Fond (and not so fond) memories of being photographed as a kid

Me with my first camera, 1987, with my mom on the right
and her sister on the left (the one that recently sent me this photo).

I remember as a kid I always disliked having my picture taken.  It wasn’t that I tried to avoid being in front of the lens, but it always seemed to feel uncomfortable and unnatural.  I suppose a lot of it has to do with the common misconception in my family that the best photos had to be taken outside in direct sunlight during the hottest time of the day.  Oh, and we always, ALWAYS, had to be facing directly into the sun.  And if your family is anything like mine, especially during family gatherings, one person pulling out a camera turned into an epidemic.  Every time.  

As an added bonus these were the days of film and one photo simply wouldn’t do.  No, different exposures and different orientations had to be performed.  By each person with a camera.  Every time.  And every photo came out looking the same – blown out highlights, cheesy smiles, and squinty eyes.  I never felt those images captured a moment, but tried to insist on the fabrication of something that wasn’t quite real and it had a lasting effect on me.  

When I was older, my family could never seem to comprehend my aversion to taking staged or posed family photographs, especially when we vacationed together.  If I were to include people in my photographs at all (remember I’m an architect by training, so I generally found buildings more engaging) I would go for the candid shots as these felt real to me.  This of course annoyed my mother greatly as I think she believes the only good photograph is one with the person looking directly at the camera prepared with a big smile (no offense Mom!).  Eventually I focused solely on interesting buildings and unusual details.  

But recently I’ve been very interested in ‘people photography’ whether it be portraits, fashion, or images of my own wife and daughter.  I think there are some amazing photographers out there that are able to capture the intangible, even within a studio setting.  This new preoccupation of mine stems from my desire and intent to document my daughter's upcoming life.  I’m attempting to capture who she is on her own schedule.  I’ve learned that I can’t force something out of her, but under the right conditions and attitudes I can lay the groundwork for those special moments to occur.  Well sometimes; she’s only 18 months after all.  

I think there might be an important lesson there.  Sometimes it has nothing to do with photographic skills and everything to do with a person’s ability to connect with others and their willingness to let things happen as they may.  And of course 'anticipation'.  I’m certainly not the first to point this out; follow any good photographer and you’ll probably hear the same thing, but said in a more profound way I’m sure.

To this day I wonder the status of all those photos taken from my childhood.  Every now and then I’ll get an old photo of myself in the mail from my aunt and uncle (yes, my uncle was one of those always whipping out his camera).  Initially I’m taken back to that point in time but then my thoughts drift and I wonder why I’m always staring straight into the sun with an expression on my face that borders pain.  But I suppose that’s the purpose of snapshots, for most people, anyway.  They’re brief reminders of the past, of the places we’ve been, and the people that surrounded us.  They capture our family members in various stages of their lives and they carry a certain intrinsic value for the people tied to that photograph.  So in that sense, I’m no longer entirely afraid of snapshots and I happily snap away during vacations and family visits.  Sometimes it's enough to just be 'dad'.  I just make an effort to avoid the harsh sun…

Callah with her Great Grandfather, 2012