Driving Ms. Camera
Art, however you choose to define it, is ultimately a product of the human mind. Photographs, before assuming any other meaning, are essentially products of machines. Natural phenomena are manifestations of forces altogether independent of, and oblivious to, the emotions and meanings ascribed to them by human beings. In order for nature photography to enter the realm of the fine arts, the creative photographer must find a way to relate these three elements to one another in a meaningful way.
It therefore baffles me to encounter statements by self-described artists who proclaim to do nothing beyond capturing the scene in front of them, just as it would have appeared to anyone else who happened to be passing by, and essentially serving as little more than chauffeurs for their cameras rather than taking an active, decisive, role in expressing their own creative interpretation of the subjects photographed. If there is nothing of the artist in the frame, then what makes it art?
There is certainly admirable skill involved in transporting one’s camera to unique locations and times when interesting phenomena unfolds; and successfully recording and sharing such moments. But, no matter how impressive the result, the qualification of “art” requires an extra step: personal interpretation.
A recent survey of photographic outlets reveals that a significant portion of the US nature photographer population was competing for a spot at Yosemite’s Horsetail Falls these past couple of weeks. Apparently another sizable group was lining up to capture similar copies of the Badwater salt flats in Death Valley at dawn. The results are predictably beautiful or, rather, beautiful BUT predictable.
Art is a product of the self. Mobs do not create art. Copies of art are copies, of art.
Certainly all of us photographed familiar places at one time or another, and likely even captured compositions identical to those of other photographers but there’s a distinct line between checking known recognizable locations off a list and creating art.
This is not meant as a judgment against either school. There is certainly great joy to be had in visiting magnificent places, whether they’ve been photographed before or not. But, if my own experience is of any value, such joy pales in comparison to creating something truly and uniquely yours, weaving the experience of your own personal discovery, interpretation, excitement, curiosity, awe, and wonder into something never before seen, if only just a personal variation on a theme.
Explore for yourself, experience for yourself, and share your own creativity. Be more than just a driver for your camera.
Category: Rants and Raves, Thoughts and Musings
Good post Guy. I have been thinking about similar issues, but from the standpoint of the viewer. It’s inescapable that the photographer takes an active role in the photograph, even if they try not to, you simply can’t take a photograph without making some basic choices and as long as you are making choices, you might as well make them good or at least interesting. But from the viewer’s point of view I’m not sure any of that matters. Since at least the 18th century, but probably earlier we have been so caught up in the cult of the personality of the artist that we tend to lose sight of the art. It’s a natural reaction to push against this and tell viewers to forget the artist and learn to see the picture. Personallym I get frustrated when I walk into a gallery and see captions that tell you nothing about the story or the place and instead, like a certain guy from your state, tell you how long they were “waiting for the light” as though we as viewers should care.
Great points, Mark! It is interesting to note that ancient art had no signatures (as far as I know).
And, if I were asked how long I’ve waited for the light on any given image in my portfolio, the answer would be the same: “my whole life up to that point”.
Guy
Great read and some excellent points. Thanks Guy.
This was the entire point of my talk at a local photo club last night titled “Beauty Within”. What is most important in my opinion is having an emotional attachment to your subject, and only then can that be conveyed to a viewer. I’ve rarely been asked by a customer the location of an image as a basis for their decision to make a purchase. More often then not, they don’t even know much about the location. It’s how the image makes them feel that matters most to them.
Great post as usual, and truthful in so many ways – thanks.
Thank you for being a photographer that stops and pauses to think and for relaying your thoughts to us. It’s a refreshing change from the gear-driven nature or minutiae-of-the-craft focus of a lot of photography blogs.
I was there – Horsetail, that is – and I made photographs of the thing. But that was just for a half hour in the evening. The Horsetail photos are, uh, just Horsetail photos – interesting perhaps but not all that satisfying.
My favorite photograph from my most recent visit to The Valley – what I was really there to shoot – wouldn’t even evoke thoughts of that location in most viewers: http://gdanmitchell.com/gallery/d/4011-3/WinterFernYosemiteBW20100214.jpg
Dan
Guy, I wanted to take a second to write and comment on your post before leaving on my trip to–haha–Death Valley tomorrow. This is something that’s been on my mind as well, and although I will continue to shoot the “icons”, I think its really important to turn around, or look over your shoulder, because we might all be surprised at what we see.
Like, Dan above, some of my favorite Yosemite images are things that other people may not necessarily be “wowed” by.
Then, there’s exploring your own places. I think that ultimately gives the greatest satisfaction. Your portfolio is a living testament to that, and as my style crystallizes, I hope mine will as well.
Well, off to DVNP. I hope to share some images of things you haven’t seen before
Cheers,
Greg
PS-I’ve also blogged about this recently, about shooting the Icons, and taking the time to look over your shoulder. Yours is much better said.
The idea of landscape photography as art has been on my mind lately. Like you said, there are those that believe it’s enough to record a moment without imparting some sort of vision beyond the click, and stamping “fine art” somewhere, somehow in relation to the photograph. I’m guilty of this. I think the surge of mobs we’re seeing is due to digital photography being so accessible. It has become an extremely easy hobby for those to pick up that want to express their creative side, which they had not been able to express before. Digital cameras have become so easy to use and the instant feedback is wonderful for improving on the spot. These new creatives have seen what works and try their hand at it, capture/copy something well but done, print up an 8×10 and bring it to the office. Co-workers are impressed because they themselves are not photographers and so they’ve not seen anything like it. The ego is fed and the cycle continues. But, there are still some that wish to move beyond the tripod holes and push their work to new levels. I hope that I am growing into one of these photographers. Even in most original compositions, locations, light, etc. these days there is a level of “safeness” or routine that is common place in landscape/nature photography that is holding the image back from transcending to the the realm of “art”. There is nothing more being said than “hey look at this that I found”. Where are the risk takers, the failures, the ones pushing the boundaries with something meaningful to say? They’re out there and they’re producing amazing work, but they’re not getting much play in the industry media monster because it’s not what sells to the mobs. I don’t know, maybe I’m being too critical of the work out there now, mine included.
Any ways, another very thoughtful/thought inspiring post. I’d love to hear your thoughts, as well as the other commenters’, on this loosely related article about David Burdeny copying Sze Tsung Leong’s work. http://bit.ly/dt5UNY
This reminds me of some thoughts I had last October when I wrote To Pay Tribute or To Strive For Originality and in Feb of 08 in relation to Creative Debt. Beyond finding your own voice as an artist, nature photography offers an added benefit of enjoying your surroundings. The experience of exploring is both an activity accomplished with and without your camera.
One other note I do find that photographers like to embrace both familiar and safe subjects. The familiar is easy to access and reproduce, while the “safe” subject is one that they are most likely to receive praise for. Praise often comes from the familiar and more rarely surfaces when you’re pushing personal or genre boundaries. Seeing that photography is so subjective I think a lot of folks take the route with less confrontation or risk of criticism.
Once again Guy an excellent subject of discussion and one eloquently expressed.
Great post on an interesting topic – I particularly like your metaphor of being the cameras chauffer!
I have written about this topic several times on my blog as well and it’s something I continually struggle with. While I do not worship the “cult of the individual” I do prefer to see the artist in the photograph rather than just the subject being photographed. The latter doesn’t tell me anything I couldn’t learn from seeing that object or place myself. What I’m interested in is how this particular artist has seen and what they want to tell me about it.
I think it is particularly difficult to accomplish this with landscape photography. It is such a mature subject that it is almost impossible to convey something new and personal. And, as someone said above, it is so easy to take a shot that conveys some of the scenic wonder without saying anything more.
In my own work, I have moved more toward “constructed” shots where I am composing the scene and lighting more. Having more control gives me greater freedom to say something more personal.
As always, articulated with such beauty and precision. You already know I agree with you 100%.
- Dan
what Dan said above.