It was our second day in Nepal. Jen and I placed ourselves in the hands of our friend Renu Bagaria. We said things like, “Take us where we need to go. Tell us what we need to hear. Show us what we need to see.” This is how it is when we land in a new country for Picture Hope. We move in the moment. We trust our friends, and we trust our instincts. So when Renu said that she’d like to take us into some of the largest slums in Kathmandu to give us an opportunity to meet some of her students and their families in their homes, naturally, we were eager to follow her.
Laxmi welcomed us into her home with “namaste,” introduced her children, and stood quietly beside the family bed. We exchanged a handful of eager smiles and heartfelt words through Mukesh, Renu’s previous student and now right-hand man at Koseli School. Our time was short. The space was dimly lit. Laxmi seemed a little unsure about what to do in our presence. But I remember feeling blessed at this moment – to just stand there with my camera and the desire to share the light of such a strong and beautiful woman in her home. To watch the way her son looked up at her. To see her daughter reach for her brother’s hands. To witness love and get a good glimpse of hope.
As a documentary photographer, I strive to blend in with my surroundings – to give myself ample time and space to make my way past the barrier of a new connection, and establish a level of trust with my subjects so they feel comfortable in my presence. Like a scientist, my desire is to conduct a thorough study of who they are by watching their expressions, listening to their stories, and following the moves they make in a variety of spaces and scenarios. In fact, it’s best if they don’t even look at me. But more often than not, there is no such thing as ample time and space. I might only have five precious minutes (as I did here) to establish a strong-enough connection with the individuals beyond my lens before I grant myself permission to click. It’s just how it is.
Do you require a connection with your subjects? How do you make that connection? What can you do to make someone feel comfortable in your presence and at ease before your lens when time is of the essence? There might be tricks of trade, but I’ve discovered that the only thing I know how to do is to just be myself (not the photographer I think I need to be, but the woman I am) and hope they do the same.