With black and white I escape from a world I don't like: sloppy, superficial, noisy and vulgar.
Black and white corresponds to entering a world apart, parallel, still cloaked in poetry and elegance.
WHY BLACK AND WHITE?
I live in a world that often feels like an assault on my senses: sloppy, superficial, noisy, vulgar. Colors shout at me from every corner, competing for attention, overwhelming me with their chaos. It’s too much. Sometimes it feels like I don’t belong here, like I’m out of place in this technicolor reality. And so I escape. I escape into a world apart, a world parallel to this one, but infinitely more quiet, more restrained, more elegant. I escape into black and white. In a more elegant world, listening jazz at night.
When I pick up my camera and look through the lens, I’m not just framing a scene, I’m already constructing an entirely different reality. It’s a world without noise, without excess, without the distractions that color so easily brings. In black and white, everything is simplified, reduced to its essence, but that doesn’t make it lesser. On the contrary, in that reduction, there is poetry. In that restraint, there is elegance.
I turn my back on the world as it is: the one that flashes and blares and tries to dazzle me. I want nothing to do with it. I create my own world with every shot I take. A world where light and shadow are the only languages that matter. A world where subtlety reigns over spectacle, and where the smallest detail, a wrinkle, a glance, the curve of a hand, speaks louder than all the noise of color ever could.
It’s not that I hate color. No, I know it has its place. But it’s become too easy. In this age of instant gratification, we don’t look beyond the surface anymore. We let color do all the talking, and we forget to listen to the deeper stories. In black and white, there are no shortcuts. You have to feel your way through an image. You have to stop and think, to really see. You have to pay attention.
Sometimes, I wonder if I chose black and white, or if it chose me. Did I step into this world because I was tired of the other one? Or was I always looking for a way to strip things back, to get closer to some truth I couldn’t find anywhere else? Maybe it’s both. All I know is that, with black and white, I feel at home. Here, there’s space to breathe, to observe, to discover beauty in simplicity.
When I capture a moment in black and white, I’m not just freezing time. I’m distilling it. I’m filtering out everything that doesn’t matter, leaving only what’s essential, the emotion, the structure, the core of the image. The distractions disappear, and all that remains is the truth, naked and raw. There’s something timeless in that, something that speaks to me on a deeper level.
In a way, today black and white photography is an act of rebellion. I dare to say that is a political act. It’s my way of saying no to the noise, no to the chaos, no to the vulgarity that dominates so much of modern life. It’s a refusal to be swept up in the tide of trends, the endless parade of colors that demand our attention but give us nothing of substance in return. I’ve never cared much for being part of the crowd, and black and white lets me stand apart. It allows me to return to something pure, something true.
Maybe that’s what I’ve been searching for all along: truth. Not the kind that shouts, but the kind that whispers. The kind that reveals itself slowly, over time, if you’re patient enough to look for it. Black and white is patient. It doesn’t rush. It doesn’t overwhelm. It waits for you to notice what’s really there, beneath the surface. It can be metaphysical and direct at the same time. That is perfect for my photography. I can see now that people gets my work better. While I showed last years that I can make a very good work in color, my choice reveals a decision, a precise decision that is better accepted: if you do both, people can't define you and this can also be detrimental in the business world. And I am a photographer who does this as a profession. My choice is certainly also linked to a discussion of a professional proposal because this decision encompasses all of my photography.
Black and white is my way of seeing, my way of understanding the world. It’s the lens through which I filter my experiences, my emotions, my ideas. It’s where I find meaning, where I feel grounded, where I can breathe.
So yes, I escape into black and white. Not to run away from reality, but to find a different one, one that makes sense to me, one that reflects the poetry and elegance that, too often, the world forgets.
AMBIENT LIGHT AND PORTRAIT
As a photographer, navigating the interplay between ambient light and the environment is both a challenge and an art. Whether working outdoors or within the confines of a specific locale, the variations in natural light become an integral part of the portrait-making process. Unlike controlled studio settings, here, you must adapt to what the environment offers, coaxing out the best from your subject while harmonizing with the surroundings.
Natural light encompasses the entirety of illumination present at a given place, time, and day. It’s a photographer’s task to decipher its nuances and leverage them effectively. Yet, equally crucial is the interaction with the individual being photographed. This person, willingly stepping into the frame, expects guidance and responsiveness to ensure their natural essence shines through.
Consider the scenario of capturing a portrait in a rural village like San Martin, away from bustling urban centers. Here, despite technological advancements reaching even remote corners, the approach differs significantly. The subject’s familiarity with being photographed may vary, shaped by local customs and personal comfort levels. For instance, in Tilcajete, known for its vibrant carnival and warm hospitality towards visitors, cultural sensitivity intertwines with artistic intent.
Reflecting on a recent portrait session, capturing the essence of a young woman in such a setting posed its own challenges and rewards. My aim was not to impose a conventional sense of fashion but rather to reveal her natural allure and dignity, akin to an indigenous princess. This approach eschews the glossy expectations of high-fashion magazines, opting instead for a portrayal that resonates with authenticity and cultural richness.
In the technical realm, the choice of a wide-angle lens allows for a broader embrace of ambient light, preserving the integrity of the environment while framing the subject with respectful distance. It’s about capturing the charisma and presence that initially drew my attention—a balance between the surroundings and the individual’s inherent charm.
Photography, especially portraiture, extends beyond mere documentation; it’s a dialogue, a visual semiotics where meanings are crafted and communicated. While critics might fixate on technical imperfections or idealized aesthetics, true portraiture transcends such constraints. It’s about conveying significance, embodying a narrative that speaks to the subject’s essence and context.
Ultimately, as a photographer, my role is to offer a perspective that not only captures but also interprets. It’s about translating moments into meaningful representations that resonate beyond the frame—a testament to the beauty found in authenticity and cultural diversity.
In conclusion, the art of portrait photography hinges on embracing the interplay of light, environment, and human connection. It’s a pursuit that requires not only technical prowess but also empathy, cultural understanding, and a keen eye for moments that transcend superficial beauty to reveal profound truths.
THE TRAGIC DANCE OF THE PHOTOGRAPHER
The photographer, an enigmatic yet grotesque figure, dances on the fine line between the present and the past. Immersed in fleeting moments, they manipulate light to freeze those moments that are destined to fade in the continuous flow of time. They are artisans of impermanence, aware that each shot is a pact with the past, an obsession with memory that crystallizes in grain and pixels.
The photographer is not merely a chronicler of the present; he is an alchemist of instant history. In his hands, the camera becomes a tool to capture the soul of today, weaving threads of emotions and details that future eyes will scrutinize to understand who we were.
In this dance between light and shadow, the photographer embraces their personal tragedy: being a witness to a changing world while trying to freeze it in static images. It's a struggle between the desire to stop time and the cruel awareness of its inevitable passage.
Thus, every photograph is an act of resistance against oblivion, a silent scream challenging time to erase what has been captured by the lens. In their gaze, the photographer continually renews the pact with the past, transforming the present into a mosaic of memories that defy time itself.
The photographer constantly deals with death. In doing so, they deny it, in a desperate attempt at immortality. Every click of the shutter is a challenge to fate, an attempt to fix the ephemeral in an eternal present. The camera becomes a sort of modern memento mori, reminding us all that every moment is destined to vanish, yet in film or pixels, it finds a new form of existence.
This battle against time is imbued with poignant poetry. Every portrait, every urban landscape, carries the awareness of human finiteness. Yet, in the cold mechanical click, there is human warmth, a humanity that shines through the lens. It's as if the photographer tries to hold onto a bit of life, a fragment of the soul, in the rigid and immutable frame of the image.
In their relentless work, the photographer confronts their own reflection. Each image is a window into their soul, an attempt to understand themselves and the world around them. Ferdinando Scianna, master of black and white, often spoke of this intimate relationship between photographer and subject, between capturer and captured. Just like Scianna, the contemporary photographer cannot escape this dance with death, this embrace with the infinite that each shot represents.
In every image, a truth is hidden that only the lens can capture. It is a silent truth, speaking through glances, gestures, shadows, and lights. The photographer is the interpreter of this wordless language, the mediator between the visible and the invisible. In their work, a constant tension is felt, a search for meaning that goes beyond mere visual documentation.
This quest for immortality, this struggle against oblivion, makes the photographer a tragic and fascinating figure. In their ongoing dialogue with death, the photographer finds a form of redemption, a promise of eternity that, even if fleeting, gives deep meaning to their existence.
The photographer, trapped between the moment and the eternal, not only faces death but also the superficialities of modernity. In an era dominated by algorithms and likes, the depth of photographic work risks being buried under a heap of fleeting images, designed to capture the attention of a distracted audience. The inequity of Instagram and social media, with their relentless pace and obsession with the new, often stifles what truly matters in photography: the ability to tell stories, evoke emotions, and stop time.
As a photographer, I confront this distorted reality daily. Photography, for me, has never been merely about aesthetics or popularity. It is a means to explore humanity, find beauty in the folds of everyday life, and give voice to those who often remain silent. My shift to black and white is not just a stylistic choice but a declaration of intent: to eliminate the superfluous and get to the heart of things. In a world saturated with gaudy colors and artificial filters, black and white becomes an act of resistance, a return to essence.
Instagram, with its relentless algorithms, rewards repetition and predictability. But true photography, the kind I love and practice, lives in unrepeatable moments, sudden insights, an unceasing quest for truth. It is work that requires time, patience, and a keen eye for detail. It is the ability to see beyond the surface, to capture the soul of people and places. Herein lies the tragedy of the modern photographer: struggling to maintain artistic integrity in a context that often neither understands nor values it.
I see photography as a form of dialogue, a silent conversation between the photographer and the world. Every shot is an attempt to better understand reality, to find meaning in the chaos. This approach sets me apart from current trends, where appearance counts more than substance, where the image is reduced to a commodity to gain fleeting attention. I seek depth, authenticity, that intimate connection that only true photography can offer.
The inequity of social media reflects a society that often rewards the ephemeral at the expense of the enduring. But in this disparity, I find my strength. My decision to photograph exclusively in black and white, focusing on portraits and street photography, is not just an aesthetic choice but a declaration of war against superficiality. It is a way to reaffirm that, despite everything, photography can still be a powerful means of expression, an art capable of touching the deepest chords of the human soul.
In this fragmented panorama, I remain a tragic and fascinating figure, a guardian of memories and truths. Like a modern Charon, I transport the souls of captured moments across the river of time, desperately trying to preserve their essence against oblivion. It is a relentless struggle, but also an act of hope, a promise that, despite the inequities of the present, the art of photography can still reveal the hidden truths of our world.
Mexico City, July 2024
TACTILE
Have you ever wondered how photography can represent material? I do, and I do it constantly. For example, I don't do anything with photographs that are just figurines, and I care that you can live an experience to the point of feeling yourself inside the photo.
This thing has become for me a priority of intent that inspires me to photograph certain things and to ignore others. For example photographing, just to do it, a series of people walking in front of me appears to be a sterile operation, and I like it when I manage to solve a composition through an aesthetic reason that supports the content. In the material, and in an almost tactile experience, I find refuge as an observer and creator of images.
In this sense, with this mental and creative approach, the studies done on certain landscape photographers who are or were well aware of how different the photographic medium was for example from the pictorial, or television or cinematographic medium are revealing to me. In the awareness of the partial truth of photography, as far as we can explore with our subjectivity but also with an aseptic attitude, almost as an extraterrestrial one that is suddenly called to record scenes without showing emotions, we can understand how a place can be a revealing heart of a society and therefore of the space that surrounds us.
And the heart of the document is there. A document that can be passionate or algid, but always testimony of something and therefore useful to others to understand. The picture that bears a lot of information is the one I like most, which I study, admire and try to do.
COLOR
Joel Sternfeld, great master of color photography, says that photographers must choose their own palette, as painters do. What is certain is that color photography has always undergone the taste and preferences of the photographer. Think of the saturated colors of Werner Herzog, the yellowish and greenish dominants of Stephen Shore, the full-bodied reds of William Eggleston then taken up again by Wim Wenders in the exploration of the American West that finds its archetype in the film "Paris, Texas".
Moreover, the natural vision of the world can also be monotonous and devoid of that personality which helps us to recognize the style of a photographer. Today, photography is above all digital, photographers can experiment much more, no longer bound to the results of the films and processes, thanks to the controls with a post-production software. Several camera manufacturers offer their jpegs with various filters, but the danger is just around the corner: the risk of finding a visual homogenization is even more exaggerated and probable.
It is up to us photographers, through study and I dare to also say good taste, knowing how to choose our way of narrating and this goes through the photographers who prefer color with the choices that are made both at the time of exposing and photographing and later, in post production. I photograph directly in jpeg, which is not however how many mistakenly think "let the camera do". First of all because you work is more similar like once was with the positive film, because the jpeg allows you less flexibility in the file management, and exactly for this reason the choice must be careful and well thought out before shooting.
Many cameras today allow you to change the parameters of white balance for example, and get as close as possible to what is our personal vision. I'm here to write these thoughts that are best known to myself. Object of reflection and self-analysis, they reflect part of my concerns that I have taken a long time in photographing in color. Then it happens to find boxes of old photos: dominant red, green, even blue.
A chemical exasperation that didn't even depend on us and that fills memories of atmospheres and fills them with unreality, in the middle between dream and real life. The shots of my father in Sardinia with a Russian and red camera, for reddish photos of an even redder earth. Rocks smoothed by the wind that promise desert, while the smell of myrtle caresses the nostrils. Cork and salt. Flashbacks that I can't grab. It's memory and vision. Acid is the photograph I learned to love. And the analysis becomes revelation.
ETHICS
Ansel Adams gave great value to the technical mastery of his profession, carefully evaluating the nuances of light in the image, manipulating the degree of exposure and constantly experimenting with new techniques.
Altogether with Imogen Cunningham and Edward Weston, he founded the group f / 64, dedicated to what they called "straight photography", in contrast to the images staged and embellished. Adams was also fundamental to the establishment of the photography department at the Museum of Modern Art, and animated by a sincere environmentalist spirit he was responsible for the creation of ad hoc laws on the preservation of nature reserves. This happens when a photographer, with his activity, does not think only of himself, but uses the photographic medium with awareness, ethics and responsibility.
The act of photographing should never be a selfish act, but aimed at making society better. The photographer, in his best expression, is one who is in love with the world and life, genuinely and sincerely turned towards others, in a continuous communicative exchange. No matter what type of photography you do. Respect and healthy curiosity, openness to life and in favor of the world we live in should always be placed at the center of our actions.
THOUGHTS OUT OF TIME AND SPACE
When we think of a good photo in general we come to mind the photograph of a master whom we appreciate because we have studied it, it has become familiar and therefore welcoming, even when it appears unattainable.
A mental operation that commits us to research into the archive that we hold in our memory and that requires an effort aimed at remembering that image. I sometimes ask my students to remember a photograph they particularly like, to try to describe it to me as much as possible, explaining to me how many more details come to mind. It is a very useful mental path that leads those who are remembering the image to understand better not so much about photography, but rather about themselves and what they consider important in a photographic image. The cognitive aspect that leads us to be attracted to certain photographs and, before that, to certain visual messages is the basis of what we will be as photographers and what we will be led to tell. Moreover, this mental exercise is useful for training the brain in that fundamental task of reading an image, which will then become simpler when the photograph is physically under our eyes.
Doing this, of these distracted times and volatile memories, becomes a gym for our perceptive ability. And it will be very useful, at a later stage, as the creator of images, becoming, in fact, a precious tool in our photographic approach.
The question to be asked is: what do we want from our photographing? Do we want it to be art, document or what? Do we want to use it just to stay healthy? Do we want to do it to communicate something we have inside and feel we deserve to be shown to others? Depending on the answers we will give, we will have a clearer picture of the situation, and perhaps we will actually be starting to listen to our inner voice, the one that allows us to express what WE have to say.
I both as a teacher and as a content proposer, both as a writer and as a photographer, I believe that photography and words walk together and the more we know how to use one and the other and the more we will be able to create interesting content. No, I'm not talking about using descriptions or titles to give strength to an image, but when we aspire to express concepts through our images, we will also need to know how to describe and talk over our photography. Just think of a synopsis of a photographic project. When we are already projected towards a photographic project the only images will not suffice. And this even with the awareness that the act of photographing leads to sensations that often cannot be described with words, in this sense a metaphysical component comes into play, linked to atmospheres and perceptions, for example certain intimate childhood memories, something we cannot or cannot grasp with words, but remains suspended inside us, hidden within us, real but impalpable. The ambiguity of photography is part of his magic. It surprises his own author.
The more we focus on conceptuality, the more indispensable the word will be. And the word, which goes neither dodged nor disgusted, is today a saving oasis, which dissociates us from the oppression of non-thought, from shooting and not thinking, from that extreme aestheticism that conditions, impoverishes and consumes shared photography today on the net, flattening it into the banality of homologation, of visual homogenization, of easy consent. Unfortunately, fewer and fewer people are reading, let alone wanting to read about photographs. When a photographer rewards us with a long explanation, with a wise essay of the path that led him to a certain work not only highlights the research carried out and the knowledge of the proposed theme, but actually acts by digging into deeper channels, and this indicates respect in that particular relationship that is established between author and user.
The most outstanding authors of each art have been and are distinguished people, capable of engaging in interesting discussions in many fields. I'm sorry but for this reason I can't and I don't want to believe the ignorant and mute photographer, the one who has nothing to say if he can't do it through his photos. Henri Cartier-Bresson, Stephen Shore, Carmelo Bene, Pier Paolo Pasolini, Paolo Villaggio, the first names coming to my mind, names of artists that went beyond their specialization and that show how much culture, knowledge and well-speaking leads the author towards a different dimension, much more stimulating, multifaceted, innovative. At this point, perhaps, we can understand how improvised photography that arrives proposed by those who do not have certain processing abilities remains mediocre, without a future, comparable to a crust in a neighborhood market.
Today more than ever we must expect that there is substance behind photographs. Or better yet, that there is someone who is not throwing things at random, but who shows knowledge and culture that allows him to go beyond the aesthetic result. Thoughts out of this time and this space, on a hot Mexican afternoon.
Alex Coghe, 2019 © - All Rights Reserved
ABOUT STREET PHOTOGRAPHY
Street photography, bro, is a wild beast prowling the urban jungle, capturing life in all its gritty, unfiltered glory – from the ironic to the tragic, the unpredictable to the cruel, and yes, even the rare moments of beauty that can be found amidst the chaos.
As a street photographer, I've heeded the call of the masters: Lee Friedlander, Garry Winogrand, Stephen Shore, and Joel Meyerowitz. I've adopted their straight-shooting ethos, zeroing in on raw content and untamed stories, eschewing heavy editing and flashy effects in favor of unadulterated truth. Street photography, in my view, is not about pumping up contrast or concocting contrived shadows; it's about what the photographer's keen eye and lived experiences reveal in the streets. It's about capturing the genuine, unfiltered essence of what I've witnessed.
I make no grand claims of being a maestro behind the lens, but one thing I pledge is unwavering honesty, beginning with myself and resonating through my photography. Street photography, you see, isn't merely a photographic style; it's a state of mind, a perspective, a way of apprehending the world.
A street photographer's grind is relentless, a daily odyssey through the concrete labyrinth. It's both the simplest and most intricate genre of photography. Simple because all you need is a camera and a sturdy pair of shoes. Complex because it requires an intimate understanding of aesthetics, motivation, and lateral thinking. And in the end, it's all about crafting an exceptional image.
Street photography is an art form, shaped by form, content, curiosity, emotion, and a bold artistic spirit. The only rival is oneself. It's a genre in perpetual metamorphosis, a mirror reflecting society's ever-evolving facets.
When I think of street photography, I prefer to invoke the notion of energy. The concept of the decisive moment, once paramount, has yielded to a more nuanced understanding. Today, street photography is about capturing the urban pulse, the palpable tension coursing through our cities.
But remember, street photography is more than just capturing public spaces; it's about embodying the street itself. To borrow a phrase from Bruce Gilden, "If you can smell the street by looking at the photo, it's a street photograph." That's the essence of it. Without a profound connection to the street, one cannot truly master this craft.
There are no boundaries in street photography. Attempts to impose limits smack of academic rigidity, and street photography is anything but academic. It's a wild, untamed beast.
In the annals of street photography history, Joel Meyerowitz, Lee Friedlander, and Garry Winogrand are like Black Sabbath, Deep Purple, and Led Zeppelin for metalheads. You might have personal preferences, but you can't ignore these giants. And if I were to choose a bible for street photographers, it would be "The Americans" by Robert Frank, a tome of immeasurable influence.
Composition? Content? Vision? Aesthetics? To truly stand out in street photography, one must possess something else: ideas. Fresh ideas that yield new and audacious photographs, images that defy the ordinary. Without them, you're just another ordinary photographer. That's why I admire those street photographers who venture beyond the comfort zones, charting their own course. I aim to do the same, whenever possible.
As a street photographer, I straddle the realms of film and digital without prejudice or snobbery. Yet, I have a soft spot for manual settings and compact, lightweight cameras that allow for seamless interaction with the streets. My experience has taught me that the old ways often yield the best results in street photography. I prefer to zone focus and peer through an optical viewfinder, feeling the city's pulse with every frame.
I'm enamored with every facet of street photography. I live for those moments on the streets, where adrenaline courses through my veins as I prepare to snap the shutter. I relish encounters with fellow street photographers, sharing ideas and perspectives.
Street photography, my friends, is well-worn shoes. It's that cafe rendezvous with a camera resting on the table, gazing out the window, attuning to the city's rhythm. It's a smile exchanged with a passing stranger. It's about experimentation, embracing mistakes, and the unfulfilled shots that linger in your mind. It's like staring at the ocean, awaiting that perfect wave. It's about forging ahead, even when fatigue threatens to consume you. It's seeing art in the mundane, a form of artistic existence that borders on zen meditation. It's a solitary moment with yourself. Street photography is what I crave.
One of the most enchanting aspects of street photography is its refusal to conform to political correctness. If you seek politeness in this genre, you're barking up the wrong street. Perhaps it's time to consider joining a golf club, my friend.
Street Photography Thoughts
Street photography for me is simply my way of living and seeing the world. It is about going out with my camera always, even if I go to the supermarket, and capture what attracts me. Some people think it is a photographic genre. For me it is an approach and a way of living photography that allows me to never get tired of having a camera with me.”
Alex Coghe - From the interview by Sergio Burns on streetphotography.com
Street photography is both a school and a gym; the lessons learned and the discipline honed on the streets equip us to excel in any other genre we choose to explore."
Alex Coghe
"Street photography thrives in the flow, transforming the ordinary into the extraordinary. It's a deeply personal journey where the photographer's experience and creativity define the art, making it more a personal expression than a mere genre."
Alex Coghe