Sunday, June 15, 2008

Getting away with it

A couple months ago during my lunch I was walking around downtown L.A., around the back side of the YMCA. I'd passed through that area many times, but it occurred to me that I'd never walked all the way to the south wall. Looking over the edge of the wall and toward the right, down the corridor between the structure on which I stood (atop the Arco garage, ultimately) and the Citigroup building I spotted the shadows of some trees along a hillside.

(Okay, now that I've lost everyone who isn't intimately familiar with that spot, let's move on.)

And because in the midday light shadows are about the only decent shot one can get, I took out my camera and started to set up a shot (holding the camera over the edge toward the trees).

Before I could press the shutter a voice called out to me, "Excuse me, sir." It was a man in security guard garb. He asked me to not take pictures of the buildings. Now, I had encountered this request previously (although only since I got my new S3 camera), so I was not surprised.

However, rather than simply say "okay" and be on my way, I asked him if it was acceptable to shoot the shadows of the trees in question (with no buildings in the shot). And he said yes!

I blurted out how shots of the buildings wouldn't come out anyway. I was being completely honest, and I suspect this through [see comments] him off a bit. I imagine that in the past when he had been in the situation of politely asking someone who appeared to be a "real" photographer (read: someone who takes pictures with a camera fancier than a little point-and-shoot) to not take pictures of the buildings that the responses had been either confrontational (the person made a stink) or quietly acquiescent (the person put the camera away and meekly walked away). I was neither. I analyzed his specific request and noted that what he was asking of me was something I wasn't going to do anyway. It wasn't that there was issue with me taking photos from that spot; the issue was with taking photos where the camera was pointed toward the buildings. So rather than just giving up, I asked if my specific intentions were allowable.

The way he had to pause for a moment clearly indicated this was a new thing for him. I'm not sure whether it was because I was polite and smiling or because I'd found a hole in the rules (or both), but he gave me permission to take the shots I intended. I made a point of trying to seem compliant, thanking him and noting that I'd just take a few shots and be on my merry way. He walked away, still seeming slightly confused about what had just happened, leaving me to my task.

~

Then I tried to actually take the pictures. To get what seemed the best angle I had to hold the camera with my arm fully extended out over the edge of the wall, pointing to my right, with the view screen angled toward my face. Of course, the light that was bad for shooting buildings also made it difficult to see the image on the screen, so I was more or less pointing it in the general direction and pressing the shutter and hoping for the best. I should also note that by extending my arm out over the edge, the only thing between my camera and a five-story fall was my hand and the neck strap wrapped around my arm.

No, nothing like that happened. But still, it was more complicated and dangerous than I had anticipated. However, at that point I more or less had no choice: I had to take these shots; I'd worked too hard (so to speak) to just give up.

So I reached out, pointed, and shot. I brought the camera back to me, switched the screen to view what I'd just taken, then adjusted a setting and did it again, aiming it slightly differently than before (as to not get so much of the side of the structure on which I stood in the shot). That I repeated a few more times, and then I gave up and went on my merry way.

The irony of all this, at least as far as I am concerned, is now not lost on me. Back when I had a little point-and-shoot camera, not only would attempting the shot been slightly easier (because the camera was smaller, easier held with one hand), but it's unlikely I would not have been contacted by the guard (I base that on my experience with taking pictures downtown with my old camera, when this never happened); I wouldn't have had to work for it (again, so to speak), and would have had no qualms about giving up. However, with the larger new camera, not only was the shot trickier, but the angle of the shot essentially reduced me to pointing and shooting.

I thought the point of the new, larger camera was to make it easier to become a better photographer, but sometimes it just makes everything more difficult.

And thus these photos are not offered so much because they turned out that well but because they are the pseudo-trophy of my tiny victory. I really have no choice but to post them whether they deserve it or not.

2 comments:

  1. Doug:

    Being so typo prone when it comes to my own work, I noticed this in your post:

    I suspect this through him off a bit.

    I think it threw him off. If it didn't, then he would've thrown you out. Then he would've been through with you. (Sorry to be so thorough.) The nightmare that we call the English language...

    Here are some links you should find interesting:

    http://boingboing.net/2008/06/02/security-interrupts.html

    mcgillwatch.blogspot.com/2008/05/mcgill-vs-quebec-charter.html

    www.photopermit.org/

    http://www.krages.com/phoright.htm

    The last link features a PDF file that you can print out and carry in your wallet.

    Don't let security guards bully you from taking a photo.

    Ray

    ReplyDelete
  2. Accursed homonyms!

    I believe you are correct, Ray, in that I should have typed "threw" there. Or perhaps I was inadvertently creating a new expression: "through him off" indicating I saw "through" his argument to his surprise.

    Eh, at least I did correctly spell "through"; I got that much right.

    And even when I read it over my mind satisfied itself with the fact that the term it had me type originally sounded like the word I meant and was not misspelled.

    (Stupid brain.)

    Of course, now that we've made such a big deal of this, I can't correct it in the post. Perhaps that's best: it shows that not only can I dish it out, I can take it.

    Thanks for your diligent eye, Ray.

    ReplyDelete

So, what do you think?