Member Spotlight: Yiran Zou

Tell us a bit about yourself and how you got your start in photography. What compelled you to pick up a camera and start shooting?

My mom used to make a photo album for me every year. Though much of my early childhood is a blur, I vividly remember the thrill of picking up our prints from the photo lab, still warm from the printer and smelling of fresh ink. As I grew older, I naturally took over the role: I would meticulously document our travels, edit and curate the photos, and share them on my blog so friends and family could follow along. Then came a few years where I felt very lost and self-conscious about making everything about 'me and what I see' (and impulsively deleted all my blogs, which I deeply, deeply regret till this day).

Fortunately, I eventually got out of my own head. I realized that photography isn’t about controlling what I capture. It’s about bearing witness to what’s already present, staying humble, and welcoming whatever enters my frame. Approaching photography as almost a meditative practice, where I am merely an observer or passerby, is what compels me to pick up a camera nowadays.

How did you discover CMC? What has your experience been like as part of the collective so far?

I discovered CMC after taking Erica’s class, ‘Photographing Love and Intimacy on The Street.’ Through her, I was introduced to this incredible community of talented photographers. My experience so far has been deeply inspiring. I love seeing the sheer diversity of work: from street and landscape to long-term portrait projects and alternative processing. What I appreciate most is the directors’ emphasis on storytelling: the conversation is never about gear, digital versus film, or chasing a single 'dazzling' shot. It's about building a holistic body of work and honoring personal narratives. The critiques are remarkably effective yet feel friendly, personal, and respectful. Because everyone is allowed and encouraged to be vulnerable, it creates a safe space to grow. As someone who was initially intimidated by street photography, the group gave me the confidence to get closer to my subjects, capture genuine intimacy, and share my own voice in front of the collective.

What do you find most fulfilling about making photographs, and why? On the flip side, what do you find most challenging or frustrating about the process?

I am most fulfilled when my images bring tangible value or happiness to others. From gifting friends a small printed postcard to knowing someone wants to hang my photo on their wall, regardless of scale, I am always honored to have a piece live in a physical space. Other times, it ranges from capturing content for a friend's concert to photographing an event that helps with their grant application. Supporting each other in the creative community is deeply inspiring to me.

The most challenging aspect is navigating between my varied creative interests. I enjoy taking photos when traveling and hiking, but there is already an inherent trade-off between simply being present in a landscape and reaching for my camera. Beyond that, I constantly feel pulled in too many directions at once: between spending more time on the streets, experimenting with risograph and alternative processing, starting a documentary series and many more ideas that I would love to pursue. 

Share 5-8 images that feel most like you right now. They don't have to be your newest or your "best" work. Instead, just the photographs you'd show someone who has never seen your work before. Walk us through each image and tell us why you chose it.

Right now, I’d say I’m in my street phase. I just take my camera along when I happen to have a free Sunday afternoon, and let the city guide where I look. For example, I could never time standing right next to this boy bursting out of a taxi, nor could I manifest sitting across from this family on the subway with such magnetic energy. Whenever I feel a lack of inspiration, I walk around Washington Square Park, or if I am feeling adventurous, I take the free ferry to Staten Island and back. Every time it is different. The light shifts, the people change, but it is always interesting and there is never a shortage of subjects. 

These last two images were taken with a thirty-year-old camera that my dad bought for my mom as his very first gift to her. Despite its imperfections, I love the soft, hazy, grainy texture and dreamy, romantic mood it creates. That is exactly how I remember that day, which was the first time my partner and I took a day trip to a local beach.