Q:
o.k. Let’s go back to why not every image made by a good photographer is a good photograph. Explain me that.A:
Well: if photography is a reflection of someones being in the world, then it should be obvious, that during a lifespan this being in the world is an evolving thing, is changing, is going on; it is a process. If you cross a river, jumping from stone to stone to get to the other side, not every stone is the same stable and the same big. But every stone is necessary to making the bridge for you to getting to the other side.
Same in a creative process: sometimes a lot of work has to be done, and lot of sketches, of try-and-error has to be made in order to lead you to the point where you want to go, and where you want to arrive.
The above is an excerpt from an interview with Urs Bernhard. Honestly, I’ve never heard of the man before, but I just happened to be reading the website: The International Analogue Photographic Society. I rather liked their tagline: Film is not dead it just smells funny! In the interview, Urs is talking about how not every good craftsman makes a good photographer and, of more interest to me, why each good photographer doesn’t always make good photographs.
I’ve been doing a bit of reflection over the photographs that I’ve taken in the past year since my move to Charleston, SC. Overall, I feel that they are very much hit and miss. They are all over the place. Chaotic. This is, to me, understandable as that has been my state of mind, off and on, for nearly a year and my photography cannot help but reflect that.
Things have been changing rapidly and I have been quite disturbed at times, peaceful at other times. I’ve been away from home for nearly a year. There have been 2 major illnesses in the family (not the immediate family) and one fairly major surgery. It has been a rough ride. These are merely events and only my thoughts about those events make them ‘feel’ rough. These are not complaints, merely observations, for I know that each person that I meet on the street is going through their own trials. Each of you who read this have faced or are facing your own challenges. How does that affect your photography?
I think that Mr. Bernhard hit upon the major theme when he said:
Well: if photography is a reflection of someones being in the world, then it should be obvious, that during a lifespan this being in the world is an evolving thing, is changing, is going on; it is a process
We are all constantly changing, different today from what we were yesterday. We cannot help but to reflect our state of mind in our photography. It is probably not evident from viewing a single photo or two but may become readily apparent when viewing an entire body of work over a certain time period. I feel that a lot of my photos from pieces of this time period, the last year, are chaotic, both in choice of subject as well as depth.
However, there is a good side to this. That same lack of consistency, perhaps with words such as these, tell the story of a period of time in life where things were not settled. When that settling comes again, and it will, my photography will change yet again. In spite of this, I continue to shoot … perhaps, because of this. Perhaps I am writing and photographing my own autobiography.
That said, I have managed to capture a few decent ones in those quiet spaces. My favorites so far this year are the ones from this post and this one. This leads me to wonder, which came first, the chicken or the egg? Can one capture a peaceful scene only when feeling peaceful inside, or is the capture of the peaceful scene a wish to be fulfilled?
No related posts.
13 Responses to “Reflections of self.”
Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.
The reflection of where ypu are takes many forms. For me, when disturbed, I can’t think creatively, so I shut down. When I feel peaceful and secure, things flow. Whether the photos are good or bad, well, I’ll let the viewer decide.
Living away from home can be good or bad. I haven’t yet decided what my time away did for me, perhaps I’ll only be able to tell years from now.
I DO think that the images you capture reflect where you are inside.
This was a great post, Paul.
@Chris: It’s good to see you still around! I’m glad that you liked the post. In thinking about living away from home, should I return back to Charlotte in, lets say, a year, we will be empty nesters. How’s that for a change?! I’m not quite sure how I feel about that, so I’ll just stay here in the moment and not think about the future!
I wonder if this is not similar to some of the same problems I have. When I head out with the camera in the hope of finding something good, sometimes I do. As a collection or story or anything at all, they remain individual images for the most part.
Those times I head out with singular purpose and especially those that will stretch out over time better images tend to be captured. Not always are each image a knockout but when connected together there is a richness and depth that would be hard to get from any single image.
Most of the time I do have the drive to photograph but its that there is not always some compelling idea that is driving me crazy. When I have my muse I seem to be able to see more and therefore photograph more.
Being away now for a year is hard and it can be easy to get in the doldrums and stay there. I do think your camera is an extra sanity device and I hope something grabs you with a passion for a great cause.
Niels Henriksen
Paul,
Great piece of writing (and photos too).
I had a wise man mentor me my first year of teaching who said, “You can’t teach what you aren’t.” He said that you can talk about things you know about, but to really teach, you have to be that thing. To truly teach writing, you have to be a writer. To really teach photography, you have to be a photographer.
You don’t have to be a pro at these things, just have that passion for the subject. And throughout life one has changes in their passions–who a person *is* changes.
I think photography, or any of the arts, rely heavily on the inner person. I know when I have that certain something, that spark (Niels said “muse,” and I think we have all had our muse before), my writing is much different than without it.
I certainly believe that spark leaks through into your work. When you said, “Perhaps I am writing and photographing my own autobiography,” I believe you are (and the beautiful thing about this work in progress is that you can direct it however you want). You, or anyone else, can go back years from now and see through your eyes at different stages of your life and see who you were at each stage because of your pictures.
Another terrific topic of discussion and responses that provide enough to chew on for days.
I believe that we are bound to reveal who we are when we photograph. At every level, our choices betray us. What we see, and how we see it tells others how we view the world and where we are in our lives—(or, Paul, as you so provacatively suggested, where we would like to be.)
It seems to me that we shouldn’t waste any time denying or fighting this reality, but embrace it. Since we are constantly evolving, we are in for a tumultous journey; but it’s the only way to eventually get to something worthwhile.
@Niels: “I do think your camera is an extra sanity device and I hope something grabs you with a passion for a great cause.” I think that you are very close to hitting the nail on the head, Niels. There is something there bubbling inside. I just don’t know what it is. I do know, though, that it will present itself one day. Just think, my very on opus!
@Scott: It sounds like your mentor was very wise, indeed. Thanks for sharing that. I believe that we’ve all seen the differences between passionate teachers, those who really knew and loved their subject, and those that were just teaching for the check.
@Anita: I couldn’t agree more. There’s no way that we can hide who we are when we share our images. No way. It would truly be a waste of time to deny it.
That’s why I ‘came clean’!
A deep post, Paul. I agree about how a good photographer can’t always take a good photograph. It does require skill, it does require good equipment and good timing. Yet for all of this, it also requires other forces, both internal and external. Our photos are yet another road to self discovery, to uncovering layers of ourselves that we are often blind to. Looking closely at even the bad photos one can discover something valuable about ourselves, even if it isn’t something we want to see.
I have to admit, I love the depth of your recent posts.
I think the interpretation of a picture changes too, while the transition between life moods continues. The picture you find peaceful and good is perhaps only peaceful another day. It was good since you resonated with it when you were in that particular mood. On your last questions, I would say no on the first (though I very well would work this way) and yes on the second. The latter would be true to me since I tend to make pictures that resonate with my mood. If I long for love, love will be part of my pictures. Same goes with peacefulness and other states of my mind.
I get what you’re saying Paul. For me the bad photographs happen when I am absorbed with myself, with the story of “me”. That story is the one with all the challenges. From that perspective I make images that are most often bad, sometimes ok but never great. But sometimes, through no choice of mine, I lose myself and during those moments images appear, all vying for attention and somehow some of them are caught in camera. Later when I view them on my computer I feel surprise and joy and wonder. Then the story of “me” steps in and says “Yeah, I took those!” but the images know that’s a lie. The good images make themselves and I am just fortunate that they revealed themselves to me.
I suspect that the bad images are more a reflection of “me” while the good images are more a reflection of… “being” I guess. It’s kinda hard to explain.
@Cedric: I understand exactly what you are saying. I’ve been there, though I think that all of the images have merit and something to teach, but there are those very special few that escape ‘the story’ and something to behold. Unfortunately, when we see those, we grab them and try to make them happen again, but paradoxically, they can only happen when we make no attempt. They are simply gifts, I think.
@Cedric – In my opinion both the good and the bad photos are telling us something about ourselves. No one is all good or all bad on the inside, regardless of what one believes. Sometimes the good photos are a challenge from within to actually recognize certain aspects that otherwise would remain hidden. Photography is art when it is personal regardless of the apparent quality of the photo. Some beautiful photos are just beautiful though they seem empty emotionally.
@Paul – likely this idea of images having meaning is why we keep so many of them in files somewhere. I still have negatives stored in safekeeping from several decades ago. Looking back, they have something to teach, something that I wasn’t ready to understand then, but now on looking over them, I “get” it. I couldn’t make it happen then, but now, I don’t have to, the message comes through “as is.”
[...] art come with emoticons? I hadn’t planned on writing this post until a post by Paul Lester inspired me to do so. So for what it’s worth here are some [...]
“Can one capture a peaceful scene only when feeling peaceful inside, or is the capture of the peaceful scene a wish to be fulfilled?”
I spent a lot of time wondering about that, too. I think that there is a way to photograph peace even if you’re longing for it rather than feeling it, but in yourself, you’ll look at the photo and see the longing as well as the peace. And the other viewers of the photograph will see what it reflects of themselves, if they feel peace they will see that but similarly it may have a taste of melancholy if they don’t. Colin noticed me babbling about it on twitter one day too:
http://www.auspiciousdragon.net/photowords/?p=1913