Almost a 100 years of street photography since Kertész.
The photographic stills of the so called living theater changed a lot in all those years. Greys became colours, the plot became experimental, arbitrary, without a start and an end, unlike the compositional gems of HCB.
The odd, the peculiar, the anecdotic became the standard. As if the less we understood, the greater the artistic breakthrough of the photographer. Freaks and monsters (sensu largo, including half bodies entering and leaving the frame, juxtaposed in Siamese twins postures) became and stayed a dear subject for the street photographers because of their clear and immediate impact on people's delightful suburban lives.
Presently, the once most fearful situation when assembling a scene (seeing fragments not fitting the kit) is almost what makes a street photograph stand out in the "experts" eyes.
Unfortunately, the people who tell you that, the curators who convince you to be as odd as possible … well they spend their lives indoors in verbose symposia, colloquia and round tables. What a waste ... (of time mostly).
If we look closely at the work of the Masters we will see that they all had only a few "good" years. As someone said, don't remember his name (wink): "to be a good photographer is not an eternal achievement but just a clandestine touch of genius!"
Steven is out there at dawn, at night, by any weather, under any light, mostly alone, and he is shooting like there is no tomorrow. And he's right! There isn't!
Go out and shoot, because life is a beach and then you dye ... or paint (yours truly talking in front of the mirror).
PS: Whoever in front of Steven's picture didn't feel on their skin the chill of the night, whoever didn't admire the meticulous construction of the scene piece by piece, whoever wasn't moved by the muted dialogues of the buyer/seller and of the primary colours, is invited to come forward and throw me the first stone.
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