Friends & Fellows

An Interview Series

Film & Print

On Presence, Instinct and the Ethics of Looking
An Interview with Mohamadou Sow on July 2, 2026

Excerpt from my book, 2026 (coming soon).

  I met Mohamadou Sow at one of my Intro to 16mm Film Workshops last year. After that, we would run into each other in Center City (that's downtown for all the non Philly folks) as we both are often out and about shooting street photography. Some people you hit it off with, and others remain acquaintances, Mohamadou (aka @docsow on Instagram) was more of the former. We decided to get together and do a photo walk together, which is an excuse to get out and shoot, but also walk and talk. The usual banter is getting to know each other, talking shop, nerding out over gear, and all things related to the craft of film (stills or motion). But what can happen beyond that, is that the conversation takes on a deeper tone, which is what happened with Mohamadou.

    As we were discussing the ethics of street photography and permission to take the photo of strangers on the street, I realized others might like to peer into some of these convos and asked if we could meet up again for me to record it. So, what we have below is an edited interview based on a walk and talk we had on July 2nd, 2026 (which also happened to be the hottest day of the year at 101 degrees). That made it a little more difficult for us to be out, as well as less foot traffic than normal, but we suffer for the art and keep pushing.

All photos taken by me, except where noted.

How long have you been shooting?

    Yeah, so I've been shooting since 2016. That was like the first time I got introduced to photography. It was in high school. I kind of had a friend bring the camera in class for a yearbook for senior year.
    I'd take photos, and then every day I was just like, dude, can I borrow your camera?

What were you taking photos of?

    Naturally I found that I was interested in people, the moments. Because I kept thinking, what would I want to see when I look back at this yearbook? I want to go back to an instant memory. Like, okay, who's around? What was happening here?

Is that the first time you saw your work out in the wild?

    Yeah, that would be the first time that I seen my work in the wild. It was an internal excitement that I never shared, but that actually made me feel good. I was like, OK, cool. I think I want to continue on with this.
    Then went to college the following year at Penn State. Obviously took out loans and did all the shebang. Got a refund check. Supposed to be buying books, but bought my first Canon Rebel. And yeah, it's just been a journey since then. Started digital, and then film came along the way.

What was your first film experience?

    Around 2019 or 2020. I bought a film camera at a random shop with no idea what I was doing. I think it took me a year, maybe two, to shoot one roll. It was an AE-1, the classic camera, I think it was their best-selling one. I remember the first roll I got back was from a trip to San Diego. I was like, oh, this isn't that bad. I think I want to do this.

What's some lessons you've learned?

    I shot an entire roll in Paris once, the AE-1. I come back, go to the photo lab. Now, I had no idea how film really works. I go up to the guy, open the back of the camera myself, and I'm like, "Hey, can you take this out?" He's like, what? Snap. Gone. I was like, no, no, no, no. He's like, "Yep. Can't do nothing." I literally opened it in the middle of the shop.
    I've never made that mistake again. But looking back, I'm just grateful for it. Because if I did that now, the stakes would be higher. At the time it was just one mistake, now I can laugh at it.
    In my head, I took the most beautiful photos of my life. But we'll never know, right?

Why do you think you shoot photos?

    I don't know. For me, I just want to capture the moments, whatever space I'm in. I use the camera as my way to show my presence in these spaces.
    But it's interesting, though. I've been thinking, do I want to be photographed too? Because you only ever see my photographs. You see my perspective, whatever I was looking at. But you can't see me in it. So sometimes I think: is my photo enough to say I was here? Or do I actually want to be seen in the space too?
    I haven't come up with an answer yet. Maybe it's rangefinder film selfies. I turned a few on this roll, it wasn't that bad.
    But it's something I need to be more conscious of. Being present in the space, not just documenting it.

Do you find yourself taking the same photo over and over, chasing any themes?

    No, I wouldn't say so. I don't gravitate toward one thing and get annoyed like, oh my god, not this again. At least not yet. Maybe I just have to keep shooting, I'll get there.
    But I do find that people are somewhat in most of my photos. Whether it's someone walking, or a portrait on the street. I wouldn't call it a theme exactly. It just happens.

Candid or posed?

    No pose. At all But if someone poses for me, like, they see the camera and go, "oh, you're a photographer, take my picture," sure, I'll take it. I can't just say no, you were looking at me. That depends on whether it's the photo I actually wanted or not. I've never really considered lying about it either way. I'm not trying to be deceptive. It's just, you're in the picture.
    But mostly I'm candid. I wouldn't say I hate posed work, but I'd prefer not to. Especially with street. I'm just an observer. I shouldn't be forcing an experience in order to photograph it.

You seem more like a documentarian.

    I'd say that's the closest label. But I don't know how I feel about labeling the type of photography I do at all, honestly. For me, I'm just a photographer, I can jump in and out of these labels. I could say I'm a street photographer today and something completely different tomorrow. Some people know exactly what they are and stick with it, by all means, if that's you, great. For me it's all under the same umbrella.
    But if I had to label it, documentarian. I shot a Juneteenth event a few weeks ago, and it was just this dope scene, everyone out, hot as hell, but just seeing Black joy, people excited, happy, having a good time. You can feel the energy. And I love that, because now I can say: look, this is what was happening.
    This is the memory capsule thing, you pull up a photo and it takes you right back to the day, the interaction. Even if I don't have the best memory generally, if I look at a picture, I remember taking it.

How do you think your photos reveal your personality?

    That's a very good question. I want to think on it more, honestly. I don't know if I have a full answer.
    It correlates to the earlier question, actually. If you keep taking the same kind of photo, there's a reason, conscious or subconscious.

What are your boundaries around who and what you photograph?

    First one is, if someone looks like they don't want me to take it, I'll avoid it. Sometimes I've taken photos and people are like, don't take my picture. So that means to me like, hey, X this out. Don't use this.
    On time it happened abroad, I was in Brazil, a woman told me no after I'd already taken it. I didn't speak Portuguese, but the understanding was mutual. I made a mental note: don't use that one.
    Beyond that, it's people in compromising positions, and what that means is really just up to my interpretation. It's a feeling. Instinctively we know as photographers what's right and wrong, or we should. I might not be able to articulate why, but my instinct tells me.
    Take somewhere like Kensington, I used to live near there, off the El. Sometimes people are very high. I wouldn't take a photo of that. It's not that it's wrong, exactly, or dehumanizing, it's instinctual. I'm not going to take advantage of someone while they're down. I'd say the same for people who are homeless.
    But all these are rules, and rules can be broken. If the intent is to raise awareness, to teach people about something, that's different. It has a redemptive quality to it. The caveat is it can't be selfish. It can't be "I want to build my portfolio off this."

Do photographers owe something back to the people they photograph?

    As photographers, we're the biggest takers. Meaning we truly just take, take, take, take. And I think we need to start giving back. It doesn't need to be complex. It can be as simple as producing a project that teaches people about something.
    Whatever you're taking should add some value back to society. Intention is key.

I've been walking these same streets, shooting them, for nine, ten years now. There's a parallel to liturgy in the Christian church, the repetition, the weekly discipline of routine. It can feel boring, especially to our American sensibilities. How do you work through the monotony of shooting the same streets for years?

    Sometimes walking around, it does feel like I've photographed everything already. But my hope, my optimism, is that there are new people on these streets, which makes it different every time. People are doing different things every time. I've come here for lunch a hundred times and never seen this before, so that's new to me. It keeps me from getting bored, from thinking I've already done it all.
    So like as they're changing, then I think of it as like a new scene, new people, new experience,
new memory and all that. But that is a fair take though.

What's next for you, project-wise?

    The next project I want to make requires funding, a ticket back to Senegal. That's where I consider home. All my mannerisms and all that, I picked up from them. So I will say I'm from there. And it's been a while since I've gone back. In the last 16 years, I've only been back once. So I want to go back and just document home, and lead into what I was talking about in the beginning of having a time capsule memory for myself.
    I've wondered: how many photographers actually photograph their own family? I feel weird about that. Maybe it's because we just live around each other, or you just want to be present with them when you see them, not behind a camera. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. I want to sit with that question.

How would you describe Senegal, what's different about it?

    Community. Everything people do there is more community-focused, more conscious of each other. In the States, it's more individualistic. Both have their place, if you need help, you can rely on your community there. Here, you can focus more on yourself, on the grind, on your own shot at things. But you have to work for it either way.

What do you still want to learn about the craft?

    Half of the experience is me taking a photo. The other half is the blessing of the chemistry, Because I shoot film, I'm depending on whoever's developing it, and they can alter the image without meaning to. Right now my goal is learning that second half myself. Making the whole image, start to finish.
    I got a scanner, that's the first step. I still send my film out to be developed, but I scan it myself now. It's my current adventure. Development is a whole different beast. But if I cultivate those skills, I'll feel complete, I'll have control over the entire experience.
    I actually just moved, and I'm thinking about turning one of my rooms into a darkroom. Or maybe getting a studio with some friends and building a community darkroom together, pitch in for the chemicals, split the cost. Because I shoot enough to justify it. That's the goal, give back to the community again.
    Money will help me get there, sure. But it's not frustrating, learning this. I still love photography, so having to learn more of it isn't annoying, it's exciting.

Do you feel any obligation to portray your communities a certain way, to avoid stereotype, or to push back against it?

    No, because I try to be as neutral as possible. As a photographer, I try not to pick sides, because I feel like that sways the narrative. I just try to show whatever's happening as neutrally as I can. But that's something I should think about more. I might not consciously push an angle, but subconsciously? Maybe. There's some filtering happening in my head, even if I'm not trying to.
    But yeah, there's always some subjectivity in it. Honestly, these are all questions I should sit down and actually analyze more.

What makes a good photo to you?

    A lot of it is personal, that I like it. Technically, sure, the light, everything well-lit. But for me it's not always about that. Sometimes a photo isn't technically good, but I still like it. A lot of it is intuition. And some of it is emotional, there's a story behind why I took a certain shot, and that works for me.

This Has To Mean More
An Interview with Ander Kazmerski on August 7, 2026

Excerpt from my book, 2026 (coming soon).

      Ander, like so many other people in my life, is someone I met through Instagram circa 2018. Since then, he’s become a collaborator, friend, and is also a fellow West Philly resident.

He co-owns a production company, Floating Home Films, with business partner Alex Weiser.

Since meeting, we’ve collaborated on short films (investing our own time and energy) and commercial projects for various industries.  This seems to be the general nucleus that film projects revolve around. You find your tribe of people, make cool stuff with them, then bring them on paid gigs to return the favor (and sometimes you just enjoy hanging out).

    In addition to all of this, Ander is someone else that I frequently hit the streets with to do photography. On these walk-and-talks, we often talk about the business and economics of running production companies and being full-time freelancers in the film world. The common challenge of being content with our current state comes up, and we reflect on that: where we're at, where we'd like to go, and how we try to get there.

Lastly and fun fact, I've never seen Ander wear a coat. Being from Rochester, this man will wear shorts when it's a blizzard and have you questioning your own perception of reality. And that's just one of the things I love about this guy.

All photos taken by me, except where noted.

How would you describe Philly?

    How would I describe Philly? Man, that's a really good question. I'm trying to think if… I've been here for ten years now.

I think my first impression was that it was a pretty cool, small city that I was really impressed with how clean and old it looked. I don't know why that was my first impression, but I remember thinking it was really clean.

Wow, it's a clean city. I've never heard anyone say that.

    It felt that way. I think there was just like the vibe of West Philly. I was like, this is a cool neighborhood. It felt a little bit less like moving into the heart of a city. But we were really close to the city. And I like that.

West Philly (Cedar Park area) has that eclectic, diverse, liberal, educated type of feel.

    Totally. Yeah, that's true. Which I don't know. Maybe I identify with because that's kind of a Rochester feel.

What's your favorite restaurant in Philly?

    I would have to plug Honeysuckle. The menu changes all the time. The things that have stayed the same are like when you first sit down. They have this acorn bread that they make and it's super delicious. It's kind of like in the pumpernickel bread world but not really. They soak it in this delicious butter and it's just kind of crisp, kind of soggy, like perfectly cooked. It’s delightful.

All right, another question I've been asking people is something you're scared of right now. What's a fear you have?

    In the work world, I'm scared of becoming stagnant. And not growing. I feel like the work has been fairly steady and similar. Like three or four years. I do think we're doing better work. In time. But I don't think we’re pushing ourselves. I don't think the company is growing in the way that I want it to grow. And I worry about what that means for the future.

How do you measure that?

    Part of it is financial growth at the end of each year. Stepping back and taking a look at meeting our goals. Are we growing as much as we'd like? And I think the answer has been yes but, the last year and a half or so feels like, maybe we've plateaued a little.
    And then from a creative level like I want to be doing more. Like two to three day docs instead of the tourism stuff, the hype reels. I really enjoy even in the pharma world and the medical world, I like those two to three day docs that are challenging. There's a lot of pre-production involved. There's a lot of production challenges. The stories are real. And there's a lot of client challenges but it all feels collaborative. And I like those.

So is it part of a search for meaning in the work, or value in the work?

    Yeah, kind of. I do feel like a lot of the work we're doing now, like anybody could do it, which you can probably say that a lot about a lot of work, but I just feel like the world could have the content we're making or it could not and nothing will matter.
    And I'm not getting a lot out of it. I'm having fun. You know, I like the people that I'm working with but the experiences don't feel like something I'll remember in a couple of years.
    I used to have a lot of fond memories of the pharma work we used to do. You know pre COVID. We'd be with patients or doctors, inserting ourselves into their lives for two days and become really close with them and film their family and film their story. You go to a random town, city, like there'd be an experience, life experience built in around it. That was part of what I loved about my work in that way, which I imagine you might get from your travel work because you're also traveling.

So what do you want to do? What do you feel like you're best at? Or you get the most joy from?

    I've been thinking a lot about this, and I think it's directing docs. I don't like directing talent and actors.
    In documentaries, I can lean into letting a moment sit and just play out, in a way where I think a lot of, in my experience, a lot of talent, like actors, are looking for direction or feedback, in a way that I'm not always confident enough to give. But in documentaries, I love just sitting back and watching, and kind of like throwing in questions and poking a scene, but letting it unfold and watching it in that way.
    And in interviews, I love directing interviews, and interviewing people, but I think I'm better at producing it, and like pre-production, bringing a project and a team together, and being on set and managing. I feel like I enjoy that slightly less, but I can do that stuff in my sleep, and I can pull off productions anywhere, and in some pretty insane timelines, so that stuff doesn't bother me. I feel like I'm probably the best at just doing that.