“Pay no attention to what the critics say; there has never been a statue erected to a critic.” –Jean Sibelius

The value of critique is never absolute. All critique can be both helpful and damaging, and the balance shifts towards the latter the more experienced and proficient the artist becomes.

Creative people, to the degree that they are committed to their work, start their creative journey by honing their craft until achieving proficiency; they then begin to explore their expressive powers, and technique becomes secondary. Along the path, the value of critique varies in usefulness. The stages of usefulness can be grouped into a number of categories:

Indiscriminate Learning: The formative years (and they are years) are often marked by a great desire to learn. The artist will listen to any feedback and the critics’ feedback is often focused on improvement in technique, pointing out errors and oversights, and suggesting improvement. Artists in this phase have an almost obsessive need to both practice new methods and to please the critics. As their unique voice is still not sufficiently evolved, the new artist will want to try everything, listen to everyone, and build up their creative toolkit.

“Whatever course you decide upon, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong.” –Ralph Waldo Emerson

Considered Learning: Once the new artist has gained a degree of confidence with his or her technique, and as their inner voice begins to assert itself more, critique is no longer taken at face value. The artist now has a baseline to refer to and may not always agree with the critics. They may also question the critics, seeking to understand why a certain comment was made before deciding whether or not to accept and incorporate it into their work. Artists in this stage are still largely preoccupied with pleasing the critics and often still shy away from following their intuition.

“Be eager to lend a patient ear to the opinions of others and think long and hard whether whoever finds fault has reason or not to censure you. And if the answer is yes, correct the fault. If no, give the impression that you have not heard him, or if he is a man whom you respect, explain to him why he is mistaken.” –Leonardo da Vinci

Proficiency: This is the point when the artist has achieved sufficient command of their tools and methods. In theory, they can now apply these tools to effectively express their unique creative voice without regard to others’ opinion. In practice, however, they are still beholden to a desire to please and a fear that their original creations may be misunderstood. It is at this point that critique begins to become detrimental to their work as it may steer them away from their own sensibilities and towards the random tastes of others.

“I felt so insufficiently equipped, so unprepared, so weak, and at the same time it seemed to me that my reflections on art were correct. I quarreled with all the world and with myself.” –Edgar Degas

Insecurity: Not having sufficient confidence to pursue their own inner voice, most artists continue to seek validation from others. Rather than do the very thing they became artists for, they instead choose conformity and approval from their peers.  As time goes by and they realize their work consistently fails to represent their own vision, critique only serves to distract and lure them away from their goals.

“The critic has to educate the public; the artist has to educate the critic.” –Oscar Wilde

Self Expression: Having reached a level of maturity and confidence, some artists will ultimately realize that they can only express themselves fully by listening to their inner voice alone and silencing all others. What critics may consider errors or shortcomings no longer imply the artist is doing something wrong but rather that the critic fails to understand their creative choices. Critique becomes more of a nuisance and unlikely to change the way the artist continues to pursue their work.

“In art, rebellion is consummated and perpetuated in the act of real creation, not in criticism or commentary. ” –Albert Camus

~~~

Absent from this model are two powerful influences: social dynamics, and the strength of the artist’s personality. Critique in group settings (especially in online forums) will always be biased based on the social dynamics of the group. Those held in higher regard will, without fail, receive more comments; and these comments will almost always be overwhelmingly positive. Friendships will yield less critical comments, as will fear of retribution. Lack of trust and familiarity with the artist’s motivations and intent will usually result in empty and unhelpful  comments as critics have no real way of knowing how their comments will be taken or whether they are justified. While comments of a technical nature will be useful for those in the Learning phases; once past the point of Proficiency one should not expect much value at all from this form of critique.

“I love criticism just so long as it is unqualified praise.” –Noel Coward

Strength of personality comes into play in the transition from one phase to the next. A confident artist will make the journey in a shorter amount of time; while weaker ones may become “stuck” in one of the early phases and never achieve Self Expression.

Two topics that seem to dominate discussions of critique among group members are honesty and volume of comments. Let me address the latter first. More prominent and experienced members of the group will always receive more comments. These comments will almost always be non-critical. While a source of much frustration to other members of the group, this is not only to be expected but also entirely justified. This is not because these members are necessarily elevated individuals but because their experience makes their choices more deliberate. For example, a visible color cast may indicate an oversight or mistake in an image posted by a beginner, and warrant critique; but when the image is by someone who is known to be competent, one has to assume that the same color cast was in fact a deliberate and considered choice and that the artist knew exactly what they were doing. At that point the cast can no longer be treated as a flaw but rather as a choice, and a critic is no longer in position to suggest improvement, only to express whether they personally like the choice or not. As human nature goes, most would rather say something nice or nothing at all.

Honesty in critique is not a simple topic. As mentioned above, one can never truly expect complete honesty in a group environment. The critic will always be affected by their knowledge of the group’s dynamics, whether they are aware of it or not. Some groups may reward critical comments; others may punish them. Still, the usefulness of a critique often has little to do with how honest it is. A comment such as “this is a terrible image” or “this is a beautiful composition” may be completely honest but every bit as useless. The beginner will not know what they did (right or wrong) to earn it, while the seasoned artist will, at best, be offended or complimented. On the other hand, a comment such as “beautiful image, though I find it a bit over-saturated” may be completely disingenuous yet still provide the artist with useful information to consider.

Useful critique must be more than just honest. It must take into account both the critic’s sensibilities and the artist’s maturity and intent. Without knowledge of the critic’s personal preferences, and whether the artist is experimenting, learning, or making deliberate creative choices, no value judgment can be made.

Most mature and accomplished artists who embraced their own creativity no longer have much use for critique. From that point on, the critic is but a voice representing the tastes of others, who may or may not understand the work, and whose opinion is not likely to make an impact on the artist’s direction. The exception, perhaps, is when the artist considers the critic a better artist than they are.

 ”It is a shame to see in the work of an artist the limitations of his critics.” –Robert Brault

Then:

Now:

~~~

Cameras built into smart phones and other gadgets are nothing new, but leave it to the iPhone to inspire a new trend: iphoneography. Strange. Over the years I have used a wide variety of cameras. My current one happens to be a Canon 5D Mark II. Still, it never occurred to me to think of myself as a “fivedographer” or a “fivedeemarktwographer,” nor that my images may in some way be of elevated importance by the mere virtue of the device that happens to have capture them.

Still, the masses will not be denied and, where there’s the potential for fifteen minutes of fame, the self-appointed experts are already battling for name recognition, weaving the new buzzwords into posts and tweets at ever increasing volumes, and vying for the coveted lead position in the exciting new field of just-like-photography-except-the-camera-is-flat-and-slippery-and-can-call-grandma.

But seriously…

As the old adage goes: the best camera is the one you have with you. And, if the one built into your phone happens to be it – use it, but keep your priorities straight. Let the image be about the image, not about the camera.

With photography already struggling mightily to gain acceptance as a worthy medium for the creation of art, what’s a critic to think? Fine art photography – there’s an app for that?! Actually, there isn’t, and there cannot be. Art comes from artists. If you are not one, no app that ever was or ever will be will conjure up art on your behalf (honestly, have we become so creatively numb that we are ready to delegate even our art to machines?) Gimmicks? certainly! Interesting special effects? absolutely! But, just like preventing forest fires, only YOU can create art. There’s no app for THAT!

Creating art is not the same as turning on a dishwasher or microwaving a frozen dinner. Art is about meaning; about expression; about concepts conceived of the complex contemplations of the human mind; about emotion and skill and experiences and interpretation and desire; about joy and agony and challenge and riddle. Art is about many things. Art should say something; maybe something literal or obscure; maybe something subtle or obvious; maybe something abstract or symbolic, simple or complex. Art for the ages should not, however, say: “I pushed this button, oh and then I pushed that button”.

Photography is among the most technology-driven of pursuits. Technology continuously offers us easier, faster, lighter and more versatile tools. Still, the essential elements that make up a meaningful work have not changed since the inception of art itself. Technology gives us the tools, not the art. Many millions of people have had access to brushes, paint and canvases, yet only one printed The Great Wave of Kanagawa; only one created The Last Supper; and only one invented Cubism. Millions more have had access to writing instruments but only one wrote War and Peace; only one penned Leaves of Grass; and only one authored Moby Dick. And, yet more millions have had access to cameras and lenses but only one made Moonrise, Hernandez; only one recognized the haunting look in the eyes of an Afghan girl; and only one saw a rainbow over the Potala palace and started running.

It’s photography… with an iPhone. Get over it. Why be concerned about being labeled an iphoneographer; a DSLRographer or some other gadgetographer? Instead, why not reach for something more lofty and meaningful? Why not strive to be the next one?

Repeat step #5 as necessary.

~~~

In his critique of a recent National Park photography exhibit, Boston Globe Pulitzer Prize-winning critic Mark Feeney decries the absence of human presence in the works presented, suggesting that such deliberate oversight renders the photographer’s interpretation “highly limited, and effectively superficial.”
Such critique is often leveled at photography of natural subjects for obvious reasons. In most places on Earth today, it is all but impossible to escape the presence and effects of human activity. The vast majority of humans may spend an entire lifetime never knowing a silence completely devoid of the incessant cacophony of machines and media; never gazing upon a scene that still looks as it did thousands of years before their time; never venturing outside the range of radio signals and cellular phone coverage; never having to rely on their own faculties to find their way and to ensure their safety. Moreover, most will likely not expect such experiences to even still exist, let alone be found in the midst of a rich, modern and industrialized nation like the United States. And yet, they are still available on the Colorado Plateau.

The age of the Colorado Plateau is still a matter of scientific debate, with the most recent theory placing it at about seventy million years. By comparison, the first humans in the region are estimated to have arrived between ten and fifteen thousand years ago. Western explorers had only discovered the region a few hundred years ago, and the arbitrary constructs of government, states, cities, towns, parks, monuments and wilderness areas still more recent than that. In terms of time alone, it is actually the reign of humans that is but a limited and superficial veneer over a place already rich in history and complexity since long before Homo Sapiens ever set foot on Earth.
Though in many places the impact of human activity is profound and undeniable, the grand story of the Plateau is, by and large, not about the antics of humans. In fact,  attempting to constrain the character of the Plateau to just its human history is akin to trying to determine all that makes up a dog through the stories of ticks, and if the ticks had only just arrived a couple of minutes ago.
Portions of the Plateau were the last places in the contiguous United States to be mapped. Vast tracts of it remain uninhabited by humans, and it is not unlikely that some of its more remote regions have never been visited by a human at any time.
Indeed, one of the most distinguishing and defining characteristics of life on the plateau is the scarcity of humans. It is a place where sensory and cognitive stimulus can still be isolated from the din of our hives, distilled to singular uninterrupted and unimpeded threads, free of distraction and capable of penetrating into emotional and spiritual depths not possible in so many human-made settings.
The lives of humans, while rich in drama and important lessons, are not all that there is. Existence, in any meaningful sense, is far greater than one species well on its way to setting a record for least amount of time spent as a top life form on a small planet in an unremarkable solar system on the outskirts of an unexceptional galaxy in a universe of trillions of other worlds. While such admissions do not pertain solely to the landscape of the Colorado Plateau, they do imply that, as humans, we have the capacity to value knowledge, to transcend instinct and to derive value from things outside of ourselves; things that do not necessarily culminate in material reward; things that we may not have a direct way of measuring, quantifying, pricing or otherwise relating to in tangible, utilitarian terms.
It is in those realms beyond the enterprises of humanity that the greatest rewards and the greatest misperceptions of places like the Colorado Plateau are manifested. To those who can recognize the value of thought for the sake of thought, discovery for the sake of discovery, emotion for the sake of emotion, understanding for the sake of understanding and spirituality for the sake of spirituality, the Plateau in its pristine form is rich in meaning, mystery and knowledge that cannot be accomplished by artificial means nor directly attributed to the presence of human beings.
Those who fail to place proper value on the abstract; on the recognition that there is more to know, more to learn, more to question, more to experience, and more to be rewarded by than the incessant preoccupation with ourselves, our needs and our contrived rituals will similarly fail to appreciate and, ultimately, fail to preserve and protect anything that can otherwise be substituted for material gain.
I am of the school of artists who believe that art should augment and enrich life, rather than merely document and mimic it under arbitrary constraints of time, place, content or the fleeting fashions, sensibilities and beliefs of the time. Art should enlighten, reveal, pose questions and suggest possibilities, explore and ponder and expand perceptions, challenge and tantalize, and vigilantly force audiences to examine and appreciate those things beyond the mere trivial makings of everyday life. Not doing so is akin to denying the very things that make us human: the ability to think, rationalize, abstract and relate; the ability to tackle complexity and infer meaning, the desire to understand and the ability to appreciate beauty.
What little of the Plateau’s human history you will find here is mostly in remnants of cultures long gone, leaving in their wake as much of the mysterious and the spiritual as the land itself. Though relatively little is known of their lives, it is widely assumed that theirs was a society more inclined to seek harmony with the land and more attuned to the spiritual and the emotional. It is not unlikely that their ultimate demise was brought about by those in their midst who did choose to place possession and dominion over the quest for knowledge and a peaceful existence, and who limited their perception of meaning and reward to the glorification of themselves. May we wisen up in time to avoid their fate. May we learn to find joy in things simply being what they are, for their own purpose, in their own right and independent of our presence.

“Great photographers are a combination of wizard and idiot savant. They do what they do without truly understanding how, then make up a lot of convoluted theory to cover up their own ignorance of who and what they really are. Because of the self-doubt that nags photographers, photography’s power as an art goes on being misperceived.” –Owen Edwards

Almost since the first photographic image was made, artists choosing to work in the medium of photography faced an uphill battle for recognition of the legitimacy of their work and its acceptance as a fine art. Photography had been derided as being the product of machines and chemicals rather than the expressive minds of artists, and for offering no more than simple representations of reality, rather than having the freedom to convey nuanced and abstract concepts.

I will spare you the history lesson and evolution of the art through Pictorialism, Group f/64, etc. Just look up the terms for more evidence of the ongoing struggle. Perhaps the strongest articulation of the disconnect can be found in Gore Vidal’s words: “For half a century photography has been the ‘art form’ of the untalented. Obviously some pictures are more satisfactory than others, but where is credit due? To the designer of the camera? To the finger on the button? To the law of averages?”

While such attitudes can be chalked up to misinformation or even elitism on the part of those who practice other forms of art, in reality it is an indication of a profound and, frankly, embarrassing ignorance of the expressive powers of composition, light, color, tone, and creativity, not to mention the effort, time, and skill required to produce an exceptional body of photographic work. To many, there is still no difference between the creation of deliberate and meaningful photographic work vs. making snapshots for the family album.

Perhaps saddest of all is that this profound ignorance is found not only in casual observers but also, and perhaps more so, in photographers! So many are quick to self-impose such lofty titles as “artist,” or “fine-art photographer” without the slightest education in, or understanding of, art. The result of such ignorance is a staggering abundance of cookie-cutter images (same places, same compositions, same processing, etc.), which obscure any hope of identifying the photographer behind them, let alone understanding their intentions, sensibilities, style, motivation, and the emotions they wish to convey.

While the obsessive need to represent objective reality is a boon to some photographic applications (reportage, etc.) it is a complete non-sequitur when it comes to art. To the extent that art relates to reality, it does so in symbolic ways rather than literal ones. The reality of a sandstone wall in a canyon fifty miles from anywhere you’re ever likely to see in person is completely meaningless. The use of its lines, textures, patterns, colors, tones and reflective properties in creating a satisfying visual experience is where photographic art comes in.

At the root of any visual art is a deep understanding of the use of visual elements to evoke emotions and to appeal to elusive perceptions of aesthetics, curiosity, drama, fascination etc. Such an understanding is independent of medium and applies equally to painting, sculpture, cinema, performance, and photography; and yet, so few photographers take the time to fully explore and master it, preferring instead to churn out bumper crops of repetitive renditions and yet-anothers.

When it comes to the artistic value of images and proclamations of self-importance, let me be very blunt: where there is no artist, there is no art. No matter how beautiful or powerful the feats of nature you photograph, if all you do is record them using photographic media without introducing your own sensibilities into the final product, what makes it art?

Your images should provide viewers with an experience they could not have had, and would never have seen or felt, if it were not for your sharing it with them.

Also, by claiming (in one choice of words or another) that your role in your work is limited to transporting your gear and accomplishing a successful exposure, you are further thickening the shroud of ignorance surrounding photography as a form of visual art and providing fodder for those who see it as a simple, easy, and technology-driven pursuit not truly worthy of the reverence reserved to, say, masterful paintings.

More perplexing are the diatribes on technique and “hero stories” so popular with the genre of nature photography. To be blunt yet again, nobody cares how far you hiked, how much your backpack weighed or the effects of giardiasis you suffered from drinking untreated swamp water. Seeing you hanging from a cliff and reading about the hurdles you encountered may get you a high-five from your friends but will do nothing to your credibility as an artist.

Great images should stand on their own and rely on emotion and mystery contained within the frame rather than tools, processes, or bravado. The mere knowledge of the mechanics behind them, not to mention a state of mind different from the emotion conveyed in the image, can be very detrimental to the image as a singular independent creation and experience.

“Photography would have been settled a fine art long ago if we had not, in more ways than one, gone so much into detail. We have always been too proud of the detail of our work and the ordinary detail of our processes.” –Henry Peach Robinson

If you truly do intend on expressing yourself creatively and artistically through your photographic images, take a break from the incessant rush to produce large volumes of repetitive work, no matter how beautiful or impressive. Take the time to gain an understanding of Art: what it is, what it stands for and what it aims to achieve and contribute to the human experience. Invest in becoming an artist first, independent of tools. Learn to see and interpret and apply your own voice in your work.

If you want to see creative photography assume its rightful place in the pantheon of fine arts, don’t be an idiot… not even an idiot savant.

~~~

My work, including this blog, is dependent on income from photography and writing. If you enjoyed the content on this page, please consider purchasing one of my eBooks or prints, or making a small donation using the link on the right.

Guy

“I think it is high time for some serious investigations be made into imagery. The extremes seems to be the external world, filtered through creative response; and the internal world expressed through highly subjective and “private” modes. I freely admit a lot of “put-on” in both categories; not intentionally insincere but (perhaps unconsciously) in line with the fashonable (sic) directions of the period.”

Who among us can say we have not, on occasion, made images or pursued styles for no other reason than their being fashionable? Off the top of my head I can think of such things as heavy saturation, burned edges, cotton-candy water abstracts, the Orton effect,  random artifacts from using Holga cameras or Lensbaby attachments, intentional blurring from moving the camera during exposure, extreme tone-mapped HDR and other software creations, etc. In each case, pioneering and genuinely-creative individuals defined the niche, and the masses followed.

Like other fashions, some endure and others are relegated to the “what were we thinking?” category some years later. Who’s to say that the tone-mapped creations of today will not be the bell-bottom jeans of tomorrow?

Certainly such fashions come with a big “fun factor”, and sometimes a popular following, but any of us concerned with the artistic value of our work should be cautious to distinguish the fleeting from the the timeless, the original from the “me too”, and the creative from the gimmicky. No prescription, gadget, or automated software will make you an artist; only your own original vision, sensibilities, creativity, and interpretive powers will.

Those who will be remembered and their work revered and stand the test of time are not the copycats; they are the original thinkers and creators who are not afraid to stick to the calling of their own inner voice despite the fashion of their time. Therefore, do not feel compelled to adopt the latest-and-greatest and, instead, proceed steadfastly in following your own compass and charting your own path, whether fashionable at any one moment or not. If you wish for your work to be considered exceptional, it must first be an exception.

I will leave you with the exceptional thoughts of an exceptional person that, at least for me, have endured as honest and true since the day they were written, free of embellishment, gimmicks, and “put-on”:

“It is easy in the world to live after the world’s opinion, it is easy in solitude to live after your own; but the great man is he who, in the midst of the world, keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude.”

–Ralph Waldo Emerson

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The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. –Albert Einstein

Every so often, I am contacted by fellow photographers asking for directions to specific places, sometimes explicitly asking about the location of one of my images. Some inquire subtly, while others ask for anything from GPS coordinates to detailed information about focal length and time of day required to replicate my work with their own cameras. In the past, I answered such questions with a polite message explaining my stand on originality and encouraging the sender to think creatively and to pursue their own original work. More recently, as these questions became more frequent, I decided to ignore them. Admittedly, I never felt quite comfortable with either approach, knowing that the person on the other end will take some offense to my refusal to divulge such information. I decided, instead, to explain my position in this essay and offer it as a response to future requests.

Let me first say that I do not fault anyone for asking. Whether I like it or not, it appears to be the norm among many photographers to pursue a checklist of other people’s images they found appealing and wish to copy. It is, in many ways, a great compliment to the creator of the original image, assuming they are given proper credit. To me, however, the norm is a result of long standing complacency, implicit (if unintended) disrespect to the original photographer, and a general misunderstanding of the value of expressive photography. Though widely accepted, this mentality will not meet the tests of morality — or even legality — applicable to other forms of creative art, and it needs to change.

In most other creative pursuits, similar behavior will be met with much stronger language – from plagiarism to theft. When you think about it, it is no different from asking a chef for the recipe and instructions needed to duplicate their prize dishes, or asking a painter for the exact color mixes and paint-by-number cheat sheet so you could make an exact copy of their work, or the source code for a commercial software package so that it can be compiled by someone else without paying for a license, and with just a small stretch you could think of asking the US Mint for copies of the plates needed to make precise copies of $20 bills. In other words, the very question implies that the thing being copied has no value or association with its creator.

Worse yet, when such copies are made with a camera, the photographer assumes the right to claim ownership to the captured image, even if an explicit and intentional copy of someone else’s creative efforts. While copyright and intellectual property laws restrict such copying in many areas; when it comes to photographing natural elements it is hard to claim ownership of a publicly available view. Certainly one should not expect any claims of originality for images made in well known and easily accessible places. Still, when it comes to intimate, interpretive images and for such things as unique composition, processing decisions, and other subjective aspects, the ownership and credit for the work should remain with the original photographer and be respected equally.

Certainly there is room for mimicry in the process of learning. Copying the work and techniques of others for the sake of learning and developing your own is widely accepted as fair use, as it should. Still, skill and technique can be learned in a variety of locations and do not require precise direction to a remote and little-known place. And, they most certainly do not justify claiming original ownership of a copied work. Can a classical pianist claim to own the rights to a Chopin concerto just because they happen to play it on their own instrument (no matter how skillfully)? Can a painter claim to be the original creator of a work that is identical to Botticelli’s Venus just because they rendered it with their own brushes and on their own canvas?

But perhaps most important of all is the value of such copies to the photographer and to society. By venturing out to make copies of other people’s work, you deny yourself and your audience the expression of your own voice. Once you have acquired the skill to operate a camera and create images, you will actually stunt your own creative growth by not pursuing your own subjects and developing your own style and technique. More than anything, you are denying yourself the experience of discovery, which is far greater than any joy you may derive from making yet another replica.

Whether you acknowledge it or not, by seeking to create original work you will become a better artist and a better person. You will experience more and learn more and contribute more to your audience. When setting out to explore new places and techniques you stand to unravel mysteries, to educate, to inspire, to make a name for yourself, and to learn answers to questions you did not even know to ask.

Make copies as you need in order to learn and improve your technique, but don’t fool yourself into believing they are your original work. Once you have mastered the use of your equipment and acquired the right tools, the only way to grow is to venture beyond gear, beyond making copies, and beyond relying on the vision of others. At this point, it is time to leave the nest, to experience the world for yourself, and to interpret it according to your own sensibilities and creative powers. Let others earn their rightful dues from their own creative efforts and set out to earn your own.

A masterpiece of your own creation is the most rewarding, meaningful, and beautiful thing you will achieve as an artist. Do not deny yourself this profound and well-earned feeling by being lured into the ease, comfort, and predictable hollow praise that come from repeating other people’s successes.

That the greatest conquest is the conquest of fear.

That the greatest courage is the courage to start over.

That the greatest virtue is to care deeply.

That the greatest ignorance is ignorance of beauty.

That the greatest sin is indifference.

That the greatest reward for a life well lived is the knowledge that it meant something.

~

Time for a nocturnal drive. There’s got to be something out there.

“When I have a terrible need of – shall I say the word – religion, then I go out and paint the stars.” –Vincent Van Gogh