Sometimes You Need to Put the Camera Down and Experience the Moment

The advancement of camera technology since the inception of photography has moved from a process being undertaken in slow time to one that is now predominately instantaneous. With the means to see images immediately from the point of capture, whether on the back of a camera, a mobile phone or other device, combined with various methods to share these images quickly through compatible digital technologies such as social media, instant messaging or email, the world around us is now in a constant state of capture.

Much like the traditional method of sending a postcard back to family or friends, sharing moments from our lives through photography essentially makes the same statement “I was here". However, as convenient as it is, the eagerness to capture that moment could on occasion be counterproductive as you might overlook the actual experience of being there. How many of us have been in a situation where something catches your eye and the instinctive reaction is to try and capture the moment with a camera and then just as you are about the press the shutter, the moment passes and you have no image to show for your effort, then quickly followed by some regret at missing out on the actual experience? Even if you did grab that fleeting image or indeed, on those occasions when you had the time to set up and capture an image, have you ever reflected whether you got the chance to immerse yourself in the moment and did the image fully replicate the feelings and emotions of being there?

I appreciate there will be genres of photography where these questions may not be as pertinent as what would be the personal experience or emotions when undertaking product photography for example (no disrespect to product photographers intended)? However, for many of us, photography is viewed as a connection to the world around us and whilst the moment of pressing the camera shutter freezes time, it cannot hold the presence (the experience) of that moment. If all our attention is diverted towards the technical aspects of capturing the image, is there a risk of the connection being weakened and photography being more of a record of being there, as opposed to the experience of being there?

I will admit to being guilty in the past to having a bit of a blinkered approach to my photography work, probably on the basis of coming from a process driven environment in the Fire and Rescue Service. Much of what I done was influenced by legislation, policies, procedures, standard operational procedures and operational command doctrines. 8 years ago when I started my photography journey in earnest, I was learning the rudimental aspects of in-camera techniques and post processing approaches, so for me capturing the image was my priority back then.

These days I take a more measured approach and as well as capturing the image, I also try be mindful about the scene before me and as much as possible, appreciate my surroundings. This enables me to forge a more meaningful connection to the subject and create a lasting impression that still resonates with me when I eventually process what I captured previously, at a later date.

One such moment arose during my recent trip to Paris in August when I visited the Louvre as I wanted to capture the museum courtyard and the glass pyramid which facilitates entry into the museum. I knew from previous unsuccessful attempts in 2023 & 2024, the courtyard area during the opening hours of the museum would be extremely busy and even utilising a long exposure setting, the chances of getting a clean shot devoid of people would be extremely difficult. As my latest visit was during the summer, I elected to visit the museum on a Friday evening at 6pm with the intention of waiting until the courtyard cleared after the museum closed. With sunset close to 9pm, I planned to set up my composition and wait until an opportunity arose to capture the image I wanted for my collection.

The one flaw in my plan was I didn’t check the museum opening hours correctly, as on arrival, I noticed visitors were still entering the museum at what I thought was the museum’s closing time. A subsequent look online at the Louvre’s website confirmed Fridays was one of 2 evenings where the museum was open until 9pm (I thought there was only 1 late opening on a Wednesday). With closure coinciding with sunset, I knew that it would be highly unlikely that the courtyard would be empty enough before then, so I took the decision not to stick around and headed back to my hotel as I had an early start the next morning back at La Defense. I therefore decided to return to the Louvre at 6pm on Sunday evening to try again.

On the Sunday morning, I headed off from my hotel to the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur de Montmartre at 5-15am as I wanted to be at this location for sunrise. On exiting the metro station at Anvers, I walked up the hill towards the public gardens only to find the gates to the gardens locked. With my basic grasp of French, I established the gardens were not open until 9am. It was now around 6-15am and with my initial plan thwarted, I needed to come up with an alternative plan to start my day.

At this point I thought back to the Friday evening and a chance conversation I had with one of the security guards at the Louvre. During my discussion, I asked if the courtyard area was accessible prior to the museum opening and the guard confirmed it opened at 7am. Checking the metro app on my phone, the route to the Louvre from Anvers involved 2 metro trains with a total journey time of 27 minutes so I quickly legged it back down hill to the station and headed for the museum. On exiting the metro station across the road from the Louvre, I saw a security guard opening one of the gates that afforded access into the courtyard area. I also noticed at this point there was nobody else standing waiting to enter through the gate.

Wasting no time, I made my way to the courtyard area and headed to the spot I had identified on the Friday evening that would enable me to capture the image I was after. I took my backpack off and sat down in the courtyard. I then set up my camera and captured an image. It was at this moment the realisation of having the place to myself hit me, so rather than continuing to capture more images, I sat there for a few minutes. Having gone from the acceptance of not capturing the image the evening before, to the frustration of not getting into the gardens at the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur de Montmartre at sunrise, here I was now sitting in the courtyard of the Louvre and more importantly, I was sitting alone taking in the scene before me. I sat there, content with my own thoughts, letting my eyes move from the glass pyramid to around the courtyard, surveying the carvings that adorned the walls with the first rays of the rising sun hitting the roof tops of the museum. For about ten minutes I had the place to myself and then I caught a glimpse of someone else entering the courtyard, so I captured some additional images from where I initially set up.

Eventually the solitude was completely broken as a wedding photographer along with a bride and groom arrived and took up a position in front of me, so I moved around the courtyard to capture a few more images and by this time a Tik Toker/Instagrammer, a couple of early morning joggers, a few other photographers and the first wave of museum tourists were now milling about the courtyard. When I finished capturing these other images, I packed up my gear and made my way back to the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur de Montmartre just in time for the caretaker opening the gates to the public garden.

Looking back on that moment at the Louvre, it reaffirmed that “presence” (the experience of the moment) can transform photography from a mechanical act into an emotional one and moving you from a position of taking photos to one where you’re making them. Of course, I’m not suggesting that you forgo the chance to capture an image and just stand there to take in a scene first as images still have the ability tell a powerful story or invoke a strong emotion. The sweet spot in photography is knowing when to use the camera and knowing when to simply look. In the aftermath of capturing your image, take some time to reflect on what you captured and ask yourself, what drew you to that moment and how did it make you feel?

Hopefully taking this approach keeps your photography rooted within emotion and not merely a case of going through the motion of capturing an image.  In time, keeping that strong connection to your photography may lead you to the premise, that some moments aren’t meant to be photographed. They are perhaps some instances that are better living inside you because photography isn’t just about capturing what you see, it’s also about feeling what you see and holding on to those feelings long after the moment has elapsed.

We are now in a new phase of creativity with the advent of Artificial Intelligence (AI) and the debate regarding the impact of AI will naturally create various points of view with those supporting it, those against it and the remainder somewhere in between these 2 positions. There is no doubt the advancements in AI will continue and there may be a time when an image captured by a camera or other device will be indistinguishable from one that was created by AI but there will be one fundamental difference lingering as the achilles heel of AI.

For the time being, I doubt recalling AI prompts used to create an image will awaken a memory or an emotion when you look back at the AI image nor will it instil the feelings that are derived from witnessing a scene with your own eyes. One day we may reach a point where AI can implant experiences into our sub-consciousness much like in the movie Total Recall and if that’s the case, I wonder how it would feel looking at the architecture on Mars 😊.