Alex Webb’s street scenes capture life at its most poetic
- Text by Alex Webb
- Photography by Alex Webb / Magnum Photos

This article appears in Huck 57 – The Documentary Photo Special IV.
The roots of my photography lie deep in my childhood.
I come from a family immersed in the arts: my mother was a sculptor and draftsman, my brother is a painter and my sister is an ornithological illustrator.
As a child I visited museums regularly with my family and I suspect that those early viewings of de Chirico, Matisse and Braque still affect how I see.

Nicaragua, 1992.

Bombay, 1981.
My father – a publisher, secretive writer and occasional photographer – taught me photographic technique as well as introducing me to a variety of photographic works, including the two photography books that initially inspired me: Henri Cartier-Bresson’s The Decisive Moment and Robert Frank’s The Americans.
From early on, I was project-oriented. In college I produced a series of photographs of teenagers skipping class, following them from the drug store where they hung out to pool halls and bowling alleys.
I also began a series of somewhat alienated and ironic photographs of strip malls north of Boston. But as I worked more in this latter direction, I began to feel that I was reaching a dead end with my work.

Cuba, 1993.

Cuba, 2001.
For some reason, it wasn’t taking me anywhere new. I seemed to be exploring territory that other photographers had already discovered.
I happened to pick up Graham Greene’s novel, The Comedians, a work set in the turbulent world of Papa Doc’s Haiti, and read about a world that fascinated and scared me.
Within months, I was on a plane to Port-au-Prince. That first three-week trip to Haiti transformed me, both as a photographer and as a human.
I photographed a world I had never experienced before, a world of emotional vibrancy and intensity: raw, disjointed, often tragic.

Florida, 1988.

Haiti, 1986.
I began to explore other places – in the Caribbean and especially along the US-Mexico border; places where life seemed to be lived on the stoop and in the street.
Three years after my first trip to Haiti, I realised there was another emotional note that had to be reckoned with.
Searing light and intense colour seemed somehow embedded in the cultures that I had begun working in, so utterly different than the grey-brown reticence of my New England background.

Panama, 2004.

Mexico, 1996.
Ever since then, I’ve worked predominantly in colour. Whatever insights – sociopolitical, cultural or aesthetic – I may have into the societies I have photographed come not from preconception, but from the process of wandering the street.
At times, I feel the street can act as a kind of bellwether, hinting at sociopolitical changes to come.
Over the years, my way of seeing in colour has expanded into various projects, leading me to places of cultural and often political uncertainty – borders, islands, edges of societies – where cultures merge, sometimes clashing, sometimes fusing.

Brazil, 1993.

Zaire, 1982.
Between 1986 and 2007 I produced eight books that reflect this ongoing obsession. Since 2009, I have completed three collaborative books with my wife and creative partner, the photographer Rebecca Norris Webb.
One of them, Memory City, is about Rochester, New York – the long-time home of Kodak – one year after the company declared bankruptcy. It’s also a kind of meditation on film, time and memory.
This book is the first in a series of projects – both individual and collaborative with Rebecca – in the US that I expect to work on over the next years.
Yet even there, my interest in borders and edges remains, as I find myself examining places where cultures merge and fuse, with North American cities being transformed by the arrival of new immigrants.
In some sense, in many US cities, borders are everywhere. Maybe, after wandering the world for some 35 years, I am finally ready to confront my own culture with the camera.
La Calle, photographs by Alex Webb from Mexico, 1975-2007, is published by Aperture. Check out this portfolio at Magnum Photos.
This article appears in Huck 57 – The Documentary Photo Special IV. Subscribe today so you never miss another issue.
Enjoyed this article? Like Huck on Facebook or follow us on Twitter.
Latest on Huck

Plestia Alaqad: “Journalists should focus on humanising people”
Huck’s April interview — Having become one of the most crucial and followed voices from inside Gaza in the aftermath of October 7, the award-winning author and journalist is releasing a new memoir, ‘The Eyes of Gaza’, collating diary entries made over the past 18 months. We caught up with her to hear more about it.
Written by: Isaac Muk

The instrument makers taking DIY music to a whole new level
What does it take to construct a modular synth? How do you turn a block of wood into a double bass? Here, four craftspeople explain why they chose to rip up the rulebooks and build their own music-making machines.
Written by: Daniel Dylan Wray

Southbank Centre reveals new series dedicated to East and Southeast Asian arts
ESEA Encounters — Taking place between 17-20 July, there will be a live concert from YMO’s Haruomi Hosono, as well as discussions around Asian literature, stage productions, and a pop-up Japanese Yokimono summer market.
Written by: Zahra Onsori

In 1971, Pink Narcissus redefined queer eroticism
Camp classic — A new restoration of James Bidgood’s cult film is showing in US theatres this spring. We revisit its boundary pushing aesthetics, as well as its enduring legacy.
Written by: Miss Rosen

As amapiano goes global, where does it leave its roots?
Rainbow grooves — Over the past decade, the house music subgenre has exploded into a worldwide phenomenon. Jak Hutchcraft went to its birthplace of Mamelodi, South Africa, to explore its still-thriving local scene.
Written by: Jak Hutchcraft

Clubbing is good for your health, according to neuroscientists
We Become One — A new documentary explores the positive effects that dance music and shared musical experiences can have on the human brain.
Written by: Zahra Onsori