The Bearded Skot

The Rome Reset

I started street photography in 2020 yes, the “Pandemic Year.” After the first lockdown lifted, Italy opened its borders to travellers with a negative test on arrival. On a whim, I asked my boss for time off and jumped on a flight to Rome.

Life in Italy felt calmer then. I brought along a camera that hadn’t been touched in years; after a stint in product photography, my love for the craft had completely evaporated. I didn’t have a plan. I just stepped out into the Roman sun and started shooting.

Getting Close (and Staying There)

The images you see here aren’t from those first days in Rome. They will come in another post. These come from several years later, reflecting a version of me that is more confident and willing to take risks.

Robert Capa once famously said, “If your pictures aren’t good enough, you’re not close enough.” I tried a thousand times to get closer to my subjects internally fear held me back. I remember the first time I truly pushed past that barrier; I was urged forward by a fellow photographer during a Lunar New Year celebration. I later found out it was Ian Taylor (@ICTImages)—we’ve actually appeared in a zine together since then.

Now, I feel no fear being close. Whether I’m at a protest or just on a quiet corner, the camera feels like a natural extension of my arm.

The Ethics of the Lens

While I’ve learned to get close, I’m conscious of how I use that proximity. I never look for people down on their luck just to freeze a moment. My goal isn’t to exploit, but to observe.

My style has evolved significantly. I find myself constantly hunting for: The Play of Light: Finding dramatic backlighting in transit hubs (like a train station’s long shadows). Reflections: Using glass and metal to layer a story.

Street photography will never not be something I love. It’s the thrill of the “split second”—the realisation that if I hadn’t been standing on that specific tile at that specific moment, the image would never exist.