Friday, July 07, 2006

Some Things Are Worth Photographing and some...


I think there are things that are not worth photographing and if you think about it you can save some time and frustration. For example, no matter how good a sunset picture you get, wouldn't you rather have been standing there watching the sunset? Pictures of grand canyon look lovely, but standing on the edge of the canyon has to be more thrilling, no matter how many pixels you used, no matter what size film you recorded it with. To be fair, the wonderful lighting that happens so seldom isn't available to most of us when we visit so recording it to show what you missed is I think relevent, but I would argue we'd still wish we were there during that wonderful lighting and the image is a pale shadow of the real thing.

On the other hand, and to flog an old story again - who would rather have Edward Weston's actual pepper # 30 vs. the image he made of it? The image is so much more than the vegetable. People have visited the spots that Ansel shot in Yosemite and been disappointed that the real thing wasn't nearly as gorgeous as the image.

The image above of ADM Flour Mill is I think more interesting than the silos it records. It's been published twice and sells well, yet I don't see lines of cars driving past the flour mill to get a glimpse of the silos.

Does make you think about what to photograph and what is the point of your photographing. Hmmn...

3 comments:

G Dan Mitchell said...

Hi:

"no matter how good a sunset picture you get, wouldn't you rather have been standing there watching the sunset? Pictures of grand canyon look lovely, but standing on the edge of the canyon has to be more thrilling, no matter how many pixels you used, no matter what size film you recorded it with"

You must be careful how far you go with this argument.

Wouldn't this argument apply equally to photographs of people? Wouldn't you agree that being with the real living, breathing person is better than having a photo of that person? But wouldn't you also agree that there are fine and powerful examples of photographic art in the form of portraits?

For me, a landscape is hardly less dynamic than the face of a person. Contrary to the notion that a landscape is fixed and static (or at least changes very slowly), many photographers - and other careful observers - will tell you that things change so fast that sometimes you cannot work fast enough to capture them.

I don't mean to characterize this example as "great" landscape photography, but the image at the following URL existed for only perhaps five seconds: http://www.gdanmitchell.com/2005/08/17#a75.

And another image (http://www.gdanmitchell.com/2006/04/06#a384) was taken shortly after dawn in extraordinarily windy conditions, with cloud shadows blowing across the playa at perhaps 40 mph or more. Even if I could go to this 50 more times (not likely, as it is a 1000 mile round trip, with 60 miles of it on a dirt track) I don't think that I'll see this instant again.

Now I agree that in both cases being there was an astonishing experience that I would love to repeat many times. But no matter how many times I'm there I won't see these moments again.

A good landscape photograph (as differentiated from yet another snapshot of the grand canyon) can capture something deep and compelling about the place, and most often something as fleeting as an expression on the face of a person being photographed.

A good landscape photo can also reveal existing balances of form, color, and so on that are not as visible when one sees the "real" landscape rather than the "abstract" landscape as presented as a photo.

(I will confess that, as a backpacking photographer, I do sympathize from time to time with the desire to just look and not photograph. And not carry all that photo gear.)

Thanks,

Dan

George Barr said...

Dan:

you raise an interesting point about photographing people - I think my 'rule' does break down there although if the comparison was one of simply looking at the sitter and not being able to talk to them and interact, perhaps the analogy holds up. The Arnold Newman image of Stavinsky at the piano is I think a lot more interesting than standing next to Stravinsky in the grocery store line up and discussing the price of broccolli (or not talking to him at all).

I like your two images and neither strikes me as a 'wish you were here' image. That said, I don't think the viewer gives a toot how many miles you had to drive or what the road conditions were or how windy it was - those only mean something to you (and it is very reasonable that the images would mean a lot to you).

If we talk about your 'racetrack' image, I note you didn't just stand at eye height and snap away, you got down low, you arranged your position to line up the rocks in an interesting pattern, you arranged the background and you recorded an interesting sky. You could argue the sky was luck but perhaps if the sky had been boring, you wouldn't have shown us the image so I still credit you with 'arranging it'. You recorded in black and white which is a deliberate step away from being a simple recordist, and you did it in a way that records a full range of tones to make a rich looking image. That of course begs the question of whether one would rather have the photograph or be there. It's hard to compare since they are quite different experiences and I suspect you have shown us something that most people standing in the area would not hav seen.

G Dan Mitchell said...

George:

Two things...

1. As I read what you write about the Racetrack Playa image, it sounds like we perhaps aren't as far apart as I would have thought. I don't think either of us think that "snapshot of pretty place" equals "landscape photography." (By the way, if you had been there I don't think you would have seen whatever it is you see in my photograph of the place.)

2. It is an astounding coincidence that you also thought of using a photograph of Stravinsky as your example. As I wrote my message I was thinking of another photograph of Stravinsky - this one a series of three taken by Richard Avedon. (p 712 of "A History of Photography," Taschen). In the three panels, we see Stravinsky as an old man, but the subtle change from the first image (on the left) to the third (on the right) as Stavinsky's eyes rise to gaze directly into the camera is remarkable. And, as much as it is a wonderful set of images of this particular composer, I think that Avedon's photographs would "work" as well had they been of nearly any man.

(As a musician and photographer, however, I think I'd take the opportunity to stand in line with Stravinsky at the grocery store - even to discuss brocolli! - over the opportunity to see the photos!)

Dan