Forever a Student of Light, But Not Its Servant
I will always be a student of light. It’s the one element of photography that continues to humble me, surprise me, and draw me into deeper reflection. Light is fundamental, there’s no photograph without it. Yet, when it comes to photographing on the street or working in a documentary style, I no longer pin the success of an image solely on it.
Henri Cartier-Bresson once described light as being like “the perfume” in a photograph, an added layer of beauty, an atmospheric extra. But for him, as for me, it was never the soul of the image. What mattered more were the bones, the composition, the geometry, the moment of form that unfolded in front of the lens. These were the heartbeat. Light was a lavish extra that elevated an already strong structure, not something that could rescue a weak frame.
This understanding marks a shift in my own photographic journey. When I first began studying and practicing photography, my heart belonged to the landscape. And in landscape photography, light is everything. I would chase it relentlessly, scanning forecasts, calculating the sun’s angle, rushing to locations, hoping for that fleeting slant of illumination that could transform the ordinary into the sublime. And yes, sometimes it was magical. But more often, it was frustrating. The light didn’t show up, or it showed up somewhere else, and the photographs didn’t happen.
That taught me something crucial: while light can lift a photograph into something extraordinary, it can also become a tyrant if you let it rule your choices. I still strive to understand light, how it shapes a scene, softens or sharpens emotion, adds dimension, or obscures detail. But I no longer allow it to dictate what, or when, I photograph.Thanks to Bresson Im no longer a slave to the perfect light.
On the street or in documentary work, the decisive moment doesn’t wait for the golden hour. Life doesn’t pause for good weather, or the right shadows. You move with the world, and the world reveals something to you and tou must be ready to shoot with no hesitation. If the light is beautiful, that’s a gift. If it isn’t, you still make the photograph.
Because in those moments, it’s not about perfection. It’s about presence, composition, and the truth of what’s unfolding. And if the light is there, let it perfume the frame - but if it isn’t, shoot anyway.