Morning street scene, Kashan, Iran
Canon EOS 5DSR, Canon EF 11-24mm lens, f5.6 @ 1/250 second, ISO 100

Up front, I’m not suggesting this photograph is the equivalent of a Cartier-Bresson masterpiece, but I do think it encapsulates for me what Henri was thinking when he talked about the ‘decisive moment’.

At photography competitions, I sometimes hear judges describing a wonderful smile on the subject as a ‘decisive moment’, yet (in my opinion) there are other aspects in the photograph that let it down – such as light, composition and background.

For Henri Cartier-Bresson, the decisive moment was more than a smile. In his book titled The Decisive Moment, he wrote:

“Sometimes it happens that you stall, delay, wait for something to happen. Sometimes you have the feeling that here are all the makings of a picture – except for just one thing that seems to be missing. But what one thing? Perhaps someone suddenly walks into your range of view. You follow his progress through the viewfinder. You wait and wait, and then finally you press the button – and you depart with the feeling (though you don't know why) that you've really got something. Later, to substantiate this, you can take a print of this picture, trace on it the geometric figures which come up under analysis, and you'll observe that, if the shutter was released at the decisive moment, you have instinctively fixed a geometric pattern without which the photograph would have been both formless and lifeless.”

So a decisive moment is more than a moment, it’s having all the elements working together.

In Iran, I loved the alleyways found in the old parts of the city, such as Kashan. Long walls, strong doors and high windows look down on a labyrinth of narrow paths. I also noticed the early morning ritual of visiting the baker and the inevitable plastic bag in which to carry the loaves of bread home. For me, this photo captures that story.

I had to wait. I found the location first and I was very happy with the geometry, but it’s surprising how long things take when everything else is ready. I was worried the sunlight would change and the shadow disappear, but eventually the approach of a subject was heralded by the echo of his footsteps off the walls.

We also talk about influences that impact our photography, even if subconsciously. There’s a photograph by Pete Turner that I show in my presentations, taken in the days of film in Greece – a street scene with a road and a woman stepping up onto the curb. Her gesture is perfect. While she is in shadow, further up the street, slanting sunlight hits the buildings and I know some people wonder, wouldn’t it have been better for the sunlight to be illuminating the woman? My thought is no. As an environmental portrait, it's all about telling a story and the light being elsewhere in the frame encourages the viewer to look around, to enjoy the location. The emphasis on the woman is already understood because she is the only human in the scene. I find Pete to be a very sophisticated thinker when it comes to the use of composition and light.

Similarly here (I hope), the hungry breakfaster is not in the shaft of bright sunlight. Nor is the door, but look at the wonderful shadow that outlines the shape of an unseen building around the corner. And the blank, textured, but otherwise featureless walls create ‘a geometric pattern without which the photograph would have been’ … not as good!