THERE IS A STILLNESS in Sawant’s Street Beggars series that speaks louder than noise — an unflinching gaze not upon spectacle, but upon quiet humanity. These photographs neither ask for pity nor dramatize hardship. Instead, they root themselves in the rich tradition of social-documentary and street photography, channeling a long lineage of visual witnesses who have made the margins of society central to their lens.

In the photographic tradition, Sawant’s work resonates with the early social-documentary efforts of John Thomson, whose 19th‑century portraits of the London poor revealed lives too often ignored. His images echo a belief in the camera’s capacity to reveal dignity through ordinary existence. At the same time, there is a modern street‑photography sensibility here, akin to humanist photographers who sought to capture fleeting urban moments — people going about their lives, not staged or idealized, but authentic.

     Artistically, Sawant approaches his subjects with a restrained intimacy. His portraits of beggars are not sensational or exploitative; rather, they are carefully composed, lit, and framed to emphasize presence over burden. He does not reduce individuals to their poverty, but invites us into their space, their posture, their quiet defiance. The result is a kind of visual empathy — a refusal to anonymize, and a refusal to romanticize.

In terms of contemporary photographic practice, this series stands in a complex ethical terrain. Photographing people in vulnerable conditions raises real questions, especially given debates around representation and consent in street photography. Yet Sawant’s work aligns with a growing strand of socially aware photography — photographers like Jim Mortram, whose Small Town Inertia documents the lives of marginalized people over time with respect and repeated encounters. Wikipedia There is also a resonance with practitioners such as Khalik Allah, who humanizes those on society’s fringes through close, deeply felt portraiture.