My Favorite Photograph
I grew up in an age when cameras and social media were all too accessible. I had a Myspace, a Facebook, a Snapchat - I have TWO instagram accounts. It feels like photos are everywhere, all the time. I still remember the first time my mom gave me a disposable camera. It was for my fifth grade trip to Sky Ranch, and I remember feeling like each frame was precious. I couldn’t take photos of everything, I had to be strategic. I just remember the anticipation and sheer joy of getting the photos back from CVS. I don’t think I have any usable photos from that trip, if I do, I have no idea where they are.
In high school, I upgraded to being the “digital camera friend.” I brought my camera everywhere and I had hundreds of photos of peace signs and parties. I remember feeling the pressure of choosing the perfect album name on Facebook, slaving away over edits of photos I have no evidence of now. Every photo seemed important, every “like” was crucial. I deleted my Facebook account a few years ago, and my mom said that I would regret losing those photos. She was kind of right.
My mother is obsessed with photos. That woman loves to pose. I cringe every time she asks me to take her photo, but I try to indulge her when I can. A few years ago, we were going through a box of old photographs when she mentioned that she lost years of photos when she moved from Japan. That box was all she had, and without that documentation, her memories were at the risk of being warped or forgotten. Memories get distorted, physical photos do not.
My appreciation for photography has grown over time. Now, I stop to think about the stories behind the photo and the people behind the camera. I can form opinions about why I like or dislike a photo, but I can’t always tell you why. I’m learning.
I remember getting my first DSLR camera in 2017. I asked for it on a whim, and I think it’s because I wanted to take better photos for my Instagram account. I know that’s embarrassing, but at least I didn’t lie to you. My father was the one to get me the camera, and he subsequently became my first subject. It’s funny, because years later, he is the subject of my favorite photograph.
I genuinely think this is the best photo I’ve taken (so far). I want to tell you why I think it’s good, or maybe why I like it so much:
The framing - I am a sucker for a frame within a frame. A more experienced photographer might tell you that I followed the rule of thirds, which helped the composition of the image. I’ll tell you that I like doorways and what they represent - leaving and entering somewhere new. A doorway is a liminal space - an in-between. I love capturing that moment in-between, and not knowing what my subject is walking into.
The light - When I look at this photo, I consider it to be perfectly lit. The light was natural, and I was standing outside as the subject was in the doorway. The light and dark parts are balanced, even with the contrast of the whitest shirt I’ve ever seen.
The subject - My father is not smiling, but his face is exactly “him.” He doesn’t smile in photos, he never has. I usually have to do or say something silly to get him to crack a smile, and I have to take a photo as quickly as possible before it’s gone. I love his furrowed brow and the crinkles in his expression are so clear. There’s just something so human about this photograph.
The moment - Nothing about this image was posed. I just happened to be testing a new lens when my father came looking for me. I was quick enough to catch him at the door. I didn’t ask him to “do that again.” I didn’t ask him to smile. I didn’t think about the image before I pressed the button. Everything about this image is real and unplanned.
For context, my father was looking for me, because I promised to cut his hair. I’d never done it before, and I ended up doing a bad job. I actually love that I have this “before” photo, because the haircut was truly bad. I basically made him bald. I love that you can see all the grey hair, knowing that he went fully grey at 19 so he’s most himself with grey hair. I’ll dye it for him sometimes, but I prefer it this way. Everything about this image feels familiar to me, down to the door to the backyard with my parents’ kitchen in the background. I really love everything about this photograph, and that’s why it’s my favorite.
I’ve come a long way since that fifth grade school trip. My fascination with photography comes in waves, sometimes I’ll be really excited and want to learn everything I can. Recently, I haven’t been taking my camera out as much. I am easily overcome with imposter syndrome. I’ve spent too much time with trained photographers to think that it will be easy for me. I kind of like that it’s challenging and something I haven’t figured out yet. Not everyone is a photographer, despite everyone having a phone in their pocket. I’m not even sure that I would consider myself a photographer, I’m just a girl that likes to take photos.
I’ve recently returned to my fifth grade self and gotten back into film photography. I know, it’s the trendy thing to do. I like not knowing how the photos come out on a digital screen. I like that things can be blurry and imperfect - haphazard, if you will. With my digital camera, I tend to overthink and miss the photo entirely. With my film camera, I can click and move on. I’ll see what it ends up looking like months later (shout out to the team at Lumentation in Somerville for developing my rolls of film). Here are some of my recent film photos below:
I’m looking forward to taking more photos this year. Maybe I’ll have a new “favorite photograph.” It’s okay if I don’t. I already have this one.
