Considering David Alan Harvey at Sonny's
A friend and her boo were hanging at Sonny's bar. I dropped in to have a beer and unwind.
As I sat at our table, I kept thinking about the Instagram photos I've been seeing from David Alan Harvey. He's a photographer who lives down this way, I think, at least as far as I can tell from the images he posts from his workspace.
Harvey is very popular on Instagram. I started following him because he was a Magnum photographer, and well, isn't that reason enough? He also runs the Burn Magazine website, one of the few organizations that still supports photojournalism for its own virtues.
I'm consistently amazed at and in envy of Harvey's ability to frame stories within stories, the way he can coax parallels from a passing moment in the figures and forms of people and their environments. He has an uncanny ability to get a two-for-one shot, where there's almost a subplot in the narrative in the image. The forms sometimes look so conveniently matched as to make me think he has to be Photoshopping multiple images together.
But sometimes his images look like the just long enough to be lingering stare of an uncle who just said "you're all grown up" to a seventeen year old girl at a family event while he tried to determine if she was or wasn't technically his niece. A number of his images in Rio have this quality to them.
I tried to appropriate both parts of Harvey's style since I was in his neighborhood. These were the crappy images I took. All I managed to get was two people hugging and the sideboob of a culture tourist.