Posted by Kent Mearig on August 19, 2009 at 12:42 PM
In my most recent post, here, I shared my desire for more from my photography in an ambiguous sense. I received a little bit of feedback on what I wrote (most contrary to my own opinions), so I wanted to pose some questions here. Is your goal to express the connection between yourself and the natural world? Is your goal something different than that? Maybe you attempt to disassociate your "self" from the photographic process, or maybe you try to draw connections between the landscape and something external. If you feel like what you're trying to do is more difficult for you than expressing your own connection through a photo, what steps do you take to accomplish this? Is there any point in trying harder, or will we just get in our own way?
I'll expand on my thoughts if/as this thread continues. I appreciate anyone's willingness to respond since I've actually wanted to pose these questions for a long time. And I'm sorry if I can't respond to ideas promptly because of a busy week at work.
This is an interesting question, and some good points were already brought up in your image post. In fact, in typing this up I've realized a few things myself, so even if these thoughts aren't useful for anyone else, they were useful for me...
Personally, when I'm out shooting, my first and foremost goal is to create images with interesting (beautiful, or literally, interesting) aesthetic looks. As you know, I love incorporating an overall 'abstracty' or graphic/elegant quality to the overall composition. So far, keeping that as my primary goal has given me plenty to think about in addition to (I believe) helping me start to define a personal style. But, one of my favorite things to do, is to spend a significant amount of time thinking about and pre-visualizing an image to the largest extent that I can, and this often leads to me incorporating deeper meanings in those images. Usually these deeper meanings have nothing to do with my personal connection to nature, but rather connections (aesthetic, cosmic, or otherwise) within nature itself. For example, every single one of my night images was taken with a direct and deeper meaning preconceived before I took the image, often times weeks or months in advance. I have three such images planned for next year (yes, one will happen a full year from now)... with titles more or less already picked out, and deeper meanings about nature (by nature I mean nature, but also the greater cosmos and meaning of life) thought out.
But, I also take a lot of images without the preconception, and I think those images are the ones with more personal connection to nature - they are raw, from the heart, authentic, and very 'real'. An example would be an image I took of dune in death valley in roaring wind and rain - emotionally it's very powerful IMO, and really connects the viewer with nature on a primal level. I was experiencing the moment, set up my tripod without much thought beyond the aesthetic composition, and hit the trigger. On the other hand, some of my preconceived twilight (and other) images are more about philosophical questions - questions about our place in the universe, balance, and interactions in the natural world, etc... but not so much about a personal interaction with nature. They (I hope) still appeal on an emotional level, but a different kind of emotion, not a personal experience per-se.
While I consider both of these approaches forms of art, and each has its merits. The former is a more deliberate kind of art. The latter dabbles into the photojournalism side, but with clear artistic priorities. I think both are important to pursue, and conveniently they work together quite well - for every trip I take, I have at least one image preconceived that I believe will work out (ie. I have a concept for clear skies, and cloudy skies)... but I will also take the time to explore and shoot 'spontaneously' (well, still with a lot of attention to composition, light etc... but without thinking about the deeper meaning). One thing that I've noticed is that for nearly all of my most successful images I was able to come up with a title either before taking the image, or in the process of photographing out in the field... not while scratching my head at home staring at the blank title section of a post. Having realized this, when out in the field I sometimes try to think of the title while shooting, and sometimes it helps me focus my image on the aspects that I wish to emphasize. But if that seems to get in the way, then I abandon the thought and just go with the flow, as Tony said. First and foremost should be a natural flow to the process and your enjoyment thereof - forced and coerced art is no good.
In the end, I think it's important to try and practice a variety of approaches to photography. I'm sure that with experience we all change and evolve our interests and approaches. With practice, I imagine that we can more and more blend the approach of preconception and spontaneity. Perhaps those with more years of experience than me can provide some insight here. For now, at least for me, using both approaches has proven very valuable in expanding and diversifying my art.
I hope that was useful.
Posted by Jim DeWitt on August 19, 2009 at 4:05 PM
My goal is simple to describe: to photograph nature in a way that helps/encourages people to connect to nature. In the process of achieving that goal, sure, I get to spend time in nature, doing the photography, but I'd be out there anyway, without the camera, absent the goal.
Adams' world-famous photos of the north face of Denali are beautiful, but they also encourage people to visit Denali and see if for themselves. A handful of those visitors may even be inspired to get more than 100 meters from their tour bus.[1] And some of that handful may even decide nature matters enough that some of it should be preserved. It's a mix of educating, inspiring and challenging your viewers. I'm not very good at it.[2] But it's my goal.
Notes:
[1] Denali National Park staff estimates that fewer than 5% of its visitors get 100 meters from the park road during the course of their visit.
[2] I was showing brown bear photos from McNeil River one time and a member of my audience became so scared by the close-up bear photos she had to leave the room.
Is your goal to express the connection between yourself and the natural world?
No, it's to express the connection between the natural world and me. Your phrasing puts you at the center of the universe--mine acknowleges that im just a speck of dust to the universe's eye.
Posted by Kent Staubus on August 19, 2009 at 10:45 PM
My own photography is my main outlet for creative expression. I'm not really trying to impart some sort of "message", most of the time. Probably my main "theme" is taking photos of what I call the "beauty of the every day," photos of things people walk by a hundred times but never really "see." Another driver behind my photography is the pure challenge of making difficult shots. I've been working on one this summer where I take a photo of a moving train as it rolls past a night time baseball game in a small town. The field is lit by big lights, to which I add another big monolight. I have two more flash along the tracks to light the train. The flash are all gelled CTO and have radio triggers. This is proving to be very difficult, but I will nail it yet.
I don't set out with the goal of expressing the connection I feel with nature, though I believe it does happen as a by-product of the process. Instead, photography is how I most closely and intimately connect with nature. The time spent getting to and scouting the location, setting up the equipment, composing the scene or animal in the viewfinder - this is all time where I become more intimate with the natural world. The photograph itself is a reminder of the entire experience. As I become more serious about photography, I find that my experiences in nature and the places I travel are more meaningful to me.
Before I was serious about photography, I had never hiked in the thigh-deep waters of Zion Canyon. I hadn't watched a coyote hunt for rodents in an open field for hours on end. I hadn't left camp at 3 am to catch the sunrise from the top of a mountain pass. These are some intimate moments that I've experienced in nature, all as a direct result of photography.
I'm just an amateur and photography is strictly a pursuit of pleasure. I think my motivation and goals would be very different if I derived or relied on any income from this. I'm not saying that my passion is any more pure or anything like that - believe me, I would love it if customers were banging down by door for prints (they are not).
I'll admit that when I am out shooting, I do put pressure on myself to "get the shot". This is the purely egotistical component that motivates me - the desire to make beautiful images. I feel like photography is an art form, not that different than painting or sculpture, and one of my goals, surely, is to make fine art. Like Kent, photography is my main outlet for creative expression.
Posted by Kent Mearig on August 20, 2009 at 3:24 AM
Thanks for lending your time to this discussion everyone. I think there are some valuable ideas being shared here.
Stan - I have no intention to imply that I am the "center of the universe", but I have glanced in every direction, and I didn't see the edge anywhere . Rather, I'm implying that the universe and I coexist for the time being, and I am the one that recognizes the connection between us...or doesn't. Additionally, when I refer to a connection with the "natural world", I'm talking about a specific, relatively finite aspect of the natural world with respect to any particular photograph. If you are regularly conscious of the universe as a whole during your image record process (which I know is not what you said, but it could be inferred in a stretch), then I would submit that your efforts are beyond that of most photographers.
Kent S. - You said that you probably have a main theme, and I'm taking that to mean that when something comes along that you're attracted to, you're not going to pass it by just because it doesn't meet certain criteria. Has photographing the hidden beauty of everyday always just naturally happened for you? Not that you don't have to be careful and thorough in your execution, but have those things always stood out to you as you walk along? Alternatively, is magic among the ordinary something you remind yourself to keep an eye out for on your way out the door?
The underlying question I'm getting at is whether photographers think personal vision is something that is discovered and uncovered through experience, or it's something that can be built and molded deliberately. Is landscape (or other nature) photography at it's best in the form of an instinctual, uninhibited, gut-level reaction/response? From my original statements, it sounds like what I want is to inhibit my photographic response to the world so that it also reflects decisions I've made about what things are important, good, or true; and actually I guess that's true.
Floris - As soon as you bring it up, I tend to agree that there must be a place for both instinctual reaction and contemplative reaction. The latter takes more effort almost by definition (although certainly not more skill or self-awareness), but I also wonder whether it might gradually effect the former. Planning to see things under a certain mindset time and time again might lead to that being the way you automatically perceive the world.
I also love your idea of coming up with titles for photographs while still in the field. I have never ever done that, and I think it would be a great way to get my head into the space of knowing what I want to say through a specific photograph before tripping the shutter or at least before leaving a location. Thanks for that.
Jason - I'm just as "just an amateur" as you, but I can't call photography a strictly pleasure pursuit because I couldn't then justify spending such a large percentage of my family's income in photography related endeavors . I think I'm somewhere between you and Jim when it comes to what photography gets me doing. I would be experiencing a lot of what the world around me offers (summits, Zion, etc.), but photography still lights a fire under me and gets me off the couch on a regular basis.
Why the need to analyze the whys... just enjoy! The camera is my tool to stop a moment in time and the print is the end result that allows me to share the experience. Sharing serves to make others to take off their blinders and begin appreciating nature. So I guess my goal is to help others to "see" their world.
On a personal level, photography gives me a sense of accomplishment while enjoying the beauty of nature and the companionship of fellow photographers. I am rejuvenated and honored by the occasional presence of a bird or wild animal and a magnificent detail of a flower. If I happen to have a camera in hand to capture that moment, all the better. If someone wants to buy the prints, better yet!
Titling photos in the field is close to where I'm at. I always study my own reactions to places or event, then try to capture that in a way that others see the same things. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't but it dramatically affects my exploration of each setting. When shooting for clients, I interview them carefully beforehand and use that info to inform my shooting, basically a variation of the process.
Maybe this will help explain it. I also earn part of my living as a writer, and there's a lesson for me in the differences between writing about something, trying to capture it in an image, or doing both. Without getting into any right brain/left brain juju, the two approaches are almost polar opposites of my internal architecture. I've found there are "writing" days and there are "photo" days reflecting which side of my brain is at work.
I doubt that it will make sense to everyone, but try this exercise sometime:
In addition to titling the scene, try using 25 words or less to describe it, then look again through your viewfinder. Do you see it and shoot it differently than at first viewing?
Posted by Richard Wong on August 20, 2009 at 12:29 PM
My goal is just to have a good time and hopefully come away with something decent.
As I commented on the image and not sure if I responded as if I understood your thoughts correctly I give it another on what I think I want to achieve and how I think I can achieve it. Not sure if I hit any of the points you pointed out in your first mail and in your resonse, blame it to a lack of understanding of english and lack of intellect...
My goal is not to have "me" in the image, or to show my connection with the natural world, but I think at the end of the day this is what happens in one way or another. Having made and image that is "just" beautiful is not enough for me however. At least after having them for a while. I have a lot of images that do not have any obvious composition flaws or bad technicals, but yet they after a while they have no life in them anymore. I try to maximize the images that keep me entertained also after a few months of looking at them. Images that stand the test of time so to speak. When I analyze them I usually find that they radiate and communicate something extra on top of the subject matter and the illustrative. They are suggestive and have meat and depth. I have no clue how this is achievable on purpose and I guess it is impossible to achieve on purpose. And usually those are images that are not possible to do a second time, they have a sense of uniqueness and speciality to them and I think they are a product of ideal conditions when the "stars" are lined up perfectly. A high dose of luck is also involved. I also think for that reason, they cannot be planned or fully conceptionalized before. They rather have to happen. Too much conscious brain-work makes it actually impossible because it changes the way we respond to the visual stimulus from the outside.
But when trying to remember back in what stage I was or what my initial reaction was when I spotted such comp. or managed to get it through iteration then I guess all have in common that there is a very deep and personal reaction - some kind of "click". Something like "yes" that's it. Like a physcially felt confirmation that I found a comp. that works. And I think here the photographer then places himself into his work. It's like a key-lock principle and to me seems to be the way to a personal style. Because every "lock" (=photographer) is different, but if one makes compromise on the key then this might be a key that fits into another lock also...(i. generic comps).
This is click is not something I have very often, and there is a spectrum of intensity of this reaction. And that makes it hard to say "no, don't bother with that comp. it won't hold the test of time" cause in the field I like it and it could be the best I ever done and then after a while I think it's nothing special really... and I may have compromised on the key-lock interaction too much.
But here on the discipline-part I think a photographer can work - not accepting too many images and waiting for that click that is so intense that makes it 200% obvious that an image is worth it.
Dietrich - I must disagree with you. It is quite possible to preconceptualize images with meat and depth. I already stated my personal thoughts, but as I got to thinking, various things came to mind... and before I new it I'd written way more than I intended. For this stream of thoughts I'm going to borrow what seems to be an increasingly popular metaphor (thank you Guy Tal for much of the inspiration that led to these thoughts... this is basically an expansion of his incredibly succinct metaphorical connection between music and photography that he posted on his blog not too long ago).
A sheet of music is completely preconceived and can contain incredible depth and meaning, but it doesn't come alive until it's performed. The performance is strongly dependent on the musician, and will by the very nature of performance be different every time, and be directly influenced by a wide range of variables. Those variables can be both functions of the photographer and the (shooting) environment, as well as time (one's emotional state of mind will change with experiences).
So, yes, I can sit down and write a composition that encompasses deep philosophical questions, emotional depth, and innate beauty, but it won't be a meaningful piece of art until the performance is made. Whether it comes through in an authentic way, or is merely a robotic production, is entirely dependent on the quality of the realization. A great musician, even when playing a completely prescribed score, fuses a lot of their personal style with the written notes through interpretation of the score. With practice, they can turn the song into a work of art every time it's played. Briefly back to photography... that means that with enough practice, a good composer can conceive of a beautiful composition, and either hand it to an accomplished photographer, or do the work themselves, and be pretty sure it will come out as a work of art. There's an opportunity both in the composition as well as the performance to make the piece unique.
Ok, so that was a musical performance, like a classical piece. Now how about some Jazz? With only a little preparation one can set out and improvise a truly touching melody. That will be a piece that is innately unique, and cannot be reproduced. It's a once in a lifetime work of art that completely exposes the inner emotions of the artist to the audience. It can be overlaid on some sort of structure (rhythm and a key), or it can stand completely on its own. Though typically, without some sort of underlying structure, it will be too spontaneous for the audience to grasp. Often the improvised piece will build on a basic preconceived concept or theme, and will gradually explore the space. As a photographer, this is where you venture out into nature with only the most rudimentary idea of what you would like to do, or even none at all. In the process of exploring, you might end up with something truly special. Furthermore, this process of exploration may lead to ideas that eventually turn into written compositions.
A good musician can typically do both, and does, on a regular basis. If you've ever played in a band, or seen a live performance, you might recall that most 'performed' songs have a basic flow, with a few breaks here and there that are left open for improvisation. That's how I structure my trips - I set out with a composition or two in mind, but along the way, I make sure to keep enough time available for some improvisation. Only rarely do I do a "cover", where the piece was composed by another, and I just do the performance.
One key point, which should not be overlooked, is that for a truly spectacular performance, a group of musicians must be completely in tune with one another. In fact, I've been told by a reputable source that a study was once done that showed that when a string quartet that had been playing together for decades was in the groove with their music, even their brainwaves were in tune to a large degree. This is particularly true for improvisation - you need to know what the band is doing so that you can move effortlessly along with it. What does that mean for you, as a nature photographer? It suggests that to get the best out of your performances, you need to be "one" with your "co-artists". I interpret that to mean nature. You can't control the clouds and the light, you can only control the composition that you choose to harmoniously flow with the conditions that are given to you. If you are truly connected with nature, I believe you can improvise a melody to any tune that you find yourself immersed in. To properly play a preconceived composition requires a lot of work finding the right conditions so that the melody you've got picked out flows smoothly with it. With a little bit of improvisational skill you can often correct for minor deviations in your original vision... leading to a higher success rate, and more authentic work than trying to force a composition on conditions that won't accept it.
What continues to amaze me is that so far as I can tell this metaphor holds up even through an in depth analysis! I hope it makes sense, both for non musicians as well as musicians. If I keep thinking this way maybe I'll put down my camera for a while and start playing some more guitar...
On a completely separate note:
I like your description of the key and lock Dietrich - I can really relate to that. It becomes even more clear when I go shooting with a friend. When I see the images they ended up taking, I think, "wow, I totally didn't think of that being worth shooting"... it's not that I overlooked the opportunity (exceptions exist, of course), but rather that that wasn't right key for me.
Hi Floris, thanks for the direct reply. After I have written this, and considered a bit more what I actually wrote I already thought that what I wrote regarding pre-conception is maybe not true. I think I was a bit unclear. I do agree that it is possible to plan and conceptionalize images with depth. I was maybe referring to the experience I had when I went out to capture a certain scene and could not really find one, then forcing a comp. but missing others along the way. Vice versa, I remember times when I am actually finished with a shooting, walking back to the car, or driving home, suddently I see something that stops me. No matter how late I am in my schedule, I simply have to stop and capture.
Thanks for the comment on the key-lock principle...
Ok, maybe tomorrow when im more than half asleep ill grasp your point, Floris, but right now i think i need you to be a bit more explicit with your analogy. From what i gather, at least with your classical example your saying the written music composition is analogous to the preconceived photo. Id argue that the actual physical composing and taking of the photo is the correct analogy--you're organizing the elements (the musical ideas/notes) into a cohesive piece (the score, the photo). Then, the performance is analagous to the processing. So we're one step apart in our analogies. But maybe im reading wrong cause its getting late... Ill come back to this tomorrow
Thanks Stan! That's certainly another way of viewing it..
My thinking was, with composing, often times I'll literally come up with a composition knowing a few of the elements of a place (often because I've been there) long before taking the photo. I could literally make a sketch of some of the ideas I have floating in my head right now, but it's not until I get to composing the image in the field (in the moment) that I get to finally figure out how all the little bits and pieces go together, how the light fits in, etc. So, it's me with my camera playing the lead and the light and scenery as the orchestra, and if I'm lucky, the orchestra plays the music I told it too, otherwise I've got to roll with it. A less extreme example would be finding the composition you very much want to shoot, setting up the camera, and waiting for the music/light to start... if it doesn't go according to plan, you can still force your composed melody over the top of it, but it probably won't feel right.
Processing would fit in along with that as well, as processing is clearly part of the performance in that there's a lot of personal ideas that are involved. I'm kind of leaving out processing in my train of thought as for me, the processing is just a logical extension of the image taking, in general. But for some cases, it certainly is the performance...
Posted by Kent Mearig on August 21, 2009 at 4:08 AM
This network of photographers continues to impress me with collective critical thinking and a true passion for doing the most possible with this artistic medium. This conversation/thread, wherever it's drifting, is inspiring me to do something photographic as soon a possible. I'm more aware of my room to progress as a photographer/artist than I have been in a long time, which is definitely always a good thing. When you feel like you've "arrived", you know something's wrong.
Dietrich - I guess in terms of the key-lock principle (we even coin new cool terms around here) what I would like to know is if you think you can/should change your "lock". If I leave my house pondering "love" because I've been spending a lot of time with my wife and daughter over the summer, does that have an effect, do you think, on what will click with me in the realm of nature? Could I choose on that same day to think about grief (we all come into contact with that emotion in one time or another) instead and be "fit" by an entirely different set of keys? I want to set my own lock. Thanks for your thoughts.
Floris - I haven't always had the easiest time getting situated with the whole music analogy, but your more elaborate and fleshed out version is helping me connect. I agree with Stan that, especially from a traditional standpoint*, it makes sense to think of processing as a performance equivalent. But actually, I want to think of things in the way you outline and let processing be just another step in the presentation process.
* For example, when expert printers have printed the works of master photographers from original transparencies, sometimes posthumously. I'm not just making this up, right?
Hi Kent, thanks for your question – it also stimulates me to think more about it. I do think this lock can change, and I even think we have different locks for different keys, but I rather think consciously not much can be done. What kind of lock I use is rather set by the mood I am in, maybe also by the stimulus one gets by the scene and landscape one is exposed to, but I think that purposely changing the shape of the lock on location is not possible and should not be done. I am contradicting myself now a bit: It can be possible – but that would not be the true inner lock – that would be a compromise – see other post also. A cover-song instead of an own composition. But what can be achieved is maybe being able to access the other in-build locks when wanted (note the difference – shape of lock is not changed, but the type of in build lock in use which is defined by character, personality, and recent mood and experiences (short term and long term) is changed deliberately). If one is aware of all his locks and know how to access them then I think one has reached the next step in his photography. I am not sure if this is possible (meditation?), or if people out there do it, and if if they do it consciously or not.
But at the end of the day this is the reason why experienced photographers have a distinct style - I think. This is also the reason (now this is disappointingly deterministic) why our images always will have a certain look to them and some photographers have locks that let them seek for keys(compositions) that work better for an audience than work of a different photographer who works as hard and has the same technical capability, but his images do not reach so many. Back to the music analogy a bit to exemplify: Why are there musicians out there (rock, pop,classic) who put out melodies or song structures that work for so many. To name a few (just what comes to my mind). Beatles, Stones, ABBA, Metallica, U2, (Mozart, Vivaldi). Are they technically better than many other less good selling acts? Do they work harder (rather yes but I think because they can (drive and motivation – also a kind of lock) and they are pushed more by their success and recognition they get).
I think this is very deterministic view, but a change of the lock is not possible easily, if yes then it takes a long time. All just my thoughts or my way of trying to understand why images of different photographers look like they look.
Thanks for listening..;-)
Posted by Kent Mearig on August 21, 2009 at 12:14 PM
Thanks for the specific response, Dietrich. I think your way of conceptualizing this continues to gain validity as you explore different facets of it. Maybe someday you'll be writing a book called "Photography and Key-Lock Theory". I think the statement that keeps your last thought from being too deterministic is where you say some photographer's "unlocking" photos might "not reach so many." It isn't a judgment of their art as inferior; it's simply an observation that a smaller percentage of potential viewers have a "lock" in common with the artist. But you might also consider that a band like the Beatles does so many things right besides that one "key" ingredient (I'm thinking they have a physical and emotional energy that people universally desire) that they win some/many fans without even having a special connection.
Posted by Stan Rose on August 21, 2009 at 10:32 PM
Well, all those musicians you mentioned (including Metallica, Master of Puppets for example) have come up with strong memorable melodies, and complimentary rhythms/harmonies, analogous to balanced comps with strong and memorable subjects. Not such a bad thing to aspire to
Ok, now humor me ...First ill point out that there are some differences between artists and musicians, for example there are clearly musical prodigies, since from a technical standpoint at least there are some skills that can be developed but never really learned--perfect pitch for example, or the ability to hear and repeat intervals and rhythms, partly a function of memory ability, and also just plain physical technical skills that enable one to play notes cleanly at varying tempos. Mozart is the best known example but obviously there are many many others. I could practice the guitar 12 hours a day and i would never develop the technical skill that some are innately blessed with, nor do i have perfect pitch. Can the same be said of photographers? I dont think so, at least ive never seen anyone portrayed as a child photographer prodigy! Maybe artistic sensibilities in presenting a subject cannot be entirely taught (I read a bit by Adamus arguing that) but for the most part the basics of strong composition can be readily taught and learned, as can post-processing skills. Chosing your subject is another matter--it goes to Dietrich's lock-n-key idea. But, the rudimentary skills are different for the two pursuits. So, im not sure one can carry the analogy too far.
A related issue, is that as artists/musicians/photogrsaphers we all have our strengths and weaknesses , this is as much a part of one's style as the lock-n-key idea. I know from being a musician several times longer than ive been a photographer, is that part if not most of my style is based on developing my strengths, and working around my weaknesses. So, if you can't swim, but are a very good jumper, you get to be very profficient at jumping over rivers to cross them. That is style. In photography, it is the same thing--you keep doing what you like to do over and over again until you excel at it, and find workarounds to avoid what you don't want to do. It is not necessarily a winning strategy to purposely work on your weaknesses--though if you have the stomach for it it might lead you to discover some new ideas.
Posted by Richard Wong on August 25, 2009 at 12:59 AM
Commercial success can also play a part in shaping what we seek out. I know for myself, I got into stock photography four years ago and have gradually figured out what works. So I'll go to a place to shoot the images I want when the conditions are right for them, and use the rest of the time getting the images that pay for the trips.
I guess you can chalk it up to the Master of Puppets pulling my strings. Luckily, I also enjoy a lot of other stuff besides nature so it's not hard for me to switch gears at any given moment.
To use another Metallica analogy, on one of their box set videos they show James Hetfield sitting in on a jam session at a country western / blues joint sort of place. It is so far from what he is known for (aside from Mama Said) professionally but I believe he does like country music during his off-stage time.
What I am getting at is that having a "style" is more for marketing purposes / labeling than actual reality because I think people are generally more eclectic in taste than what they get credit for or willing to acknowledge publicly.
Discussion
19 repliesI'll expand on my thoughts if/as this thread continues. I appreciate anyone's willingness to respond since I've actually wanted to pose these questions for a long time. And I'm sorry if I can't respond to ideas promptly because of a busy week at work.
Personally, when I'm out shooting, my first and foremost goal is to create images with interesting (beautiful, or literally, interesting) aesthetic looks. As you know, I love incorporating an overall 'abstracty' or graphic/elegant quality to the overall composition. So far, keeping that as my primary goal has given me plenty to think about in addition to (I believe) helping me start to define a personal style. But, one of my favorite things to do, is to spend a significant amount of time thinking about and pre-visualizing an image to the largest extent that I can, and this often leads to me incorporating deeper meanings in those images. Usually these deeper meanings have nothing to do with my personal connection to nature, but rather connections (aesthetic, cosmic, or otherwise) within nature itself. For example, every single one of my night images was taken with a direct and deeper meaning preconceived before I took the image, often times weeks or months in advance. I have three such images planned for next year (yes, one will happen a full year from now)... with titles more or less already picked out, and deeper meanings about nature (by nature I mean nature, but also the greater cosmos and meaning of life) thought out.
But, I also take a lot of images without the preconception, and I think those images are the ones with more personal connection to nature - they are raw, from the heart, authentic, and very 'real'. An example would be an image I took of dune in death valley in roaring wind and rain - emotionally it's very powerful IMO, and really connects the viewer with nature on a primal level. I was experiencing the moment, set up my tripod without much thought beyond the aesthetic composition, and hit the trigger. On the other hand, some of my preconceived twilight (and other) images are more about philosophical questions - questions about our place in the universe, balance, and interactions in the natural world, etc... but not so much about a personal interaction with nature. They (I hope) still appeal on an emotional level, but a different kind of emotion, not a personal experience per-se.
While I consider both of these approaches forms of art, and each has its merits. The former is a more deliberate kind of art. The latter dabbles into the photojournalism side, but with clear artistic priorities. I think both are important to pursue, and conveniently they work together quite well - for every trip I take, I have at least one image preconceived that I believe will work out (ie. I have a concept for clear skies, and cloudy skies)... but I will also take the time to explore and shoot 'spontaneously' (well, still with a lot of attention to composition, light etc... but without thinking about the deeper meaning). One thing that I've noticed is that for nearly all of my most successful images I was able to come up with a title either before taking the image, or in the process of photographing out in the field... not while scratching my head at home staring at the blank title section of a post. Having realized this, when out in the field I sometimes try to think of the title while shooting, and sometimes it helps me focus my image on the aspects that I wish to emphasize. But if that seems to get in the way, then I abandon the thought and just go with the flow, as Tony said. First and foremost should be a natural flow to the process and your enjoyment thereof - forced and coerced art is no good.
In the end, I think it's important to try and practice a variety of approaches to photography. I'm sure that with experience we all change and evolve our interests and approaches. With practice, I imagine that we can more and more blend the approach of preconception and spontaneity. Perhaps those with more years of experience than me can provide some insight here. For now, at least for me, using both approaches has proven very valuable in expanding and diversifying my art.
I hope that was useful.
Adams' world-famous photos of the north face of Denali are beautiful, but they also encourage people to visit Denali and see if for themselves. A handful of those visitors may even be inspired to get more than 100 meters from their tour bus.[1] And some of that handful may even decide nature matters enough that some of it should be preserved. It's a mix of educating, inspiring and challenging your viewers. I'm not very good at it.[2] But it's my goal.
Notes:
[1] Denali National Park staff estimates that fewer than 5% of its visitors get 100 meters from the park road during the course of their visit.
[2] I was showing brown bear photos from McNeil River one time and a member of my audience became so scared by the close-up bear photos she had to leave the room.
No, it's to express the connection between the natural world and me. Your phrasing puts you at the center of the universe--mine acknowleges that im just a speck of dust to the universe's eye.
Kent in SD
Before I was serious about photography, I had never hiked in the thigh-deep waters of Zion Canyon. I hadn't watched a coyote hunt for rodents in an open field for hours on end. I hadn't left camp at 3 am to catch the sunrise from the top of a mountain pass. These are some intimate moments that I've experienced in nature, all as a direct result of photography.
I'm just an amateur and photography is strictly a pursuit of pleasure. I think my motivation and goals would be very different if I derived or relied on any income from this. I'm not saying that my passion is any more pure or anything like that - believe me, I would love it if customers were banging down by door for prints (they are not).
I'll admit that when I am out shooting, I do put pressure on myself to "get the shot". This is the purely egotistical component that motivates me - the desire to make beautiful images. I feel like photography is an art form, not that different than painting or sculpture, and one of my goals, surely, is to make fine art. Like Kent, photography is my main outlet for creative expression.
Stan - I have no intention to imply that I am the "center of the universe", but I have glanced in every direction, and I didn't see the edge anywhere
Kent S. - You said that you probably have a main theme, and I'm taking that to mean that when something comes along that you're attracted to, you're not going to pass it by just because it doesn't meet certain criteria. Has photographing the hidden beauty of everyday always just naturally happened for you? Not that you don't have to be careful and thorough in your execution, but have those things always stood out to you as you walk along? Alternatively, is magic among the ordinary something you remind yourself to keep an eye out for on your way out the door?
The underlying question I'm getting at is whether photographers think personal vision is something that is discovered and uncovered through experience, or it's something that can be built and molded deliberately. Is landscape (or other nature) photography at it's best in the form of an instinctual, uninhibited, gut-level reaction/response? From my original statements, it sounds like what I want is to inhibit my photographic response to the world so that it also reflects decisions I've made about what things are important, good, or true; and actually I guess that's true.
Floris - As soon as you bring it up, I tend to agree that there must be a place for both instinctual reaction and contemplative reaction. The latter takes more effort almost by definition (although certainly not more skill or self-awareness), but I also wonder whether it might gradually effect the former. Planning to see things under a certain mindset time and time again might lead to that being the way you automatically perceive the world.
I also love your idea of coming up with titles for photographs while still in the field. I have never ever done that, and I think it would be a great way to get my head into the space of knowing what I want to say through a specific photograph before tripping the shutter or at least before leaving a location. Thanks for that.
Jason - I'm just as "just an amateur" as you, but I can't call photography a strictly pleasure pursuit because I couldn't then justify spending such a large percentage of my family's income in photography related endeavors
On a personal level, photography gives me a sense of accomplishment while enjoying the beauty of nature and the companionship of fellow photographers. I am rejuvenated and honored by the occasional presence of a bird or wild animal and a magnificent detail of a flower. If I happen to have a camera in hand to capture that moment, all the better. If someone wants to buy the prints, better yet!
Damn, now you got me overanlayzing!
Maybe this will help explain it. I also earn part of my living as a writer, and there's a lesson for me in the differences between writing about something, trying to capture it in an image, or doing both. Without getting into any right brain/left brain juju, the two approaches are almost polar opposites of my internal architecture. I've found there are "writing" days and there are "photo" days reflecting which side of my brain is at work.
I doubt that it will make sense to everyone, but try this exercise sometime:
In addition to titling the scene, try using 25 words or less to describe it, then look again through your viewfinder. Do you see it and shoot it differently than at first viewing?
My goal is not to have "me" in the image, or to show my connection with the natural world, but I think at the end of the day this is what happens in one way or another. Having made and image that is "just" beautiful is not enough for me however. At least after having them for a while. I have a lot of images that do not have any obvious composition flaws or bad technicals, but yet they after a while they have no life in them anymore. I try to maximize the images that keep me entertained also after a few months of looking at them. Images that stand the test of time so to speak. When I analyze them I usually find that they radiate and communicate something extra on top of the subject matter and the illustrative. They are suggestive and have meat and depth. I have no clue how this is achievable on purpose and I guess it is impossible to achieve on purpose. And usually those are images that are not possible to do a second time, they have a sense of uniqueness and speciality to them and I think they are a product of ideal conditions when the "stars" are lined up perfectly. A high dose of luck is also involved. I also think for that reason, they cannot be planned or fully conceptionalized before. They rather have to happen. Too much conscious brain-work makes it actually impossible because it changes the way we respond to the visual stimulus from the outside.
But when trying to remember back in what stage I was or what my initial reaction was when I spotted such comp. or managed to get it through iteration then I guess all have in common that there is a very deep and personal reaction - some kind of "click". Something like "yes" that's it. Like a physcially felt confirmation that I found a comp. that works. And I think here the photographer then places himself into his work. It's like a key-lock principle and to me seems to be the way to a personal style. Because every "lock" (=photographer) is different, but if one makes compromise on the key then this might be a key that fits into another lock also...(i. generic comps).
This is click is not something I have very often, and there is a spectrum of intensity of this reaction. And that makes it hard to say "no, don't bother with that comp. it won't hold the test of time" cause in the field I like it and it could be the best I ever done and then after a while I think it's nothing special really... and I may have compromised on the key-lock interaction too much.
But here on the discipline-part I think a photographer can work - not accepting too many images and waiting for that click that is so intense that makes it 200% obvious that an image is worth it.
Hope it makes sense to someone out there...
Regards
Dietrich
A sheet of music is completely preconceived and can contain incredible depth and meaning, but it doesn't come alive until it's performed. The performance is strongly dependent on the musician, and will by the very nature of performance be different every time, and be directly influenced by a wide range of variables. Those variables can be both functions of the photographer and the (shooting) environment, as well as time (one's emotional state of mind will change with experiences).
So, yes, I can sit down and write a composition that encompasses deep philosophical questions, emotional depth, and innate beauty, but it won't be a meaningful piece of art until the performance is made. Whether it comes through in an authentic way, or is merely a robotic production, is entirely dependent on the quality of the realization. A great musician, even when playing a completely prescribed score, fuses a lot of their personal style with the written notes through interpretation of the score. With practice, they can turn the song into a work of art every time it's played. Briefly back to photography... that means that with enough practice, a good composer can conceive of a beautiful composition, and either hand it to an accomplished photographer, or do the work themselves, and be pretty sure it will come out as a work of art. There's an opportunity both in the composition as well as the performance to make the piece unique.
Ok, so that was a musical performance, like a classical piece. Now how about some Jazz? With only a little preparation one can set out and improvise a truly touching melody. That will be a piece that is innately unique, and cannot be reproduced. It's a once in a lifetime work of art that completely exposes the inner emotions of the artist to the audience. It can be overlaid on some sort of structure (rhythm and a key), or it can stand completely on its own. Though typically, without some sort of underlying structure, it will be too spontaneous for the audience to grasp. Often the improvised piece will build on a basic preconceived concept or theme, and will gradually explore the space. As a photographer, this is where you venture out into nature with only the most rudimentary idea of what you would like to do, or even none at all. In the process of exploring, you might end up with something truly special. Furthermore, this process of exploration may lead to ideas that eventually turn into written compositions.
A good musician can typically do both, and does, on a regular basis. If you've ever played in a band, or seen a live performance, you might recall that most 'performed' songs have a basic flow, with a few breaks here and there that are left open for improvisation. That's how I structure my trips - I set out with a composition or two in mind, but along the way, I make sure to keep enough time available for some improvisation. Only rarely do I do a "cover", where the piece was composed by another, and I just do the performance.
One key point, which should not be overlooked, is that for a truly spectacular performance, a group of musicians must be completely in tune with one another. In fact, I've been told by a reputable source that a study was once done that showed that when a string quartet that had been playing together for decades was in the groove with their music, even their brainwaves were in tune to a large degree. This is particularly true for improvisation - you need to know what the band is doing so that you can move effortlessly along with it. What does that mean for you, as a nature photographer? It suggests that to get the best out of your performances, you need to be "one" with your "co-artists". I interpret that to mean nature. You can't control the clouds and the light, you can only control the composition that you choose to harmoniously flow with the conditions that are given to you. If you are truly connected with nature, I believe you can improvise a melody to any tune that you find yourself immersed in. To properly play a preconceived composition requires a lot of work finding the right conditions so that the melody you've got picked out flows smoothly with it. With a little bit of improvisational skill you can often correct for minor deviations in your original vision... leading to a higher success rate, and more authentic work than trying to force a composition on conditions that won't accept it.
What continues to amaze me is that so far as I can tell this metaphor holds up even through an in depth analysis! I hope it makes sense, both for non musicians as well as musicians. If I keep thinking this way maybe I'll put down my camera for a while and start playing some more guitar...
On a completely separate note:
I like your description of the key and lock Dietrich - I can really relate to that. It becomes even more clear when I go shooting with a friend. When I see the images they ended up taking, I think, "wow, I totally didn't think of that being worth shooting"... it's not that I overlooked the opportunity (exceptions exist, of course), but rather that that wasn't right key for me.
Thanks for the comment on the key-lock principle...
Dietrich
My thinking was, with composing, often times I'll literally come up with a composition knowing a few of the elements of a place (often because I've been there) long before taking the photo. I could literally make a sketch of some of the ideas I have floating in my head right now, but it's not until I get to composing the image in the field (in the moment) that I get to finally figure out how all the little bits and pieces go together, how the light fits in, etc. So, it's me with my camera playing the lead and the light and scenery as the orchestra, and if I'm lucky, the orchestra plays the music I told it too, otherwise I've got to roll with it. A less extreme example would be finding the composition you very much want to shoot, setting up the camera, and waiting for the music/light to start... if it doesn't go according to plan, you can still force your composed melody over the top of it, but it probably won't feel right.
Processing would fit in along with that as well, as processing is clearly part of the performance in that there's a lot of personal ideas that are involved. I'm kind of leaving out processing in my train of thought as for me, the processing is just a logical extension of the image taking, in general. But for some cases, it certainly is the performance...
Dietrich - I guess in terms of the key-lock principle (we even coin new cool terms around here) what I would like to know is if you think you can/should change your "lock". If I leave my house pondering "love" because I've been spending a lot of time with my wife and daughter over the summer, does that have an effect, do you think, on what will click with me in the realm of nature? Could I choose on that same day to think about grief (we all come into contact with that emotion in one time or another) instead and be "fit" by an entirely different set of keys? I want to set my own lock. Thanks for your thoughts.
Floris - I haven't always had the easiest time getting situated with the whole music analogy, but your more elaborate and fleshed out version is helping me connect. I agree with Stan that, especially from a traditional standpoint*, it makes sense to think of processing as a performance equivalent. But actually, I want to think of things in the way you outline and let processing be just another step in the presentation process.
* For example, when expert printers have printed the works of master photographers from original transparencies, sometimes posthumously. I'm not just making this up, right?
But at the end of the day this is the reason why experienced photographers have a distinct style - I think. This is also the reason (now this is disappointingly deterministic) why our images always will have a certain look to them and some photographers have locks that let them seek for keys(compositions) that work better for an audience than work of a different photographer who works as hard and has the same technical capability, but his images do not reach so many. Back to the music analogy a bit to exemplify: Why are there musicians out there (rock, pop,classic) who put out melodies or song structures that work for so many. To name a few (just what comes to my mind). Beatles, Stones, ABBA, Metallica, U2, (Mozart, Vivaldi). Are they technically better than many other less good selling acts? Do they work harder (rather yes but I think because they can (drive and motivation – also a kind of lock) and they are pushed more by their success and recognition they get).
I think this is very deterministic view, but a change of the lock is not possible easily, if yes then it takes a long time. All just my thoughts or my way of trying to understand why images of different photographers look like they look.
Thanks for listening..;-)
Ok, now humor me
A related issue, is that as artists/musicians/photogrsaphers we all have our strengths and weaknesses , this is as much a part of one's style as the lock-n-key idea. I know from being a musician several times longer than ive been a photographer, is that part if not most of my style is based on developing my strengths, and working around my weaknesses. So, if you can't swim, but are a very good jumper, you get to be very profficient at jumping over rivers to cross them. That is style. In photography, it is the same thing--you keep doing what you like to do over and over again until you excel at it, and find workarounds to avoid what you don't want to do. It is not necessarily a winning strategy to purposely work on your weaknesses--though if you have the stomach for it it might lead you to discover some new ideas.
I guess you can chalk it up to the Master of Puppets pulling my strings. Luckily, I also enjoy a lot of other stuff besides nature so it's not hard for me to switch gears at any given moment.
To use another Metallica analogy, on one of their box set videos they show James Hetfield sitting in on a jam session at a country western / blues joint sort of place. It is so far from what he is known for (aside from Mama Said) professionally but I believe he does like country music during his off-stage time.
What I am getting at is that having a "style" is more for marketing purposes / labeling than actual reality because I think people are generally more eclectic in taste than what they get credit for or willing to acknowledge publicly.