Updated November 13, 2011
One of the things we really stress in our workshops is being aware of others around you and having good manners about trying not to walk in front of another photographer or not hogging a particular spot too long.
We encourage people to seek their own vision and bring their own interpretations to a scene.
I was appalled during one of our New England Fall Foliage workshops, not at our group, because they really tried to be respectful, but at others at one of our locations, an oft-photographed farm in Vermont. A number of our participants were equally appalled.
It’s old-fashioned to some, but many people were brought up to respect the property and space of others. We were also taught to ask permission before treading on someone’s land. We call it “being housebroken.” Today, we see more and more of, “If it’s mine, it’s mine; and if it’s yours, it’s mine, too.” Hmmm. I wonder how those people would feel if the tables were turned?
We arrived at our location to find a workshop group already there. We expect that, as this is a popular spot. What we didn’t expect was people lined up, almost shoulder to shoulder and facing the same way. Some were even in the middle of the road, totally unaware that it was a public road that the farmers and residents use often. I can’t and don’t blame them. That’s the fault of their instructor for not letting them know or for not knowing himself.
I have been photographing on this property for close to 30 years, and as you might surmise from the above, I have always asked permission. Long ago, the owners said I didn’t need to ask; I had a permanent “pass” to photograph on their property and to bring our workshops there. Even so, I ask every year. To me, it’s just plain good manners. It is, after all, private property, as opposed to some other parts of the country where there is a lot of public, open land.
Our group gathered their photo gear and went straight toward the beautiful mists that were floating through the valley. At that point, there was no interesting light on the farm below. One man, an imposing dark bundle of parka and camera bags, the husband, we learned later, of one of the students in the other group, charged ahead in front of everyone, planted himself without regard of anyone else in his group or ours and snapped away. I certainly don’t object to his photographing, but he was very inconsiderate of the photographers in both groups.
At one point, the instructor came up behind one of our participants and tersely asked how long she was going to stand there, as though he owned the land and held all rights to it. She was not in anyone’s way and politely told him, “Until I’m done.”
Now, if that instructor had permission to bring his workshop onto the land, that might have been a different story, but he didn’t, never had, and probably never will.
Our group got some great shots that will be on the website as soon as I can process them. I suspect the other group saw that we found other subjects more interesting than the farm and that our cameras were pointed in various directions, depending upon the individual’s eye and interest. They drifted away from their appointed position at the crest of the hill above the farm and came over towards us. Most were polite, but not all. Some wondered what we were doing there. They seemed to think this was their territory and their property. Sound like their instructor? Again, I fault him for not making it clear, and I fault him even more for not asking permission to bring his group onto the property.
There is a “donation” box at the road side. Some of our participants wondered if he even made a donation for his group.
A second workshop group arrived. Their instructor told his group to wait for the light. We could not believe that he didn’t see all the other things there were to photograph and point his students in those directions. Perhaps he did after we left. As we were gathering up our group, he asked, “Aren’t you going to wait for the light?”
“I’ve been photographing here for years, and our group has gotten some great shots already. We’re headed down the hill.”
“What about my group? You’ll be in the way.”
“No, I’m just going down the road and will be out of the way in just a minute.”
I backed the car out of the field and headed down to the farm. Three people were standing in the middle. I asked them politely if they realized that this was a public road and that traffic sometimes went through pretty quickly. I also suggested that they might want to be careful, as traffic wasn’t going to expect them in them in the middle of the road. They thanked me, and I was out of sight in 30 seconds.
On the way down, I saw the bundle of husband and camera bags by the pond right beside the farmhouse. I could not believe it. The presumption of him being so close to the farm. The attitude that he exhibited. I wonder how he would feel if people invaded his property without permission. I suspect he would be “pissed.”
I chatted with the owner, and we caught up on this and that. We talked of my mother. He had done some painting for her many years ago and still remembered her. She used to come to the farm, too, to paint oils and watercolors and always asked permission.
I asked him how many people had asked permission to photograph there. I was the only one. On one hand, I could not believe it; on the other hand, given the attitude of some of the people that day, I’m afraid I did believe it. That doesn’t so much speak well of me as poorly of the others.
We got to talking about the hoards of people who invade the farm each fall. Our host related how one afternoon, some buddies had come over to toss horse shoes and enjoy the afternoon. A couple of cars came by, pulled into his driveway, belched forth a gaggle of foreign photographers who started clicking away. No “Hello,” no asking permission, no “Thank you.” It frustrated him, as people are often rude to him.
After chatting for a bit, I went back uphill. Some of our participants reported polite “discussions” with one or two people who didn’t think we ought to be there. Again, I fault the second instructor, too, for not explaining the lay of the land and for not asking permission. He talked to Arnie, as he wanted to make sure we would not be in the way when we photographed below. Again, curious. I don’t think he pays the taxes on the property, nor did I hear him tell his people to be respectful of our participants.
Back down at the farm house, different-sized jugs of maple syrup were set out on a table with prices. Our host and his family make a lot of syrup each year at the sugar house right down the road, and I always encourage our participants to buy syrup from him, if only to take back to the B&B where they are staying. It is an easy way to thank the owner, and it supports his business. It’s just plain good manners.
We did try to stay out of the line of sight of those above, but there were times, in order to get the shot we wanted, our participants were “in the way” for some of the time. We did, however, try to hide behind trees and bushes.
Our group ended up buying quite a few jugs of syrup. Again, it was such an easy way to show our appreciation for the generous hospitality. And he told me he really appreciated it.
I wish more people took this attitude. Sure, there are still plenty of people around with good manners, but I find it troubling that there are an increasing number of people who take things for granted, especially some leaders who, in our mind, should set a better example.
This is not the only place I have seen this lack of respect for property owners. My mother and I used to live in an “hysterical” district with lovely old houses. We were always amazed at people who would get out of their cars and wander across our lawn to take a picture. I would always ask them, “Excuse me, may I help you?” It was a gentle reminder that they were on private property.
I could go on, but you get the point. I assume many of you have had similar experiences. Perhaps you’ll share them in our comments below.
We always enjoy comments.
We hope you will LIKE this blog (just above the blog title above) and SHARE it (below) with those interested in photography and travel along with the following: