Street photography in Cheltenham was a new experience fo me. In recent years I only visited the town occasionally to shoot football matches, quick in-and-out trips, never hanging around. But having studied my A-Levels there in the late 1990s, and living in the town for about 18 months in my mid 20s, I always felt mildly nostalgic for the place. Finally, a chance to get some street photography down the lens presented itself in April 2022.
Like nearby Gloucester, Bristol and Bath, the history and culture of Cheltenham imposes itself, often through distinctive Georgian architecture. I was struck, as usual, by how different it feels to towns and cities over the bridge in Wales. A short distance over the border in England, you find more obvious history, grandiosity, some might even say pomposity. Walking around the town, you can’t escape the feeling that Cheltenham, its buildings and its people, are all rather posh. It’s like an early step on the privileged golden pathway onto Oxford, and then to London.
[Visit the 2015 piece about street photography in Oxford]
There’s a sense of history in the surroundings and artwork, some of which is amusing to play with in contrasting against the modern.
Street photography still stimulates me as a photographer, probably more than any other kind. It is a type of photography where I feel most creatively and enjoyably alive, alert, present, and in the moment. It comes without the stressful pressure of having to operate because you are a professional, working on a job, being watched, getting paid to capture and deliver specific pictures within a certain time frame, pictures of a kind you have probably taken countless times before. With most street photography, unless of course you’re working on a specific commission, you are always in the midst of a uniquely unrepeatable moment of people just going about their lives. And you might capture nothing of any real value. In fact, you probably most often won’t. Your keepers’ ratio might feel unfairly disproportionate to the time you spent wandering around. But it doesn’t really matter.
The shooting process itself is almost pleasing enough in isolation, without considering the sift and edit and general file administration of the results. That can all feel like a tedious labour in comparison. Pacing streets, observing, waiting for people to align, shooting, moving, thinking: that all feels kind of like sketching or drawing or doodling with humans, usually without their awareness, so it can also feel risky or cheeky or reckless at times. Which adds a small voyeuristic buzz.
[Visit the 2019 piece about street photography in Gloucester]
These days I often shoot slyly from the hip, carrying the camera casually, discreetly, little finger on the shutter button, sometimes facing in the opposite direction to my lens, settings already calculated, trusting in the autofocus. Of course, when shooting like this I’m never entirely confident if my intended focus or composition will be achieved until afterwards. There’s some appeal in the anticipation, the surprise of discovery, but it usually ends in disappointment. If that had just been a millimetre the other way, a second earlier, or later, a slightly wider lens. Fine margins.
