The Decisive Moment

Cartier-Bresson 'The Jumping Man'

There can be few better-known ideas in photography than ‘the decisive moment’.

This famous concept originates from the 1952 book of the same name by Henri Cartier-Bresson. In simple terms, he was describing the exact instant when the elements of a scene best align for visual impact and narrative effect.

In his words: “The simultaneous recognition, in a fraction of a second, of the significance of an event, as well as of a precise organisation of forms which give that event its proper expression.”

It’s an idea we frequently quote and often talk about with our guests, especially in photographic environments that are constantly changing. Cartier-Bresson was, to use a modern term, a street photographer, and his ability to create remarkable images is the stuff of legend.

There are many ways of breaking this down, but put simply, it requires us to do several things:

• Observe the scene. Try to identify what elements might come together to create a possible image. Consider direction and speed of movement, and whether that movement is likely to repeat.

• Anticipate. What might happen next? When and where will the optimal image appear? Where is the story?

• Prepare. Think about your shooting position and camera settings to maximise your chances of capturing the moment, should it present itself.

• Capture it. This is really about not ‘messing it up’! Staying focused and in control of your camera is key.

I already know some people might be thinking, “easier said than done”—and they would be absolutely right. It isn’t easy. But fortune favours persistence, and when everything aligns and falls into place, well… it’s kind of magic.

I was recently on Orkney for a day and, together with some other like-minded photographers, spent a very pleasant few hours wandering the streets of Stromness. About halfway through the day, I noticed two very ordinary white garage doors, and it struck me that each one could make a nice frame if someone interesting walked past. I adjusted my position and camera settings, half-preparing for this anticipated moment… and then I heard running footsteps.

Raising the camera to my eye, I saw a streak of movement and, almost instinctively, pressed the shutter—just once.

Sometimes, in that split second, you just know you’ve flirted with a good image—but often the reality disappoints. On this rare occasion, however, I think I got lucky. It wasn’t perfectly framed, but the timing felt right, and there was a story there that I hadn’t even known was heading my way.

The image reproduced here is the JPEG straight out of the camera. I haven’t done anything to it at all. Of course, I’d be tempted to crop it slightly and perhaps tweak the colours, but I love the idea that you’re seeing it exactly as the camera saw it.

It wasn’t until later that I noticed a slight resemblance to Cartier-Bresson’s famous ‘Jumping Man’ image from 1932. I’m not suggesting this photograph is in any way comparable—but the experience was a powerful reminder of the importance of the decisive moment, and the joy we can find when we manage to capture something truly fleeting.