The language of photography relies on clear terms. When we speak of “candid” or “unguarded,” we mean something very specific. These are moments that are not staged, that arise without intervention, and that convince through their authenticity. It is about seeing the world as it is and capturing exactly that unprotected instant.
All the more puzzling, then, when a recent international award in the People/Lifestyle category presents a series as “candid,” although it is obviously staged. Perfect lighting dramaturgy, recurring role distributions, carefully composed interiors, and semi-nude figures visibly following direction. Everything bears the mark of a conceptual approach rather than that of an unobtrusive observer.
I directly contacted the organizers, because the issue here is not the artistic quality of the photographs, but their declaration. In the official award statement, the images were explicitly described as candid and unguarded. The answer I received was polite but evasive. They explained that the category did not require one hundred percent candid work and that the jury had freedom of interpretation. Yet this does not resolve the contradiction. The problem does not lie in the rules of the category, but in the communication: when staged work is publicly declared and awarded as candid, the platform itself contributes to diluting the meaning of the term.
An unstaged moment looks different. It is not spectacular, not over-stylized, not calculated. It may appear unspectacular precisely because it is real. But that is where its power lies.
This image is an example of such a situation. It was taken in preparation for a portrait. While the subjects were arranging themselves, they started fooling around, laughing, and breaking the expected pose. The actual portrait itself became irrelevant. What mattered was the brief moment in between. The facial expression, the grimace, the child with the stuffed toy – none of it was prepared. It simply happened. And that is the essence of candid photography.
When competitions, magazines, or juries blur this distinction, the consequences extend further. A new generation of photographers adopts the wrong definition. Words that once offered clarity turn into marketing slogans. Eventually, those who actually work candidly are forced to use phrases like “real candid” or “authentic candid” to make clear that they actually mean what the term used to stand for.
Precise language matters. Not to be pedantic about definitions, but because it preserves respect for different approaches. Documentary photography operates by different standards than conceptual photography. If we fail to take this seriously, we lose not just a word, but a piece of photographic truth.
