Things that play out over time (music, literature, movies, video games) can push buttons and pull levers that a still image can't. And a roller coaster ride can do things that music and literature can't.
But any of the above can have varying levels of depth and shallowness. Of course this all hinges on how you define "depth".
Mike → "Junior Liberatory Scientist" ✌
What makes a photo deep is not as much any intrinsic quality of the photo as it is the response it evokes in the viewer. That response is conditioned by the experiences of the viewer's lifetime, far more complex than any single image. Even though I was just a kid during WWII, the Joe Rosenthal photo of the Iwo Jima flagraising portrays struggle and victory better than any other photo from the war. To this retired career Navy man, a single photo of the USS Nevada, on fire but under way during the Pearl Harbor attack, tells more of America's indomitable spirit than any words of the time. Karsh's iconic photo of Churchill must have meant the same to the British Empire in that war. I don't recall that seeing a large print of it in a Karsh exhibit moving me as much as seeing book reproductions years earlier. It was the message more than the medium that counted.
On the other hand, my Cole Weston print of Shell, 1927, shares the unexplicable ability to move me like a Haydn string quartet or some of Bach's unaccompanied violin or cello music does. Perhaps we should not try too hard to unravel the mystery of such magic.
I have rarely found single photographs that I could call deep, in the sense they convey some deep truth about people or the spaces we inhabit. What I have found to be truly deep, perhaps more so than any other medium, are some photographer's dedication to certain subjects, places, and their respective stylistic approaches. Their resulting bodies of work are very much deep, imbued with the authenticity and truth that only hundreds of hours of photographic dedication validate. Good or bad, photographs are still a record of one's deep feeling for something.
Right. In this sense photography is the most superficial of media, because it is made by traces of light bouncing off the surfaces of things. The interesting conversation, I think, is about what this implies. If we have a sense of depth (which we often do) where does it come from? All these possible sources of meaning ... metaphor, narrative, personality ... if they are not intrinsic to the image, which can never really show anything but the optical appearance of surfaces, then where do they reside?Originally Posted by johnmsanderson
Philosophers and theorists and literary types have been dealing with these questions for over half a century now. I sense that we photographers often operate from a bunch of assumptions that we rarely bother questioning.
I agree with this sentiment. There are images that I can revisit again and again over decades that with each viewing reveals ever richer content and emotional connection. I am genuinely astonished that this is not a universal experience. It is that very quality of photography that moves me to create personal "art" images. I'm not sure I would bother without having experienced that in others images.On the other hand, my Cole Weston print of Shell, 1927, shares the unexplicable ability to move me like a Haydn string quartet or some of Bach's unaccompanied violin or cello music does. Perhaps we should not try too hard to unravel the mystery of such magic.
Thanks,
Kirk
at age 73:
"The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep"
'moved' =\= deep
you can be moved by a sunset..or even a commercial... but I wouldn't call them deep
I don't know if "deep" is the best word. But visual art can be just as nuanced, layered,
evocative, whatever, as audible music or any other esthetic form. Doesn't mean everyone
else is tuned in to it. If I can stand looking at one of my own prints on a wall for more than
a few months I figure it must have something going for it. I got cussed out at a big public
opening one time when some guy got totally confused by the spatial complexities in a particular big Cibachrome. I found his reaction fascinating, not offensive at all. But that very print was the one the curator wanted front and center. Took me about twenty years to get tired of that particular image, but I eventually did, but more because of the hues
instead of the composition, which I still enjoy. How much of this transpires consciously
when we take such shots is really a voodoo subject; but in the darkroom it starts becoming more cognitive for me.
Doctor, I think I understand your thoughtful diagnosis: All deep photos are moving, but not all photos that move you are deep. Is that fair? ;^)
-----
However, if you’re not a deep person, and a deep photo doesn’t move you, is it still deep?
Just asking, because the helpful people around here whose opinions I value highly seem to be avoiding my final question in post #1: “Just how objective is anyone’s sense of photographic depth?”
I think this Anais Nin quote says much:
"If you do not breathe through writing,
if you do not cry out in writing, or sing
in writing, then don't write, because our
culture has no use for it."
~Anaîs Nin
I would echo this sentiment in Photography.
I am not moved by commercials, except perhaps to turn the TV off entirely, or to "move" to another channel. My mentor, Phil Perkis, used to say "At the end of the day, what wisdom do you have to share with the rest of us?" If one doesn't have any, then they ought to go look for it and not bother with mediums of expression until they have found some.
If one can not find find a photograph that moves them "deeply" then they should stop photographing and go look for one. It is only then that they will know "where they live" within the many genres of photography. It is only by knowing who you are and what you stand for that you can express anything of value. Anything else is just a technical exercise.
We live in a world today that is filled with superficiality, and everything is a commodity. There are so many things that cheapen life. We must rail against this or we will end up living in some science fiction novel where we are all reduced to numbers. If we can't find meaning in our lives, however differently that may express itself for everyone, then we are lost.
To express one's self deeply, it takes work. Emotional work, that is. If one is not willing to do the work, it shows. To move someone, one must first be moveable themselves. To create a picture of someone more than a snapshot, one has to be able to connect with another person. The deeper one connect's usually the deeper the photo. To photograph a tree that does something to someone else, you have to be able to connect with a tree. Otherwise, its just one more tree shot, and we've all seen what a tree looks like. We don't get transported there.
It's important to me to know that some of my favorite portraits ever taken, those by Walker Evans, were taken after literally weeks of getting to know these people. It's very different from shooting out the window of the bus as one travels thru a foreign country.
Knowledge and understanding, truly being present, sharing something that is universal and useful, that equals deep.
Lenny
EigerStudios
Museum Quality Drum Scanning and Printing
And this language of being "moved" raises another question. Moved from where to where?
Posting Permissions
Reply With Quote
Bookmarks