A few weeks ago, a friend forwarded me a photo of yoga students seated in Sukhasana, eyes closed. “Got this in an email. I see you!” he wrote.
I had no idea that someone was taking pictures. Our eyes were closed! And I never agreed to let photos taken at the workshop be publicized or used for marketing. Here, the photo was included in a fundraising campaign.
While I enthusiastically participate in IYISF classes (and support the Iyengar Yoga Association of Northern California), I prefer not to participate in their online presence. I emailed them to request that the photo be switched out. A staffer wrote back, apologizing and confirming that their marketing department would mark the photo for non-use in future campaigns, in Facebook, and in Instagram.
It took several days (and the photo appeared in one more email message) but, as promised, it disappeared online. I appreciated IYISF’s prompt and understanding response.
Privacy expectations in yoga
I knew that I was probably the only one who complained. Many people are delighted to see their images splashed online (“Hey! Look at me in San Francisco!). They probably “like” or “share” the original post to snowball the effect.
Most people don’t mind—or they throw up their hands and accept that they could be photographed any time they leave home. We’ve all probably inadvertently photobombed countless shots just walking down the street!
Some people might object only if their images are used for commercial purposes. In the US, Canada, and many countries, using the name or likeness of a person for exploitative or commercial purposes is illegal. The right of publicity (also known as personality rights) is well established in law worldwide.
Me? I simply don’t want to be randomly photographed during yoga classes—while I’m being purely a yoga student in my private life. (I expect the same privacy while attending other types of classes, eating at a restaurant, shopping, riding pubic transit, or otherwise minding my own business.)
Professionally, I do have an online presence—including my blog, my website, and my own marketing pics. But my private life, including my yoga practice, is not shared with the Internet masses. I avoid social media. I much prefer interacting one to one, face to face.
If I myself don’t post selfies on social media, why would I agree to studios posting pics of me?
Even if I did post pics of me on vacation, or me with my family, or me eating a fantastic sushi dinner… I would never post pics of other people without their agreement.
In the yoga realm, particularly off-limits are poses with closed eyes, such as Savasana, discussed in Savasana Is Not a Photo Op, Yoga International. Pranayama and meditation are likewise not meant for unexpected photography. And who would intrude on these private moments? Common courtesy stops people from photographing mourners at a funeral or patients in a hospital. To me, it’s likewise in yoga settings.
What if students are informed and give consent? There might be no legal breach, but how can anyone relax and disengage from the outside world if they know they’re being photographed? The class would devolve into a staged performance.
Real-life yoga workshop examples
In everyday Iyengar yoga classes, photography is rare. But at workshops I have seen a range of camera protocols:
- During Chris Saudek‘s recent workshop in Victoria, she noticed a student—who is a longtime teacher herself—aiming her cell-phone camera. “Did you ask if you could take pictures?” Chris said. Startled, the student mumbled that she’d asked during a past workshop. “But did you ask this time?” Chris persisted. “What are you doing with the photos? Will they end up on Facebook?” With an embarrassed smile, the student shook her head and put her phone away. (I later thanked Chris.)
- When I attended HS Arun‘s San Francisco workshop in 2013, his elaborate prop set-ups and lengthy demos made for irresistible photo-ops. At least half, possibly three-fourths, of the participants (including myself) whipped out their cell phones or iPads and fired away. Arun is a showman and didn’t mind at all. He jokingly commented that we looked like a bunch of paparazzi!
- At Firooza Razvi‘s 2016 workshop in San Francisco, only a few people occasionally photographed her demos. Once, noticing someone capturing her pose, she commented, “I’m not even in the pose yet. That picture shows nothing.” She blends bluntness and graceful composure to great effect. She then refined her pose more and more until she reached its final incarnation. (I don’t know if the student caught it.)
- This past summer Lois Steinberg offered a mini “class before class” each day during her San Francisco workshop. Many of us took pics to record the lessons. I opted for photography to jog my memory later; I wanted my mind to be clear for the actual workshop, which immediately followed. If ever I want to post the pics, I would request permission from Lois and any student included.
No photos unless requested
As a teacher, I would never photograph my students without their consent. If I take photos for my benefit, I would get their signed permission. If I take informal pics of students to enhance learning, I’d use their own cameras. (If students don’t understand what their bodies are doing (or don’t believe what I tell them), photos can be convincing and worthy of a thousand words.) Likewise I don’t allow students to take pictures in my classes. Who knows where the photos will end up?
What are your thoughts on cameras in class?
Images: Laurent de Brunhoff collection, Mary Ryan Gallery, New York