Despite the countless number of times I’ve been to Chinatown, I don’t believe I’ve done any streeting there before. I wasn’t expecting to get away with much when I took my camera out of my bag, but the outcome has proven me wrong. Bolder, closer, and hopefully better? And I was hardly shooting deliberately, just quick snaps here and there as I passed through on an errand.
At Covent Garden, a Chinese-looking cleaner was standing by his cart of junk cardboard, watching a busker. He had the most cheerful, carefree face, despite the nature of his job. He was like a little child, engrossed in the street magic show. The lightning was perfect then, and I could visualise in my mind the perfect shot, him and his expression juxtaposed with his cart and work overalls and high-vis vest. I knew though, that he was aware of my presence. Lifting the camera to my face, I sought his permission with eye contact and a smile, but it was denied. “No no, I’m working,” he waved me off, before abruptly turning his back on me and hastily re-arranging the folded boxes, as if he was feeling guilty to have been caught enjoying himself instead of labouring.
