Are Your Photos Taken or Made?

                                    Behind the Gare Saint-Lazare, by Henri Cartier-Bresson.

“Photos are not taken, they are made...”

This statement is mostly attributed to Ansel Adams, though I think he simply was the first really famous photographer to say it. Ansel went on to elaborate: his approach to photography was to carefully plan and execute the way in which the images he captured would ultimately express his impression of the scene. Therein lies the controversy of this statement.

There are those who feel that photography should be as objective a representation of reality as possible. They feel that photos are indeed taken, not made, and that the skill of the photographer comes in using his tools and experience to capture the moment as accurately as possible, with as little work being done after capture as possible. Anything more than minimal processing needed to ensure a technically suitable final image is considered altering reality. And photography, unlike painting, is intended to represent raw reality as much as possible.

So, which is best? Is it to put a lot of work into making a photograph that represents the photographer's impression of the scene? Or is it to put effort into presenting a scene as realistically as possible? It would seem these creative ideologies are in opposition. They are actually just two sides of the same coin, and that coin is planning.

The photo at the top of this page is “Behind the Gare Saint-Lazare”, one of Henri Cartier-Bresson's most famous images. It is the essence of his “decisive moment” philosophy of photography, where the most important aspect of an image is that instant in time which tells a story like no other. I don't want to go into too much analysis of this amazing image (things such as the leaping figure on the poster in back which many people fail to notice). I want to point out that as spontaneous as this photo appears, HCB put a lot of planning into it. (some even argue that he staged it, repeatedly asking the man to make his leap until HCB captured the decisive moment.)

Henri Cartier-Bresson based much of his ability to get the decisive moment on careful planning. He would pick locations carefully, sometimes scouting in advance of the time of day when the lighting would be best for the photo he wanted to capture. He would watch what was happening, seeing how human activity might ebb and flow over the course of time. Then he would pick the right location, angle, time of day and activity he wanted to capture, then wait for the decisive moment. (And yes, luck did play a part in his success at times.)

I point this out because I've notice that many of the “photos must reflect reality” folks tend to cite HCB as an inspiration for that, yet think he just walked around with his camera hoping that great photos would materialize in front of him. He seldom did that. Great street photographers seldom leave any more to chance than they have to.

They observe. They explore. They watch for patterns in both the static elements and in human behavior. They wait patiently. They plan ahead so that they are anticipating rather than reacting.

Question: How often do you just grab your camera and head out hoping to encounter suitable subjects, and depend as much on luck as on skill to capture good images? Not that there is anything wrong with a “photo walk”. It's just that it's not always the best way to get the best images at times. Some photographers will even scout certain locations without a camera, just observing things and seeing how the light changes during the course of time and how people move through the scene. Then they come back at the right time of day to capture the images they are seeking. (That's where luck starts to come into play.)

Try it. Try just taking a walk, without camera, through a park or section of town, taking the time to see how the light is, studying the best locations to shoot from and the most interesting angles. Then come back when the light is going to combine with the subject to get the best results. Above all, be patient. You might even have to come back repeatedly before you get “The Shot”. The Decisive Moment image that you can take great pride in.

Sure, this doesn't always work with certain subjects and situations. But I wager that if you do this more often, you'll find yourself spending less time editing out photos you just don't like, and more time making photos you really like display worthy.

Improving on Ansel Adams?

Ansel Adams's iconic "Moonrise, Hernandez New Mexico". No photo is perfect, but this image is a full a realization of Adams's vision for the scene as he could achieve. Yet some people think they can "improve" on this image.

Recently a regular on a popular photography website started a thread in which he attempted to “improve” Ansel Adams's iconic “Moonrise, Hernandez New Mexico”. He explained why he felt his version was better. All he did, really was crop with a narrower aspect ratio and cut out a portion of the sky. The result was a photo that in his mind was obviously better, inasmuch as it drew more attention to the town in the foreground and left the moon hanging in a smaller expanse of sky.

It also proved he had no real idea why the photo is considered one of the great masterpieces of 20^th Century photography.

Without going into too much detail, suffice it to say that the areas of “negative space” that cause the town itself to seem less of the subject, as well as isolating the moon itself, is a major reason the photo is considered a masterful work. (Adams actually tried different crops before settling on the final one we normally see.) Adams broke or stretched a number of accepted conventions of composition, which is why the photo stands out.

A short time later, on the same forum, someone else started a thread asking people if they had drawn any inspiration from Adams and other “old masters” of photography. For me, at least, it was no surprise to see a number of people sniff at the idea that they should take inspiration from Adams and others. That's fine, to a point: we all find some photographers and photographs to be inspirational, and others to be in styles we simply don't relate to.

What struck me is the reason some gave for their dismissing the importance of Adams and other masters of photography. They implied-or said outright-that they think Adams and others are overrated. That's an incredibly bold statement, especially coming from some people whose best work amounts to technically precise photos of their cats or gardens.

Lest people think I'm being some sort of photography snob, let me say a couple of things. First, I have various levels of skill and experience in a variety of creative media. In addition to photography, I'm also a musician (I play multiple instruments and attended Berklee College of Music); a writer and also have enough “connections” among painters and sculptures to understand the perspective on life being that sort of visual artist entails. Among these various disciplines, photography is the one that most invites “elitist artistes”: people who think they represent a much higher level of ability than they actually have, not only in producing their own work, but in critiquing the work of others.

I believe the reason for this is how “easy” it can be to get certain results, especially with today's digital imaging devices (not just dedicated cameras, but smartphones as well. The days of having to thoroughly understand exposure, focus, color, light/shadow and other technical aspects of photography are long gone. Technology allows people to produce images that are technically outstanding (at least in their own view). The ongoing problem with this is the conflation of technical quality with what actually makes for a truly attention grabbing or evocative image.

The forum in question is just one of dozens on a website devoted to digital photography gear, not the photographs themselves. That's the thing about photography, it's so gear driven that a given model of camera can, in a technical sense, provide “better” images than a different model. People can be impressed by the technical quality of otherwise mundane photos.

I see this all the time on various websites. Someone posts what they think is a really good portrait. Others immediately chime in about how sharp it is, how great the exposure is, etc. Meanwhile, I (and others) are noticing that the lighting is less than flattering. The pose is a bit awkward. The framing of the photos and placement of the subject are poor.

Being able to recognize these aesthetic/compositional flaws takes experience, and ideally a bit of training. It's a process of constantly learning and improving which is independent of, yet interwoven with, technical skills and the capability of gear. What I see is that many people pick up a decent camera, wanting to get “pro level results” the marketing folks promise, and settle at seeing sharper, better exposed images with “creamy bokeh” as a sign that they have reached a certain pinnacle as photographers.

At that point, it doesn't take much to nudge certain personality types into the realm of “The Elitist Artist”. These are people who have decided that since they really like their photos, and often have friends or relatives who think they are really good photographers, that they have earned a level of respect usually reserved for people who have actually garnered such accolades from skilled photographers and others who have the right experience in determining how “good” a photo is.

The idea of “good” photos takes a sometimes bizarre turn. People will lug out the old “I consider it art, so it is” argument commonly used to excuse a lack of genuine proficiency in producing images (whether photographic or other) that aren't nearly as “good” as the artiste thinks. That's because they use their own definition of “good”, rather than recognizing there is a consensus among skilled photographers, editors, collectors, critics and museum curators as to what sort of photo is worthy of putting in a magazine or on a gallery wall, and what isn't.

Often, what the experts note as making a photo stand out from the crowd can be subtle aspects that most people don't recognize or appreciate. It's not that the experts inherently smarter or better at analyzing photos. It's often just a matter of training and especially, experience. I recognize this in my own evolution as a photographer.

For many years, I didn't “get” the photos of Gary Winogrand, and certain other photographers whose work encompassed points of view and subtles I simply didn't recognize. Then I found a quote by Gary Winogrand:

“Photography is not about the thing photographed. It's about how that thing looks photographed”.

Yeah, took me a while to wrap my head around that. Then I examined my own thinking about what the purpose of a photograph, at least in how Winogrand was thinking, actually is. I had spent years in photography hoping to capture images that were as realistic as possible, or at least presented my perspective on a given subject. The assumption behind this thinking is that a photograph actually presents the world in a realistic way. In truth, it doesn't.

Fundamentally a photograph captures a finite moment in time, with a number of variables subjectively controlled by the photographer, of a world that is full of ongoing action and an infinite number of perspectives of any given subject or event. Sure, advances in 3D imaging allow for impressive images that can be rotated and viewed from a potentially infinite number of angles, but it's still a select moment in time, chosen subjectively by the photographer.

What I'm getting at is that for me, I “didn't get” a lot of photographs and photographers' styles because I was comparing the images to my intention if I were to photograph the same subject. That handicaps the ability to examine and appreciate a given photograph as a photograph, because the concentration is on whether or not the image presents the subject in a way we can appreciate or even understand.

That's why I think that the gentleman who tried to improve “Moonrise, Hernandez New Mexico” was missing the point of the photo to begin with. He was wanted to present the scene in a way he found matched his own aesthetic, where as Ansel Adams wanted to present the scene not only as he perceived it, but also how he felt is would look best as a photograph. Personally, coming to recognize this aspect of photographic composition (and to a certain extent, technique) not only led me to a greater appreciation of a number of photographs and photographers I didn't pay much attention to before, but it also has fueled some progress in my own photography.

The second thing I want to make sure is understood is that I do believe everyone is entitled to an opinion, and there will always be those who disagree with a given point of view. The thing is that not everyone's opinion carries equal weight when critiquing the artistic works of acknowledged masters. At times it's semantics: a person may say Adams is overrated when what he may actually mean is he doesn't find Adams's photos particularly appealing. Or he may simply not “get it”.

Still, there are those (as in the case of the forum threads I'm describing) that honestly think they have the critiquing skills to seriously say that Ansel Adams, and others, are overrated. When they say they “don't get it”, they are not admitting to their own limited understanding of what makes for great photographs. What they are saying is that they think those who “do get it” are somehow ill-informed or lack critiquing skills.

Sure, you'll find this in any creative medium. However, reaching such an attitude is, in my opinion, much easier in photography. A musician actually has to practice effectively for a certain amount of time to reach a skill level where others will actually be willing to listen to her play or sing. From there, a musician is expected to “pay dues” before gaining enough credibility to either question the ability of other musicians, or declare herself some sort of master who can offer authoritative criticism of other musicians.

Part of this is because even someone with no musical training or ability can recognize a bad musician. Playing a guitar like a hack, or singing off key, is recognizable by almost anyone. As I mentioned above, such is not the case with photography. Untrained or inexperienced people, accustom to the middling results they get with a smartphone with dirty lens or a cheap point and shoot, can be so impressed by the higher quality and smoother bokeh of a photos taken with even the cheapest interchangeable lens camera that they assume there was a great deal of skill involved. (Ironically, they also think the opposite: I frequently have people say that I must have a “really good camera” to get the results I do. I do , but others have similarly capable cameras and get much poorer results under the same circumstances.)

So, what am I getting at?

Several things. Don't let technical quality of photos fool others-or yourself-into thinking you're a better photographer than you really are. Be willing to look at and learn from photographs by those who are considered masters, or at least experts, even if you don't “get” the images right away. Don't go around talking (or posting online) with an attitude that surpasses your ability. Mostly, as I often say, just go out and enjoy taking photos of what you want, in the way you want. However, if you seriously want to improve your photography, think about what it is you want people viewing your photos to think and feel, beyond the ubiquitous “nice shot” praises. Avoid the pretentiousness of being an “Artiste” at all costs. Even Ansel Adams remained humble his entire life, and constantly cited other photographers that inspired him. No one is ever such a master that they can't keep learning and improving.