Crossing the Abyss of Discontent
There is a saying: one thing is an event, two things a coincidence, and three things form a pattern. Over the last week or two I seem to have been having a recurring conversation with a variety of different people, all along the same theme. It is only after having yet another one yesterday that I’ve begun to perceive that there is a pattern here, that something is being put in front of my face.
The conversation goes something like this: the person will ask me whether I think that it is possible to be truly creative. What they’re really asking is whether I think they are creative, and if not, what they can do about it. Often the conversation will talk about technical expertise, and whether there is any possibility of being different, unique and making highly original work.
Well, there is and there isn’t. technique is no longer the answer. Things have certainly changed. Let me explain.
Back in the day, the difference between a professional and amateur was generally perceived as being one of a difference in technical expertise. With a lifetime’s experience behind him, a professional photographer usually had a more profound understanding of photographic process. So, the people who taught me had, between them, nearly 80 years of experience to pass on. Back in the day, mastering film-based technique was something similar to climbing Mount Everest. You looked way up into the sky, and since there had to be a summit somewhere (there wasn’t), you began climbing. When people looked at your prints, with beautiful deep blacks and subtly-toned whites, their respect for you would grow because they were knew you were further up the mountain than them. Mastering film-based process was a long, involved and never-completed process. Mind you, it’s not that different with digital.
What has changed however is that Mount Everest has now shrunk to the height of a low pass through the hills. Getting technically excellent in digital is a relatively easy process. What might have taken 20 years back in the day can now be achieved inside a year or two. Being able to review your images in the field means being able to adjust and reshoot if necessary. The histogram has made it relatively straightforward to get an accurate exposure. No problem. Similarly, being able to shoot as many variations as you need without having to consider cost means that it is perfectly possible to shoot hundreds of photographs to get one which is just right. Because film-based photography had a cost factor, amateurs would tend to labour lovingly over a single frame, and search for the perfect moment to avoid unnecessary expense. Professionals and the greats, on the other hand, would shoot as many pictures as they needed to get the result. Inevitably a client was paying for it at some point. And, because they shot so much work, they became more efficient and more pro-efficient/proficient more quickly.
So more photographers are making more technically excellent work more often and more quickly. Furthermore, we are exposed to many more exemplars then we might have been once upon a time, when our main creative source was a local camera club. Now, Flickr, YouTube and the Internet mean that we are being exposed to a vastly greater array of truly top level photographs. Whatever the truly top level is.
And there, I believe, lies the rub. The bar has been raised, but it is still a relatively easy one to reach. Crossing it is another matter.
Returning to the conversations I’ve had, almost all of which have been with photographers who make truly excellent work, which can hold its head up in any company, what then is it that they are asking? As I dig, inevitably we get to the same old issue I’ve been discussing for quite some time. It is this: How can I stand out from the herd?
Almost all of, when we begin, aspire to be great photographers. We look at the works of people who seem able to produce stunning photographs which may be either beautiful landscapes or great photographs of wild animals, or portraits, or documentary photographs or whatever. And we want to be like them. Perhaps we want to sit on the inside corner at Bathurst and photograph a charging touring car as it lifts the inside wheel on the corner. Perhaps we want to photograph the moon rising in the Andes mountains. And so we learn what we need to learn, and, all going well, go off and do it. After a time we realise that our photographs are as good as pretty much anybody else’s.
And then what?
Where do we go to from there? Some of us will may wisely realise that this is about as far as we are ever going to go, or we want to go, and we are happy with where we’re at. Wonderful.
But others of us are beginning to realise that photography is much much more than an ambition trip, that making photographs gives us the opportunity to express ourselves, and in doing so learn more about ourselves. Then, and only then I believe, do we reach the Abyss of Discontent.
We become aware that a few, a very few are walking on the other side of what appears a deep, dangerous and fathomless abyss, that somehow, even though they have the same equipment as us, even though they probably spend about as much time on photography as us, even though they don’t appear to know all that much more than us, yet their work is quite clearly in a different space. Somehow it stands out from the herd, somehow it speaks with its own voice in a way we haven’t witnessed before. And then we began to wonder what we need to do to cross the abyss.
Over the years I have spent time with some truly unique and great photographers, including two local photographers whom I hold in the highest regard and number amongst my closest friends. You know who you are. What makes their work stand out for me is that I can read them in the photographs which they make. I get a sense of who they are, how they may live, and what they may have experienced in their lives. Then, when I get to meet them, I have the wondrous experience of finding out that I was right. They are every bit as wonderful, miraculous, unique and special as the photographs made them out to be.
If we are lucky and have the desire to do so, we will get to the edge of that abyss. We will get to stand there, realising that we want to go on, that we truly want to speak with our own voice. Many people, it seems to me, do not. A rare few who are truly, truly talented, seem to cross that abyss and separate themselves from everybody else with no apparent struggle. The rest of us have to find a way across. If we have the courage to do so.
So, I hear you say, how do we do that? How do we begin the journey across the abyss? How do we find our own unique voice with our photography? Here are some practical suggestions for those of you interested in doing so.
- Stop listening to anybody who insists on calling themselves a judge. If they’re sitting in judgment, they’re not sitting in assistance. Judges find you guilty or innocent. Anybody who says” I don’t like that” or” never do that” or” I won’t accept that” should spend more time on honest self-evaluation than inflicting themselves upon others. Note how all these statements are inevitably negative. Very few offer positive, practical advice which will help you to improve. Seek out a few people who will give you helpful, honest advice and lean on them.
- Expand your knowledge. Read often and widely. The Masters are masters for a reason. Find out how they lived, what they believed, about how and why they photographed. Find and read their biographies, and pay particular attention to what they write and/or wrote. The letters, if you can find them, should give you deep insight into what made them tick.
- Take an Art History course. Probably the best thing you can do. If you want to cross the abyss, don’t weigh yourself down with a stone upon which is printed” I may not know much about art, but I know what I like”. In exposing yourself to the rich history of the Visual Arts, you open yourself to a vast array of ideas and philosophies. There will be one which will appeal to you. If you like to call yourself an impressionist photographer, at least find out what the term really means, and what Monet and his colleagues were on about.
- Ask yourself why you photograph. Your initial answers may involve words like honours, acceptance, trophy, and letters. In time you will come to realise the true value of these things. Then, as you begin to dig a little more deeply, you may come to realise that the real reason you photograph is to discover more about yourself. Photography has a remarkable ability to hold a mirror up to each of us. Every photograph which we make is a mirror of who we are when we made the photograph. If it doesn’t look any different to anybody else’s, it is still sending you a strong message nonetheless.
- Now begin journalling. In the past, on my workshops I’ve referred to this as a visual diary. If you really want to develop your idea flow, then give yourself a quiet time of 30 minutes or so every day, when you focus solely and purely upon your photography. Take your best pictures and begin to write about what they tell you. The act of writing your thoughts down gets them out of your head where they are being constantly modified and onto paper, and allows them to crystallise. You can then come back to them at a later date and look at them objectively.
- Write the story of your life in the form of a long letter to somebody you value highly (you don’t have to let them see it). Write about all the things that were significant in your life and which really mattered to you, the moments in your life that were both joyful and sorrowful. Be as honest and complete as you can. Then put the letter away for a month or two. Get it out and read it as if you were the person on the other end of the letter. What did you learn about yourself? And, if you had been handed this letter by publisher and told to go out and photograph it, what would those photographs be? What would be in them? What style would they follow? Would they be grainy black and white documentary photographs? Would they be soft, lens baby-style colour photographs? Would you have used a large-format view camera to make them?
You see, what separates us from other photographers is not an amazing mastery of PhotoShop, or owning a 65 MB Phase One camera outfit. It isn’t a 400 mm F2 .8 super lens and a carbon fibre monopod. It isn’t a drawer full of medals and trophies and well-dones of various sorts. What makes our photography special, and unique, and stand-out, is when we realise that the greatest resource we have is ourselves, that each one of us is special a in an utterly unique way.
Only when we began to realise that we actually do stand out from the crowd, develop the courage and give ourselves permission to do so, will we realise that, all along, we were on the other side of the abyss.
Print FriendlyPublished on Tuesday, December 1st, 2009, under Thinking about Photography and Art
Hear Ye, Hear Ye, Hear Ye!!
Bravo Tony! A most useful distillation of the many directions around the edge of the compass a wandering photographer carries. Thanks for providing a hint about the terrain and possible directions one might take en route to ones personal mountain top.
Regards,
Henzel
well said Tony, this is a very good post and I like it alot, it speaks to me and I’m sure alot of other people as well – if they are listening,
Great article Tony, and food for thought.
Guys: pleasure to be of service ( bows low, all teh time keeping eyes on opponent’s sword hand)
So whatever happened to “the way to art is though craft”?????
It seems that you are saying is that learning technical things is easy but the real challenge is the creative stuff……………
Great roadmap Tony – thankyou. I think that this year is going to be great fun
Ian
Ian: indeed I am. Craft is always important. As Weston said: There is nothing worse than the technically fuzzy execution of a brilliant concept. Did I get that around the right way?
Looking forward to it myself….
I also have advice that you pick up the challenge of training for a certain North Island airport, and that the challenge will keep you young and sharp of mind….in other words, harden up…
Ian,
I love the way you always pop up and challenge what Tony has said.. and that you won’t let him forget ( or deny) what he has said before.
Regarding your comment about technical v. creative stuff; I’d like to say that I think the DRIVER is creative and the MOTOR is technical.
Both are integral to the production of ‘awesome’ works. A strong motor carries an expert driver as he cuts a decisive swath through the bush leaving the competition in the dust.
Many can be accused of spending to much time wandering around in a cloud lacking any creative direction (me included). There’s some great advise there to help provide positive direction.
You can bet I will read this more than once.
Cheers.
Loved this posting – creativity has long been an intrigue. I think the more you try to be creative, the less you will be. The great artists, who were creative, were often not recognised in their own time but they were so driven to express themselves and so confident in what they were doing (apart from the times they fell into the abyss) that they continued producing work. Different for commercial artists of course – fulfilling the demands of the client.
The present day with web 2.0, creative commons., Flickr etc, it’s all about sharing and constructive critiquing / communicating rather than hierachical power play.
Thought provoking & inspiring Tony. As always.
Let yourself free, to be what you will be………
Cheryl:
I couldn’t agree more. But then, perhaps the move away from competition to collaboration is thing the thing which will ensure the survival of our species…
Thank you Tony,
Once again you have succinctly pointed out to me the way to go.
Plenty of food for thought here,
and some assignments for my summer break…..
Tony, I like the post. I hardly get time to get the Nikon out these days so I’m not exactly contemplating the abyss, but I recently transferred all my old photos onto my new computer which defaults to showing them in a continuous slide show/screen saver. And some of them, when they appear unexpectedly on the screen, still make me gasp with pleasure. It’s interesting to notice which ones…
PS I hate the white writing on black background – eye-hurtingly bad website design.
Tony, your post reminds me of a Christchurch workshop I attended where at the end we were asked for feedback. My comment was that while I learnt some technical stuff and was shown some great images, the bit that was missing for me was, ‘what should I see through the view finder just before I pressed the shutter button that would make that image truly remarkable’.
Your post hints at the answer, which I now believe is a ‘refection of yourself’. Sounds a bit deep but it’s not really. If, at the time you press the shutter you are feeling emotionally drained and lack any energy then your image will reflect that. Conversely if your senses are on high alert, energy levels peaking and you are connected to a scene which has energy and a life of its own, then that’s what will be reflected in your image. In other words your image is a reflection of how you are at that particular time.
So maybe crossing the ’Abyss of Discontent’ is a lot simpler and is less mystical than you imply. To do it the steps could be. Remember the mood you were in when you took that last amazing image. Step back and relive that mood. With that mood still in place find a scene that has energy, a life of its own and begs to be photographed. Then, when the scene is also in place, simply put the camera between you and the scene and press the shutter button.
Peter
Jessamine:
Thanks for the comments on my website design. Noted. Interestingly, years ago a friend who was a picture editor told me that his newspaper journos used yellow on black because it was easier to read. Your thoughts?
What do the rest of you think?
Jeepers Tony, this post has the folk talking!
I’m not going to say anything, just take it all in, liking it.
I can’t be quiet about the website though and I’m with Jessamine, I have lines in front of my eyes for 2 mins after reading here.
Technically white on black is easier to read than black on white but in practice it’s too much contrast and web usability studies show we are 26% more accurate reading dark text on light background on the web.
Right-Click disable is a crock too and just pisses honest people, any rat bag is going to do whatever they want on your site in minutes, far better to protect your content directories.
Right, got that off my chest – have a good day.
Just so interesting and has caused a lot of deep thinking on my part and seems to keep drawing me back again and again. Really here you have supplied us with a pathway to the future and it’s in easy to follow instructions so thank you for again making me consider the why and how of what I do. Tony you seem always able to push peoples buttons and this again is an example we all battle with the whole “why we do it” issue at some time or another and I myself will continue to revisit this post in the future to get my direction corrected and get back on track.
Keep it up the inspiration is well appreciated!!!!!
Tony, In reality photographers don’t really create anything, more that we represent things, ideas, objects, and ourselves, so all work while perhaps not being highly original, is by default different and unique and therefore “creative”.
However the distinction between great work and average work is another story! For a picture to be great all the elements that make up photography, including the photographers technical abilities, must come together in that time and place when an opportunity arises. Therefore, the more we seek that time and place the more likely we are to be the one with the chance to be the maker of the great photograph. As Andy Apse once said “ first you have to be there with a camera and film to have any chance of getting the picture” Having the ability to make the picture when this mythical opportunity arises, comes from time with your camera and choice or printing tools, and a desire as you say to learn by expanding your knowledge of the history of art and photography. But if one has no sense of, or looses contact with, why they make photographs in the first place, then despite having all the above skills the task will be that much harder.
Your point 4 “Ask yourself why you photograph” reminds me of a time when I was about to go to Europe to exhibit. I was unsure what work to take, so I asked a good friend and art dealer to come around for a drink and help me decide. We spent the whole evening drinking and drinking and talking about everything other than my exhibition! As he was about to leave we realized this, and he offered me this great yet simple advice. Just search deep within yourself and ask yourself why do I make photographs, the answer to what work to show is there! As simplistic as that sounds it wasn’t easy, it took me some time to go right back to the beginnings of my initial attraction and desire to photograph, and my subsequent evolution. But I did find the answer, and as a result the works I took were received well, and more importantly I felt happy that they represented who I am.
Like all things in life hard work equals results! I have a little sign on the wall above my desk reminding me of this that goes
“If you don’t climb high, you see very little”
Hi doc
You highlighted the central question, ‘why you photograph’. As a helpful process to me and I expect to others, and with due respect to you, are you willing to share with us as little or as much as you wish to answer ‘why do you take photographs’?
Thanks, Peter:
I think.
Line me up against the wall and ask me. I will answer.
Give me a little time…
Blessings….
Tony I will look forward to that. I was also curious why Doc takes photographs?
Hi Peter, I’m happy to answer that, as it is the simplest answer to one of the most complex questions I have ever asked myself! It’s also a question we should all ask ourselves, and answer, and we should write our answer down, not just think it! Thoughts are like pictures, to me they have no point unless they are printed to be read later!
On the simple level I take photographs because I have an opinion that I want to, and enjoy to express.
On a deeper level, my making photographs now, stems from the fact that since childhood I have always been interested in drawing pictures and making art of some kind. As I grew up and found photography I discovered I had an affinity with it, perhaps most importantly the immediacy of photography suited my personal manner. I take photographs quickly, I rarely use a tripod, and I would rather walk around the corner in the expectation of a picture that wait where I am in the hope that something might happen. In relation to the exhibition I mentioned, my self questioning made me realize that a very big part of what I like to talk about in my photographs is a sense of isolation and being alone. The being alone bit is a personal thing, the isolation is something I feel we as new Zealanders experience both geographically, socially and professionally. I believe that these isolations mould us, and in many ways make us what we are and who we are as New Zealanders. My photographs represent how I fit and feel within that isolation.
As a footnote, what I personally like about photography, as well as any medium really, is what the photographer/artist has to say. Having something to say, and being able to say it, is intrinsically associated to the question of creativity concerning photography, and is maybe part of the questions people have been asking Tony. Perhaps they are really saying to him, can you see I have, or do I even have, something to say!
The photographer who goes out with a camera with the purpose of getting photographs that have some narrative, whether it is a specific story, or message, or just a personal belief they want to get across, will invariably get a more interesting picture than the photographer looking for their own version of something they have seen before that perhaps won a prize. I always say to people who wonder if they are being “creative” If you look through your lens and see a picture you’ve seen before, don’t push the button, then when you get home what pictures you have will by default all be creative.
Doc
Doc:
Many thanks. that is awesome. I am glad Peter asked:
I am honoured you answered.
I make pictures because I want to know myself better. At the moment that is my only answer.
And, for me, it is enough.
Thanks guys, very helpful!
As I contemplate the abyss I realise from this that I am not alone. Tony and others, thank you.