Ambiguity

<p>Wouter and Charles, much appreciate your last posts.</p>

<p>Wouter, agree with you that we can't leave biases at the door. Also agree that some degree of objectivity, standing back from our usual perspective/bias to whatever extent we can, might be a good thing. For me, art is kind of symbiotic relationship between my own tastes, my own imagination, and my ability to empathize with something outside me that's also going on. If I constantly assert my own self into my interpretations and insist that "the viewer is always right" then I feel guilty of selfishness or at least self-centeredness. I much rather my experience of art have a sharing quality to it, which means getting outside myself when and if I can. That's the severe limitation, in my view, of "beauty is in the eye of the beholder." Maybe not, maybe it's in the eye of the artist and I, the beholder, am being led to see it by the eye of another. And, yes, to that continually-changing relationship between viewer and photo. Those are the keepers, the ones that change and grow over time. The more stagnant ones tend to be the less memorable and the less inspiring.</p>

<p>Charles, very good point about there not having to be a conflict, even among quite different interpretations. Along those lines, we can think of arts such as theater and classical music, which each rely on interpretation for their being experienced. While I may have my favorite interpretations of a play or piece of music, some simply exist as equally-satisfying and enlightening manifestations of the works. I can think of four productions of Romeo and Juliet I've seen, each one making me richer as a viewer and finding things to emphasize in the play that hit upon something very special. And, I'd imagine Shakespeare would approve of them all. But, having said that, I think sometimes reasonable conflicts can and should arise, again getting back to that not every viewer's viewing is equal or as developed or mature as it could be. So, I think arguments about interpretation (and taste) can and should arise. It deepens the experience, the passion, and the understanding. Fact is, some interpretations are simply wrong or at least not supported. Yes, maybe "wrong" is too severe. So "unsupportable" would be better. When it comes from a place purely personal and can't be supported by reference to the photo itself, there's certainly validity to one's being struck that way, but there's also grounds for others to question just how carefully one is looking at the photo and just how empathetic to another's vision and voice one is being.</p>

<p>I meant conflict as in a competition such as a race. Conflict is too strong a word for my intended purpose. I wanted to dramatize the intensity I feel when I work at choosing exactly the best point of view, but I can't decide which one to pick. NASCAR example: All the cars look good and the race isn't over yet.</p>

 

<blockquote>

<p>That is, is literary/verbal storytelling different from photographic/visual storytelling and can the instinct to interpret ambiguities in a photo actually mean missing some of the unique experience that is visual ambiguity?</p>

</blockquote>

<p>Sorry Fred. I had no idea that I would offend you personally. Some possible interpretations or stories made of things are best kept to oneself. Apparently some of the unique experience of visual ambiguity is actually worth missing!</p>

<p>For my part - No harm - no foul.</p>

<blockquote>

<p>Sorry Fred. I had no idea that I would offend you personally.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>Albert, not sure what you mean. You haven't offended me in any way. I think this is a great discussion.</p>

<p>Competing interpretations. I like that. So pulling a couple ideas together with Albert's: Ambiguity in a photograph results from a competition between equally convincing points of view that might make sense of the same thing, each competing point of view finding support in image elements, photographer body of work, etc. I think that definition works whether the interpretation is of a literal story, manifest content, or of meaning, values, metaphor, etc.</p>

<p>Charles, why <em>equally</em> competing? Isn't there still ambiguity, perhaps sometimes even more ambiguity, when one interpretation seems to pull you more but another sort of nags at you from behind?</p>

<p>And, I'm still not sure "interpretation" is necessary. Seems to me I've walked away from effective/challenging/haunting photos saying "I don't know what to make of that?"</p>

<p>Is there a difference between understanding and interpretation? I think there is an aspect of interpretation that draws conclusions from what we understand. "Take an umbrella with you." If I pick up the folded thing in the corner with the black nylon partially covering the hooked wooden handle, I have understood what you've directed me to do. If I go on to think you're telling me this because you care about me, love me, think I'm stupid and would otherwise get wet, etc., etc., I'm interpreting what you've said.</p>

<p>I'm not sure ambiguity needs to be interpreted just as I'm not sure everything we read or hear that we understand needs to be interpreted, though it's pretty hard not to. It may help, as a viewer of photos, to be aware of what we've interpreted vs. what we've understood. Ambiguity, of course, can arise from conflicting understandings or even a lack thereof.</p>

<p>That's equally convincing, not equally competing. Equally convincing parses out unconvincing meanings. And it's equally convincing points of view, not interpretations, where point of view is meant more broadly than interpretations. Ambiguity is defined as understood in more than one way, having more than one possible meaning, so interpretation, meaning is necessary in identifying expressions that either are or aren't ambiguous. The expression "Take an umbrella with you" is unambiguously in the imperative case and someone taking an umbrella as instructed is compliant behavior which also is unambiguous. (The expression "Take something with you" is ambiguous, subject to more than one point of view about what the something might be.) The order is unambiguous, it's instruction. An examination of the mind giving the instruction: I wouldn't call that an interpretation of the order, rather, it's an examination of the reasons behind the order, not an interpretation of the order, the order having been expressed clearly, not subject to interpretation, not able to be understood as something other than commanding a specified act. The question of why the command is not a question about the command itself, not an interpretation of the order itself.</p>

<p>I usually just lurk in this forum because the conversations generally get more involved than I'm comfortable with, but since I made the initial comment on the POW that inspired Fred's question, I'll comment.</p>

<p>I do not think ambiguity necessarily makes a photo any more or less compelling, nor do I think a story must be completed for a photo to be appreciated and enjoyed, but I do find that coming up with interpretations is simply fun. It's ok to have fun with photography, right? When my kids were young, we'd play a game in the car where someone would start a story, and each of us would add to it. No two stories were alike, though my older son had some sort of fascination with a little boy fishing, and would always work that in somehow. I was applying the same sort of thinking to the photo. Given the POWs don't generate much discussion, I thought perhaps going down a path where viewers offered their own interpretations might generate some conversation. I was wrong. Personally though, I don't know how anyone could view a photo that has some ambiguity and NOT wonder what's behind it. It's like trying to make your mind blank. At the very least, you're thinking about making it blank. </p>

<p>And Marc, my guess would be the older couple just had an argument, probably about sex or money. Is there anything else to argue about?</p>

<p>Bill, what if the story were this: There's an anonymous person inside a taxi cab on an alley at night and there's a bride out there, which is very curious, since I don't know why in the world a bride would be out there like this. How strange? And how wonderfully strange . . . maybe, if it were a better photo, IMO.</p>

<p>What if, instead of asking what the hypothetical story is that would fill in the blanks, we asked something like, why did the photographer take this picture? What about what's there and what's not there makes it, at least in the mind of the photographer, a compelling picture to have taken and one to share with others? Aside from the narrative, what are some things I'm seeing that could substitute for literal thoughts about what is happening . . . light, dark, texture, perspective. This may not be a great photo to do all this with, because there's not much there there, as has been said.</p>

<p>What if we take Weston's pepper? Do I wonder which store he bought the pepper at and what dish he's going to prepare with it after he takes the picture? Or one of Brassai's prostitutes on a nighttime foggy Paris street. Do I wonder how much she just charged for her services or whether she came out of a hotel or an apartment (assuming I can't see which it was) or do I feel something with her in the dampness of the lonely night? And, no, it doesn't have to be either/or.</p>

<p>When I'm in the car with kids, I think it's great fun to make up stories as you've talked about. The world is at our fingertips and anything goes. When I'm looking at a photo, I feel some responsibility to the photographer in terms of trying to connect the type of story I will tell myself to the photo itself. And it will be perfectly OK for me to observe unknowns and allow them to remain unknowns, as those unknowns AS unknowns can be key characters in the story, the kind of story that doesn't have all the details filled in and where not knowing things makes me see a situation differently than if I did know or had to guess.</p>

<p>Fred,</p>

<p>There are two different concepts being addressed - what was in the mind of the photographer, and what is in the mind of the subjects (well, unless you are talking about a pepper, in which case it probably wasn't thinking much). I see no harm in addressing either or both. I also think each of those can lend to the enjoyment of a photograph. What did Weston see in the pepper? What is the aesthetic appeal to me as the viewer. Sometimes things are just enjoyable to look at. In the case of the bride picture, perhaps it doesn't appeal as much aesthetically (though I rather like it), but appeals instead in its ability to tell a story. I think it's very similar to most street photography, which typically makes you wonder (or it does me anyway), when people are the subject, what their story is.</p>

<p>That's not to say you cannot simply enjoy the aesthetic or the feel of an image, but I just find it impossible to look at an image like that bride an not wonder what's behind it.</p>

 

<blockquote>

<p>And it will be perfectly OK for me to observe unknowns and allow them to remain unknowns</p>

</blockquote>

<p>I can allow them to remain unknowns as well, but not before I try to determine what they might be.</p>

<p>Bill, got it, and thanks for going deeper into it.</p>

<p>Further complicating things is that there's not only what's in the mind of the photographer and the subjects, there's what the photo shows, which can be different. This is why sometimes, even though we took the picture, a viewer can point something out we hadn't considered that rings true in the photo. That's because, like I said earlier, by isolating a scene or subject from its context and putting a frame around that little portion of the world, what we see can become (photographically) something very different from what it was. So, actually, sometimes our own minds (as photographers and as viewers) can limit us, especially when we know things about the situation when the photo was taken. We tend to line the facts of the original situation up with the photo. If we don't know what the situation was, we just see something photographic and that may look very different and be very different from what was actually happening at the time. This is why a photo has such transformative capabilities, even though it originally depended on the world for its raw materials. And it's why too much concern for what was happening at the time can prevent us from seeing all the possibilities in the actual photo before us, which is in many cases NOT what was happening at the time and not even ABOUT what was happening at the time. As a photo, it can sometimes be a very new reality, usually related to the original situation but often severed from it and very often no longer dependent on it.</p>

<blockquote>

<p>There's an anonymous person inside a taxi cab on an alley at night and there's a bride out there, which is very curious, since I don't know why in the world a bride would be out there like this. How strange? And how wonderfully strange . . . maybe, if it were a better photo, IMO.<br /> What if, instead of asking what the hypothetical story is that would fill in the blanks, we asked something like, why did the photographer take this picture? What about what's there and what's not there makes it, at least in the mind of the photographer, a compelling picture to have taken and one to share with others?</p>

</blockquote>

<p>Fred, you're asking questions that don't have sensible answers. How can you tell the difference from the photograph alone between a model in a bride's costume and a bona-fide bride? Either could be used to create the same picture. To enter the original photographer's mind you have to talk with him directly. Nothing else will do as well.</p>

<p>Unknowns? You don't get much of a choice on this one. Something can't be both known and unknown at the same time.</p>

<p>But this is where story-making comes into play. I think that the importance of myth in our lives has been underestimated in the onslaught of the scientific method of inquiry. The lesson that everything has an explanation that humans can find, understand and prove is widespread. Yet one can find a belief in a story that makes sense in the very canons of science. Darwin wrote that the creatures on the Galapagos islands had reached a perfect stasis. Things changing over time is one thing, but how can you look around you and conclude that you are enjoying perfect harmony? That is the notion that there is no need for things to change any more. Things are always in flux. Nevertheless I have to admit that there is a great comfort in simply accepting the 19th Century myth that a perfect balance in nature is not only possible, but it exists right now in the natural world. Myth is a valuable tool for filling in the gaps in our minds as we try to explain what drives the world around us even in the sophisticated times we live in now.</p>

<p>I think Fred is encouraging people who look at photographs to explore the same kind of myth building, but without quite presenting it as such.</p>

<blockquote>

<p>How can you tell the difference from the photograph alone between a model in a bride's costume and a bona-fide bride?</p>

</blockquote>

<p>You can't. I agree. But then again, when I see a woman dressed like this on the street, I wouldn't know either, unless I had some objective way of knowing for sure. So, on that level, there's nothing uniquely photographic about that kind of ambiguity. Still, though, I wouldn't need to ask the photographer if it was a bride or someone posing, though that might be interesting to learn. I can see it as "a bride in a photograph" and "a bride in a photograph" to me means that, if I can't tell for sure, it could be either a bride or someone dressed up as one. Either way, the garb is a visual symbol of a bride and that becomes part of the meaning of the photo. Now, the photo would be a lot more interesting to me if the photographer gave me some reason in the photo for doubting whether it was a real bride, other than that I can never be sure of anything in life. If the photographer provided some clues that it could be someone posing but I still wasn't sure, that would be a kind of intentional ambiguity I could get behind, if it were well done. </p>

<blockquote>

<p>To enter the original photographer's mind you have to talk with him directly. Nothing else will do as well.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>I don't find this to be true. I think many photographers actually give you more information about their minds and hearts in their work than they do in what they say about it. We all do that to some degree. I think of how much more I learn from people's actions than from what they tell me. Often what they tell me obscures who they are and their actions reveal more truth. Photographing and putting together a body of work is a significant human action which can tell me a lot about a person.</p>

<blockquote>

<p>Fred, you're asking questions that don't have sensible answers.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>I don't think I am. When I ask why the photographer took the picture, I mean, why would someone, anyone, take this picture. Why has this picture been taken? What's significant about it? There ought to be some clues in the photo, and with good photography there often are. It's an empathetic kind of question. To me, it's so much of what art's all about. And it doesn't need a personal or verbal response. A lot of the why's can be found right there in the photo.<br>

<br>

___________________________________<br>

<br>

I love your foray into myth and think it's probably worthy of a thread sometime if you'd ever care to craft an OP on the topic. It's important and thanks for bringing it up!</p>

 

<blockquote>

<p>And it's why too much concern for what was happening at the time can prevent us from seeing all the possibilities in the actual photo before us, which is in many cases NOT what was happening at the time and not even ABOUT what was happening at the time.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>Agreed. But the original discussion dealt specifically with the ambiguity of a shot, and details within the shot are not generally ambiguous, unless I'm reading you incorrectly. The ambiguity comes in the storyline, and I don't think we lose or dismiss anything by trying to interpret it, though as you noted, you might miss other details if you concentrate only on that.</p>

<p>Fred,</p>

<p>Thank you for the compliment on my use of myth. I've never been an OP on this forum before. You have no idea of what you could be letting out of the bottle!</p>

 

<blockquote>

<p>Either way, the garb is a visual symbol of a bride and that becomes part of the meaning of the photo. Now, the photo would be a lot more interesting to me if the photographer gave me some reason in the photo for doubting whether it was a real bride, other than that I can never be sure of anything in life.</p>

</blockquote>

<p> <br>

It's all in how you look at it. Consider the following captions for the photo.<br>

</p>

<blockquote>

<p>OMG! Where's the groom?!!</p>

</blockquote>

<p> </p>

<blockquote>

<p>Limousine! You call this a limousine?</p>

</blockquote>

<p> </p>

<blockquote>

<p>Its the story of my life. I was supposed to offer the PM a bribe not a bride!!</p>

</blockquote>

<p> </p>

<blockquote>

<p>Hugo! - I wouldn't have believed it. You really ARE late to your own wedding!</p>

</blockquote>

<p>I'm afraid that I have not done so well in finding serious meanings hidden in the picture. This photograph is merely a starting point for my mind to play with. I couldn't say that any of my captions respect the actual intent of the photographer. Well, it's my mind after all. If I'm going to interpret things for myself, then, to paraphrase Admiral Farragut, "Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!"</p>

<p>Albert</p>

 

<blockquote>

<p>I couldn't say that any of my captions respect the actual intent of the photographer. Well, it's my mind after all. If I'm going to interpret things<br /> for myself . . .</p>

</blockquote>

<p>Voila! I think you've come to the crux of my own question and the reason I started this thread. The thing gnawing at me is to what extent looking at photos (and finding meaning in them) is done by and for myself and to what extent it's a more empathetic, cultural, historical, social, and communal project. The extent probably varies from photo to photo and from viewing to viewing. I'm guided by a tension/harmony/dialogue of sorts. On one hand, thinking and caring about the photographer's sensibility, wanting to adopt or at least involve myself with his point of view . . . through his photo and to the extent possible. On the other hand, wanting to experience my own very personal feelings that are inspired by the photo. If I didn't feel like I was getting an intimate look into someone else's head and heart, I'm not sure why I'd bother to look at other people's photos and would probably stick to just making my own.</p>

<p>Photography, for me, even when I'm alone as photographer or as viewer, is not a solo sport. And even though I may never know <em>for sure</em> (there's beauty and energy in this lack of certainty) what someone else intended, it's rewarding to me to feel an intimate connection through a photo to <em>someone else</em> and to <em>someone else's</em> feelings, point of view, narrative, vision, and potential meanings.</p>

<p>I think photos are both private and public. There's a balancing act that I experience between the personal and the simultaneously often universal or at least cultural aspects of art. Interpretations that assert only half the picture usually, for me, fall short.</p>

<p>_______________________________________</p>

<p>"Moonlight" is a name given the famous sonata by an overly-romantic and sappy critic a few years after Beethoven's death. Unfortunately, it has stuck. Beethoven, at the first printing of the score, gave the less subjective and less specifically picturesque title "Sonata quasi una fantasia" (in the manner of a fantasy). It seems important to me to know this, in assessing the more popular title. Most students of music learn to dismiss "Moonlight" early on, because it's merely one man's literal accompaniment to the music and, more importantly, it doesn't represent either what Beethoven or the music actually has to offer in a much broader manner of speaking than one individual's take on things.</p>

<p>I think that the series of jokes illustrates the strength of an opinion once it is formed. The mind seems to operate a little like a guided missile in making conclusions about objects around us such as a photograph. The mantra seems to be seek, identify and lock in. Fred pointed out in the beginning that once an impression is formed it can be very difficult to see beyond it to form another one. His concern is the quest for added meaning, perhaps sometime more significant than we understand at present.</p>

<p>I think that it is fair to say that our brains are comfortable sifting out the personal relevance of millions of objects and people that surround us every day. Do I eat it? Does it want to eat me? Do I go there? Do I avoid it? And so forth on and on all the time. A strong conclusion satisfies the mind by bringing closure. - There's nothing more here so on to the next thing! </p>

<p>If one of my funny captions strikes home, then you may find that it is meaning enough. This gets into real life issues such as how do you know that the current impression tells you all you need to know about a thing? Stereotyping is a likely concern somewhere in the direction our discussion might take. </p>

<p>Rolling back to our bride at the taxi, it seems legitimate to ask how well the photo presents something we would be concerned about in real life? Genuine concern and interest motivate many conversations with people and exploration of interests. We show caring this way. The question would be, what clue is there in a photo like the one at hand that would lead you suspect that you might be missing something when you make an opinion of it? </p>

<p>This question seems to have been close to the heart of the matter. My caption transforms the photo into an experience my brains records with my reaction to it. This is as personal as it gets. A strong bond satisfies my mind that I know enough about it. It is tough to unlearn one perspective to gain another. </p>

<p> </p>

<blockquote>

<p>The mind seems to operate a little like a guided missile in making conclusions about objects around us such as a photograph. The mantra seems to be seek, identify and lock in. Fred pointed out in the beginning that once an impression is formed it can be very difficult to see beyond it to form another one. His concern is the quest for added meaning, perhaps sometime more significant than we understand at present.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>Thanks, Albert, for a really good summation. Maybe we need to start the thread over again and address ways in which this quest can be undertaken. I think such a journey will affect not just our looking at photos but making significant photos as well. My suggestion was to question our own initial and more personally-relevant interpretations as a means of broadening the meanings we take away. Something else I've done is to pretend to like what I initially don't like. It has often led to my discovery of new points of view and meanings. <br /> <br /> You bring up something very important . . . clues. They're important and the taxi/bride photo lacks them, IMO. Well, actually there are plenty of clues, but no really meaningful ones, which leads to that lack of <em>caring</em> you are talking about. Any of Bill's interpretations, because of this lack of meaning and care, are equally appealing and also equally unappealing. That's not a kind of ambiguity I want to be involved with. The kind of ambiguity that would challenge and fulfill me might not have a definite answer, but I would get the sense that whatever answer/s I came up with would matter in some important way and would unlock something about the photo itself.<br /> <br /> OK, Albert, three new OPs for you to ponder: CARE, CLUES, MYTH. You've got your work cut out for you! :-)</p>

<p>It's challenging to come into this discussion after it has been going on for so long, and after so many different aspects and side avenues have been commented upon.</p>

<p>My first thoughts upon reading Fred's post were essentially the same as Brad's comments below:</p>

<p> </p>

<blockquote>

<p>Photos that are complete and appear to "answer" all questions are not very interesting to me. And… Not only do I appreciate viewing photos where ambiguity is a major element, I usually strive to make photos with that in mind, to help suggest a narrative for a viewer. That can be any narrative, not necessarily one I may have had in mind (sometimes I'll have nothing in mind).</p>

</blockquote>

<p>I can't speak for Brad, but for me, the “sometimes I'll have nothing in mind” aspect comes into play primarily because the large majority of my photographs are taken in the streets of Chicago and its older collar suburbs. But is there truly “nothing in mind”? I think Fred touched upon this later in the discussion, not speaking specifically about Brad's comment, but questioning in general the value of ambiguity which arises out of no thought, aim, or intention. I have a very specific intention when I walk down the street with my camera but it is difficult to put into words (verbalization: another aspect of ambiguity that has been touched upon in this thread). The best way I could explain it would be to point to the one or two photos out of 50, or 100, or 300 that I might take and point to it and say, “Here, out of all these photographs, this one displays the kind of ambiguity and – (style, tone, atmosphere, light, feeling) – that I set out to find.”</p>

<p>And, of course, the reaction to that one photograph that I point to could vary widely depending upon the viewer. “I don't get it.” “Nothing is happening, it's a random snap.” “Ah...contemporary alienation and social vacuity is expressed here in the way that bla, bla, bla, bla bla...” “Nice tones/light/atmosphere.” “This makes me sad/amused/curious.” “When I saw the thumbnail I knew it was your photograph.” And so on and so forth....</p>

<p>But I don't want to limit my comments only to photographs taken in the street. Ambiguity, of a good sort (and I'm sorry, but I cannot define that, it is too subjective and contingent upon personal taste, experience, and the work to which a given individual has been exposed), can and does exist in almost all photographic genres.</p>

<p>Alas, I must go off to work. I had wanted to explore some of the other aspects that came up: ambiguity and its relationship to interpretation; ambiguity and myth (I like that one, Albert...”Myth” deserves its own thread).</p>

<p>I've gotten hopelessly lost in this thread a few pages back. All photographs are infused with ambiguity to one extent or another (it's just a nature of the medium) and how an individual reacts and processes it differs greatly. OK then, so what? If a photographer is so concerned with this to the point that they feel it to be necessary to change their whole working methods in order to produce work that as many people as possible will understand it, then who is in control? Look, I can stand in front of a Jackson Pollack drip painting and be utterly mesmerized while there are other people who will just see paint splattered on a canvass. Again, I ask "So What?" That doesn't make me any more intelligent, sophisticated or what have you. All works of art once they enter the public realm have to stand on their own. Some people will get it, others will not. I think it's a very dangerous and slippery slope for an artist to be concerned with such things. </p>

<p>Steve, what came to mind reading your post is how my having nothing particular in mind when taking a shot, which happens, doesn't necessarily translate to a thoughtless photo. I think you come up with thoughtful photos (and they don't all have to be thoughtful, there are other qualities as important if not more important) because you're generally a thoughtful person, as evidenced in your posts on PN and in your blog and in our various conversations. Thoughtfulness, I think, can become instinctual and one's shooting can bear it out even when one is acting at that more instinctual level. I've said a lot that I do a lot of my thinking in the shower and laying awake in bed at night. That gets infused into my work later on, sort of by human osmosis. It's kind of like photography itself. Because we're framing an isolated part of the universe and often removing it from its "factual" context, the photo may have a very different meaning/interpretation from the meaning of the situation at the time of taking it. Likewise our mental state. What gets implanted in the photo will often be different from what we were or weren't thinking about at the moment of snapping the shutter. Now, on the other hand, I take many decisively thoughtful shots as well, where I think about what I'm doing as I'm doing it, or at least in the moments leading up to snapping the shutter. That can work, too.</p>

<p>_________________________________________</p>

<p>Marc, I'm not getting what the danger would be and where the slippery slope would lead for a photographer to think about and discuss ambiguity. And I would want to draw a distinction between "concern" (which may have a negative bias) and care. Are we, in this thread, expressing a concern with it or just an interest in it? Very often, it is thought that issues we discuss here are things bothering us or concerning or worrying us. Maybe the things we discuss here are actually inspiring us and talking about them sorts them out a bit and is a means of sharing experiences with others and furthering our individual endeavors with photography.</p>

<blockquote>

<p>If a photographer is so concerned with this to the point that they feel it to be necessary to change their whole working methods in order to produce work that as many people as possible will understand it, then who is in control?</p>

</blockquote>

<p>I'm not sure why you say this. Do you think anyone in this thread has expressed "concern" to this dysfunctional a level? It seems a bit extreme. My guess is that most of us here have realized a long time ago that NOT everyone will understand or even care about our work. If everyone did, it would likely be the type of pop pablum most of us don't like and that can be found on the top-rated photos pages of PN. The more commercial photographers are probably concerned with having more universal appeal (though even much commercial art is made for a targeted audience). The more independent photographers probably realize the limited audience for their work.</p>

>>> But is there truly “nothing in mind”?<P>

 

Sure. Many times there's something odd in the distance that I think could make a nice WTF moment

when captured and processed. When I captured this photo I don't remember giving any thought to potential released

narratives. <P>

 

<center>

.<P>

<img src= "http://citysnaps.net/2014%20Photos/Lunch.jpg"><BR>

<i>

San Francisco • ©Brad Evans 2014

</i>

<P>

.<P>

</center>

<blockquote>Sure. Many times there's something odd in the distance that I think could make a nice WTF moment when captured and processed. When I captured this photo I don't remember giving any thought to potential released narratives.</blockquote>

<p>Brad, yes! And the photo you displayed has a lovely ambiguity to it (to say nothing of it's geometric elements)...that very "wtf!?"" to which you refer. My point was that I think there IS something in mind. I can relate to seeing something, saying "wtf!?", and photographing it. I very rarely take a photograph with the thought of releasing a narrative unless I am working on a specific documentary project (some of the Balkan dance and culture projects I worked on were like that) and even then I can't fully control what a given viewer will ultimately make of it. But when shooting in the street, maybe all I have in mind is an attempt to photograph something interesting. </p>

<p>Marc -- I think you have a point that every photograph has a certain ambiguity to it. But I think there are degrees. A tack sharp image of a bird with a fish in its talons can be said to have ambiguity, but the ambiguity is more along the lines of "where was this taken?", "where did the bird go?", etc. The point of the photo, however, is pretty much wrapped up in the tack sharp portrayal of the moment with the fish in its talons. I think Fred is talking about a different type of ambiguity, but then that's silly to say because I know you already know that, and I don't want to put words in Fred's mouth.</p>

<p>Fred -- I only mentioned the link between thought and ambiguity because I think it's a valid consideration, not as something that had to be defended. Nor did I think you intended it as a criticism, even in a general way. I was just thinking on my feet as I was writing, trying to figure out what, if any, thought attaches itself to my own process of capturing an unfolding moment on the street. What I did not do, is follow through on the notion that someone could justify any random group of photographs they take as being brilliant on the basis of their ambiguity -- and in that process fool themselves. Sometimes the thought comes in the editing. And there are situations where I have very specific thoughts in mind -- as in attending a rehearsal of a Balkan folk troupe and intentionally placing myself in a certain position to catch a close up of legs and feet performing a particular step that I think could be interesting. But this starts to wander into intention, rather than ambiguity and I fear I am getting a bit lost here!! </p>

>>> My point was that I think there IS something in mind.

 

Thanks, Steve... There were things considered. Many times when shooting on the street I try and capture supporting

context, more so with stranger portraits. In the above photo though, I purposely composed and timed to minimize context. Otherwise viewers would

have understood what was going on and the photo would not have been interesting. In other words,

purposely withholding information can drive ambiguity. And ambiguity can stir viewer imagination. By

supplying all or most of the answers (via surrounding context) that would not have been the case.

<p>Fred, I guess it all comes down to how much of a persons identity is wrapped up in their being a photographer or an "artist." I see many photographers who give me the impression that approval from others is the over riding motivation for their work. I see some very cliched work that always gets a lot of approval because it's safe, predictable and non-challenging for both the photographer as well as for an apparently large number of like minded folks. When such photographers start down this path, I guess it's just too addicting for them to grow beyond this and start doing more risky, personal work but I keep hoping to see something different from them. I've mentioned before the various forums that I visit and it's been a real eye-opener to follow the critiques and see really how a cross section of people view a particular photograph and some of the (in my mind) preposterous stretches some may make in their gushing over a mediocre photograph.</p>

<p> </p>

Marc, I think you just have to push aside all of the noise and do what you love doing. Energy much better

spent than worrying about what happens to others.