Finding the place in street photography

Yesterday I attended a talk by Javier Arcenillas (@javierarcenillas). Calling him simply a street photographer would fall short: he is somehow a mix of photojournalism, street photography, somehow an explorer and tinker — he has that impulse that sometimes falls asleep and needs to be awakened. I listened to how he understands photography, and some ideas stayed with me afterwards.

He spoke about four archetypes of street photographers —not as rigid categories, but as ways of looking and reacting to what unfolds around us:

1. The Hunter

Alert, fast, almost instinctive. Moves through the city sensing when something is about to happen. (I’ve written about this one before, though there’s always room for more.)

2. The Poet

Seeks shadows, reflections, textures, patterns. Finds metaphors in every corner and feels the city more than observing it.

3. The Informant

A direct witness of reality. Shows the world as it is: raw, honest, unadorned.

The most documentary-oriented approach, where photojournalism also fits.

4. The Rebel

Breaks rules. Mixes styles. Embraces chaos: motion, blur, shake, noise…

Everything that contradicts conventional photography.

As I listened, I found myself thinking:

Which one am I? Can I choose one? Does it depend on the photos I take?

It’s tempting to want a label, a framework where we feel comfortable, something that helps us define ourselves (as happens in so many areas of life, right?). But in the end, I understood that, as in many other things, we move from one style to another. We don’t need to follow a fixed pattern.

Sometimes we stalk like hunters; other times a composition catches us; sometimes we “document” a moment, even if we’re not photojournalists; and other days we’re simply playful and do silly things with the camera that end up becoming “happy accidents.”

But there’s something deeper: experimenting.

Returning to film, rescuing old cameras, changing rules, frames and angles; pushing boundaries and crossing them; allowing lucky accidents and embracing imperfections.

Film cameras have a soul. They are imperfect. The older they are, the better. They don’t have the precision of modern gear, that damn uniformity that makes two cameras produce almost the same image in the same place.

It’s not nostalgia —it’s creative honesty.

Because photography is not only about capturing what we see; it’s about renewing how we see.

Changing tools so the eye doesn’t fall asleep.

Experimenting to awaken intuition.

Accepting error because sometimes it reveals what control hides.

Maybe that’s the point.

Not deciding what kind of photographer I am, but accepting that I move between all four —and daring to dust off the past in order to see the future more clearly. To learn again from old tools and old ways and apply them to the present. To mix, try, and combine.

Perhaps that’s where the essence of photography lies:

in the freedom to reinvent ourselves every time we press the shutter.

Photo (C) @javierarcenillas