Some weeks ago there was a discussion on this blog about why I don’t photograph people as part of my studies of Manhattan. Since that discussion, I have, of course, become obsessed with photographing people. In case you were looking for an example of how we influence each other on this blog, you now have a very good example.
With all respect for the various and wonderful women of the world, as a man there is an undeniable connection between my brain, my eye and my penis so, not surprisingly as a gay man I have pretty much focused my camera on me…and the streets of Manhattan are chock a block full of beautiful and sexy men. And at the risk of stereotyping and generalizing, as walkers, men and women are very different. Men are going somewhere and they are focused on that–even if it’s nowhere–almost oblivious to there surroundings. Women are observers. They’re moving more slowly and looking at store windows, how other women are dressed, what possible threats there may be to their safety–and if they’re being led by a man, they are never looking forward. It’s actually pretty funny to observe.
I’ve also learned that male Manhattanites are so focused on their “missions” that you can stick a camera up a man’s ass and he’s likely not to notice unless it has a vibration mode–and even then he might mistake it for a passing subway train. As a result I’m loving the ability to capture unposed body language and, more specifically, Manhattan male motion.
Men are going somewhere and they are focused on that–even if it’s nowhere–almost oblivious to there surroundings. Women are observers.
Richard, you’ve got me here, but I didn’t realize it was a gender thing.
You’re Manhattan photos always make me miss my birth-city, though I never looked at it this way before.
I did an afternoon of random photos here in Haarlem some weeks ago. I was shooting from the chest as I walked the streets. Here is an example of the results. I see I have captured by accident something of what you describe: focused male motion, with less focused female strolling. Not definitive proof of your hypothesis, but interesting.
Richard,
Nice to see you here again. I was missing your posts lately!
Assertive stride!
I always knew that my fast stride, acquired through keeping up with big dogs along Frisian dykes, saved me from being harmed when, as a young woman, I conquered a slice of Manhattan – from 125th to China town – by foot.
Reading your post, I am thinking that in the winter, I may have been mistaken for a boy, wearing sneakers, pants and a pea coat; during warmer weather, I may have given the impression of a transsexual.
Richard,
I hadn’t noticed the gender differences in walking style, but when I think about it, it seems valid. My husband can’t stand to stroll about the neighborhood — he needs a goal, even when we both know it’s an artificial one. And he walks with little awareness of what’s around him — he doesn’t see the neighborhood, he abstracts ideas from it.
I wouldn’t make too big a thing of it, and he is actually starting to see things like flowers (real species, not abstract notions like “micro-climates”). But in some part of his gendered being, setting forth is going somewhere and thinking about ideas so you aren’t wasting your time walking is part of going there.
Your photos of the male animal are wonderful. As a straight female, I can say I appreciate them in a definitively gendered way.
But have you noticed how men sit on buses — with their legs spread apart, taking up a seat and a half. Even the nice ones seem to think they own more than their allotment of the available space.
“Even the nice ones seem to think they own more than their allotment of the available space.”
This seems to be particularly true with the American White Christian Male.
Richard,
I love how the second photo captures your thoughts perfectly. What a moment!
Richard,
The second photo is a classic.
I roam the streets of Manhattan trying to get close up head shots as source subjects for my paintings. Most of the people that I photograph this way are the homeless, ex-prostitutes, panhandlers and sometimes out-of-work people. I like to hear their stories before asking them if I may take a picture. When I first saw your pictures late yesterday afternoon, I could not help reflect on the air on nonchalance in your pictures as opposed to the strain that I see on faces when I ask someone to pose for me… Nice shots…