I met Moses Adolphe as I was walking south down Sherbourne Street on a hot mid-July day when bodies were strewn across the lawn in front of the Moss Park arena “while the lizards lay crying in the heat” to quote a David Bowie song. This is the closest I’ve ever come to getting into a fight when I’m out shooting street photos. Not because of Moses, but because one of the lizards who lay crying in the heat said he wanted to take my picture with my camera and I told him no. He really wanted to get his hands on my camera and I really wanted him to fuck off. It looked like we were going to get into it (and with 20 or 30 of his homeless friends looking on, I didn’t stand a chance) when Moses came up to us like a dolphin swimming amongst the sharks.
Moses was soft-spoken and, whether he intended it or not, he defused the situation. The guy who wanted my camera went back to his place on the grass and Moses and I had a brief chat. I asked if he’d mind me taking his photo and he was happy to pose. When I was done, he wanted to see. I think this is one of the great advantages of digital vs. film. One of the most important moments in an encounter like this comes when you show the person the images you’ve made. You can’t do that with film.
As you thumb through the images, implicitly, what you say to them is: “I see you.” I can’t emphasize enough the importance of seeing the people you photograph. The need to be seen is a fundamental need, no less important than access to food and shelter. Without the sense that we are seen, that we matter, that we take up space in the real world, we wither and die. Street photographers are ideally positioned to offer such an affirmation.
