I photograph the people in which I notice. People that steal my attention. But that doesn’t mean I photograph them all. I may be speaking with someone at the time and not be able to say “give me two minutes please while I go over there to photograph that gentleman” or because the focus of my attention may be getting away, getting into a car busy with bags, kids or with life. Basically, I prefer to photograph people that are alone. Some people get embarrassed with the presence of their friends, family or boyfriends. I’ve seen people more embarrassed with the people they were with than with me. And there’s a specific situation that always leaves me a bit uneasy – the one of suggesting a photograph to a woman accompanied by a man. I can’t help but feel a taste of gracelessness. I can't help but feel a bit rude. But I’ve done it. In moments such as this one when I saw a man too cool to feel offended with a kid that just wanted to photograph his wife. Or on this day when I just had to take this photograph (“I dare you to take this picture, Zé, I dare you”) or I wouldn't have forgiven myself. Or on those exact moments when I said to the 2 or 3 friends that surrounded Ilaria and Desiré that I needed them for a minute. What all those moments have in common is not what one can see in each one of the photographs, but the anguish that I would feel if I hadn’t taken them. Not photographing Ana is something that I couldn’t allow myself not to do. Best of all, her friend smiled. Best of all, her friend liked it. But I must confess that I consider that just a detail.
[this post can also be seen here]