Posts Tagged ‘老城厢

22
Jul
10

Behind the Camera: 唐颖 Tang Ying on Street Photography

唐颖 (Tang Ying) is a Shanghai native and has studied in Japan and the US. Ying honed her street photography while working in San Francisco as a freelance cameraperson and video editor. She later studied photography at the New York Institute of Photography and the School of Photography of C.C.S.F. Her work has been featured in the San Francisco Chronicle, San Francisco Magazine and she has worked for The New York Times, IHT and Shanghai TV Magazine. Her street photography is filled with stories that sparkle with action and wit, a reflection of a unique perspective and style.

Website: http://www.yingphotography.com/

SA: Tell us more about yourself and your work. How and when did you pick up the camera?

唐颖: 我是在四年前开始街道摄影的,那时我住在旧金山,没有很多的钱投资在摄影器材上,也没有能力到处去旅游,所以我的摄影对象是旧金山的街道,那里的人。我纪录我有兴趣的人和事。不同与其他的摄影,街道摄影不需要有很昂贵的器材,我现在还用同样的器材。用最基本的镜头。我认为照片一定要有故事性才会吸引人,所以我到现在没有更换我的装备还是用同样的镜头和照相机。 我认为街道摄影之所以让我如此着迷也是因为其故事性,人文性,还有无法揣摩的突发性。所以几乎所有的街道摄影者都必须花很多时间和耐心去挖掘所谓的”decisive moment”。

I started street photography four years ago when I was living in San Francisco. I did not have much money to invest in photography equipment, or do much travelling, so my subjects were San Francisco’s streets and its people. I documented people and things that interested me.

Unlike other forms of photography, you don’t need expensive equipment for street photography – I still use the same equipment and basic lenses. I believe that photos must have a narrative element to draw people so I have yet to change my set up. What fascinate me about street photography are the narrative and humanistic elements, and its sudden and unexpected nature. This is why street photographs have to spend a lot of time and have patience to capture that “decisive moment”.

Continue reading ‘Behind the Camera: 唐颖 Tang Ying on Street Photography’

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09
Mar
10

The Baker

I bought a shaobing from this young man, piping hot from the cylinder drum which he baked them in. You could see the wafts of aromatic smoke trailing through the alley. As I nibbled on my oily flat bread, I slouched in a corner to watch him.

His movements were deft and practised. Knead, roll, dust with flour and a dash of water. Knead, roll, dust and dash. It was an internal rhythm punctuated only by the occasional peckish customer.

At one point, he bent into his dough and gave a couple of gentle blows. Perhaps to tickle the yeast that would later work its magic when the bread baked in the cylinder drum.

A quick jerk of his shoulder swept away perspiration beading at his forehead and he moved to pull knobs of dough to flatten into circular discs and attach them inside the heating cylinder drum. Within minutes, he was done assembling the tea-time batch.

Business was swift. It would be a matter of another hour or so before he’d have another go at it.

August 2009




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