Stephen DiRado is an obsessive documentarian of human interactions. When I first sat across from him at a dinner party, he whipped out a digital camera and started not-so-sneakily taking photos in all directions. Talking to him meant following the conversation, trying to overlook the confrontation of the camera lens, and performing candidness all at once. DiRado is sharp-witted and speaks very fast. This whole time I thought, he’s more of a journalist than I am, because photography felt like his default way of experiencing life—an activity as automatic and essential as breathing. Meanwhile, it’s hard to fight off the skepticism about the sheer volume of images he must have accumulated: at what point do images lose meaning and become mundane or repetitive? In response and in defense of his intentionality, DiRado started unpacking how the two dinner guests flanking me looked like wings when they both turned away, how that particular shot was fluid and symmetrical, and how I put on a grin after hearing him describe the scene I found myself in. That’s when I became convinced that he’s a good photographer before even seeing his works in person, not because he sees through his camera lens, but because he sees and his camera sees. 

Recently, KAPOW Gallery presented DiRado’s early series, Bell Pond, in which he photographed members of the local community in Worcester, Massachusetts, between May and October 1983. The subjects, many of whom were youths, gazed directly into the camera.

Now I wonder if he ever counted the number of people he’s photographed.

Xuezhu Jenny Wang: What drives you to capture a moment, a subject matter, or a person?

Stephen DiRado: I am motivated by my emotional response towards just about any situation that I am directly engaged in. The challenge, depending on the subject matter, is to discreetly or overtly utilize my camera to best distill and illustrate our collective interactions. A day rarely slips by without me acting upon this obsession.  

XJW: You carry a camera with you everywhere you go. Do you consider film photography and digital photography distinct practices? Do you draw a distinction between when you take photographs in a documentarian way vs. as artistic work?

SDR: When working with film, I mostly use an 8 x 10 camera for its superior ability to control focus and the infinite amount of detail attained with its large negative. It is also the camera of choice for it acts as a fulcrum when spending hours, days and even years repeatedly documenting the same subjects. This methodical approach builds mutual trust and intimacy that is revealed in the resulting photographs.

The antithesis is my use of a digital camera: Shooting with a small compact camera in hand, I endlessly snap away with it, occasionally bringing it up to my eye to frame my subject(s). The camera is always visible to the point that it becomes invisible. I implement this approach daily during conversations with people in my daily life. Unlike shooting with the large format camera where one definitive photograph is made, hundreds of photographs are effortlessly taken with digital. Through the editing process the best emerge—I am rarely disappointed.

XJW: Can you speak more about the Bell Pond series? Was there a specific mood or reality you were trying to capture? What were the power dynamics between you and the subjects like? Did the series affect your broader practice in a permanent way?

SDR: Bell Pond is a photography essay that depicts a portrait of a community who resided summer long at an urban recreational park and swimming pond. Late May 1983, I introduced myself to the local inhabitants as a photographer interested in documenting their lives with the promise to distribute prints to those willing to pose. Within days, I had subjects waiting for my daily arrival eager to receive the previous day’s photos. To my surprise, this became a ritual. For many I became their friend; furthermore to a few, I became their therapist. By early July I was completely immersed within the community—tapping into its psyche, I found my stride, making as many as a dozen photographs per day. That said, I also never lost sight of the privilege of being accepted into a neighborhood that I ostensibly had no business documenting. My earnest efforts in the end produced a cohesive body of work that is emotionally raw. The results changed my life forever—it’s seminal work that paved the way for all essays to come. 

XJW: You've briefly mentioned navigating the world through the camera as a mediator. Can you speak more about this and your relationship with photography?

SDR: Painfully shy as a child, I recognized during my teens that a camera in hand gave me confidence to take portraits of family, friends, and eventually outward to connect with people. This positive reinforcement pushed me forward to concentrate on documenting people in their own domains. It was an adrenaline-filled curiosity to meet up with individuals on city streets, public parks, and suburban neighborhoods. Nothing was rushed; conversations took place long before the act of taking photographs. Since my youth, this basic approach has not changed. I still carry a camera with me and act upon attempting to document everything around me. What has changed are the multiple and progressive ways I construct each photograph to create in-depth narratives based on empathy.

XJW: Is photography underrepresented in the contemporary art world? Why or why not?

SDR: Since the 1970s, photography has gained respect and a high profile in the art world. That said, photography has always been a slippery medium, misunderstood by most who take it for granted that it is a trivial art form. Thus, in my opinion, it is one of the hardest mediums to break new ground—not in a technical sense, but in a way that supports a singular voice. The art world is eager to see photo exhibitions, but in general, it is insecure when it comes to collecting contemporary photography. … And I get it. It is numbing to cut through the amorphous postings on social media. Even the best and most compelling images are just a blur. Lost in a world of dreck. 

This interview has been edited for clarity and length. 

Stephen DiRado: Bell Pond was on view at KAPOW Gallery between September 4 and October 3, 2026.