What Do Your Photographs Say About You?

In less than a century since it was introduced to the world, photography, for the first time, became commonplace and accessible with the first Kodak camera in 1888 that came with a 100-exposure roll of film. At this time, Eugène Atget was already working as a commercial photographer, and by 1898, his focus shifted solely to documenting the last bits of a city (Paris) that was quickly disappearing under the weight of modernisation. He made pictures using an 8 x 10-inch view camera that was mounted onto a wooden tripod, and is said to have weighed at least 13kgs. It was his camera of choice till the end of his life. Could this explain his hunched exterior in the rare and only photograph that Berenice Abbott made of him in her studio towards the end of his life? Every day, he lugged this heavy apparatus around the city, which was no easy feat. For his prints, he used albumen silver photographic paper, even though the technique had become archaic at the time. No one knows why he resisted change. Maybe he was pressed for money or it could just be that Atget enjoyed the slowness that his camera afforded him. I mention him here to introduce you to Evelyn Hofer, who, like Atget, was drawn to the passive and unhurried nature of photography.

At the time when Hofer began shooting, it was the 1940s, and by then, the camera of choice for most ardent street photographers was the Leica 35mm. If you thought Atget was unrelenting to newer camera technologies, Hofer chose to shoot with a 4 x 5-inch large format camera. It’s difficult to decipher why she chose to shoot on a large format camera. Perhaps she liked to take her time with her pictures, to examine her surroundings and the people who inhabited them. The enigmatic stillness surrounding her portraits bear some semblance to the Parisian master himself, even though he largely made photographs of still life and architecture. I suppose if you are deliberate and slow in your practice, stillness does transcend time. “All photographs are pauses, but there was never anything rushed about Evelyn Hofer’s images,” David Campany wrote in his book On Photographs.

Hofer’s work, especially her still life, was influenced by Dutch and Italian Renaissance painters. She brought the same likeness to her street portraits as well, evident in her deep sensibility towards light. “She had some periods in her life where she was just painting, but then she gave it up again. She always said her main influence was painting and not photography. You can see that clearly in the way she treats the light,” Andreas Pauly, the executor of the Evelyn Hofer Estate, said.

Hofer’s subjects never strayed from their immediate environment. Even when they posed for her camera, it was always on their terms. It didn’t matter what they wore, who or where they were, or what expression their faces held, in Hofer’s eyes everyone was equal. Her camera dignified the people she photographed; she always strove to document what she described as an “inside value, some interior respect.” It is no wonder that many have found her pictures to be reminiscent of August Sander’s portraits. Like Hofer, he photographed ordinary people. “Let me speak the truth in all honesty about our age,” he had said, which is in tandem with Hofer’s own vision. “She was very good with people. Sometimes it is very hard; you only have ten minutes for the photograph— but in that short time, she really connected with the people and she made them show her something or open themselves,” Pauly said.

It should also be noted that Hofer photographed both in B&W and colour, and in fact, adopted colour as early as the 1950s (much like Saul Leiter). “Throughout her long career, Hofer put her work before her own fame. The critic Hilton Kramer once called her ‘the most famous unknown photographer in America.’ But her images have lasted, and since her death in 2009, she has come to be appreciated as something of a quiet pioneer, not just of colour photography but also of a kind of understated gravity. She made images against which progress can be contemplated and measured,” David Campany wrote.

So, how do you slow down in a world that is increasingly built around speed and efficiency? Most of us may not have the means to shoot with a large format camera. Maybe it’s not what we use but how we use it that can make all the difference. It’s not just about slowing down but being cognizant and respectful towards the environment and people we photograph. Hofer always photographed people at eye level. This speaks volumes about the sensitivity with which she approached her subjects. This reminds me of Danish Siddiqui, a photographer who also similarly dignified the people in his pictures. “In reality, all we photographers photograph is ourselves in the other—all the time,” Hofer had said. What do your photographs say about you?

This article originally appeared in the August 2021 issue of Bette Photography.