The human touch: Tips for better people shots (part one)

As digital camera gear and post-processing software continue to improve, with AI chips dedicated to nailing focus with clinical precision and tools like Topaz AI designed to correct mistakes and recover images, it has never been easier to produce photographs that are technically competent and visually pleasing.

But there’s one thing even the best gear can’t do for us: tell a story. And one of the most powerful ways to do that is by adding a touch of humanity.

A landscape can be beautiful, and a building can hold historic or architectural value, but it’s through people that we can understand emotion, values, culture, juxtapositions, history, and lived experiences. Adding people to your photography can elevate something aesthetically pleasing into something memorable.

But navigating the delicate tightrope of including people into your photography can be daunting. With some deliberate decision making and thought ahead of time, it doesn’t have to be.

Understand the culture

When visiting somewhere new, especially if you’re there to take photos, one of the first settings I adjust is not on my camera, but rather in how I present myself and interact with others. And these settings are not dependent on the available light or the speed of the action, but on understanding the local culture.

Many places have cultural sensitivities or aversions that can get a reckless or unthinking photographer into trouble.

I lived in Morocco for two years and spent much of my time navigating the labyrinthine medinas in search of interesting compositions and compelling stories. But often what I found were cultural sensitivities that were just as difficult to navigate as the medinas themselves. Don’t take photos of men if they’re praying. Don’t take photos of women whether they are praying or not.

In one instance, while fancying myself somewhat like some invisible street photographer or a Bruce Gilden type, I was caught taking a man’s photo without his knowing in the middle of Ramadan. In response, the man chased me down the narrow market and rightly confronted me. It was a harsh lesson in respecting the local culture that completely shifted how I approached my photography.

Once I became aware of these sensitivities, I began to approach situations differently. I chose tighter focal lengths to create greater separation between myself and my subjects, and I started shooting with smaller, more compact cameras and lenses.

I have grown to love the Sony A7C II paired with the Sony 35mm f/1.8 prime as an excellent combination for most of my travel work, as the smaller body and prime lens appear less intimidating.

But, for places like Morocco, which can be highly photo-sensitive, a setup built around a smaller APS-C body, such as Fujifilm’s X-M5 or X-E series, paired with a tighter 50mm-equivalent lens like their relatively compact 35mm f/2 works particularly well.

Combined with a wider, compact prime such as the 18mm f/2, which offers a 28mm full-frame-equivalent field of view, this setup provides a strong balance between intimate detail shots and more contextual images within the narrow corridors of the medina, while keeping the kit as compact as possible.

And, while it might seem counterintuitive for photographers hoping to blend in and feel invisible, I found that always carrying my camera, either with a strap around my neck or simply in my hand, meant I needed fewer obvious movements to bring the camera up and take the shot. It also meant I was no longer hiding my intentions.

My camera was there, front and centre. I was not showing it off and I was not interrupting the scene, but I was also not hiding it.

The art of language

In addition to using a smaller setup, I also found myself smiling more and opening each interaction with the little Darija, the local dialect of Arabic, that I had learned. “Salaam, le bes? Alhamdulillah!” (Hello, how are you? Praise be to God!). What I discovered was that doors that once felt closed began to open on their own.

While in Morocco I had the luxury of time, I have found that even in places I am only visiting for a few days, learning simple phrases like “hello” and “how are you” can be enough to make someone smile.

This was especially the case when photographing women. Whilst I was still turned away more often than not, approaching my photography with the cultural awareness that photographing women was sensitive meant that my rejections were typically less confrontational than they had been prior.

And it’s this exact awareness that led me to take the photograph I am most proud of (you can see it below).

Whilst visiting local markets in the south of Iraq, another Arabic Muslim culture, I noticed some of the female vendors, clad in conservative black chadors, were marked with faded tattoos of intricate details.

Traditional face and hand tattoos, known locally as daq or washm, have roots that date back thousands of years to ancient Mesopotamia. But, much like the hands and face tattoos of the Amazigh in Morocco, these markings are a fading practice, considered sinful, or haram, in modern Islam for needlessly hurting one of Allah’s creatures.

As such, the woman before me may be one of the last generations to bear these markings. My awareness of this delicate situation not only informed me of the significance of these markings, but also of how to approach the situation with finesse.

Knowing that an unmarried man striking up an unprovoked conversation with this woman could be considered improper, I instead chose to buy a handful of potatoes to throw in my backpack.

After the ice was broken, mostly through pointing and a polite bow, I gently raised my camera and pointed at it for permission. She thought for a moment, then nodded.

I could have taken that photo with a longer lens or slammed my camera in her face without asking and dealt with the consequences later. But in approaching our interaction with respect and awareness, I was able to capture something I am proud of.

Much of this information can be learned ahead of time through Google searches and by reading blog posts or articles written by other photographers. However, it can also be learned on the ground by observing people’s body language as you walk the streets with your camera.

One way I like to begin every visit to a new city or place is by joining a free local walking tour. I’ve found that guides will often explain how people are likely to react to a camera and can also offer useful advice on interesting places to visit during your stay.

Look out for part two next week.