Caught a moment of calm, just off the hustle and bustle of Belfast’s busy Royal  Avenue, a homeless street person, lost in the pages of a book, challenges our perceptions, reminding us that not everyone  in those circumstances is there because of illiteracy or wasted opportunities, or substance addiction. For the photographer, such stories can be found everywhere, even in the most unexpected places.  

The Fujifilm X-T50 captured this seemingly contradictory slice of life.

In a documentary forum, a participant asked me two questions, firstly, how do you know this person is homeless, and secondly, why did you make this image.

They are valid questions, and because they forced me to think further about the image, I have placed my reply to his questions below:

“Thank you for your questions and for your interest, and I’m sorry that it has taken me a while to reply, Sundays are busy days for me. You are asking the correct questions. 

Permit me please, to answer your second question first, “Why did I make this image?” 

I suppose the most simple answer would be ‘why not?’ The scene presented itself. I turned a corner and it was there. I’m not a habitual ‘street photographer.’ I wasn’t looking for people to photograph, (there are plenty who do, it is a recognised genre, and most certainly not illegal). But I was looking for unusual architectural features, buildings, landmarks, churches, places of historical interest, etc, when I turned a corner, and this unique image presented itself, and I lifted the camera, and made the exposure. As simple and spontaneous as that.

My response to your first question is more complex. How does a viewer know any image is ‘true?’ I’m sure an AI website like Adobe Firefly could come up with a similar image on demand. But isn’t that the issue with documentary photography nowadays? How does a viewer trust anything that is presented to them on a screen. It’s well recognised now, for example, that during Covid, news agencies used (poorly) manipulated images of corpses in a mortuary to drive home the government’s messaging on lockdown. 

Did I question the man, check his homelessness credentials, ask him when he’d last had a roof over his head, or a meal in his stomach? No, I did not. I observed. I observed his appearance, unkempt and bedraggled. I observed his demeanour, sullen and unfriendly. I observed his surroundings. Who sits in a windy, dirty, graffitied, perhaps dangerous back alley, in an area frequented by addicts and wine victims to read a book? It’s not a beach, or a garden, or a public park, or a scenic location. It’s somewhere quiet to sit down on the cold pavement, on the ground, away from the main streets, and read.  Why would anyone do that, if they were not homeless, and just wanted away from others, perhaps from society in general?

The real question in my mind is, “If he really is homeless, down and out, where did he get the book?” It’s a generalisation, but it’s unlikely that a homeless person would BUY a book, and that’s what disturbs the mind in this image. Was it discarded, or did he go to a charity shop? Did someone give it to him, perhaps in a hostel? It’s the book that makes the image relevant, and that carries a message. This man, in a back entry is reading. He is literate. He is not uneducated. There is hope for him.

I have an acquaintance, a man I know, who some years ago suffered a marital breakdown and was forced to leave his home, and his children. After staying some time with friends, he found himself with nowhere to live and wandered the streets of the city. He lost his job, and fell into financial ruin and destitution. Picked up by a homelessness charity, and with their help he began to put his life together again, got a room in a hostel, and eventually got another job.  Now he could be given accommodation from the local council, and with the help of charity shops, put some furniture in it. He worked hard, and rebuilt what he’d lost. Today he owns his own home, has remarried and is in a loving happy relationship and reunited with his children, who are allowed by the court to spend weekends with him. 

Whatever assumptions the original image is based upon, that’s its message, and it is true. No one is beyond hope. A man sitting in a deserted back entry drinking wine from a bottle is what we see in our perception of homelessness. A man sitting in a back entry reading, jars against our perceptions, and reminds us that despite the circumstances of life, the misfortunes and pitfalls, no life is beyond redemption.  

Thank you for your questions. They made me think.”