The Ultimative Photo You Lost And Never Stopped To Think About

R

ruben

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I think in case this thread grows, the day we read its retrospective may lead me or us to very interesting new fields.

It is about missing, about loosing, about what we wanted most and couldn't achieve, on the basis of our unending pursue of that mythological image that after we create it, we can rest and fall on our sofas, in a kind of "OK, I did it".

For me, it happened in Prague a decade ago. At the Old city there is a kind of Palace, if I do remember ok, that after you end touring it you get out at a kind of promenade, in which at your left side all of Prague landscape is laying before you.

Ridding on the promenade's low fence, there were a couple of youngers facing each other at a single between them, in an outburst of youthness and love play - with all of Prague behind, like at a Hollywood carefull pose. Both with tight pants, the female with long hair and holding a cigarette with her hand leaning on her leg. It could be a too sweet scene, haven't it been a true one with its small imperfections of true things.

I saw this at some 40 meters away, and since there were almost no people between me and the couple I said to myself I cannot move a single step, nor loose a single moment. On the other hand I didn't had a long lens for the OM I was carrying (I don't remember what I did have) and the ambient light was not abundant anyway.

So I shot from the place I was standing, in the most conspicuous way I could, but by mistake I did not continued to go closer and shoot, go more closer and shoot - as I would do today. By that time street photography was not in my mind as a counscious daily practice, although I did some of it.

So this has been my story, my most missed photo loosing. Now I leave the stage for yours.

Cheers,
Ruben
 
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I couldn't even get started, there must be hundreds of them, almost daily I miss an incredible shot or two. But there is someone I could never convince to model for me in the nude. I will always feel pangs of regret over that failure.
 
Driving home from work, I usually take a small detour from the main lines of traffic, through the heart of a village and some wooded areas surrounded by farmland.
This one day I saw a big bird of prey, a hawk, sitting on a fencepost next to the road. I would be passing it at only a few feet distance. I slowed to a crawl, rolled down my window, reached for my bag in the passenger seat and then remembered I left my Leica at home that day.
I slowly let the car roll by the bird and we stared it each other for a good few seconds before I continued my journey home.

I'm hoping to see that bird sitting on that post again every time I drive by that spot. But no luck so far. :(
 
On a downtown street in the city where I live, I saw an ancient white man berating a car full of young black guys because their music was turned up too loud. The old guy was obviously bonkers and the young guys had looks on their faces like they could not believe what they were hearing. It was perfect, their astonished faces were flawlessly framed by the car windows and the old man had his fist in the air, and his long white hair was blowing around....

I actually had a camera in my hand and, for some reason, was overcome by a wave of inhibition. Horrible.
 
There are many scenes that could have been great photos that I missed. But as long as they stay in my memory, they are not completely lost. So while I might regret not to have a physical remind of it, the frustration of missing the moment is a guarantee that I will remember it for a long time. Which in the end is the most important.
 
My biggest regret was a concert that I wasn't able to shoot. It was a big band, one of my favorites and they where playing a very small venue. I wanted to be sure of this one so about a month ahead of time I phoned the venue to ask if proffesional camera's would be allowed. The lady I talked to had no idea but she gave me the number of the venue coordinator. I called him, no answer, left a message. Two days before the show I got a call back saying that as far as he knew camera's wouldn't be allowed, but to call back on the day of the gig and check again once he'd talked to the bands manager. I called the day of the gig and he said that definitely no professional camera's would be allowed. Crestfallen I went to the show, and when I get there, there where at least half a dozen people in line with big camera bags. No one searched us at the door, no one said anything about their camera's and they definitely didnt have photo passes. And adding insult to injury, in between two songs the lead singer shouts out: "I see a lot of nice camera's out there, well here's you go, come on up!" and proceeds to go out of his way to perform a lot of "rock" poses during the next song after inviting all the guys with camera's to the front row. If the show wasnt so good I would have been in tears :)
 
Arriving late to my son's minor football game (Canadian/American style football), I was surprised to see two fully bearded and turbaned Sikhs standing on the sidelines holding the yardage markers.
I thought what a great comment on the Canadian multi-cultural mosaic, and edged over with my M3, just waiting for the play to end so I could walk on the field and get a shot. But the whistle blew, it was the end of the half, and my subjects dropped the markers and walked off.
 
There was a shot I missed yesterday that I would've liked to have had. The sunlight was perfectly shining on only the people I would've wanted in the shot- a man dressed in a bizarre costume with a wig, handing a little girl (with her face painted like a cat) a little gold star that was shining in the light. Took me a second too long to shoot, so I missed the pose.

That said, I don't obsess over these things. There are shots I miss every day that I would've liked, but I figure that they happen so often that another one will come along, and I'll get it. Especially as I get quicker. I just see it as a sign I need to work quicker and frame better.
 
Two friend of mine (boy and girl, damn english language without genres ;) ), after a theater play, still dressed with scene makeup, talking and looking at each other. We were in the country, on hills, in the background the sunset was perfect, a slice of church and a tree branch just to frame everything. I sneak unnoticed with my Minolta SRT (sorry, no, rangefinder :D) with rokkor 50 1,2 and BW film, after having metered light on my hand...

...and NO MORE FILM!!!! AAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHH!!!!! :bang:
 
One of my favorite urban scenes, which I took long ago, is one for which the original negative has disappeared. :(

3rdavel.jpg


All I have left is a well-aged 11x14 print which I made in the school lab (yes, I have gotten wet on occasion, but not regularly) and a fairly well preserved 3.5x5 print, which this scan came from.

I would **LOVE** to find the negative and scan it and produce a nice larger print using today's technology!
 
ruben said:
...haven't it been a true one with its small imperfections of true things.

That's why I look forward to your posts, Ruben; these little verbal gems.

I like Winogrand's quip about there being no photographs while he's reloading.

~Joe
 
Mine happened many years ago when my wife and I attended a Bruce Springsteen concert here in Toronto at the old Canadain National Exhibition football stadium. I knew beforehand that cameras would not be allowed and gave a great deal of thought to smuggling one in. Finally I decided not to bother, and went cameraless. We were seated on the covered North side of the stands facing South, and the field was covered with seats facing the stage in the East end zone . At about eight thirty, the stadium lights were turned on, and as the lamps slowly grew brighter, they gave off an orange glow which bathed everyone in the South stands as well as on the field below us, and backlit their heads with orange halos. At the same time, a full moon rose over the uncovered South seats into a cloudless sky. I stood there watching the scene unfold, and thought that I'd have given anything for a camera with a thirteen or fourteen millimeter lens and a frame or two of film to catch this incredible scene. Then the lights came up to full brightness, the halos disappeared, the moon rose out of frame and the magic moment was gone. And what surely would have been my double truck spread in Life Magazine went with it.
 
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