Confrontation in a Luddite town

Update: André forwarded me a post from a photographer who has encountered similar situations (one at a gym!). Check it out.

I’ve written before about taking every opportunity to shoot photos, like while waiting on a family member. Lately my daughter has been going to the gym, and since she’s on a learner’s permit, I tag along. While I wait, I shoot photos around the strip mall where the gym is. Some of those were featured in this post.

Today while walking around that parking lot taking the photos included below, I saw a big guy standing some ways off staring at me. Then I heard yelling. The volume increased. “What are you doing?”

I ignored it for a while because there was no reason it would’ve been directed at me. But it continued. I turned around and noticed the big guy had been joined by another, angry-looking guy who was now clearly yelling directly at me. “What are you doing over there?”

I cautiously walked toward the men, since I wasn’t going to carry on a conversation at that distance or at that volume.

“Taking photos.”

“Of what?”

“Anything. Everything. Things that are interesting to me.”

“What’s interesting in a parking lot?” The second man somehow sounded angrier than when he started yelling. He eyed my camera. He looked ready to rip it from my hands to see what was on it. Good luck with that, buddy. A GFX with Mitakon makes a good defensive weapon.

“What isn’t interesting in a parking lot?” I pointed and described a few things I’d just photographed. “That blue wall. The smoke coming out of that pipe. That old machinery.” I didn’t point out any dumpsters since I didn’t want to completely break these well-intentioned men.

This went back and forth for a while. I got a little more heated, even pulled out a classic: “Last time I checked, this was a free country.” I hate that expression, but I needed to speak their language.

The angry one was personally offended that I was walking around—“with my Fujifilm camera” (he noticed! aww)—taking photos inside (without the “of the… inside”) people’s cars. And that’s illegal! (It’s not.) And an invasion of privacy! (If it’s visible in a public place, it’s not private.) Also, I wasn’t even doing that.

It turns out that someone saw me from the gym windows one of the previous times I’d been there. They reported that I’d been taking photos of the inside of peoples’ cars. The closest example of that (I checked my library) was of a flower pot someone hanged from their rearview mirror (it was interesting, though the photo wasn’t a keeper). If I hung a planter with an actual plant in it from my car’s rearview mirror, I’d want people to notice it. The same applies to vanity plates, flame jobs, and every single antique automobile.

So… one person one time saw my lens pointed at the window of a car and now I’m angrily confronted in a parking lot. Don’t ever change, small town Maine.

The angry one wore himself out and went back inside and I was left talking to the more reasonable big guy (I think he works at the gym). He was still stuck on the photos inside peoples’ cars thing, but he did admit that I had the right to take photos of pretty much anything.

“It is a free country, but not for long. It’s going communist.”

Sigh. Don’t tease.

“If you take photos of the inside of peoples’ cars, someone in the gym might capture you doing that on their phone and you could be in real trouble.”

Sensing an opening, I decided to help the next photographer unlucky enough to land in this town and pushed back.

“I hope nobody takes my photo, that would be an invasion of privacy.” (It wouldn’t be.)

I took the last photo below (of the wonky speed limit sign, with a car’s “inside” visible) as the big guy and I walked apart-but-parallel back toward the gym. I assume that got me on a list. My daughter may need to change gyms.

To be real for a moment, though. This confrontation shook me. I go out of my way to choose subjects that no one will have a problem with, after this happened. Even peoples’ faces—perfectly legal to photograph in public places without consent—only appear in my work tangentially. If I want a human element, I shoot from the side or back of the person—or from far away. That goes against everything well-known street photographers advise for making the best work. But this is a hobby and I have a family. I’m not taking chances.

Apparently in our fucked up society, where drivers of giant pickup trucks moan about bicyclists, rich politicians whine about poor migrants, and beefy bros harass photographers in parking lots (but say nothing about the countless security cameras in the same lot, some likely piped into their own place of business), even my relative cowardice is not enough to allow me to practice my craft in peace. Some people simply don’t understand the desire to capture beauty in the mundane—a staple of some of the best photographic work.

So stay safe, but know your rights. Because no matter what you do, people are people.