Single-Serving Photo

Thanks to Aaron Johnson of What the Duck for this eloquent visual synopsis of what I’ve been thinking about lately. Too often we get so deeply embroiled in our craft that we forget why we do it.

A debate has been raging for days on Usenet over the question of whether photography is art and, if so, when it becomes art. Although the very discussion is futile and has no practical outcome, I do think it’s important to take a step back from what you’re doing and think about what it is you’re gaining from it. This is going to be a heady philosophical post so if that’s not your particular brand of vodka, read some photo news instead. Read the rest of this entry »

There was a time, long ago, when photographs were conceived at the moment the shutter button was depressed. Darkroom techniques were limited at best (the idea that a photographic image could even be created was a modern miracle) and the photographer was required to make near-perfect exposures every time.

Things have changed a lot since then; it’s now possible to do amazing things long after the light has been captured by the camera. Today I’m going to explore some competing points of view and take a philosophical walk through the annals of photographic history to clear up some improper perceptions of digital post-processing. Read the rest of this entry »

Digital photography makes it possible for artists to create effects and apply treatments to their work that were once impossible in traditional photography. Is this an advantage that should be compensated for in competition and critique? Do digital photographers and traditional photographers have equal footing? Would the pioneering photographers who led the surge into traditional photography embrace today’s digital technology?

My opinion is that digital photography is, and should be treated as, entirely comparable and identical to traditional photography. Although the differences in process and technique bear investigation for the ambitious viewer and may play a role in serious competition and critique as parameters for comparison, they have no more bearing on the effect of the work as would the brand of pencils used by an illustrator.

In the field of art, competition and formal review should command the examination of an artist’s basic choice of media and execution. While even the casual viewer can deepen the experience of a piece of art with knowledge of its process, that information is only helpful insofar as it expands appreciation or increases understanding; all artwork is comparable given only the experience of it intended by its creator.

To give an example of what I mean, consider two paintings. Each painting was created with different types of paint and different brushes, one on canvas and the other on paper, one representational and the other abstract, one lacquered and the other not. Can these two works of art be compared objectively as paintings? My gut says they can. The majority of casual viewers would never seek out these differences because the two works can be compared and contrasted, fairly and completely, simply on the basis of their appearance.

Similarly in photography, two photographs may appear very much the same but may have been created in vastly different ways. In traditional photography alone, a myriad of chemicals and materials are available to the artist. Comparing two photographs, one traditionally printed and the other digitally created, should pose no problem to the viewer; only in formal competition and critique should this piece of information carry any weight, and that is also true for the painting example given above.

Digital photographers find themselves, in many cases, having to defend their work on the basis of its production methods rather than its artistic integrity, and it saddens me. When, in the history of art, have its methods come under such scrutiny? Producing new work in new ways has always been a core value of the field of art as a whole.

What is saddening is not that a photographer would spend time and energy defending his or her craft, for that seems to me a noble endeavor. What saddens me is that anyone would spend time and energy criticizing digital photography, in particular, on the basis of its process rather than its results. Few other fields of art come under such scrutiny; perhaps because many fields of art are less commercialized or because they occupy areas of the art world not very well traveled by the mainstream. Whatever the reasons may be, I hope that the future brings a greater acceptance of digital photography as a photographic methodology, not to be treated differently than the many ways in which light has been captured and reproduced in the past.

In 1932, Ansel Adams and Edward Weston, among others, formed “Group f/64” with the intent to “define photography as an art form by simple and direct presentation through purely photographic methods.”¹ As stated in their manifesto,

Pure photography is defined as possessing no qualities of technique, composition or idea, derivative of any other art form. The production of the “Pictorialist,” on the other hand, indicates a devotion to principles of art which are directly related to painting and the graphic arts.

Group f/64 was conceived in explicit opposition to the Pictorialist movement, which “subscribed to the idea that art photography needed to emulate the painting and etching of the time.”² Quite to the contrary, Group f/64 believed very strongly that photography “must always remain independent of ideological conventions of art and aesthetics that are reminiscent of a period and culture antedating the growth of the medium itself.”³ These are two very different viewpoints. One sees photography as a medium through which to create works representative of the predominant aesthetics and style of other types of art at the time, and the other sees photography as a new medium with its own aesthetics and style that should be preserved.

Purists almost by definition, the members of Group f/64 sought to stretch the boundaries of photography through strict adherence to its core methods. They used as few image-altering devices or techniques as possible; no lens filters, no exotic darkroom processes or equipment. Their images aspired to a crisp, infinitely-focused, tonally brilliant standard upon which many future photographers would base their own explorations.

It should be noted that although Ansel Adams used extensive, complicated darkroom techniques on many of his most famous prints, he was both an advocate of smart, precise post-processing as well as maintaining the integrity of the medium by minimizing distortion of the subject, and it was likely for the latter reason that he helped to form Group f/64.

But that was 1932. The “ideological conventions of art and aesthetics” of 1932 have been entirely replaced in the age of the computer. Almost in parallel to the 1932 Pictorialist/pure photography dichotomy, there are those who see digital photography as a mere convenience; a new, faster, and in some ways more inexpensive way to maintain similar aesthetics to photography of the past, and there are those who see digital photography as an entirely new medium.

I believe that both viewpoints are correct. However, digital photography certainly brings with it a veritable cavalcade of new capabilities and equipment, inheriting credibility and respect from its traditional, silver halide forebears, but independent from them in all other ways, both technical and aesthetic.

That being the case, what now embodies the “qualities of technique, composition or idea” specific to “digital photography?” If a new group came about with the same goals as Group f/64, but updated for digital photography, what would its major tenets be? With such extensive editing capabilities in the hands of even the beginner through Photoshop, Paint Shop Pro, The Gimp, iPhoto, et. al., it goes without saying that manipulation of the image is going to play a role. Whether it is basic tonal adjustment and sharpening, or more drastic and potentially destructive edits, such changes fall comfortably under the umbrella of digital photography as a medium.

When Ansel Adams stood before the St. Hernandez valley on that day in 1941, he could see in his mind the process that would be used to bring the exposure to life, from development to printing. It is that mastery of craft that has perhaps been forgotten now that the capacity to make hundreds, if not thousands, of exposures is available. This is one impact of the digital revolution. Scarcity encourages innovation; when there is less to work with, more attention is paid to planning and execution to squeeze every drop of that creative juice out of the moment.

Likewise, abundance breeds laziness. It’s too easy to snap 100 exposures of a subject in the hopes that one is in focus when each exposure costs you nothing and with cameras capable of several exposures per second.

This article doesn’t mean to draw conclusions. The ratio between excellent photographers and poor photographers is likely to be much the same today as it was in Ansel’s time (counting only those who consider themselves serious hobbyists and amateur professionals; photography is no longer exclusive to the exceptionally passionate and the exceptionally wealthy.) Still, digital photography raises a lot of interesting questions and only time will tell how it will be treated by the art historians of the future.

1. Wikipedia, Group f/64 [back]
2. Wikipedia, Pictorialism [back]
3. ibid. [back]