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

Make a connection

Not every culture is as photo sensitive as Morocco or Iraq, and how you approach developing relationships and showing respect can differ based on where you are in the globe. In rural Romania, it could look like sharing a drink of palinca with the locals.

In Japan it can look like giving people space and silence. And in Mexico it can be as simple as having a laugh or treating people without judgement. But one thing that has been universal is the power of a warm smile.

It can seem somewhat counterintuitive, as a person smiling in travel photography can sometimes look like your subject has “broken character” or is simply posing for the photo. And yet, it’s maybe the most useful piece of gear I have in my camera bag.

Even when taking street photography or capturing images of religious ceremonies, I seldom try to hide the camera and instead try to put forward an authentic and friendly version of myself.

In my experience, in being transparent and clear with my intention, people are less intimidated when I take their photo and, ironically, when discretion is desired, they pay less attention to me when I don’t present myself as though I have something to hide.

And when I am seen taking a photo of someone unawares, diffusing the situation is often as easy as a gentle smile, a wave, and turning the screen to face them so they can have a look.

In the very rare instances where someone is displeased, or asks me to delete an image, whilst technically I know that in most countries I don’t legally “have to”, I believe no one photo is worth more than someone’s comfort or dignity.

I once met a photographer in India whose approach to photographing people was very different from my own. He told me my images felt manufactured, which is probably a fair criticism of some of my work, and went on to argue that “real” photography only happens when a subject doesn’t know they’re being photographed.

When I looked through his images, many of them were exceptional, and I couldn’t deny the strength of his eye. Still, something about the conversation unsettled me. I found myself thinking about the distance between photographer and subject, and what it means to make an image without ever acknowledging the person within it.

Ultimately, there’s no single right or wrong way to photograph people. Different approaches carry different intentions, risks, and rewards. But for me, photographing people has only ever made sense when the person comes before the photo.

That perspective has shaped not just the images I’ve made, but the experiences that surround them. It has led to moments where a camera becomes an icebreaker, an invitation to share palinca or tacos, or a way of being welcomed, however briefly, into someone else’s world.

I’m not sure I could say the same if I felt my camera mattered more than the people framed within its viewfinder. ❂