The photographer Mariana Yampolsky avoided taking pictures of people’s most intimate moments, sacrificing what would have certainly been compelling photographs to respect the emotions of the people around her. Similarly, the painters of the Ashcan School explicitly deemed it more important to be a person of good conscience and deeds than to produce great artwork (though they achieved both). I feel similarly compelled to prioritize my effect on the people around me over my artistic or documentary work.
As the last rays of afternoon light were falling over a picturesque mountain town in Venezuela, not far from where I stood I spotted a group of children egging on two boys who were locked in combat, wrestling and ferociously striking one another. Since the path was narrow, the fighting boys were fully visible, as were the expressions and body language of the spectators - all illuminated beautifully by the setting sun. Thinking both of the damage the boys might inflict on one another and the impression an outsider photographing the discord would leave on anyone within eyesight, I refrained from taking any shots and instead hurried over to break up the meleé. The beauty and violence of the scene remain etched in my memory— but are not imprinted on a single negative.
More recently, I went out riding for a few hours on my bike, looking for inspiration. Finding little, I was almost home when I noticed perhaps a hundred burning candles on a street corner: a community memorial to a deceased neighbor. Gathered around the candles were some half dozen people, their silhouettes set off by the candles and tawdry lights of the storefront behind them. I think I could have framed the scene interestingly, but again held back. Instead, I bring this image (taken the same evening) to share. While I’m reasonably pleased with it, I can’t help but to feel that the picture of the memorial would have been much better!