chirgy
thea and alex
Sometimes the making of a good photograph—and especially a good portrait—comes down to one tiny detail.
This could have been a rather ordinary photo. Two people—Alex and Thea, a man and a woman unknown to most of us—sitting on a low stone wall overlooking the Gulf of Thailand. They’re a pleasant looking pair, clearly comfortable with each other. He’s been in the water; she’s been reading a book. It’s really a fairly ordinary moment in an ordinary day, and this could have been an ordinary photograph. Except…
…Simon the photographer took a step or two to the right
…Alex chose to look directly into the lens
…Thea looked over her right shoulder
…and smiled.
And there it is. It wouldn’t have mattered that Simon had taken a step or two to the right, or that Alex had chosen to look directly into the lens, or that Thea looked over her right shoulder if she hadn’t smiled. It’s that smile that lifts this above the ordinary—that slightly amused, tolerant, self-possessed and serene little half-smile. The smile brings us—the viewers—into the photograph. We know she’s not smiling at us or for us, but the smile invites us to briefly join Thea and Alex and Simon. It doesn’t invite us to stay—just to share that one small moment. And it’s enough.
The difference between a good photograph and an ordinary one isn’t just a smile; it’s that smile.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, greg fallis and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
