By Caroline M. Cole

A yeshiva student with his hand on the wrist of a fish market worker, who’s touching the student’s shoulder. A young African-American male wearing a yellow bandana and baggy clothes clutching a Caucasian bride. A towering male wearing a red hoodie, grey sweat pants, and knit cap kneeling to be at eye-level with an elderly woman whose hands he’s grasping. A Latino male carrying a Caucasian girl with long, blond hair. A young woman wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and gladiator sandals leaning against a man in a business suit carrying a briefcase. An elderly Caucasian man with his hand on that of a younger Indian woman, who’s wrapping her arm around his shoulder as they sit side-by-side at a diner. A bearded male wearing combat boots, cargo shorts, and a leather chest harness wrapping his arms around the waist of an older, clean-shaven man in grey pants and a yellow dress shirt. A Caucasian teen wearing a red polo, khaki shorts, and docksiders standing behind a woman in a purple sari, holding her shoulders. A woman in jeans kneeling beside a Bengali woman sitting on a chair, their heads leaning against each other’s. An African-American youth resting his hand on the right shoulder of an older Caucasian male wearing a cowboy hat.

Unusual combinations of people on streets across America, they are some of the images captured by New York photographer Richard Renaldi for his series “Touching Strangers.”

Emerging from an earlier project in which Renaldi photographed individuals in bus depots, the images in this series depict two or more total strangers that Renaldi would ask to physically interact with each other in some manner for a photograph he would take with an 8″ x 10″ view camera. In doing so, Renaldi sought to capture an intimate yet ephemeral moment—one that existed only for the camera—in an effort to break down ethnic, religious, socioeconomic, and age barriers.

In various interviews, Renaldi discusses the difficulties involved in his “Touching Strangers” series. Aside from the work he must do as a photographer to capture a moment in an engaging manner, he mentions the negotiation that’s involved in getting two or more unacquainted individuals to agree to be photographed together. Then, he adds, there’s the challenge of getting those individuals to “push past comfort levels into a physical intimacy normally reserved for loved ones or friends,” if only for a moment.

Unsure of what he was after when he began the series, Renaldi notes that he encouraged the “least amount of touching possible” at first but, over the years, has become more aggressive in encouraging interactions. The result: a visual commentary on the ways people connect to and communicate with strangers. Some photographs, for example, reveal a noticeable hesitation between or among participants, while others depict an easiness shared by friends, lovers, or family members.

Individually and collectively, Renaldi’s photographs remind us that we move through a world of diverse individuals who hold the potential to touch our lives, yet routines, assumptions, and attitudes often make us reticent if not resistant to interacting with people beyond our chosen or preferred circles. Consequently, when strangers do appear in a frame with us, we may work to crop them from the picture or simply register them as part of the scenery—people who dot the landscapes through which we travel, but who are negligible on our journey.

They are the people distributing fliers announcing a lunch special, personal service, or theatrical event; they are the people asking for spare change on a corner, peddling candy on a subway line, or soliciting signatures for the latest cause; they are the people waiting next to us at the bus stop, at a taxi stand, at the ATM, or in line at the coffee shop; they are the people clearing our tables, collecting our tolls; and bagging our groceries; they are the people washing widows; watering lawns, picking up trash, and pushing carts overwhelmed with cans and bottles meant for recycling.

They are the people moving alongside us, passing us or, at times, hindering us on our way to be with people we really want to see. And while these individuals may bump into us by accident and jar us from our thoughts, by and large they are, and remain, inconsequential.

Perhaps, as Renaldi found in the people he asked to participate in this series or as implied by the comments people have left on various websites promoting Renaldi’s exhibit, we, too, find it difficult, undesirable, or even creepy to “touch” strangers; after all, it can be easier to redirect our lens to other subject matter or put the camera away all together than to focus on or engage with people we might not choose to see in our viewfinder or have in our pictures—especially if doing so captures our own awkwardness or uneasiness.

To be fair, there are times we must interact with strangers, and we may even be skilled in doing so. For example, we know how to ask the server for our check and the valet for our car; we know how to secure a seat on an overbooked flight; we know how to redress an overcharge on a credit card statement; we know how to get into a crowded club; we know how to network and interview; we know how to solicit customers and how to pitch our products and services to new clients. In brief, we know how to connect and how to communicate when we feel it matters.

People should always matter, but sometimes our interactions or the lack thereof suggest that’s not the case. Granted, we are busy. Our days are packed with commitments that leave little time even for the people who matter most to us. But is does not take much to connect with the people who enter the frames of our lives with a genuine, albeit brief communication act. It does not, for instance, take much time to say “good morning,” or “thank you,” or “excuse me,” or “I’m sorry, not today.” It does not take much time to make eye contact, or to nod in recognition, or to smile. And it does not take much time to treat those who travel along the same road with civility, compassion, or respect.

American poet Paul Eldridge wrote in a 1948 article entitled “Lanterns in the Night” that our character is most evident in the ways we treat “those who are not in a position either to retaliate or reciprocate.” Strangers often fall into this category.

We might not aspire to increase the numbers in our network by interacting with strangers, but we should recognize that each encounter—even a transient one—provides an opportunity to enhance our communication. By opening ourselves to the possibilities within these moments, we might discover that the strangers we come upon throughout the day are actually touching our lives by showing us how to have better connection, communication, and intimacy with the people we seek out in our journey.

Working toward Areté…
This week, engage with a stranger in a way that pushes you beyond the conventional and the comfortable, or share your thoughts for ways to use communication to connect with a stranger who can neither retaliate nor reciprocate.