What do we contribute to the picture?

[John Cook]

Now that the New England winter is over, the sidewalks are no longer coated with ice, and it is light more than six hours a day, my thoughts turn to getting out and making a few artistically stunning happy-snaps for the living room walls.

While pondering all of this, a question suddenly occurred to me. As the yuppies would say, what do I, as the photographer, bring to the party?

To illustrate my point, let me recount three worst-case scenarios I have witnessed.

First. A local wealthy young woman decided she would like to be a great fine artist and photograph the human condition. She purchased the latest, most expensive model Nikon, a hundred or more rolls of color film and flew to Bangladesh for a private tour of some leper colony or similar unfortunate encampment.

There, she set up the tripod and camera on auto-focus, auto-exposure and activated the motor drive. For all I know, she just loosened the tripod head and let the camera spin around by itself, shooting the little children gathered around as the exposures automatically pumped off.

Returning to NYC, she dumped off the hundred rolls of film at a prominent lab for development and proofing. Several dozen randomly-selected frames were made into 30x40 prints and professionally mounted and framed. A show/cocktail party of this work was held at a local gallery, at which she was hailed as one of the great photographers of the 20th Century.

What, exactly, did this woman contribute, except the ability to land a young husband with the deep pockets to fund her great adventure with automatic equipment?

Example Two. I once worked for a food photographer. His typical method after receiving a commission, was to first hire a prop-stylist to canvas the local antique stores for nick-knacks to dress the table-top set. Then a food stylist was brought in to cook and prepare the product to be photographed.

A large softbox was shown onto the set and the shot framed with dummy stand-in props. The assistant determined the proper exposure with test Polaroids.

The agency art director selected the props from those gathered by the prop-shopper, while the food stylist arranged the final product on the set. After the art director was happy with the composition, the assistant made the exposures and the lab technician processed the film.

Again, what was the photographer’s contribution beyond building the studio, convincing the art director to give him the commission and hiring all the free-lancers to do the work?

Finally, I once worked for a fashion photographer. He had me set up a simple white flatly-lit wall. A very expensive, skinny, double-jointed NYC model whose hair and make-up were done by free-lancers, and who was dressed in the client’s clothes, simply stood in front of this wall and shook her booty to the rhythm of some loud fast recorded music. I fed pre-loaded motor-drive cameras to the photographer, who tracked her just as he would a parade going down the street in front of him. Later, the lab souped the film and the art director picked the frame to publish in the ad.

Again, what part of this adventure belongs to the photographer? He turned on the motor drive, but had nothing to do with the subject being “photo-copied”.

On the fine art scene, I have recently seen beautiful photographs of Big Sur and Cape Cod. What I would describe as technically exquisite snapshots of a breathtaking scene. Very nice, but nothing which could not be produced by anyone with an automatic camera who just happened to be there at the time.

So is the photographer’s contribution that he happens to live near a picturesque area which he can visit with a camera every morning before breakfast? Sooner or later, the sun, tide, fog and gulls will be all in the right place and ready to be recorded.

Then there are the autumn scenes of red maples and white churches in New England. Or perhaps rapidly flowing streams running past an old mill. Much more work to locate than well-known photogenic targets like Big Ben or the Great Pyramids.

Is the photographer’s claim to fame simply that he likes to take his little Ebony on endless walks, no matter the weather, all around the countryside? While the rest of us happily sit home by the fire and type things onto the photography forums?

So, to repeat my question, just what is it that we as photographers contribute to the picture?

[Struan Gray]

Perception.

[Renee Galang]

My contribution as a photographer/conservation biologist is to assist the conservation of the central Panay Island (Philippines) mountain ranges by walking from the coastal town to the deep jungle and photograph for the first time its beauty. My dream/hope is to convince the Philippine politicians to turn this mountain range into a national park in the near future. By walking I mean walking hundreds of kms through the jungle and rock slides without any trails and sleeping on a hummock under a tarp for weeks. I don't just push buttons my friend!

[Ben Calwell]

John,

To take your question off on a tangent, I've often wondered what it is that the great photographers (Adams, Weston, etc) had that the rest of us don't. I've often read that Adams' prints "glow" or that Weston's blacks were beyond this planet, etc. The ability to compose an artful shot aside, it seems to me that photograhy is a scientific process, so that film and paper would behave in the same ways for Joe Blow Unknown Photographer as it would for Adams. How come Adams could do it, but Joe Blow can't? Light hits film in the same way for Joe Blow as it did for Adams. The shutter opens and closes for Joe just like it did for Ansel. Joe sinks his film into developer just like Ansel did it. Joe puts the neg in the enlarger and exposes paper just like Ansel, so how come Joe Blow's work isn't the talk of the town?
If, back in the 1940s, Joe Blow Photographer had driven past the "Moonrise Over Hernandez" scene say, 15 minutes before Adams arrived there, stopped his truck, gotten out his 8x10 and made the shot, would Joe be revered today (assuming he had made a good exposure and print)?
I guess I don't understand why, if a photographer masters the technical side and has an artistic eye, he or she never attains the Mount Olympus status of past masters.
Were Adams, Weston and the rest just great PR people who aggressively marketed their work? Did they have a pact with the devil so that their paper, lenses, film and chemicals behaved differently for them?

[Nick Morris]

There are many, many reasons for loading a camera, aming it at a subject, and releasing the shutter. And in the history of image making there have been many, many repeat performances. By that, I mean basically the same image made by numerous image makers. These image makers each brought the tools, materials, knowlegdge/skill, motivation and a reason to make the image.

In examples two and three, I'd say the photographers brought either exceptional photographic skills or exceptional sales skills...and most likely a combination of the two, to the party.

In your first example, I'd say the photographer brought a strong desire to to tell the story. Something or someone motivated her to make the effort. Either innate skill or luck allowed her to succeed. By the way, two of our most revered photographers, Alfred Steigliz and Paul Strand were fourtunate enough to be born into families with means, which allowed them some freedom in persuing their art. Those of us without that kind of support, if motivated, seem to find a way.

[Bruce Watson]

Why not ask this question of a painter? a chef? a general contractor? an interior designer? an engineer? an architect?

What we bring to the party is our talent, our technical expertise, our experience, our organizational skills, our persistence, and our particular perception, and our vision. And of course, one of the things that sets us apart from the others is our willingness to go on location and be there when the light is right. In other words, our willingness to actually do the work.

While it's true that if I take you with me, show you what to shoot, frame and focus for you, pick the right filter for you, calculate your exposure, setup your camera for you, and tell you when to trip the shutter, you could take a shot just like the one I would take. Then if I processed the film for you, scanned it for you, applied photoshop corrections for you, researched the inks and papers for you, setup and linearized your printer for you, and setup your RIP for you, you could then push the print button and make a print just like mine.

But you weren't there, and I didn't do all that work for you, and you didn't trip the shutter or push the print button.

What I bring to the party (besides the talent, expertise, experience, perception, and vision) is doing all that work out in the cold and wet, so that you can sit happily by the fire, warm and cozy, and type things onto the photography forums while one of my prints decorates the wall opposite your computer ;-)

[John Cook]

My personal answer to this question is that it’s all about light. A photo-graph is literally a picture of the light, not of the physical objects in a scene.

Light has not simply quantity, but quality and character. A master photographer, by definition, must have a comprehensive understanding of the nature of light. It is his primary stock in trade.

An accomplished portraitist, using light alone, can add or subtract 20 years to/from the sitters age, 20 pounds to/from his weight and 20 points to/from his I.Q.

A food photographer can light a dish in a way that makes it look delicious. Green salads and the puddle of syrup and butter on pancakes, for example, are always lit with a 45-degree back light.

There is an unique form of light which will enhance black auto tires, beer, varnished wood furniture, silverware, lead crystal, or rough-textured fabric and leather. It takes a true master to light an object or scene which contains several of these different surfaces.

Outdoors, one must know what quality of light is required for a subject and when the conditions might be right for it to occur. My mild discomfort with the Zone System stems from a seeming misunderstanding by a few folks that less than optimum quality light on a given scene can be ignored, then completely fixed with heroic film development techniques.

Phil Cohen, one of the finest gentlemen I ever knew in photography, once gave me some advice for after I left art school. He said, "If you have only $1000 to invest in your first studio, buy a $100 camera and $900 worth of lights". That sentance was worth the entire cost of tuition.

I always wondered why photography stores don't display at least as much lighting equipment as cameras.

[David A. Goldfarb]

Good points, John. Regarding the Zone System, I agree that there is no substitute for good light, but I think of the Zone System as for light that can't be controlled. In the studio, where I can control contrast with artificial light, I almost always use normal development. For landscapes, one works with what one has, and the Zone System (or BTZS or whatever your favorite method) is another tool in the bag. While waiting for the "good" light, sometimes there are good photographs to be made by asking in the meanwhile, "what can I do with this light?"

[Alec Jones]

I think you're doing too much "wondering".

[Eric Z. Beard]

What one person can do, another can do. But just because you *can* do it, that doesn't mean you *will* do it.

Photography is all about choices. You choose to get up early and hike out to a nice spot. You choose each piece of equipment you use. You choose where to set up your tripod, how high to set it, what angle, shutter speed, arpeture. Do you wait another 5 seconds to trip the shutter or do it now while the wind is low?

Then you get to the darkroom and you have another array of choices. 5 1/2 minutes in the developer or 6? Bump the Shadow/Highlight slider one more notch to the right or leave it?

We make literally thousands of choices with each photograph that we take. The possible permutations on how you arrive at an image are nearly infinite, and the path to a truly strong image is quite narrow. I think what sets the masters apart is that they made just the right choice at each step of the process.

[Bruce Wehman]

Someone years ago told me that photography was “show business.” It was hard for me to believe at the time, because you had guys like Eugene Smith to refute any notion that photography was anything but serious. But today, with the death of Photojournalism, Photoshop, and the trend towards staged news events, yes, I see your point: The photographer is being pushed to the rear. We’re not alone. Writers, Painters and Musicians are experiencing much the same thing.

Those who use their art to support themselves usually sell out. Those with deep pockets are able stand for something, and very few are willing to starve for their convictions… ….show business.

[John Kasaian]

Interesting issue to contemplate over the first cup of coffee!

It sounds like commercial photography(which I know nothing about) is driven entirely by the the finished product...hey wait a minute...thats what many claim regarding photography in general: "The print is the thing." It dosen't matter if the print comes out of an Epson or a tray. If say, the print calls for a cloud then we can photoshop in a cloud(or in ancient times add a nice looking cloud in the dark room from stock negatives.) It sounds like with anorexic models, designers, stylists, art directors and technicians all contributing to "the print" the photographer, at least in this scenario dosent contribute much. Perhaps what the Photographer brings to the party is a reputation that clients are willing to pay for. I know of a guy who shot food but he worked by himself with an occasional assistant. He did everything from building the sets to lighting to developing 8x10 color in trays---he made incredible shots and was in demand among the local food processors. I'm guessing he brought more to the party.

I'm thinking about how all this plays with my own LF experience---it dosen't. I approach my landscapes like a hunter stalking game, scouting the terrain of an area, laying in wait, and siezing the shot. What do I bring to the party? A trophy to share---like a moosehead you see in a saloon or a well chewed rodent left at your doorstep by the nieghborhood cat. Does anyone pay attention or appreciate it? I don't know. The guy who shot the moose and the cat who caught the rodent thought their trophys were worthy to share. When I see a moosehead I think about majestic, huge animals in a far away places. When I see a well chewed rodent on my door mat I think about hunter's spark that drives ol' tabby to pounce on rats just like tose saber tooth tigers at the tar pits who hunting giant sloths, elk and camels in the ice age. What do I bring to the party? I don't rightly know--but it sure is fun! Time for a refill on the coffee. Thanks for making me think!

[Guy Boily]

John, I totally agree with your way of thinking. Light to me is everything. In early March I gave a conference and presentation on the Power of Light in Montreal. During the 1st half I strongly emphasized the importance of light in an image which has character. Of course getting that image was sometimes a challenge in itself but if you want more than just a photo of a place you have to make the effort. Speaking about the events leading up to the image made people aware of this effort. A photo of the scene with ordinary light was shown as I described it and then at the precise moment that special image with the magical light was projected and it was at that moment that the audience understood the Power of Light. Yes, anyone could have taken the same image but they would have had to visit the area 4, 10 or 20 times before everything would have fallen into place. I am not Ansel Adams but I do know what the right light does to an image. My goal is to photographe an emotion, a feeling and this is what I try to contribute to an image.
http://www.montrealcameraclub.com/pages/documents/cameragram_dec%2004_id%20.pdf
www.guyboily.com
Guy

[David Karp]

Exclusion. In other words, what we exclude from the frame is as important, or perhaps more important than what we include.

[MIke Sherck]

I think that the simple answer to your question is "vision and skill" but that may be too brief, so In My Arrogant Opinion, let me expand.

My guess would be that there are in excess of 1000 fashion photographers active at this moment in time. Maybe more -- maybe many more -- and maybe less, but let's take 1000 as an example. Of that 1000, how many will be remembered 20 years from now? 50 years from now? At the turn of the next century? When the calendar rolls over to the year 2200 and people trying to make a buck are putting together their equivalent of a book on "great photographers of the 21st century", who will be included? That fashion photographer you mentioned, will he/she be in there? Will -any- of the 1000 be in that book?

Probably not. They may be photographers but that doesn't automatically mean that they are good ones. We remember writers because of what they write and we remember photographers by their photographs. Yet there are thousands of books published every year and, on average, none of them are all that memorable. There may be tens of thousands of photographs presented to the average person each year and they may remember one or two. Yet, Weston has been dead for almost half a century now (he died a few months after I was born,) and I went to a show of 150 of his photographs a week ago last Thursday and was absolutely stunned. Paul Strand, Ansel Adams, Imogene Cunningham, Eugene Atget, Robert Doiseneau (?), and on and on. Do we remember their photographs because they were "lucky" happy-snappers or skilled marketers, or do we remember their photographs because they have an emotional/intellectual impact that forbids us from forgetting?

Anyone can take a pretty picture. Lots of folks do. You yourself said that was your goal -- pretty pictures to hang on your living room wall. Somewhere down the line your grandkids or great grandkids or... will come across one or more of those pictures. What will they say? "Nice barn," or "My, the sky was blue that day,"? Why is that?

In my arrogant opinion, it's because some photographers are better than other photographers. The better ones might get published, gallery exhibitions, etc. (I think there is an element of luck involved, as well as planning,) and maybe some of the not-so-better ones, too. But only the very best will live into the next century. One can market well, but in general people are neither stupid nor easily fooled for very long. Excellence lives; mediocrity dies. An unpopular notion, but Darwin had the right idea, I think. Crap disappears and the good stuff hangs around. Your rich happy-snapper may have bought herself a gallery show but I'll bet that's the last you hear about it. There was a story told by Bill Jay some years back, published in Lenswork magazine, wherein a newspaper in Great Britain had a staffer paint a picture and then took it around to several major art museums with the offer of a large cash donation if they would accept the painting. As I recall, one of the five places they took the still-wet painting rejected it, saying it was crap, while the other four gushed praise over it. They'd taken it to independent experts beforehand, just to make sure that it wasn't accidental genius, you understand, so the moral of the story was that "money talks" and that the art world is not deaf to its entreaties.

On another level of disengagement, I believe that one of the elements which makes a "great" artist (photographer, writer, painter, etc.) is that the great ones pour their passion -- their souls, if you will -- into their work in such a way that the audience can sense it. Perhaps this is a little too mystical in our modern age of measurement and skepticism, but nevertheless I think there's something to it. Someone else (I forget who,) said that the most effective communicators are the best listeners; maybe that has something to do with it.

For ruminations on the "why" of photography (and by extension, art,) I like to read Lenswork magazine. I don't agree with everything I read (that's the skepticism thing, rearing its ugly head,) but even the parts with which I disagree are interesting and make for wearying thought. If you haven't seen it, perhaps you should pick up a copy (check your local Borders or Barnes & Noble.)

[Ralph Barker]

What do we contribute, as photographers, to the picture? I'd say something between nothing and everything. While there are certainly good examples of the photographer being completely passive in the creation of the image(s), there are also good examples of him/her only seeming to be such to the casual observer.

For example, in the arena of commercial shoots, have you ever met an art director (the boss of the shoot) who could accurately describe what he or she wanted in the image without resorting to vague, flowery adjectives? In that sense, the (good) commercial photographer becomes the interpretor, or translator, creating an image that says what the AD couldn't quite describe. Mastery of lighting technique certainly plays a major role in the commercial photographer's ability to do that. The landscape person does essentially the same thing, although more passively, by selecting just the right time of year (season), weather, and time of day to press the shutter release, not to mention all of the elements that go into the selection of the ideal composition.

[Eric Biggerstaff]

Well, this is a tough one as it comes to motivation in my opinion.

As a photographer who enjoys the landscape I bring nothing to the image that is not already there. In fact, I could care less about the light - it is what it is and Iwill work with what I am given.

But then my motivation is not commerical, it is personal.

I photograph as much for the experience as anything else, the means is as important as the end. As I don't make my living from photography, I can walk away from an image and be as happy as if I took it becuase the experience of being there is the same. Creating a beautiful print is just a way for me to remember the experience and hopefully allow others to enjoy it as well.

In the examples you mention, the motivation is different than mine so each of those people bring a different set of priorities to play.

The documentarian may actually have a desire to help, she may not be as skilled a photographer as you but she may not care as her motivation is to commuicate a certain understanding of the world we live in.

The fashion and commecial photographers are of course faced with the delima of pleasing clients, so often their desire to create unique art is placed second to paying the bills. All the assistants, props, methods, etc. are there to get the product out the door fast and invoice the client, so their motivation is different than mine.

What a person brings ( or doesn't bring) to an activity is based on what motivates them in the first place. Adams was motivated to communicate to the larger world community the beauty of the environment we live in and to protect it ; while Minor White was motivated to use photography as a means of self exploration and self discovery. Both were master photographers, but their motivation was different.

So, what you and I and the rest on this forum brings to a photograph will be differnt from one another as we each of a different set of goals. The skills will be similar, we will use much of the same equipment, we will use darkrooms or computers - but we will all bring something different.

[Alan Davenport]

Dude, it sounds like you spent too much time indoors this winter.

[David Beal]

Guys, I'm never going to compete with the greats, but what I contribute is summed up in the catchphrase we use in marketing: "making tomorrow's memories by capturing today's happiness."

None of my shots are prize winners. A few are "Kodak moments." But for my clients, they're all memories.

That said, I'm going to go out Monday and capture some unhappiness. Some of our local Civil War re-enactors will have ceremonies around the area, and I want to be there.

Maybe that's part of what we contribute, too.

/s/ David

[Mark Sawyer]

When I photograph a landscape, I bring the intimacies of my artistic soul, which splays itself across the surface of the final print in manifestations nature might have dreamed of, but could not achieve on her own. Only my own creative vision can lovingly sprinkle the skies with dust spots and streaks of uneven development. My muddy highlights echo the muddied state of the human spirit, even as the loss of shadow detail speaks of the loss of the natural environment. And that vignetting in the corner because I screwed up the front tilt? That represents the dark influence of man encroaching...

[Will Strain]

Well - since some of the original query's were concerning commercial work - I'll throw in there.

In most situations I've been in the photographer contributes overall visual direction (in collaboration with the art director) - sets tone, and typically coordinates all the seperate parts of the shoot to make sure everybody does what is needed to get the shot. His expertise is there to train and oversee the assistants, to manage the client, to cajole the model (when necessary), and to pick the right moment to trip the shutter. I guess - in summary, he creates the circumstances necessary to get the right moment on film.

It is a job of communication - simplification - coordination - and of great personal joy. For me anyway.

Fine art - is a whole nother ball of wax, and requires some of the same, but also different skills and talents - you've got some great anwers in this thread. Thanks for the thought provoking post.

[Dan Jolicoeur]

This whole month of RAIN is getting to you too is it?

[Steve J Murray]

I think your answer is right there: it depends on how much of the creative decision making was contributed by the photographer.

The photographer, whether commercial or fine art, brings his or her own personal interpretation to the resulting image at many levels of the process from inception to final "product." That begins with the compositional choices, place/setting, time of day, lighting, film, shutter speed, camera/medium, moment of shutter release, etc. Then it may involve cropping, various image adjustments, printing medium selection, mounting, matting and framing. I believe each person approaching these tasks will produce a different end result, even if photographing the same thing. That person's personal vision/aesthetic will permeate through all the decisions made at each step. Its not always a conscious thing either.

The more of these decisions are made by other people, the less purely individual the end result, but not necessarily any more or less unique or creative.

[JohanHB]

"So, to repeat my question, just what is it that we as photographers contribute to the picture?"

Love and desire to make a photograph - whatever is needed to shoot it.

[Jonathan Brewer]

A monkey WILL come up with some masterpieces if you let him loose with a Nikon set at 5 fps, and he shoots long enough, in fact, two of the highest paid artists around were two Elephants, making big money, I decorated the wall that runs the length of my wifes business in Redondo Beach by dipping a paint brush in various colors and snapping it onto the wall, people want to know who she 'hired' to do the wall, I wasn't thinking of anything when I did it except that I'd get some interesting patterns when I curled my wrist to the right in my flicking motion, I bust out laughing when my wife has a client who starts talking about what it all means.

An individual work of art is one thing, a gifted artist who can produce something of value over and over and not just by accident is another, art is rife w/Charlatanism, and many of these Charlatans succeeed in making good money, it's just too much torture for someone who considers himself an artist(lived, ate, slept his craft/obsessive-compulsive) to lament over what he knows is total bullshit which in spite of being bullshit, makes money.

Then again, folks like Van Gogh and Rembrandt and numberous others stayed/died broke, so there's the comforting rationale that if no one knows you/your work, that that will change with time.
Life isn't fair and neither is Art.

I still haven't had it explained to me just what is artistic about a blank canvas sitting in a gallery for sale, I do wish I had thought of it first.

[Eric Leppanen]

I think part of the problem in quantifying a photographer's role is that there is an extremely fuzzy boundary between everyday practical photography (commerce, journalism, fashion, calendars, nature, etc.) and art. Practical photography (and the degree of contribution by the photographer) can be evaluated in terms of how well it fulfills its immediate objectives. True art just resonates with people, often in ways unanticipated by the artist. Trying to define what exactly causes this sometimes works and sometimes doesn't; frequently the only common denominator is that we know it when we see it.

Serendipity is a major part of the process. When Andrew Wyeth painted his iconic "Christina's World" he thought he was depicting a day-in-the-life of his neighbor lying in the grass in front of her house; he was absolutely amazed by the deeply emotional reaction the painting elicited in many people. St. Ansel knew "Moonrise" was going to be a special photograph, but he could not have known that it would be considered the iconic photograph of his career. Years ago when writing short stories I learned that my audience brought a complex history of experience and perceptions when they read my work, and could frequently head off in interpretative directions completely different from what I had intended. I could try to anticipate this to some small extent, but the end I could only be true to myself and my characters, and some stories would be popular, and others were not.

So in some ways the photographic artist is a facilitator, rendering a small portion of the world in a small moment in time so that it brings out the best in other human beings. I try to keep this in mind when I take my photographs. If I try to ponder the process more precisely than this, I usually succeed in only giving myself a headache.

[Jonathan Brewer]

Yes, Art sets folks off on thier own tangents.