Finnish-born and Estonia-based photographer Sanna Larmola loves photographing the simple moments of everyday life and ordinary people. Having travelled a lot, her favourite place to shoot is still her home city, Tallinn.

How she found her way to street photography, and what she thinks about photographing on Estonian streets, is revealed in the interview below.

How did you get into street photography? Why do you photograph on the streets?

I started ten years ago. I was living in North West England when my husband and I travelled by train through Central Europe to attend a festival in France and visit friends in Belgium and Germany. I wanted to document the new places I was about to experience, but I couldn’t take a camera and several lenses with me because we needed to travel as light as possible. So I only took one large handbag with me for the month-long trip. During the journey I noticed that my phone actually had a pretty decent camera, so I ran a few tests using manual black-and-white settings. Since I had no other choice, I tried photographing that way. When we finally got back home, I made a small online exhibition from the photos called “Time That Was Not” (“The Time That Was Not”) and got really good feedback. I was pleasantly surprised. After that, I started carrying a camera with me all the time.

What does street photography mean to you?

It’s documenting the everyday life of ordinary people in different places. Over the last ten years, I’ve travelled and worked around Europe and photographed the streets everywhere I’ve been. I’ve discovered that even if culture and local customs differ from country to country, people are quite similar. They have their hopes and fears; they love, eat, sleep, and live. No matter how, the end result serves the same basic purposes. That’s a very comforting thought to me.

Where do you find inspiration for photographing?

The biggest inspiration comes from situations where I see and experience something for the first time. That’s the moment when I feel alive. A first impression can only happen once, but often there’s something exciting and unique in that moment. That’s why I travel as often as I can—and now always with a camera. When I photograph in my home city Tallinn, I try to find new neighbourhoods, routes, and viewpoints to stay inspired.

Do you have a favourite photographer or a specific photo that has influenced you the most?

Henri Cartier-Bresson. His entire life’s work is brilliant. He photographed with a Leica 35 mm camera and always used a 50 mm lens. He had the patience to wait for the “decisive moment”—the exact time when the subjects “come alive” and form a composition. He created an emotional connection with his subjects to show them and their world exactly as they are, without passing judgement.

To name a few others: Josef Koudelka, Saul Leiter, Caj Bremer, Vivian Maier, and the witty New York nightlife documentarian Roxanne Lowit.

What are you looking for or hoping to find when you go out onto the street with a camera?

Usually I don’t have a specific subject in mind. I don’t make plans. I feel my task is to document life as it is. I step outside and start walking with a camera in my hand. I also carry a camera when I go to the shop or meet a friend, because you never know when the perfect moment will happen—and I want to be ready.

Are there any differences photographing on the streets in Estonia compared to Finland, where you’re originally from?

Estonia has a lot of grannies. I have no idea where the elderly ladies in Finland are. Maybe we’ve hidden them away in nursing homes and they don’t need to go out in public places. In fact, I don’t have much experience photographing street in Finland, because I moved away before I started actively shooting on the streets. But now that I’ve been away from Finland for decades, I should perhaps look at it with a camera as a new and unusual place.

What is your favourite place to photograph, and why?

Tallinn. I’m inspired by the everyday life of ordinary people and by places and situations where something feels slightly different. When I walk Tallinn’s streets, I can sense hundreds and thousands of years of history beneath my feet. The contrast between east and west, old and new, posh and grim creates an extremely fascinating, constantly changing, and inspiring atmosphere for documenting life. And because Tallinn is never quite finished—everything we see is in motion and in process—it adds tension to photographs.

Do you have any good tips or advice on how to become a better street photographer?

“If your photos aren’t good enough, you’re not close enough,” said Magnum Photos founding member and war photographer Robert Capa. I think that’s a great idea. For me, the most exciting street photographs are the ones where the photographer is in the middle of the scene, not shooting from far away with a 300mm lens, which creates the feeling of observing from outside. I usually get better results when I take a couple of steps closer to my subject—so I’m the zoom lens myself.

I recommend keeping your eyes open and blending into the crowd. Try to think a couple of seconds ahead: what might happen next? Your camera must always be ready. Always bring spare batteries. But most importantly, wear comfortable shoes and don’t forget to drink enough water.

What kind of gear do you use for street photography?

I’m not a very technical person. For me, a good photo is made by the idea and the composition—gear is secondary. I shoot with whatever I have at hand: sometimes a DSLR or a compact camera, other times a smartphone or a film camera. I like the slow process of working with film. After spending a couple of decades in digital photography, I’ve now found my way back to analogue photography, and I plan to start working in the darkroom again.

Please choose one of your street photos and tell the story behind it.

I was on my way home from a meeting, waiting for a tram at the Hobujaama stop, when suddenly I saw an elderly lady in a tram on the other side of the road. The sun lit her perfectly. I like these moments when you get a brief glimpse into someone’s life and wonder who they are, where they’re coming from, where they’re going, what they’re thinking. Only after taking the photo did I notice how the other people nearby supported the scene.