LensWork - Photography and the Creative Process

No doubt photography is one of the greatest visual media of all. But that doesn't mean that we don't have to be very clever indeed to invoke other senses. Things like our sense of smell, touch, or our sense of temperature are not aspects of our photographs, but they can be aspects of the viewers experience if we are clever enough to include them in the visual.

Whether you think of yourself as a pro or an amateur, it's what you do, not how you label yourself that counts.

And for a medium to be an effective means of producing art, it must provide a means of lying successfully. So says Henry peach Robinson in an essay published in 1892. I wonder what he would think about photography here in the age of Photoshop?

I would propose that your bad pictures are not nearly as bad as you might think they are. In fact bad is a relative term that only makes sense when we know the final objective. If you're objective is the great photograph to go above the fireplace, then any given image might be bad — for that purpose. That doesn't mean the image can't be used in some other way, in a project for example, or at worst case an image to practice your technique upon.

I was recently introduced to the term photographic celibacy, meaning and approach to the art life in which one isolates oneself and doesn't look at the work of other photographers. The argument goes that working in isolation keeps us pure, but it seems to me to draw an arbitrary line that eliminates a tremendous source of inspiration.

Most people with a camera are not photographers, at least not in the sense that you and I think of when we do photography. It's too bad there isn't a word that easily defines those of us who use cameras to make personally expressive artwork. This is precisely why I prefer to call myself an artist or a storyteller rather than a photographer. I wonder what people would say if we started referring to ourselves as "image poets."

Six months ago I was involved in the downsizing and preparation for my current travels. Part of that downsizing was a giant purge of my photographic archives, particularly all those prints I made in my youth that in retrospect are quite suspect. 99% of it went into the landfill and 6 months later I cannot tell you how relieved I am to not have that albatross still holding me back. There is a research group that might be worth reviewing called the Foundation for Photographic Preservation. And their website FfPP.org.

I continue to wonder at the photographic world's fascination with big prints. What advantages are there to big prints that make them so compelling?

All the great artists of history have a few pieces of work that are generally acknowledged as their best. When we see this historical analysis, I think it's natural for us to think about our best. But I suspect we will never know which of our photographs are best because we lack the perspective of time and, of course, best is in the eye of the beholder.

What possible reason would anyone have for using convoluted and incomprehensible language to motivate us to look at their artwork? Maybe there is a subtext that simply says, "I am a member of the club." And which other members reccognize. Not being in the club, I guess I'll never know.

We have made so many strides forward in the pursuit of presenting photography as a fine art medium, it would be a shame to see those gains reversed in the tides of 21st century photography.

Inspiration, community, awe inspiring photographs. This year's Our Magnificent Planet book promises to once again be spectacular.

I have searched and searched for a definitive answer on whether or not it makes a difference if I leave IBIS turned on when I use a tripod. Answers abound both yes and no. I've tried to do determinative tests on my own, but they've all been inconclusive. Anyone have a definitive answer?

This conversation with Guy Tal is also available as a video. The link to the video is http://vimeo.com/584412114/02ea805756

Part of the purpose for having a gallery exhibition is to show and possibly sell some of your original prints. But a secondary reason for a gallery exhibition is to make a connection, and perhaps even establish a relationship with the public. The best way to do so is to make sure they leave the gallery with something in their hands.