But he also seemed to want to promote the way he took photos to everyone he met. His influence wasn't solely through people looking at his photos but also from him speaking with them.
Finally, someone said it!
All evidence points to the contrary. Cartier-Bresson was no Ansel Adams. If you read the interviews he gave, he clearly got bored, if not annoyed, at answering the same questions over and over again about "the decisive moment". What Cartier-Bresson had to say about himself and about photography actually amounts to very little.
And evidence also points to the fact that Cartier-Bresson was extremely respectful of other photographers' views on photography. Koudelka mentions this, as did others. He had his way of doing things, but never insisted on others doing it the same way. He also mentions this in interviews—he was well aware that his influence was strong and that he had started to be imitated—, and there is no reason to believe he was untruthful about it.
Did he talk about his views on photography with other photographers? Of course! What photographer doesn't? This is what photographers do when they meet each other. But that he may have talked about how he did things in no way means that he was "promoting" his way of doing things. And the extent to which they did talk about photography is impossible to tell. Maybe they talked more about family, about friendship, about traveling, about what was happening in the world, about a good Bordeaux he tasted last week, about Surrealism, or about Buddhism—and when on does read the few interviews he gave, one actually realizes that he did talk about Surrealism and about Buddhism as often, if not more often, then he talked about "the decisive moment" or the "yes, yes, yes".
Even more important than all this, people seem to forget that Cartier-Bresson did not have one way to take photos. We think this because we are always put in front of the same "desive moment" photographs and because we adhere to the Cartier-Bresson myths conveided through the dozen or so quotes he left—as if a few quotes are capable of summerizing the complexity and richness of a person's thought and vision. It's interesting to note that many times when members here have criticized, negatively or positively some Cartier-Bresson photos posted in this and other threads, often what they were actually saying was either "this is not a great photo because it does not conform to my expectation of what a great Cartier-Bresson photograph should look like" or "this is a great photo because I've manage to find in it things that conform to my idea of what a great Cartier-Bresson photo should look like."
During his active years, Cartier-Bresson traveled the world, going to places few photographers could visit, saw things few photographers had the chance to see, and took thousands of negatives. He was first and foremost curious about people, had an uncanny sense of place and context and how people fit in them, but, like all photographers, he experimented and tried different things (the few contact sheets we do have access to show this).
He took a lot of photos, and we tend to forget that most of these photos were done on assignment, and that they weren't meant for books or museum walls, but for magazines.
The extend to which his photographs were seen, and the number of different photographs that were seen, is difficult for us to imaginte today. It's fascinating to think that people who lived in these times and saw Cartier-Bresson photos in magazines had a different and much more extended experience with his photographs—with the wide range of his photography—then we do. Their expectations were different: when they looked at the photos from the USSR, they did not expect to see "Cartier-Bresson yes yes yes decisive moment formally perfect" photographs, they expected to see photographs about how people lived in the USSR. Same with the Gandhi funeral: they expected to see what happened that day. Because there was no other way back then of knowing what happened "that day", of knowing how people lived over there. Telling that was also the function of photographs, and Cartier-Bresson knew that very well. That's why he took the picture, and that's why he took it the way it had to be taken, not necessarily "his and the only way" a picture should be taken.
Did he end up with some he prefered because they better fitted with the formal artistic patterns he inherited from painting? Of course. We all have photos we prefer, and these are the ones we would publish or hang on museum wall (if we could do so). That doesn't mean we would disown or disavow all the others.
All this long-winded post (sorry, either too much coffee or not enough, not quite sure) to say we actually know very little about Cartier-Bresson, beyond a few haiku-like quotations that seem intended more to make us look intelligent than to actually say something about his person, about half a dozen easily debunkable myths (no, he did not only use a 50mm lens), and the same few "iconic" photos published book after book. I've mentioned this before: it's absolutely unfathomable to realize that no serious, critical biography has been written about a man who, alongside the likes of Atget, Walker Evans, Ansel Adams, Robert Frank and maybe a couple more, has so profoundly impacted the trade, art and craft of photography. Amazing to think that there are more books written about Vivian Maier's life than there are about Cartier-Bresson.
Most of it is of his own doing. He himself was a haiku. He did not like to talk about himself—a far cry from self-promotion. I do suspect he liked the myths. It allowed him to be discreet. Like a Leica.
