Motivations?

<p>What motivates your camera work? I find a mixture of motivations in my work. Many times over the years I was more interested in the equipment and techniques of my photography, than in the subjects and qualities of light falling on and reflecting from them. But when the subjects and/or unusual qualities of light drove the work, it seemed better. Now in a temporary dry time I find it difficult to tease out a compelling image from any scene. I wonder where the lack lies. Do you ever muse in these same directions, or is it just my own funk?</p>

<p>Howard, I think that one can run dry in photography as in all other artistic and intellectual pursuits. Sustained cold spells as a writer are especially troubling to me. I also read the bios of photographers here on Photo.net who say that they recently took up photography again after many years. Obviously some kind of passion went away, for whatever reason. One member of the community (I believe Dennis Jones) referred to working in an Olan Mills studio for many years--and how that killed his creative spirit for a very long time.</p>

<p>I think that what is really at stake here is the source of the creative impulse. Lately I have become more of a gearhead than I ever would have thought possible. I have learned a lot more about equipment, but so far it has not translated into better photos. Perhaps it will someday feed back in with better technical skills, but I am not even sure of that.</p>

<p>In any case, this is a fine question to ask. </p>

<p>I think that a corollary of it is this: do certain subjects motivate you in photography? One may even ask oneself, "Do I know my own motives for doing the kind of photography that I do, or for choosing the kinds of subjects that I choose, or the particular treatment that I employ when shooting those subjects?"</p>

<p>These are fine questions to ask. After I get my grades in, I want to come back to this thread, but, more than that, I want to find myself out in the field or in the mountains doing the kind of photography that once inspired me so much.</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

<p>Most often, I am motivated by what I want to express. That incorporates feelings, thoughts, the visual, the photographic, and even certain messages. I am also motivated by the subjects I work with, my desire for a (photographic) relationship with them and with a viewer. I may also let the <em>photograph itself </em>drive the work <br />. . . not technique or subject or even quality of light, though those things will certainly play various key roles. What I'm saying is that it may not always be about the raw materials themselves (subject, light, etc.) but about the process I go through to make those raw materials into a photograph. A visualization of the possibilities of any object/person/scene and its qualities and how that visualization translates to the medium of photography can be a motivating guiding light. Seeing/making the photograph, at all stages.</p>

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<p>A visualization of the possibilities of any object/person/scene and its qualities and how that visualization translates to the medium of photography can be a motivating guiding light. Seeing/making the photograph, at all stages.</p>

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<p>I think that Fred has put his finger on one absolutely central component of the creative impulse. Although the process of visualization might be triggered by first of all viewing a potential subject, what comes next is absolutely essential: one must visualize what one wants to do with that sujbect, or one like it. The artistic imagination begins first of all in the mind of the artist, after all, not in that of the viewer--unless the photographer has been inspired by what he or she has previously viewed in the work of another artist, which surely does happen very frequently.</p>

<p>In some cases the visualization comes before viewing the subject, and we might in such cases speak of "previsualizing," although I am not sure how often this actually occurs. Even when it does, we are surely carrying with us some image in our heads of something previously perceived--or at least I think that we are. I have to concede, however, that the truly creative idea seems to come almost fully conceived by the imagination, totally <em>a priori</em>. Whether that is possible or not, sometimes the particular take on the subject is something that transcends--or seems to transcend--all prior perception. In such instances the full impact of the artistic imagination is manifested in what seems to be a completely new idea. Where does <em>that</em> come from? Where, that is, does any<em> truly new idea </em>really come from?</p>

<p>This is interesting stuff with enormous implications for pure philosophy--an epistemology of esthetics, if you will.</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

<p> </p>

<p><em>"Even when it does, we are surely carrying with us some image in our heads of something previously perceived--or at least I think that we are. I have to concede, however, that the truly creative idea seems to come almost fully conceived by the imagination, totally </em>a priori<em>."</em><br /><em></em><br />The occasional glimpse of something <em>not</em> previously perceived is part of the joy <strong>I</strong> get from the process. I want to see something new. What is creative for me is not usually a fully-formed or complete idea. It is the process. I find <em>"a priori"</em> an unhelpful concept. To make a photograph, for me, is to act and to move. It is not a given. I may previsualize (and I may do that before I have a subject at hand or once I do have a subject at hand or even after I've taken the picture and am in the processing stage). But even then, I am making and changing, adding and subtracting, forming throughout the process. I am rarely simply executing a vision. I try to be inspired as I go. That's often when something fresh happens . . . the <em>unexpected</em> which I still take responsibility for.</p>

<p>I'm motivated by physical danger. The adrenaline rush makes the photo side of the brain operate in a super-clear way, the photo is what I see rather than the scene. Also, the fear propels me to the best shot I can make in a really short amount of time. If I'm "not feeling it," I just look for the most threatening situation I can find in the places I'm likely to shoot. </p>

<p>Alright, Fred, so it is in indeed a process. Even so, from whence comes the energy and imagination to keep that process going? Now we are back to the ontological/metaphysical question. . . .</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

Similar feeling as Jeff; engaging and snapping interesting people in a neighborhood others consider difficult. Time stands

still for a few moments and everything becomes very clear with respect and trust flowing in both directions. Makes you feel

alive...

<p><em>"from whence comes the energy and imagination to keep that process going?"</em></p>

<p>From my life, my experiences, and the world and people around me. I am born with some genetic predispositions but my imagination and energy are not determined <em>a priori</em>. They are things I develop and that are also developed and changed by circumstances. Again, for me, photography is a matter of taking responsibility. It's <em>my</em> freedom to make what I will. Creating a photograph, for me, is not about where creativity began. It's about what I do to craft the photograph. I start in the midst of things, which is where I am found. For me, it's neither an ontological nor a metaphysical question. It's a question of how I do it.</p>

<p>Thanks, Fred, Landrum, Jeff and Brad. I think you're all putting your finger on creative process in unique but related ways. (Some of your comments could also apply to my work as a writer.) After reading all of your responses I'm now aware of a perceptual lapse in myself. It might be related to situational stress, seasonal allergies, aging, or all of them together. I'll be vacationing in the Black Hills in a month. The change of place, relaxation and new stimulation of camping in that environment (during storms/tornado season!) might stir up something. -Til then, I'm going to relax and not worry... </p>

<p>Howard,<br>

Obviously, vacations are the ideal time for quality time with the camera :-)<br>

I like Brad's description a lot:</p>

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<p>Time stands still for a few moments and everything becomes very clear with respect and trust flowing in both directions. Makes you feel alive...</p>

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<p>though I am rarely looking for dangerous situations. I'm just looking. But with the intense viewing, things take on different appearances, different meanings, different contexts; and a better understanding of what I'm looking at (whatever it is). It helps as a weird constant reminder of seeing things from more than one viewpoints (which stretches well beyond photography, obviously). I find it contemplative - the moment where in the viewfinder it all adds up, times does stand still and I do sense a clarity for sure.<br>

Where I, however, find a serious amount of motivation is in the reviewing afterwards. See if what I envisioned succeeded, and if not, why (technically / composition / wrong light etc.). Can I do again better, did I miss a chance? And I also find motivation in the notion that some things are happening easier now, previsualising, more instantly finding an angle that suits me better etc. So, becoming somewhat better inspires me the most at the moment. Chewing on the question on why my attempts at portraits all seem to fail is a big drive to keep trying and get an idea where I fail.</p>

<p>Plenty days when it just won't come, though. Mind stays closed, and the photos turn out routine simple stuff that doesn't move me. And the next day, I'll just try again, and sometimes strike gold. It just comes and goes (yeah, I'm clearly not a pro - cannot deliver consistently). And if it takes too long to flow back tome, the gearhead wins and I'll buy some new old lens and be childish happy with it and playing for a while... can't kill the boy inside :-)</p>

<p>Thanks for this question. We often discuss here what drove us to make a picture, but less what drives us to make the <em>next</em> picture. The answers so far are, to me, all very close to the love for this hobby/work, and a desire to express creatively; it makes a nice experience to read.</p>

<p> <em>"Can I do again better, did I miss a chance?"...</em>Wouter W</p>

<p>Something usually feels incomplete after I make a photograph. So I try again.</p>

<p>For me it's a mystery where the motivation comes from, which is frustrating. Sometimes it's there, sometimes it's not. I have found that it has helped me to switch to a radically different tool, in my case from a dslr to an old folding camera, then a 645 medium format camera, to refresh me and get me thinking in a new way. I can leave past failures behind and just try something new. I think what I'm learning will help me when I eventually return to digital.<br>

Also, I guess it's a matter of continuing, even without inspiration, knowing that eventually inspiration will come. The only way to the next interesting place on the path is to continue down the path, not to get off the path, I guess.</p>

<p>For me it's somewhat compulsive. If I see something that my eyes find beautiful or interesting I feel compelled to photograph it. I feel compelled to share the image with people (family, friends, colleagues) who couldn't be there to see that moment. I want the photo to capture the scene well enough to give them a sense of what it was like to be there.</p>

<p>I also enjoy looking at my photos. I like to flip back to them occasionally. Even the goof-ups have some meaning to me. I can remember what I was trying to accomplish, and I gain understanding as I figure out why it didn't work.</p>

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<p>I'm motivated by physical danger. The adrenaline rush makes the photo side of the brain operate in a super-clear way, the photo is what I see rather than the scene. Also, the fear propels me to the best shot I can make in a really short amount of time. If I'm "not feeling it," I just look for the most threatening situation I can find in the places I'm likely to shoot.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>That's very interesting as Edmund Burke's philisophical work on the sublime and beautiful makes the distinction that the sublime requires astonishment, and "...astonishment is that state of the soul in which all its motions are suspended, with some degree of horror." And further, "No passion so effectually robs the mind of all its powers of acting and reasoning as terror; and whatever is terrible with regard to sight, is sublime."</p>

<p>Eh. That's it. Horror and promise of escape.</p>

<p>I'm with Dan: to capture and document interesting things I see. This includes landscapes, people, objects, etc. I'm not much into photographing people in the street as a candid observer, or voyeur. I'll photograph a stranger, but I want them to know what I am doing so I can get their "look." I want a relationship even if it lasts only 1/30 of a second. Its the energy of the thing. People are beautiful in all forms. The human face is enormously expressive and wonderful. </p>

<p>There's a philosophical edge to mine. My favorite subject is dancers. Dance, by its nature, exists in four dimensions. It requires both space and time. Photography, by its nature, exists in two dimensions. I love the challenge of expressing the four-dimensional dynamic nature of dance in the two-dimensional limits of photography.</p>

<p>For me, photography is an important way to affirm one's sense of individuality. A photographer might "cover the same ground" as other photographers do by working with the genre of street photography or self-portraiture, but demonstrate that they possess the ability to produce notably different resultant imagery. The results that I get don't necessarily win awards or inspire awe in photography critics, but they do affirm (at least to myself) that I see that world as an individual and not as a sycophant to some "great photographer" or some person that is more prominent in the artistic or political community.</p>

<p>I'm motivated to develop the craft (because I'm nowhere near yet to it being art) to a level at which, finally, I will be able to express myself. That is to say I'm not good enough yet to have that kind of mastery, and am driven by the challenge of making my ideas flow more naturally into my camera-work.</p>

<p>I'm motivated by a desire to do something different to my professional life, which allows me to see the world differently and to look for - and at - things that I otherwise wouldn't.</p>

<p>I am also motivated by the gear. I get a basic enjoyment from owning and using quality equipment, even if my use of it is awfully crude (this is also true of my collection of guitars compared to my standard of playing). And I have no shame in admitting that part of this enjoyment is pondering on what I want next.</p>

<p>My primary motivation used to be entertaining myself, personal friends and workmates, partly through a form of photographic (and written...) sarcasm... :) Mission well and truly accomplished there, so I ditched that on a high note. </p>

<p>Currently I just use a little pocket camera to record light levels. My interest there is that the resulting pictures help to remind me how things looked like at a given time. Quite handy sometimes.</p>

<p >When I was a kid the motive was to make my Agfa Box camera to work with some film because primarily I wanted to take a photo of my grand-mother.</p>

<p >When I was presented with a Beyerette-Ludwig “RF” camera the motive was to capture all the important moments in my everyday life.</p>

<p >When I got my first SLR the motive was to see how the telephoto frame looks like.</p>

<p >Since then, it was in 1975, when the things started to get serious between photography and myself, the sole motivation has been to read and record the world around me on film trying to express myself through this procedure which every time concluded with the final prints.</p>

<p >Therefore the continuous search for alternative ways to photograph my subjects along those lines, has always been the main motivation. Experimenting with light, form, geometry and composition and printinfg have been the ingredients of that.</p>

<p >My friends and fellow photographers usually say that my photos are abysmal, very dark, moody, something like tenebrism in painting. I think they exaggerate. Probably some of that is true but not necessarily bad. It seems that sometimes my way of interpretation of the semiology of my subjects is out of the norms. Probably I have my own point of view to state. But this the most beautiful thing of all; to accept a well documented critique and have some serious grounds on which to elaborate on that different point of view of mine. This is also a strong motivation. </p>

<p >Another motive which must not get unnoticed is trying new cameras, lenses and formats which offer the capability of a fresh or different approach to things.</p>

<p >When the times are getting “dry” I usually print and I am checking my back log and take pretty but meaningless pictures just to keep my hands on the camera. I recommend it. Now with digital this kind of pleasant nonsense comes for free. You will be surprised how often you get new ideas out of this play.</p>

<p >When you get yourself in that sinking feeling on your couch with the pillows to get a deeper pit all the time, I recommend watching some good movies on the DVD player and study the frames of each scene.</p>

<p >Primarily I shoot for fun and self fulfillment. If you have fun do it, if not, leave it and go fishing or go for a meditation over a couple of drinks or anyway do something else.<br>

For the concerned photographer the inspiration is there, but it hides itself from time to time. Don't worry just keep in touch and it will come back.<br>

Dimitris V. Georgopoulos<br>

Athens, Greece </p>

<p>For me, photography is a self-motivating activity. I love wandering about, regardless of the location, shooting photographs. The more I wander, the more I want. </p>

<p>In the work environment, life is nothing but doing the bidding of others for the benefit of others. And outside of work, life is nothing but constant consumption.</p>

<p>Photography is like work of sorts, although unpaid, allowing me to do something and build something for myself rather than for some greedy corporation. Of course, photography is also a personal leisurely pursuit, and allows me to have fun through creation, rather than endless consumption.</p>

<p>Photography in a Western society is both an alternative to being a worker, but also an alternative to being a consumer. That's why i like it.</p>

<p>Sometimes I just want to document and tell a story. Other times, the artsy part of me comes out more and I explore that. But there is rarely a time when I don't want to be capturing something. My wife and I go for evening walks often, and I always bring the camera bag. Sometimes it doesn't come out of the bag, but occasionally I see something cool to shoot and I get a nice keeper. Photography is something I just HAVE to do, and it's become part of who I am more and more. <br>

I am always looking to express something in a unique way, while documenting everyday life. When I get in a slump I go out in the yard and shoot bugs, or try to capture something around the house in an unusual way. The fun and challenging part to me is to get the capture "just right" technically, while creating something beyond the typical dull snapshot.</p>