How a Sunny Street Scene in Madrid Convinced Me to Become a Photographer
Returning to the Spanish capital 15 years later and being inspired all over again.
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Two weeks ago, I flew to Madrid. Madrid is known as Europe's sunniest capital, basking in 350 sun-filled days per year, yet I skillfully managed to plan my visit during the other 15. It rained most of each day, every day, for a week. Undeterred, I soaked in every detail of the glorious city — its gorgeous architecture, astounding museums, and exuberant nightlife, all of which refused be stopped by a little dampness. I walked around for 12 hours a day but I didn't photograph much. Cloudy weather may be my biggest nemesis, imbuing everything with even-toned light that lacks drama and saturation. The only images I took were at night, when the city was transformed by the glimmering, almost psychedelic colors of the rainy sidewalks.
During my walks, I kept thinking back to the last time I was in Madrid, 15 years ago, when the city gave me a gift: an image that became a defining eureka moment for me, and that helped me understand photography could be more than just a hobby. Every photographer has one of those pivotal photographs in the early days of fumbling around with the camera. Such lucky accidents trigger giddy joy at the unexpected discovery of one's own vision, however nascent and malformed. In the summer of 2007, I spent a week in the (sunny) city and took hundreds of street photos, all of them fairly amateurish. Except one. Somehow, all the elements came together to produce one of my first coherent street scenes. At the time, I thought it was genius.
Admittedly, in hindsight the photo wasn’t quite the work of genius I once believed. But these moments of deluded inspiration were necessary to jumpstart the transition from photography being a playful activity to a doggedly pursued career. I gravitated towards this scene instinctively, not being able to articulate what it was that interested me. Looking at it now, I finally understand why. Inadvertently, I have stumbled upon a theme that I have come to seek out consciously over the next 15 years — several subjects arranged across the frame, seemingly unaware of the camera and engaged in a leisurely social activity. Such tableaus became a repeating theme throughout my work. Realizing that for the first time gave me a jolt of joy comparable to an archeologist finding a dusty key to the pharaoh’s tomb. My early photos weren't the random accidents I always considered them to be. I have relentlessly chased my obsession with human behavior and the idea of leisure from the get go.
Returning to photograph the same city 15 years later was an interesting experience. On my home turf of New York City, I have photographed the same streets over and over again for years, learning and mastering how to capture the scenes that unfold every day in a continuous and gradual process that has become imperceptible to me. While in Madrid, I remembered attempting to photograph night scenes and hitting a wall, still years away from figuring out how to play with light and color in the dark. But funnily enough, the one thing I still haven't mastered is shooting in the uninspired, rainy daytime. It dawned on me that if it had been raining that week in 2007, I would have never taken that photo — and according to the butterfly effect, maybe my life would have turned out entirely differently.
Self-reflecting, Madrid.
Find me on Instagram @dina_litovsky
I love the last photo. Such a great one, well done