Photographer Jonathan Higbee has an incredible knack for finding quirky moments on the street. But it’s not just his sharp eye and patience that bring results. When a scene unfolds before him, he also needs lightning quick reactions to catch it. We caught up with New York-based Higbee to ask him about his work.
P hotographer Jonathan Higbee has a number of projects on the go, but it’s his “Coincidences” collection in particular that’s been winning him many fans around the world.
Each of these delightfully quirky images show real — or one might say “surreal” — moments that prompt the viewer to take a moment to fully process the composition. Entertaining and captivating in equal measure, Higbee’s images reflect an unquestionable talent born from a sharp eye that views the world in a unique way. Waiting several months in the same spot to capture at least one of his shots, he clearly has plenty of patience, too. Digital Trends asked the street photographer about his work and how he goes about capturing these extraordinary images.
Digital Trends: How did you get into street photography?
Jonathan Higbee: My job as a travel photographer required me to move to New York back in 2009. Immediately as I arrived, I felt absolutely compelled to begin making street photography. A passion for celebrating daily life’s routine, mundane, obvious aspects while trying to be more present has kept me shooting the streets ever since.
What equipment do you use?
I’m a bit of a gearhead! I enjoy tech and gadgets and wear the proud “first adopter” badge proudly, so my kit varies wildly. My go-to camera is the incomparable Leica Q, though I’ve started tossing a Leica M10 and 35 Summicron ASPH in my bag to play with a different focal length. When it comes to street photography, Leica is the standard-bearer for good reason. The rangefinder system combined with lenses that make zone-focusing a breeze, in my experience, is unparalleled when it comes to nailing focus in challenging conditions. And I’m one of those people who swears that there’s some magic sauce in the images produced by a Leica. So, though there may be great cameras that are a bit smaller, I always keep the pocketable digital Leica CL and the new 18mm TL in a pocket or a bag, so I’m never caught without a camera that produces great image quality.
I love shooting analog as well, in a variety of genres. My favorites for 35mm are my Contax T3, Yashica T5, and, of course, Leica M6. As far as medium-format goes, my Hasselblad Xpan + 30mm is considered my second-born child (after my dog!). The panoramic format of the Xpan inspires so much creativity, and produces a jaw-dropping cinematic look that is difficult, if not impossible, to replicate on digital cameras.
What do you love about doing street photography? Are there any downsides?
Street photography is a way of life, a philosophy. It’s about so much more than shooting the streets, and I’m passionate about every aspect of it. I particularly enjoy the extra artistic freedom and room for conceptualism that artists find more in street than in any other candid genre. I love that making street photography feels like a constant collaboration with the living, breathing city. Its emphasis on exploring the humanity of strangers is also a strength.
On the flip side of all of this is the perennial threat of confrontation. Whether it’s with the authorities or a bystander who passes in front of the lens, negative (often violent) encounters are not unusual. As a reserved, sometimes shy person to begin with, this looming risk is difficult to dislodge from my mind.
How often do you manage to get onto the streets, and how long would you be outside for on a typical day?
If I don’t get out to shoot at least four days of the week then I grow irritable and depressed, ha ha! I prefer the bold and bright light of mid-afternoon, so I’ll typically shoot for two to four hours while the sun is at its highest.
Your Coincidences collection is particularly striking. In the images where you include a mural or ad, what’s the longest and shortest amount of time you’ve had to wait to get the shot?
On average, each image in this series took roughly a week to make. Wall Street, however, took nearly four months, the longest I’ve waited yet. I returned and waited at least three afternoons a week in that time period. Each week I’d make a photograph that would have satisfied me for portfolio use. But I knew that I could do even better and find a moment that told the story I was interested in telling. So, much to the dismay of a hot dog cart salesman who I had to regularly stand near for the perfect angle, I kept coming back, month after month, until this scene unfolded. The second I captured it, I knew I had the shot. That’s a rare but exhilarating feeling.
The other end of the spectrum is this photograph in front of a Sephora. I was walking at a snail’s pace through Times Square (sometimes the crowds there prevent anything faster). Immediately, I noticed this story unfolding before my eyes as I approached the beauty chain storefront. When this kind of thing happens — when I strike gold “without trying” — I switch into a kind of trance where I have no sense of self. Everything just happens naturally by intuition. I photographed this story from every angle possible before the customer moved away, and knew that I had successfully captured a story I had long hoped to tell.
With some of your images, it seems like you have to be super-quick on the shutter. How often do you miss a great shot, and does it bug you for long?
Making successful street photography rests entirely on timing. It’s vital. My Coincidences work is entirely reliant upon timing. There have been countless instances where I’ve screwed up the timing, and being too slow to change a necessary setting or angle and completely missing a scene. Sometimes timing literally gets fumbled when I’m just a half-second too late in lining up all the elements for a juxtaposition. This happens, sadly, once every couple weeks, I’d say.
It’s never been easy for me to overcome my knee-jerk emotional reaction to missing a shot. It’s actually something I’ve been working on lately. There have been scenes I’ve missed that stick with me for several days. A recent one involved a beautiful geometric pattern on a tourist bus that really worked well with passing cyclists. There’s an irrational sense of loss, of grief, and of shame that I struggle with. It’s not healthy, and I’ve made some progress with turning it all into water under the bridge.
Could you pick out one of your favorite shots from your collection and say why you chose it?
My favorites change with the season, it seems. Right now I’m particularly fond of, which I made recently in Los Angeles. This location was overwhelming — crowded with tourists like me — but I felt like a kid in a candy store. So there’s a bit of an emotional connection to being able to get this shot that is still reverberating in my skull, but my affection for it is really mostly about the color story, the story story, the composition, and the mood. I think it’s a great balance and representation of my body of work as a whole.
Do you ever lose motivation for doing street photography? If so, how do you pick yourself up again?
I don’t really experience a loss of motivation, thankfully. Photography flows through my veins at this point, there’s no way to stop it.
