“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

In the next few weeks, I will provide excerpts and teasers (all subject to minor changes before the final version), starting today with the Introduction.

My hope is not only to generate interest but also to solicit feedback that may help guide my writing as I fill in the remaining chapters. So, any thoughts you’d like to share will be greatly appreciated.

~~~

To some, the processing of digital images is a daunting topic. A common perception among some photographers is that creative expression ends with the click of the shutter, and that time spent behind the computer screen is a necessary evil, involving the tedious application of prescribed adjustments in robotic succession to achieve such trivial goals as more vibrant colors, or gimmicky visual effects. Nothing could be farther from the truth!

Certainly, digital image processing can be confined to such limited boundaries, and much of it can be automated when the intent is to simply create a usable image for a variety of purposes. In my classes, however, I refer to such simplistic processing goals as the “microwave approach”: in goes a container of food, pre-mixed and flavored to meet a researched lowest common denominator, and out comes an edible, albeit fairly generic meal. Though it may satisfy your hunger, the dining experience is not likely to be a memorable one.

By comparison, a creative cook revels in hand-selecting ingredients, adjusting their amounts, optimizing cooking time and temperature, varying the recipe a little each time as their skills and tastes evolve, experimenting, arranging the final presentation to add visual appeal, perhaps also matching it with a fine wine, and ultimately creating a holistic dining experience that is far more satisfying to both the cook and their guests.

Similarly, creative processing is about more than just applying a generic recipe to the captured image, aiming for “acceptable” or “usable” results. The digital studio at your fingertips is every bit the fertile bed for creative expression as any field technique, and allows complete control over how the raw data recorded by your camera will ultimately appear in the final image. Moreover, it provides the tools necessary to craft the image into a creation that is uniquely yours and representative of your own sensibilities, making you an active participant in shaping its appearance rather than a mere operator of camera controls.

In my Creative Landscape Photography class (and my book of the same title,) I discuss the importance of Visualization, defined as the ability to see in the proverbial “mind’s eye” the finished image early on in the creative process and before making an actual exposure. Once conceived, the visualized image serves to guide subsequent technical and creative decisions, both in the field and in the studio. Each decision becomes another small step towards closing the gap between where the image is at a given point and the visualized end result.

In the processing phase, we have already found a worthy subject to photograph, determined the most favorable composition, and used our photographic equipment to record its visual qualities. At this point we have all the raw ingredients. Now is the time to take them into the proverbial kitchen and use them to cook a visual feast. This is not the time to cut corners or to shove everything into a microwave oven, hoping that one of its automated settings will magically transform the mix into a gourmet meal.

It should be acknowledged that some photographers’ primary motivation is the technical practice of their craft. They become enamored with their gear, with the thrill of the hunt for interesting subjects, and with quantifiable measurements of “image quality” rather than such subjective aspects as emotional appeal or artistic expression. Creative photographers, on the other hand, while still relying on these same technical skills, are generally more concerned with personal expression and with evoking a response from their viewers. The goal of creative photography goes beyond producing images that are technically good or that adequately reflect the subject as-seen, but rather ones that uniquely represent the photographer’s vision and that possess meanings beyond their literal visual elements. This small shift in priorities can have profound implications when it comes to making processing decisions. Consider carefully where your own sensibilities fall between the two extremes before setting out to process your work.

The digital studio offers boundless opportunity for creative expression, for experimentation, and for infusing your work with your own style and vision. Seen in this light, it is much more than just a set of tools for adjusting or correcting pixels. Rather, it is the place where your thoughts and ideas take shape and manifest themselves visually in your creations. Understanding its capabilities will also inform your decisions in the field, allowing you to visualize more effectively as you factor in more of what you know is possible.

Worth mentioning is the fact that your images will be processed whether you choose to do it yourself or not. There is simply no way to make the transition from discrete light measurements taken by a digital sensor to a visible image without some degree of subjective decision-making. Your camera can process your images for you (which it will do if you work in JPEG mode) based on mathematical calculations programmed into it by software engineers with the aim of satisfying most people’s expectations but, obviously, with no consideration to your creative ideas. Working in RAW is also no guarantee of creativity. Your RAW conversion software can make decisions on your behalf just as well if you choose to accept its default settings. And, any number of other tools, scripts, and actions can be used to add interesting effects at the click of a mouse – effects representing the creative efforts of other people. By delegating these tasks to the camera or to automated software, you are taking yourself out of the driver’s seat and allowing a computer to make decisions on your behalf. Computers may be accurate and their software may be designed to produce appealing results, but creative they are not, and even if they were, it will not be your creativity that comes into play. Creative processing is about taking control and putting the power to guide the image towards your visualized end result in your hands.

In this class we will cover both technical and creative aspects of digital image processing, though this book is not meant to be a comprehensive reference for every function in your imaging software. Instead, we will work on understanding essential concepts of digital imaging and how they can be applied to make the transition from raw data recorded by the camera to an expression of your own creative vision, making your work more than just a collection of images but, rather, your art.

“Reality offers us such wealth that we must cut some of it out on the spot, simplify. The question is, do we always cut out what we should?” –Henri Cartier-Bresson

Discussions of photographic composition almost invariably preach for simplification. Elements in the frame that do not directly contribute to the aesthetic appeal of an image are rarely benign and will generally detract from it. While it is easy to see how such wisdom applies to the exclusion of such things as rogue tree branches or discarded beer cans, it may not be so obvious when it comes to visual properties pertaining to the experience and mood you wish to convey.

I’m sure many can recall images that inspired in them such feelings as awe, solitude, silence, cold, or any number of other impressions generally associated with senses other than sight. The ability to inspire such emotional or even tactile sensations through the use of visual elements is the proverbial “secret sauce” that often differentiates a good image from a great one. And yet, many photographers unwittingly exclude important visual information from their images that could otherwise be used to communicate with the viewer beyond the mere portrayal of objects.

One example is the effect of color temperature (or white balance). Variations in color temperatures can be very effective in conveying the sense of actual temperature. Shifted towards the blue end of the scale, even slightly, it can imbue a scene with such things as chill, purity, or even sadness. Move the slider towards the golden hues and the opposite emotions are triggered: warmth, power, comfort, etc. Our brains often compensate for variations in color temperature, resulting in the perception of color casts. It is important to keep in mind, though, that these casts are part of the objective reality of the scene. Technically speaking, if you set your camera to Auto White Balance (AWB) mode and work in anything other than mid-day light, the images you will capture will not represent the true colors in the scene despite looking realistic. Put another way: neutral is not necessarily the same as natural. By leaving the white balance decision up to the camera’s computer or the RAW converter you may inadvertently sacrifice more than you bargained for. When mood counts, you may want to set your white balance manually for each individual image.

Another important consideration is the proper use of “empty” space. In reality, areas of the image that do not contain objects are not truly empty. In many cases they will contain a subtle pattern or color gradient that can be used to enhance the mood through variation in color, or by creating a sense of scale and/or context for the primary elements. Don’t be too quick to ratchet the frame tightly around your main subject, even if there’s nothing immediately obvious around it. Sometimes a little “breathing room” can greatly enhance the viewer’s impression.

There are many other ways to capture mood and emotion in your images. Vignettes, creative blurring, local contrast adjustments, and many other tools can be applied to subtle but powerful effect. Unlike painting, for example, where elements are additively rendered onto a blank canvas, photography is inherently a subtractive art – we extract something out of a larger context and need to do so with such precision that it can stand on its own. Simplify, distill, subtract, and crop as needed but be cautious not to take away too much. Pay attention not only to obvious distractions but also to subtle variations that can make a profound difference in how your work is ultimately perceived. Make it your goal to communicate more than just the obvious. Images that invoke feelings transcending the mere graphical representation of things will likely leave a more profound and lasting impression with your audience.

And now we can add “no chemicals”, “no incremental costs”,  and “process and print in the comfort of your own home”.

Advancements in photographic technology were always aimed at eliminating distractions, freeing the photographer to focus (no pun intended) on making images rather than tools and processes.

How curious it is that some people can wake up in the morning, adjust the thermostat on the wall, retrieve food from an electric refrigerator, microwave their breakfast, shower using indoor plumbing, hop in a motorized vehicle, ride the elevator to the office, and bring up their electronic mailbox without batting an eye, yet froth at the mouth at the mention of using the same technologies for the simple task of recording images.

How strange to see people using the computer-powered(!) media to accuse computer imaging technology of anything from “cheating” to “the death of God’s light”. How silly will these proclamations seem to someone reading them 130 years from now?

As glass plates were in the early days of film, so is film today (to borrow Kodak’s own perfectly-phrased term) “impedimenta heretofore necessary” but no longer…

Let us now make great images. By any means.

I originally intended to experiment with new mounting and presentation techniques for mural-size prints. To that end, I made a series of 30×40″ prints for my own personal use, with the intent of sending them to a couple of service bureaus for mounting using different methods.

Since I planned to hang the prints on my own walls, I picked a few personal favorites I didn’t yet have on display. It was a mix of 4×5 film scans and digitally-captured images.

In the past, I subscribed to the common wisdom that up to a given print size the difference between digital files and film scans will be a wash but beyond a certain threshold, the large format scans will consistently have the upper hand. I was surprised to find (by my own subjective judgment) that this was not the case and in fact at this size some of the digital files actually produced sharper-looking prints.

This seems to contradict not only common perception but mathematical calculations (which I generally try not to argue with.) The explanation came to me as I was working on the files, preparing them for print. The raw 4×5 scans were indeed significantly larger but as anyone who worked with large scans knows, straight out of the scanner the files looks gritty; and lines, detail, and transitions appear a bit “fuzzy”. In comparison, a good digital capture, albeit containing less pixels, is very clean with clear detail and well-defined lines.

There is a difference between resolution and sharpness, the former being actual measurable detail and the latter being perceived/subjective appearance of detail. Until recently I thought they were well correlated but I’m no longer convinced.

At large print sizes, the digital files lend themselves well to interpolation while retaining the appearance of smooth lines and detail. The film scans, on the other hand, becomes fuzzier and harder to sharpen.

I now believe that rather than a clear threshold, there is an interim area where large format film still has sufficient detail and require little interpolation and can appear sharper than the digital capture but beyond that, where both formats require significant interpolation, the digital capture gives a sharper appearance despite having somewhat less detail.

In the coming few weeks I will ask friends who share my experience with various formats to evaluate these prints and see if they share my subjective impressions.

For now, though, I wouldn’t be too quick to assume that a large format scan will necessarily produce a better print. I will also think twice about the need for higher resolution digital capture (medium format or future camera upgrades).

This is one of the prints in the set. It is cropped from a file captured using a first-generation Canon 5D. To my eye (and surprise) it turned out to be the sharpest-looking print of the batch.