Well, I am not obsessed about using old cameras or film. Nor am I Otaku about observing people around the world in their public behaviors. Rather, since I clicked my Kodak Brownie for the first time more than half a century ago, I have seen very similar behaviors among people no matter the continent, their language, their belief set, and appearance. We are more alike than unalike as wrote Maya Angelou regarding the Human Family.
Why is that of interest to a street photographer? Because predictability is key to anticipating a behavior and being ready to capture it on film (or digital media). Eventually a street photographer is a photo journalist who needs to tell a story. He or she is not out there looking for the perfectly set-up artistic shot. Or the technically impressive plasticity of a photograph. In short, a street photographer takes blurred pictures that viewers can identify with, laugh about or let a tear run down their cheek.
A street photographer does not wish for the perfect light while waiting for a sunset with his camera on a tripod.
So is this Otaku?
… The Belvedere Palace in Vienna, Austria is now a sumptuous museum and gallery of arts. There are in fact two Belvedere palaces separated by a royal garden. The Upper Belvedere has the largest permanent collection of Gustav Klimt’s work, in addition to works by Schiele and Kokoschka. With all that Vienna has to offer in music, sculpture, literature and visual arts, a visit to Vienna without a day in the Upper Belvedere museum is a poorly planned trip!
So, on a cold and cloudy November afternoon I was about to enter the museum when in front of the palace I noticed two women taking photos of a statue. I stopped to watch as they were clicking their digital cameras non-stop. Within a minute of time they probably took more photos than I would have in an entire week when walking the streets with my 1954 Leica IIIF or 1969 Nikon F.
The amazing part was that their subject was a statue that had not moved, or take flight, for hundreds of years!
So, in my own “Otakuesque” way, I took a picture of the moment. The lens was the 1970s Nikkor 50mm 1.4 capable of amazing clarity in low light even on ASA 100 film. The garden is in their back and the Lower Belvedere palace in the far distance.
Then I went in to let the “Kiss” by Klimt fill my senses with glamorous color and proportion.
… A couple of days later, again late in a cloudy and cold afternoon, I was walking through a Christmas Market. During December all of Austria mushrooms these markets where food, handcraft and anything in between can be found under delightfully light-decorated trees. As usual, I was more interested in what people were doing than what was sold in the kiosks.
So, I saw a young woman, wearing a skirt on this cold day. She was about 50 meters away but her cheerfulness was easy to see. And, as I was wondering if she would “tell a story” through my lens, she blew an air kiss to someone I could not see. I clicked without focusing, hoping for the best. Then she walked away.
When I processed the picture, I noticed that there was indeed a story. Not because of her blowing the kiss but because of the man on the right with his walker. And the two ladies in the background. They all represented different phases of life, together for a split second, sharing the cheerfulness of the season.
… And I thought about that picture I took of the ladies taking numerous photos of a stone statue. Otaku or not, I prefer the surprises live folks share with those eager to celebrate the moment with them.
December 2, 2016
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2016
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