The cucumber syndrome

Street Photography is not that the festivals are imposing.

Look better. At the entire panorama. There are a lot of great street photographers in the world. And no, they are not the same names. And no, they are not those winning awards in the festivals. Festivals are organized, mostly, to raise up money.

The organizers are, at the most, mediocre photographers. And since they can't count on a good personal portfolio, they have found a way to stay within photography, become a little famous, but in reality all this creates dynamics in which mediocrity is rewarded. The best street photography is certainly that which incorporates elements of the old school as a documentation of the human condition because it is truly interested in people, but to do this you must have a genuine interest in people, as well as having a higher education than average.

Simply what has imposed itself after the boom of street photography is a superficial photography. But why are the Taylor Swifts of photography celebrated and not the Diamanda Galas? Because that way anything is more easy. By now everyone recognizes that at festivals we already know what stuff will win and that we will find ourselves without surprises, with photos that are always the same from year to year.

Why we photograph? Why we go out with a camera? Why, at a certain point, street photography became synonymous with the daddy's boy who enters all the photography competitions? Because we are living the wannabe era. People don't want to study or work anymore. Everyone wants to be an influencer. When you talk to these photographers you realize that apart from the famous names, they know very little about photography.

But do they really think that street photography is Alex Webb, Martin Parr and Bruce Gilden. At most Vivian Maier. For some, Daido Moriyama is already very underground. Then... the darkness. And let's not talk about literature. That a self-respecting photographer, I'm talking about an author photographer, should be interested in the same way as in cinema. But you know how this world is: there are immense ignoramuses even among doctors and lawyers.

Stop to think that Street Photography is the one presented through these festivals. Look who is making real documentation of the human condition. What? I can listen them, the daddy’s boy voice arguing that is demanded to documentary. And that is the main error: street photography is part of documentary, and despite we can play with reality, street photography can’t be referred to satisfy the ego of these wannabes. Or rather, it can do it, but it won't last over time.People is starting to understand it: those visual jokes are for loosers. Loosers that win the festivals because they are rewarded by other loosers…stupid and incompetent judges.

THE FESTIVALS ARE NOT RELEVANT IN ORDER TO UNDERSTAND WHAT IS GOOD IN STREET PHOTOGRAPHY. NOT ANYMORE, PROBABLY NEVER BEEN RELEVANT

So where we are going? And what to do now?

The problem with street photography today is that it’s been hijacked by those with no real connection to the streets. The festivals, the competitions—they’ve turned it into a game for those who don’t care about the craft, about people, about the moments that make street photography what it is. The mediocrity being rewarded isn’t just a sign of poor judging; it’s a reflection of a deeper issue. The best street photographers have always been those who engage with the world around them on a human level. They don’t just see people; they understand them. They don’t just capture images; they tell stories. But what we have now? A parade of empty images designed for clicks and likes, not for lasting impact.

You see, street photography was always about documenting the human condition. Not in some romanticized or overly polished way, but in raw, honest detail. And that’s the problem with the festivals—they reward polish over substance. The work being celebrated feels like it was created to win, not to last. This obsession with perfection, with slick aesthetics, has stripped street photography of its soul. It used to be about grit, about getting close to real life, capturing the messiness and unpredictability of people and cities. Now, it’s all about who can create the cleanest, most “festival-friendly” shot.

What they don’t understand is that street photography should challenge us, provoke us, and force us to look at the world differently. The photographers who do this aren’t interested in visual gimmicks. They don’t care about impressing the festival circuit. Instead, they immerse themselves in their environments, often with a camera that’s not even the latest or the best on the market, but one that helps them tell the story they need to tell. It’s the difference between a photographer who goes out to make a statement and one who goes out just to shoot what everyone else is shooting.

I’m tired of seeing the same visual tropes, the same empty compositions that look like they’ve been ripped from an Instagram filter catalog. This trend toward superficiality is killing the spirit of street photography. And it’s not just about what gets celebrated at the festivals; it’s about the culture that surrounds it. People are more interested in building a personal brand than building a body of work. They’re more focused on how they’re perceived than on what they’re actually saying with their images.

There’s a reason why the real work doesn’t make it to the festival stage, because the people behind these events wouldn’t know what to do with it. The images that matter, the ones that will last, aren’t made for a panel of clueless judges. They’re made for history. They’re made to be revisited decades from now when people want to understand what life was like in this era. Those who are truly pushing street photography forward are the ones who are thinking beyond today’s trends

And let’s be real, the wannabes who flock to these competitions aren’t doing the work. They’re chasing an image of success that has nothing to do with being a great photographer. They’re influencers, not artists. They might know the big names, but they don’t understand the work behind those names. They throw around references like Alex Webb or Bruce Gilden, but ask them about the depth, the philosophy, the history behind the work, and you get blank stares. They haven’t done the reading, they haven’t studied. And in a genre like street photography, where understanding people, culture, and even politics is key, that ignorance is fatal.

Street photography isn’t about playing it safe, following trends, or trying to appeal to the lowest common denominator. It’s about documenting life. Real life. And real life is messy, unpredictable, and often uncomfortable. The photographers who get this are the ones who will leave a lasting legacy. They’re not interested in the applause of today because they know their work will speak for itself long after the festivals have come and gone.

The truth is, the festivals are irrelevant. They’ve probably never been relevant in terms of pushing the craft forward. If anything, they’ve become a distraction, a way for people with no real understanding of the medium to feel important. The best work is happening outside of those spaces, and the people who really care about photography know that. It’s happening in the streets, in the hands of those who understand that to photograph people, you need to care about them, not just their surface.

After laying bare the flaws of modern street photography and the festival-driven mediocrity, let’s talk about where street photography can go from here. The truth is, the essence of the genre has always thrived outside of the mainstream, away from the spotlight and the endless cycles of validation that today’s culture is obsessed with. So what’s next for real street photography, the kind that matters?

First, we need to redefine the photographer’s role in society. There’s too much emphasis now on aesthetics and gear, and not nearly enough on content, context, and purpose. Street photography at its best is about observation, not participation in a circus of trends. A street photographer is like a silent witness, someone who captures reality without disrupting it, someone who sees value in the unnoticed. But today, it seems like too many are more interested in being seen themselves rather than seeing the world.

I believe the future of street photography lies in reconnecting with its roots: empathy, curiosity, and patience. If you look at the masters, whether it’s Cartier-Bresson or Garry Winogrand, it wasn’t about perfect composition or impeccable technique. It was about feeling, about being tuned into the pulse of the streets. The next generation of street photographers needs to dig deeper, not just with their cameras, but with their minds and hearts. They need to ask better questions. Instead of just snapping moments, they should be asking: What does this image reveal about the human experience? How does it connect us to a broader narrative about life, culture, or society?

There’s also a growing need to reject this obsession with immediacy. The digital age has created a frantic pace, where everything is instant, disposable, and forgotten within a few hours. Real street photography, however, demands time. It demands lingering in a moment, waiting for the right interaction, for the right gesture, for the soul of the scene to reveal itself. In a world of endless scrolling, we need to teach ourselves and others to slow down. This is where the future of the genre lies, in the ability to create work that forces the viewer to stop, to reflect, and to question.

Another crucial aspect of street photography’s future will be its ability to stay relevant in a world that’s rapidly changing. We can no longer pretend that street photography exists in a vacuum, as if the political, social, and environmental crises around us don’t impact the streets we document. The photographer of tomorrow will need to engage with these issues. Whether it’s the growing inequality in cities, the impacts of climate change on urban landscapes, or the cultural shifts brought about by migration, street photography must be more than just a visual exercise, it needs to be a way to engage with the world’s pressing issues.

One major opportunity is how we, as photographers, can harness new technology without letting it define us. Digital tools, smartphones, and AI are all part of our reality now, and while they offer new ways of creating and sharing, they can’t replace the human element that makes street photography unique. The future will belong to those who learn to use these tools as complements to their vision, rather than as crutches. We need to remind ourselves constantly that the camera is just a tool, but our eyes, minds, and experiences are what truly create meaningful work.

We should also consider where we share our work. The galleries and festivals are, at this point, not the spaces where change is going to happen. The real revolution in photography will happen in the alternative spaces, online, in zines, in independent publications, on the walls of neighborhoods, in personal projects shared directly with communities. Photographers who care about the work, not the accolades, will be the ones leading this charge. These are the photographers who are experimenting with new ways to present their images, who are finding intimate ways to connect with an audience that doesn’t need the permission of institutions to tell them what’s good.

The real question we should be asking is: who are we making this work for? If you’re making it for judges, followers, or influencers, you’re lost before you even begin. But if you’re making it because you have something to say, because you have something to show the world that only you can see, then you’re on the right path. The future of street photography won’t be found in following trends or mimicking others. It will come from photographers who are willing to carve out their own lane, who trust their own vision, and who understand that the streets are full of stories waiting to be told, if only we slow down enough to see them.

Finally, street photography has always been, and always will be, about freedom. But the freedom I’m talking about isn’t the superficial freedom of going wherever you want with a camera, it’s the freedom to think for yourself, to shoot for yourself, and to create work that challenges both you and your audience. It’s about breaking free from the pressure to conform, to impress, to win. Street photography is an act of rebellion, a way to push back against a world that’s obsessed with perfection and instant gratification.

And maybe that’s the best thing about street photography. It doesn’t care if it’s celebrated. It doesn’t need festivals or awards to matter. All it needs is someone willing to look beyond the surface, to see the world for what it is, and to show the rest of us what we’ve been missing.

So, where does street photography go from here? It goes where it’s always gone, out into the world, with open eyes and an open mind. Away from the noise, and back to the streets where it belongs. ONLY THIS WAY WE CAN BE WITNESSES OF OUR TIME…WAS NOT THE MAIN GOAL OF STREET DOCUMENTARY OR SOCIAL REPORTAGE?