Street Photography Stories: On the Move

Street photography that tells a story

The story of On the Move takes me back to 2007, early in my fine art photography career.

At that stage, I had only recently started exhibiting my work, and I was still navigating my way around the art world. At the time, I was working on my Abandoned collection, a limited edition series, while simultaneously developing smaller collections such as Road to Freedom and Children of Geluk.

These were very exciting, but somewhat uncertain years in my artistic career. I didn't yet have my own gallery space and was trying to find galleries that might represent my work. It was a time of hope and persistence, of sending out portfolios and waiting for someone to believe in what I was doing.

The Everard Read Gallery, Cape Town

I was approached by one of the most respected galleries in Southern Africa, the Everard Read Gallery in Cape Town. For me, this was a defining moment. (Founded in 1913, Everard Read is one of the oldest commercial galleries in the Southern Hemisphere, a true cornerstone of the art world.)

They offered to host an exhibition that included both my Abandoned and Road to Freedom collections, along with several other works. I was living in Pretoria at the time, so my family and I travelled down to Cape Town for the show, staying for about a week to help with pre-exhibition tasks leading up to the opening night.

I was nervous, of course, but it wasn't the kind of nervousness rooted in fear. It was excitement, that exhilarating sense of anticipation that I've since come to know as a vital part of my creative process. I've noticed that every time an exhibition approaches and that excitement sets in, new ideas begin to spark.

The moments that became On the Move

One morning, while having coffee and looking out the hotel window, I noticed a street person passing below, collecting cigarette stubs. He appeared almost every morning at the same time. One day, he was walking towards a "No Stopping" street sign; it felt as if both he and a couple pushing a pram up ahead had noted the sign and were obeying it, and I instinctively captured the moment. It felt symbolic, a metaphor for human movement and the direction of city laws. That image became the first in what would later be known as On the Move.

The next morning, the same man passed again, this time walking in the opposite direction behind two tourists heading toward town. I'd seen them at breakfast earlier, a couple who had clearly argued, now walking in silence, apart from one another, with the street man following behind, still searching the pavement for cigarette stubs. The frame captured three lives moving in the same direction, this time disobeying a "No Entry" sign.

That afternoon, in Camps Bay, we were enjoying lunch on the promenade when a guitarist appeared, playing for tips. Behind him was a pedestrian crossing, and as people passed through the scene, one man in a cowboy style hat stepped into the frame, creating a perfect visual trigger. Another image was born.

The next morning, from the window of our hotel room, I noticed an outdoor shower area near the pool. It looked interesting but felt incomplete. I waited, hoping someone might step in, but no one did. Then, a seagull flew through the frame, and I captured it mid-flight. It completed the composition beautifully, becoming the fourth image of the series.

That afternoon, we took a drive to Hout Bay, one of our favourite places in Cape Town, and today, our home. At Mariner's Wharf, while we were eating fish and chips, my youngest daughter, Leeanne, then about five years old, began chasing seagulls along the dock. Her joy and movement embodied the very essence of the series, so of course, I photographed her too.

Near the end of our trip, we took a drive to Gordon's Bay. Down at the harbour, along the yacht jetty, a group of young boys came walking toward us. They had been fishing with hand lines, and they were full of energy, laughing and carefree. I captured them as they passed; even the fine fishing line is visible in the image. It became the sixth and final photograph in the series, closing it on a note of youthful spontaneity.