Can personal assignments yield great street photography? Does a long-term project have more lasting impact than images made for fleeting social media praise? Bruce Davidson’s career suggests yes. His deep focus on multi-year projects led to timeless collections, inspiring street photographers for generations.
Born in Chicago in 1933, Davidson began taking photos at 10 and went on to work for Life, The New York Times, and Magnum. His subjects ranged from the Civil Rights Movement to circus performers, Brooklyn gangs, and Spanish Harlem—each tackled with deep intention.
One iconic example is Subway, shot over five years in 1980s New York. The images, filled with graffiti, tension, and raw human moments, captured a chaotic yet vibrant era. Davidson wanted to transform the subway’s dark, impersonal feel into images full of color and vitality. He switched from black and white to color film to do justice to the gritty environment and carried a large flash—drawing attention but necessary for the shots.
Working in the subway was risky. Davidson often feared being attacked or robbed. Yet, his commitment to being physically close to his subjects, never using a telephoto lens, added intimacy and authenticity to his work. Whether asking permission or shooting candidly, his presence—and his flash—was always felt.
Earlier, his Brooklyn Gang series (1959) documented the daily lives of a group called The Jokers. Gaining trust by giving them prints, he became almost invisible, capturing their depression and anger with empathy.
In the 1960s, a Guggenheim Fellowship allowed Davidson to document the Civil Rights Movement. He traveled with Freedom Riders, witnessed violent clashes, and photographed the Selma March, choosing to observe rather than interfere—even with figures like Martin Luther King Jr.
Later, his East 100th Street project (1966–1968) involved photographing a single block in Harlem. Using a large format camera, he gained access by submitting work for community review, countering the exploitation common among outside photojournalists. His respectful process yielded honest, intimate portraits, helping shed light on housing struggles.
Davidson’s work shows how long-term, intentional projects can create photography that resonates. He saw himself not as an activist, but as someone compelled to see people—to be there when no one else was paying attention.