhibition in 2013 that once I was outside again I looked at the world in a different way. In an artistic way. Right there and then, I started taking photos again. When I came home, I immediately edited some of my own photos I’d taken before at the Jardin des Plantes – photos that Sarah Moon’s work had reminded me off. This would be the most zestful editing I ever did: I worked extremely fast, I knew exactly what I wanted, and I worked with great pleasure. I think I have not had the energy and enthusiasm with photo editing again since that day. So yes, visiting expositions can be truly inspiring and motivating.
How has travel affected your street photography style?
I don’t think travel has affected my street photography style. I have a style already, and that style goes with me wherever I go. I am shy person and I am very careful as to not intrude into people’s privacy, so my photos are shot from a distance, and my subjects are unaware of being photographed. This is the kind of candid photography that Cartier-Bresson intended.
In 2014, I travelled to China for a month. One of my most successful photos from this trip is a man pulling a cart filled with stones up a street. Only years later did I learn about a photo of Marc Riboud, a French photographer who travelled to Asia in the 1950s, that has some resemblance my own photo. Riboud shot life on the street from inside a shop in Liulichang, through the door and the six windows that made up the façade. My photo of the man with the cart was shot through the wooden façade of the small hotel we were staying at in Huangyao. I deliberately used that façade in the composition. Someone else, someone with a different personality, might have gone outside, walk up to the man and ask if he could take his portrait. I didn’t. Riboud didn’t. I guess we are in the first place both good observers. I know Riboud was extremely shy, and so am I. I tend to stay in a safe spot. I keep my distance. That affects my photographic style.
Do you think street photography can be fine art?
Absolutely. I think street photography is a fine art. But I am not saying that all street photography that is out there is art, though. There is a lot of mediocre street photography around too.
It’s a cliché to bring up Cartier-Bresson again, but some of his photos are so beautiful that they start to look like paintings. Take for example his photo of mourning women, seeking refuge in their handkerchiefs at the funeral of actor Danjuro in Tokyo in 1965. I find such images very artistic. It’s a photo, but it’s art. The same holds for the work of Vivian Maier; the quality of her work is just so incredibly good that there can be no doubt about this being fine art. She was less of a candid photographer as she also made portraits with consent of the people in front of her lens.
Photographers like Saul Leiter, Harry Gruyaert and Markus Andersen have a unique style with which they create their own little world. Their photos are like a small, personal universe. It’s what they saw. People tend to rush by their daily surroundings without having a proper look of what’s out there, without seeing the beauty of a reflection, a shade, a special kind of light. Street photography is a creative process, you have to see opportunities, use your imagination, think out of the box. You wander around, observe intensely and try to create an image with a scene you spotted, waiting for someone to pass, pressing the shutter at exactly the right moment. All of this requires effort, and shooting for hours on end can be tiring.
What advice would you give to anyone who would like to get their work in an exhibit?
I would advise to exhibit at a place that feels good to you. Don’t just pick any place simple because it’s possible there, choose a place where you feel ‘this is where I want to show my work’. My second advice is to prepare well in advance. Choosing which work to show takes time. Mounting your photos takes time. Start well in advance, don’t wait till the last moment. Announce your exhibit among friends and family, advertise on social media, put up posters in coffee bars, leave flyers behind. Then at the actual exhibit time, be there as much as you can. Take notice of any criticism you might get, as from criticism you can learn the most. Be prepared that even though you are likely to be bathed in praise, there might still be a few vicious snakes around. They will try to bite you. Try to learn from their criticism, it’s all you can do. Last but not least, enjoy the attention and positive feedback you get. This is your moment, so savor it.
See more of Jeroen’s work by following this link and visiting his website.