I'm not sure this the right place to post this, or if there is a reight place to post this at all. But since it does involve NPN, and the future of my involvement in NPN, I thought I should tell you rather than surprise you later by just leaving.
Background on this is my teacher is Willard Clay. I'm lucky to live were I do and to be able to have a teacher like this. I admit that. Background on this is a newsletter he has discussing things are changing in professional photography with the advent of digital technology, I-phones, and "good emough" criteria from the media.
I've been struggling with my own demons lately. So this is a letter I wrote to Willard which has some connections to NPN. I'm not sure I can re-state it any better as it addresses my possible continuing involvement here or not. So I decided to just post it. It's pretty long and I'd suggest that if you have something better to do, do that.
===============================================================
Put off reading the following until you have time; I say that realizing you may never read it, but then I think I'm probably writing it more for me than for you anyway. The subject is photography and my relationship with it over the past few years; probably a topic of little-to-no significance to anyone else, yet one that I think does have some relevance to a teacher such as you because you encounter so many students.
For the past four or five years, I was on some sort of trip with photography that put photography first. There is a whole social reality that supports this view, much of it reflected in the classes in photography presented at The Morton Aboretum, and in the realm of photography as a business. There is the concept of "art" and of how a photographic image should meet a certain set of criteria to qualify as art. Perhaps more generally, there are a set of norms by which photographic images are judged by others who make photographic images according to which the images can be ranked and rated relative to one another with respect to their, shall we say, "artistic merit". (Substitute your own terminology, but you get my point, I'm sure.)
With this preface, what I found happeing to me as a consequence of the degree of engagement I decided to have with social venues like the classes at The Morton Aboretum, the Morton Aboretum Photographic Society (MAPS), and on-line forums such as Nature Photgraphy Network (NPN) was that whatever it was inside of me that was the source of my photography died. When that happened, I had no interest whatsoever in taking pictures. All of a sudden, it was all gone.
In a way, I felt relieved. I realized at that moment; the moment I realized it had died; that I had been despirately grasping for something that was ultimatly and inherently all about grasping. Yet while I was glad that phase was over, I also wondered what would come next. This whole chain of cause-and-effect was transpiring starting in late May, but it had been developing for at least a year prior.
I have what I call an "inner voice" which is probably better described simply as feelings or intuition, and whatever it is suggested that I take a class at The Morton Aboretum in something other than photography, and so, on a whim, I signed up for a class in local flora identification. I am now a little more than half way through that class and have already completed my project.
It was in the process of completing that project that something was revealed to me, and that is the reason I'm writing this. I began using my camera equipment as a tool to take pictures of plants and plant parts that would help me within the context of this course. Having acquired some level of technical ability over the past four or five years, this went quite well, and several images resulted that were asthetically pleasing to me in addition to being of pragmatic value.
These were essentially "snapshots" because the teacher, for very good reason, doesn't want this to be about photography, but rather about plant identification, and so we cannot use tripods, we have to contend with rather stiff breezes, we have to take shots quickly and without moving things around, etc. But, within all of these constraints, I found that one can still try to do ones best and make the best image one can for the sake of illustrating the intended subject. (This reminded me of the discussion of "good enough" versus quality that we have been having).
Many of these images that I took under these circumstances were illustrative of a profound beauty in nature that I had, through this course, just been introduced to. Not that I had not been introduced to it before, but this was the first time I recognized it, and the camera was most certainly a factor in tha recognition. So what I then did was to select the ones I liked the best and post them on the nature photography forum I've been on for the past 9 months; a forum which is, ostensibly, all about nature and nature photography.
The result of this was somewhat unexpected; viz., I began to get critiques based upon the template of normative correspondence to the "art of photography" and somewhat dismissive of my intent; that being of a documentary nature, but one that could be equally profound.
And it was then I knew, for the first time, why I had had the difficulty I did that caused me to stop photography before. It's amazing how human nature can fuck up just about anything. Look what it's done with the religious impulse! You say you're interested in Buddhism; If you really know the Four Noble Truths and the Two Truths, you must see how even that has been corrupted.
So, Willard, I've decided I know enough about how to opperate my camera equipment, and that I have enough of that equipment. I am moving on. I'm now more interested in nature. You know, even Buddhists might entertain the concept of "God" as a metaphor, and we might think of the ultimately illusory things and events we see in nature as "God's Artwork", as a Sufi I once knew described it. So then when we make our artwork as photographers, it would seem we are trying to represent the beauty of that artwork that God has made as best we can. And we realize going in, that we will fall short.
Realizing this, then, it's a matter of degree; how short we will fall, not whether or not we can ever capture perfection -- we know that will never happen. So then I ask myself whether I care whether an image I took may be perceived by someone on NPN as "a bit soft" or not, as long as it conveys the intent. Perhaps they should use their imaginations to sharpen the areas that are lacking and see through to the intended message.
In the past I studied epistemology, philosophy of language, and Wittgenstein, and he, in the Tractatus, drew a connection between language and photography. Changing the focus from the proposition to the photograph, the analogy would be construed, perhaps in terms of the signal-to-noise ratio in the communication of information. If someone says something to you, I think what matters is that you can understand what they mean, not so much the perfection of there articulation of the words. Like that, I'm starting to think about photography.
A couple of years ago now, I was lucky enough to be able to spend three weeks in the Falkland Islands, South Georgia Island and the Antarctic Peninsula. Our group leader, Hannah told us, "Before you take your first photo, look around for a few minutes. Then close your eyes. Listen. Take a deep breath and smell the air. Give yourself a minute to appreciate where you are. What you are sensing. Then start taking photos." Two years later, it's those minutes Hannah told us to appreciate, not the photographs, that have stayed with me. It's the sounds of 125,000 King Penguins on Salisbury Plain, not the images I made.
Second, art to me is communication. Art that doesn't communicate is a kind of intellectual masturbation. What NPN does, better than any venue I've found, is teach me how to make my photographs better, more effective communication. I post photos for comment and criticism because what my colleagues here tell me makes my photos better, and that makes them a more effective communication. A background that doesn't distract is more effective at communicating the subject; an image that is sharp where it needs to be holds the eye longer.
None of this makes your points any less valid; it's just a different view of NPN's role and each photographer's relationship to it.
You go, John. Don’t let technology and details get in your way of experiencing what you seek. Full speed ahead….
Don’t be afraid to drop by from time to time to post up some snapshots of anything special you encounter in your journeys. I promise not to pick apart the details.
I hear you, John. You have the openness and integrity to listen to and act upon your own truth, and ultimately that's the most important thing. You recognize when people aren't respecting that, aren't heeding your intent. Thank you for sharing this. I wish you much success in your endeavors.
Posted by Lorna Taylor on July 31, 2013 at 11:19 AM
Hi John, I completely get were you are coming from as I have struggled with my own photography and the site ,I have stepped away and come back many times. But it is part of the learning curve and my growth in photography. While I have admired and valued your comments there have been times when one of my images have failed to connect and the feed back I received was less that desirable and on a few occasions I have felt the need to explain my reasons for shooting the way I did . I see this as building a thicker skin and more firm in telling my story my way. When an image fails to connect with the viewer I see this more as I need to step back and rethink my story and try again.
So I know this may sound harsh but it is coming from a good place, Don't dish it out bud if you can't take it back !!
All the best on your photography journey , just remember it is a life time journey. Van Gogh was not Van Gogh straight out of the paint box. Every photographer no matter how famous or good sucked at some point or failed to connect they got better because they kept at it an honed their craft.
You're overthinking things, John. Go have a stiff drink, and you'll feel better in the morning. Send me the bill, it's on me man.
Posted by Charlie Baugh on August 5, 2013 at 7:29 PM
My thinking is much closer to Stan;s. All that agony blurs my vision for a subject.
Charlie
Posted by Kent Staubus on August 10, 2013 at 12:16 AM
It seems to me that photography puts people into three groups. First group are those who basically love the gear and the mechanics. Second group are those who are trying to "document" what something looks like. Third group are those who are trying to capture what something "feels" like. I'm a bit of a mix of all, but tend to fall into the "feels like" camp. Maybe you are in the "document" camp?
Discussion
9 repliesBackground on this is my teacher is Willard Clay. I'm lucky to live were I do and to be able to have a teacher like this. I admit that. Background on this is a newsletter he has discussing things are changing in professional photography with the advent of digital technology, I-phones, and "good emough" criteria from the media.
I've been struggling with my own demons lately. So this is a letter I wrote to Willard which has some connections to NPN. I'm not sure I can re-state it any better as it addresses my possible continuing involvement here or not. So I decided to just post it. It's pretty long and I'd suggest that if you have something better to do, do that.
===============================================================
Put off reading the following until you have time; I say that realizing you may never read it, but then I think I'm probably writing it more for me than for you anyway. The subject is photography and my relationship with it over the past few years; probably a topic of little-to-no significance to anyone else, yet one that I think does have some relevance to a teacher such as you because you encounter so many students.
For the past four or five years, I was on some sort of trip with photography that put photography first. There is a whole social reality that supports this view, much of it reflected in the classes in photography presented at The Morton Aboretum, and in the realm of photography as a business. There is the concept of "art" and of how a photographic image should meet a certain set of criteria to qualify as art. Perhaps more generally, there are a set of norms by which photographic images are judged by others who make photographic images according to which the images can be ranked and rated relative to one another with respect to their, shall we say, "artistic merit". (Substitute your own terminology, but you get my point, I'm sure.)
With this preface, what I found happeing to me as a consequence of the degree of engagement I decided to have with social venues like the classes at The Morton Aboretum, the Morton Aboretum Photographic Society (MAPS), and on-line forums such as Nature Photgraphy Network (NPN) was that whatever it was inside of me that was the source of my photography died. When that happened, I had no interest whatsoever in taking pictures. All of a sudden, it was all gone.
In a way, I felt relieved. I realized at that moment; the moment I realized it had died; that I had been despirately grasping for something that was ultimatly and inherently all about grasping. Yet while I was glad that phase was over, I also wondered what would come next. This whole chain of cause-and-effect was transpiring starting in late May, but it had been developing for at least a year prior.
I have what I call an "inner voice" which is probably better described simply as feelings or intuition, and whatever it is suggested that I take a class at The Morton Aboretum in something other than photography, and so, on a whim, I signed up for a class in local flora identification. I am now a little more than half way through that class and have already completed my project.
It was in the process of completing that project that something was revealed to me, and that is the reason I'm writing this. I began using my camera equipment as a tool to take pictures of plants and plant parts that would help me within the context of this course. Having acquired some level of technical ability over the past four or five years, this went quite well, and several images resulted that were asthetically pleasing to me in addition to being of pragmatic value.
These were essentially "snapshots" because the teacher, for very good reason, doesn't want this to be about photography, but rather about plant identification, and so we cannot use tripods, we have to contend with rather stiff breezes, we have to take shots quickly and without moving things around, etc. But, within all of these constraints, I found that one can still try to do ones best and make the best image one can for the sake of illustrating the intended subject. (This reminded me of the discussion of "good enough" versus quality that we have been having).
Many of these images that I took under these circumstances were illustrative of a profound beauty in nature that I had, through this course, just been introduced to. Not that I had not been introduced to it before, but this was the first time I recognized it, and the camera was most certainly a factor in tha recognition. So what I then did was to select the ones I liked the best and post them on the nature photography forum I've been on for the past 9 months; a forum which is, ostensibly, all about nature and nature photography.
The result of this was somewhat unexpected; viz., I began to get critiques based upon the template of normative correspondence to the "art of photography" and somewhat dismissive of my intent; that being of a documentary nature, but one that could be equally profound.
And it was then I knew, for the first time, why I had had the difficulty I did that caused me to stop photography before. It's amazing how human nature can fuck up just about anything. Look what it's done with the religious impulse! You say you're interested in Buddhism; If you really know the Four Noble Truths and the Two Truths, you must see how even that has been corrupted.
So, Willard, I've decided I know enough about how to opperate my camera equipment, and that I have enough of that equipment. I am moving on. I'm now more interested in nature. You know, even Buddhists might entertain the concept of "God" as a metaphor, and we might think of the ultimately illusory things and events we see in nature as "God's Artwork", as a Sufi I once knew described it. So then when we make our artwork as photographers, it would seem we are trying to represent the beauty of that artwork that God has made as best we can. And we realize going in, that we will fall short.
Realizing this, then, it's a matter of degree; how short we will fall, not whether or not we can ever capture perfection -- we know that will never happen. So then I ask myself whether I care whether an image I took may be perceived by someone on NPN as "a bit soft" or not, as long as it conveys the intent. Perhaps they should use their imaginations to sharpen the areas that are lacking and see through to the intended message.
In the past I studied epistemology, philosophy of language, and Wittgenstein, and he, in the Tractatus, drew a connection between language and photography. Changing the focus from the proposition to the photograph, the analogy would be construed, perhaps in terms of the signal-to-noise ratio in the communication of information. If someone says something to you, I think what matters is that you can understand what they mean, not so much the perfection of there articulation of the words. Like that, I'm starting to think about photography.
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A couple of years ago now, I was lucky enough to be able to spend three weeks in the Falkland Islands, South Georgia Island and the Antarctic Peninsula. Our group leader, Hannah told us, "Before you take your first photo, look around for a few minutes. Then close your eyes. Listen. Take a deep breath and smell the air. Give yourself a minute to appreciate where you are. What you are sensing. Then start taking photos." Two years later, it's those minutes Hannah told us to appreciate, not the photographs, that have stayed with me. It's the sounds of 125,000 King Penguins on Salisbury Plain, not the images I made.
Second, art to me is communication. Art that doesn't communicate is a kind of intellectual masturbation. What NPN does, better than any venue I've found, is teach me how to make my photographs better, more effective communication. I post photos for comment and criticism because what my colleagues here tell me makes my photos better, and that makes them a more effective communication. A background that doesn't distract is more effective at communicating the subject; an image that is sharp where it needs to be holds the eye longer.
None of this makes your points any less valid; it's just a different view of NPN's role and each photographer's relationship to it.
Don’t be afraid to drop by from time to time to post up some snapshots of anything special you encounter in your journeys. I promise not to pick apart the details.
So I know this may sound harsh but it is coming from a good place, Don't dish it out bud if you can't take it back !!
All the best on your photography journey , just remember it is a life time journey. Van Gogh was not Van Gogh straight out of the paint box. Every photographer no matter how famous or good sucked at some point or failed to connect they got better because they kept at it an honed their craft.
All the best
http://luminous-landscape.com/columns/briots-view/vision_part_4_why_do_we_photograph.shtml
Charlie
Kent in SD