France Leclerc on Photographing as an Outsider: Patience, Trust, and Choosing the Right Images
France Leclerc’s path to photography began after a long career in academia, but her interest in human behaviour has remained a constant. Drawn to the small gestures, fleeting encounters, and unexpected moments that reveal something about how people live, she brings a thoughtful curiosity to photographing the world around her. Leclerc was among the contributors to Fotoqrafika Issue 08. In this conversation, she reflects on photographing as an outsider, learning to look beyond first impressions, and the ongoing challenge of separating the photographs we feel attached to from those that truly deserve to be seen.
I enjoy that openness, and the possibility that someone else will find something in an image that I hadn't seen myself.
1. You came to photography after a long career in academia. What did the camera give you that your previous profession didn’t?
There is a connection between the two. I spent many years studying and teaching human behavior, and photography allows me to keep exploring it through direct encounters. The camera gave me a reason to step into situations I might otherwise have observed from a distance, which, as a bit of an introvert, I found particularly meaningful.
It also gave me a different way to express what interests me. In academic work, I needed to explain and analyze. A photograph can leave room for ambiguity: a gesture, a feeling, or a relationship that I notice but cannot fully explain. I enjoy that openness, and the possibility that someone else will find something in an image that I hadn't seen myself.
2. When you enter a completely new country or culture, what is the first thing you usually struggle with as an outsider holding a camera?
The first challenge is understanding enough of the situation to know how to approach it. Something may attract me visually without my understanding what is happening or whether my presence is welcome. I need time to observe, learn the rhythms of a place, and get a sense of how people respond to the camera.
I'm also aware that being an outsider shapes my attention. What seems unusual to me may be entirely ordinary to the people who live there. I try to stay curious without letting the unfamiliarity of a scene become the only reason to photograph it.
© France Leclerc © France Leclerc © France Leclerc © France Leclerc © France Leclerc © France Leclerc
3. People in your photographs often appear very comfortable with your presence. How do those early interactions usually unfold?
Often they begin very simply, with a smile, a greeting, or an acknowledgment of what someone is doing. I try to show interest in the person and the situation, and to pay attention to their response.
In a documentary setting, people may initially pose or feel very conscious of the camera. I sometimes take those first photographs, then stay and give people time to return to what they were doing. Patience matters. As my presence becomes less of an event, there is more room for an unguarded moment, which is what I am looking for.
Street photography can be different, because an encounter may last only a few seconds. There isn't always time to establish familiarity, so I have to be attentive to people's reactions and accept that some photographs should remain untaken or unshared.
4. When you return from a trip with a large body of work, how do you decide what truly holds value and what doesn’t?
This remains one of the hardest parts of photography for me. I return with memories attached to the images: the people I met, the atmosphere, the difficulty of getting somewhere. Those experiences matter to me, but they don't necessarily make a photograph compelling to someone else. I need distance, both physical and emotional, before I can judge what is actually in the frame.
I look for a moment that holds my attention, supported by a composition in which the elements work together meaningfully. A complicated image isn't necessarily a strong one; the complexity has to contribute something.
Then I consider how the photographs work together. Some stand on their own, while others gain value within a sequence. I'm still learning to distinguish between an image I'm attached to and one that deserves its place in a body of work. I suspect I'll be working on that skill forever!
5. In an era of increasingly stylized and edited photography, what keeps you committed to a more direct way of seeing?
What keeps me committed is the possibility of discovering something I couldn't have planned. People, gestures, light, and movement can come together in ways that surprise me, and that unpredictability is a large part of why I photograph.
Of course, my photographs are shaped by my choices: where I stand, what I include, and when I press the shutter. But I want those choices to grow from what is happening in front of me. I enjoy looking for visual structure within an unscripted situation, and the challenge of making a photograph from what life offers keeps me engaged.
Is there anything you would like to add that we haven’t touched on in this conversation?
Perhaps just that, although much of my work is made far from home, what draws me to those places is often something familiar: the ways people care for one another, find joy, work, worship, or cope with difficulty. The circumstances differ, and those differences deserve attention, but so do the experiences we share.
I hope my photographs encourage someone to look a little longer and feel a little less distance from the people pictured. That hope continues to give purpose to my work.
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