Garry Winogrand
[Photographer, b. 1928, New York, d. 1984, Tijuana, Mexico.]
The fact is, when I look in the viewfinder, if I do see it as a picture, I’ll do something to change it. Because, in the end, the pictures that you see when you’re working are the pictures that you know already. Either somebody else’s made them, or you’ve done it already. I’m not interested in that.
You know, you’ve heard photographers talk about how they want to know the place better and so on—they’re really talking about their own comfort. Let me put it this way—I have never seen a photograph from which I could tell how long the photographer was there, how well he knew it.
A photographer’s responsible for two things. Once you put your body where you want it to be, what’s in the frame and when you snap the shutter. That’s what the photographer does. The camera does the rest.
I think it’s a stupid term, “street photography.” I don’t think it tells you anything about the photographer or work. On the subject, I have a book out called the animals. Call me the same—I’m a “zoo photographer.” I mean it all really doesn’t make any sense to me, you know?
Photography is always out there; it’s a way to get out of yourself.
I don’t have messages in my pictures... For me the true business of photography is to capture a bit of reality (whatever that is) on film… if, later the reality means something to someone else, so much the better.
How do I say it? The way I would put it is that I get totally out of myself. It’s the closest I come to not existing, I think, which is the best—which is to me attractive.
I don’t have anything to say in any picture... My only interest in photographing is photography.
