There’s a famous quote in photography by the late, great Robert Capa: “If your photos aren’t good enough, you’re not close enough.” Every photographer has probably been introduced to this concept throughout their career. It’s a statement that I’ve had plastered across my head when I get out into the street to make photographs. I’m constantly playing a dance between showing enough of the environment and getting close enough to illustrate the moment effectively.
Early on, I constantly thought of this quote in terms of physical proximity to my subjects. My interpretation pushed me closer and closer, hoping that I’d make something more meaningful if I closed the gap by just a couple more inches. As I’ve grown as a photographer though, I’ve realized that there’s another aspect of getting closer that has nothing to do with physical distance. Instead, think of getting closer as in developing meaningful relationships with the individuals you’d like to photograph.
Personally, I’ve seen this play out in much of my work, but it’s been the most meaningful in photographing the skateboarding community here in New York City. I moved to New York in 2021 and started visiting the Lower East Side skatepark. I had known about the park long before moving to the city because I grew up skateboarding in the Midwest. Still, I had been out of the skateboarding world since my college days, and wasn’t sure how to pursue a meaningful body of work in the community.
Like many photographers who visit the park, I started photographing from the sidelines. I took my Rollei 35RF, Voigtlander 35mm f2.5 Color Skopar, and a few rolls of HP5, setting up a station on the outskirts of the park. It was quickly, and painfully, obvious that the 35mm focal length was going to require me to get closer to make meaningful photographs. If we’re being honest, even a 50mm wouldn’t have helped. I was too far from the action and sitting on the sidelines meant that the best creative perspectives were missed.
After a few days lingering at the park, I built up the courage to photograph a skater, Joaquin, who was visiting New York City for Christmas. Joaquin allowed me to get close, within a couple feet to photograph his 360 flip. This photograph opened up a new world of skate photography for me. It became a tool to open up conversation and showcased my capability. Before too long, I had leveraged that one photograph into a short session with a local skateshop, which gave me the confidence to spend more time at the skatepark. I quickly developed some bonds, people who would speak for me when I asked to photograph a situation.
I started to attend every skate event I could, saying “hi” to those I knew and asking them to introduce me to others in the crowds. Before too long my circle grew. The number of unknown faces in a crowd started to diminish as I attended more events throughout the year. And by this point, I had developed a higher confidence in photographing skateboarding. I could enter a scene, knowing how to find the right angles and communicate the process clearly to the skater. Shooting on digital meant that I could show the images in real time, get feedback, and make adjustments to come away from these sessions with a meaningful body or work. I’ve now been photographing skateboarding in NYC and beyond for a few years at a regular pace. I’ve built some incredible friendships and made some photographs that I still look at in wonder.
Despite my much more robust portfolio, that first photograph of Joaquin stands out as a favorite. It’s a photograph that opened a whole new world for me, one that helped me explore a sport I was passionate about but also helped me learn so much about myself in the process.
If you’re struggling to make a meaningful body of work, try exploring a topic you care about. Find a community that speaks to you and ask to be present. You never know what doors will open for you.
