A while back, I remember reading a blog post by Dzesika Devic about street photography and one line in particular stuck out to me – “I always wish I was somewhere else”. I think this is a common feeling amongst photographers (especially as it applies to time and our nostalgia for old photos of different eras, but that’s a completely different subject for another time) and it certainly applies to me too. I do a lot of thinking about taking great photographs in other places. Ever since I started traveling in earnest back in 2015 or so, I’ve developed a sense that the photographs I take in other places are somehow much more interesting that any I could take at home.
I have a tendency to think that Philadelphia isn’t a particularly interesting city. Anybody who knows me well knows that I have many gripes with Philly, as many Philadelphians who have an interest in real estate, city planning or local politics do. There are a thousand things I could elaborate on here, including everything from Philly’s lack of street cleaning, to its simultaneously progressive and regressive zoning code, to its obsession with parking and its woeful lack of useable rapid transit. But I’ll save that for another day in favor of a different topic.
The thing that makes it most difficult for me to see Philadelphia differently is its architectural uniformity. If you’re familiar with Philly at all, you’re probably aware of that fact that a large portion of its built environment consists of two to three story brick rowhomes. With the exception of a few areas – the northeast, Manayunk, parts of Center City, and the Victorian-era streetcar suburbs of West Philly – almost all of the rest of the city adheres to a strict aesthetic. The remainder of the city is made up of brick rowhomes, often built on narrow little streets, all adhering to a relentless street grid which can feel oppressively monotonous at times. All of this adds up to make a red-brick city (as Kerouac would have called it) that’s by and large devoid of architectural and urban surprises, in the way that many of my favorite cities I’ve ever been to are rife with.
Take for instance my favorite city, Pittsburgh. Pittsburgh is, as one writer put it, a diagonal city. Its various neighborhoods were all once separate municipalities which have been loosely tied together, while the actual building stock rose and fell so hard in the 20th century that the city is now home to about half of the people it was originally built for. Walking or even driving or biking around Pittsburgh is a thrilling experience, things change consistently, the topography creates interesting urban barriers, and it’s easy to get lost.
Or take Hong Kong, a city which existed before the invention of the American street grid – its winding streets and impressively tall built fabric (depending on how you define “tallest city” it is either first in the world or second only to New York), create plenty of opportunities for jumbled urban vistas, a feeling of chaos and a beautiful feeling of exploration. Even San Francisco differentiates itself from the typical American city with its ample hills and sweeping views of the bay and bridges – it feels, as all the greatest port cities do – like a city on the edge of the world.
I could go on, but you probably get the point. I have a hard time envisioning Philadelphia as an interesting place.
Lately I’ve been making efforts to change that. In the past, it’s seemed like there’s some kind of correlation between purchasing a new camera and seeing my immediate surroundings a bit differently. A few years back, I bought a 28mm lens for my Mamiya 645 and it helped me to, quite literally, see life through a different lens. In an especially orthogonal city like Philadelphia, the 28mm on the 645 has proven to be a nice combo, it allows me to capture the hard angles of the architecture in my home city well, even though I rarely post those photos publicly.
And a few years before that, I had just moved to Center City after more than a year in more suburban/rural parts of New Jersey. Living in a city again felt so good that I couldn’t help but get excited by all the things around me, and photograph them with a fresh eye. Add to that the fulfillment of my lifelong fantasy of living in Philadelphia and my newfound realization that there was a lot I actually didn’t know about and you get a good idea of how I might have felt a sense of discovery in Philly, however briefly.
My latest camera purchase has been of some assistance in re-igniting this feeling. I’ve been really enjoying how much easier and more discreet a rangefinder makes street photography and have been shooting street photos in a way that I haven’t for a long time. I’ve also been taking more personal photos as the camera is smaller and feels somehow less offensive and more friendly. I even took a few that I’m proud of, which has been encouraging.
The above photos got me excited to make some street photographs again. I’ve never been particularly good at this style of photography, as it typically involves getting up close and personal with total strangers or being sneaky and not caring if somebody sees you photographing them. I’ve been trying to face my fears about this and have been shooting more photos of strangers recently.
What forced me to try something different was likely being unable to travel. Since I haven’t traveled internationally in quite some time (partially due to COVID, partially to personal circumstances), I’ve started trying to capture my immediate surroundings better instead of always relying on trips to fulfill my photographic ambitions. Being in one place for long periods of time makes you examine it more carefully, and though my examinations aren’t always positive, I’ve been challenging myself to look at the city differently for the sake of making better photos of it. I have a lot of photos from this summer so far that I’d like to post here soon which I still need to scan, so I’ll show them eventually, but I’ve been happy with the way my photos have been turning out recently, happier than I have been in a while.