Why all of the photography of inanimate objects?

[Donald Miller]

I have noticed something in my years of actively engaging photography. This observation holds true for me and it seems to hold true for the largest percentage of photographers whose work that I have had the opportunity to observe. The overwhelming majority of photographs made seem to be of inanimate objects. Very little work being done of animate beings.

I question why this seems to be true. For those of us who aspire or pretend to be pursuing creativity (read that to mean "artistic") photography why do we spend such little time portraying anything about living (read that to mean humans) things, let alone anything about that which is true of us all...the universality of the human experience and condition.

I wonder if we haven't gotten trapped in a "rut" photographically. I question if we are not in some way acting like photographic lemmings. Do we have such little knowledge of ourselves, our emotional state(s) and our awareness to pursue depicting this in our photographs? Is it that we are uncomfortable approaching this depiction of the universality of the "human experience and condition" because to do so would involve removing the "mask" of our ego and that we view as being too threatening to consider? Are we so afraid of connecting with other human beings at an intimate level?

I ask those of you who may choose to read this whether we haven't gotten caught in the trap of making "beautiful" photographs. How many photographs have you or I made that speak of the matter of sorrow, joy, happiness, sadness, hope or despair?

It would seem to me that if our work is to speak to others that it would in some way attempt to communicate (read that to mean to tell of or to question) about our mutual experience.

I would appreciate your thoughts on this.

[Richard M. Coda]

"Beauty" is in the eye of the beholder. I read that somewhere

A true artist can find beauty anywhere... in the woods, at the sea, on an abandoned structure, in a shiny new skyscraper... the list is endless.

[Ken Lee]

The fact some find "inanimate" things, just as interesting as "animate" things, gives support to the proposition that nothing is completely inanimate.

Although we can talk about the photographer as separate from the photograph, and a photograph as separate from the viewer, they are mutually dependent, and no separation can be found.

The sorrows and joys of the photographer are already included in the photograph, just as they are already included in the life experience of person who views the photograph.

As they say in the ads for Prego Spaghetti Sauce... "It's in there".

[Ole Tjugen]

Inanimate objects tend to move slowly enough that they can easily be photographed with a LF camera.

On the timescales I use at work, everything is transient (I'm a geologist).

[Kirk Gittings]

Great question. For me, from my website:

I have always found the greatest sense of presence in abandoned and unpopulated places. This feeling of "presence" comes upon me even in places that have no obvious evidence of past or current occupation. It is a great irony to me that places which feel so desperately lonely are also where I feel the most alive.

[Bill_1856]

Trees and other plants are living things. Even waterfalls and the Earth itself are living things in one sense.
Portraits and Nudes are particularly appropiate for LF photography, while street photography, sports and other dynamic persuits are (generally, but not always) better handled by other techniques.
I think you need to look around more at other sources.

[matthew blais]

I feel many inanimate things can have personality, a presence, as Kirk mentioned.

[Charles Carstensen]

The landscape (including the attached man made structure) is living, constantly changing, happy, lonely, joyful, hopeful, sometimes sad. I have never seen despair when photographing the landscape. Despair needs to be left for the photojournalist with another medium.

[Paul Kierstead]

The overwhelming majority of photographs made seem to be of inanimate objects. Very little work being done of animate beings.

I'm not sure if you are limiting this assertion to LF or not. If not, I think it is a pretty wild assertion that I suspect is not true, unless you are focusing on a specific genre of photography or something.

Outside of that, well, people are less patient with all my putzing around. Also, I like quiet. Also, what Kirk said.

[Jim Galli]

It's easier. We need to admit that we all gravitate to the easiest path from point A to point B. Street photography bores me. That leaves actual human interaction which for most of us is hard work. The threshold is beginning the conversation. That is 88% of the work. Beyond that point things rarely go badly. Other humans are mostly gracious. I just finished reading Don Normark's Chavez Ravine, A Los Angeles Story for the second, or is it the third time. It's remarkable on so many levels. A shy white kid walks into a mexican-american neighborhood, becomes a familiar, and makes some of the most dazzling human experience photographs I've ever seen with an $18 camera!

A beloved neice is exploring photography in college courses with her low end Canon digital SLR. She is looking for a deeper experience. For Christmas I bought her Normark's book, a Ciroflex TLR, (the camera Don Normark used!), a used Paterson tank, a half-brick of outdated Kodak 120 Tri-X and some D76 and fixer. Where she goes from there is completely up to her. One hopes.