Because I was bringing home from my travels so many strong and interesting photos of faces, I once fancied myself a “people photographer”. Unfortunately that it is a particularly low-paying type of photography.
Once again I had chosen something that had more aesthetic than commercial value.
But it didn’t stop me and I continued doing it anyway, even though it hasn’t made me rich and famous.
So maybe I’ll do a coffee table book.
In this post I won’t be as chatty as I was on the previous; I’ll just let the photos do most of the yakking.
A pink turban is most often worn in the spring time or for a wedding. This fellow looks like he could be celebrating both. (I think there is nowhere I’d rather go to photograph people than to India. )
I’m not sure but I think this young man was an economics professor on sabbatical from New Delhi U.
I’m a big fan of Wladyslaw Benda’s work from the early 20th century. He was big on Slavic girls like the one he drew below. See any resemblance?
All three appear to be the type that I wouldn’t want to cross.
These guys were watching a couple of girls that had just walked by. Then they discovered me watching them.
I almost missed my bus back to Manilla for this one.
The Ami were among the original inhabitants of Taiwan before the Chinese arrived. Facial tattooing used to be common but I suspect there are very few left who do it. This woman’s granddaughter was with her and she had opted to use face paint instead, I wouldn’t be surprised that in these days tattooing was back in vogue.
After a four hour hike up and down some very muddy trails over the steep, forested slopes of a cloud shrouded mountain (with no map), I finally found the isolated little farm that was known for its plum wine. The old farmer and I couldn’t understand each other but he knew why I was there. He’s about to pour me a bottle of wine out of that bucket.
This woman would not leave me alone and her antics were beginning to attract a crowd. At my wits end to make her happy and go away, I finally made an elaborate production of taking her picture and, evidently satisfied, she did just that. This is one time my inability to speak Russian was probably a blessing.
Chicos (like this one) once were the master horsemen of the Hungarian plains and there are still a few that keep that tradition alive. They are expert riders and often perform in rodeo-like events.
An English Orthodox priest I met at Glastonbury Abbey.
Many, if not most, of my fondest travel memories involve the people I’ve met and photographed. I almost always try to get their names and addresses, and sometimes even a model release, but those little bits of paper tend to get lost over the years. When I look at photos like these, the ones that look right back at me, I find that those notes were really not that important anyway.
Now I invite you to take a look at these fascinating portraits of the wives of Henry VIII.