Fair judgement, Chairman. I always respect the Chair.
Keep in mind, though, that 90% (or some such figure) of all attempts at street photography end in failure, so I'm happy to be among the majority.
This picture, like most of its kind, and I certainly wouldn't hold it out as a model, is just a moment of serendipity - a little drama played out accidentally in its elements in front of a keen eye. Pure 'street' has that extra, inexplicable, ambiguous ingredient which is missing here. You can't define it, only recognise it but you know when it's missing.
Admittedly, I've shot better, but the bottom line is always the same: raw instinct. The curse and the magic can't be explained. I click. I get a rush. I imagine: 'I nailed it'. And I move on. It's only when I come back to my files, sooner or later, that many of them turn out to be a bitter disappointment.
Remember Garry Winogrand. He died without seeing a lot of his work. He shot hundred of thousands of photographs. Many of them weren't even developed in his lifetime. The difference, however, is that he seemed to nail everything while he was out in the streets rather than hunkered up in a darkroom processing his stuff.
With me it goes like this: I see what I think is a striking, human condition and I shoot instinctively. And at that moment, I don't know what I've got although I have high hopes. Only later, the later the better, I find that most of the time I might have the occasional pearl but usually nothing. And even when I think I have something, I'm still not sure because like most photographers, I'm my own worst editor even though I was a newspaper boss for over forty years. But then, I was objectively editing the work of others - a nice luxury.
Be warned: you are your own worst enemy in that regard.
I had completely forgotten about this particular little image for a very long time until I came across it tonight going through some nostalgic family files. (In the final analysis, they are the only ones worth keeping.) For all anybody knows, this guy could be talking on the phone to his wife, but I remember thinking that he looked a forlorn figure. I have become familiar with that condition lately since the recent death of my beloved wife, but the picture was taken long before then. It goes to show that the human condition never changes.