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Philosophy and Photography


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<p>I don't assign a lot of value to "compositions" or newness, but would if I wanted to sell to magazines. </p>

<p>Most of my photos for the past few years have been self-assignments that began with "if" :</p>

<p>"If I wander from here into seeming nowhere I'll find evidence of someone else's wandering, and I'll know why they wandered." "If I drive to the limits of my patience (or half a tank of gas), something will appear that'll justify a photo...and it'll be significant...and then I'll turn back home." "If I ask this couple for their portrait, and if I do right, I'll produce an image reflecting what I anticipated, but didn't necessarily see, when I asked."</p>

<p>Those may be after-the-fact rationalizations, but each "if" felt like the front end of a very confident hypothesis. As well, I could have written a short reflection on each one. In fact I did.</p>

 

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<p>I do, too, John. There's a recognition of both the hypothetical and the tangible . . . If I do this, then something will appear . . . If I do this, then I'll produce that.</p>

<p>Also wrapped up in this is a recognition of consequence. Such a recognition has value.</p>

We didn't need dialogue. We had faces!
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<p> <strong>Fred</strong>, we get to know the nuances of each other's language by successive approximations. I wasn't sure whether I hadn't made myself clear.</p>

<p>Good thoughts, <strong>John. </strong>The "ifs" are sometimes all the reason one needs. This may seem a little crazy, but if I see a chair out of a bunch that someone pulled off to the side, I'll often go and sit there, just to see what made them move it, similar to John's knowing why someone wandered to where he's found their tracks.</p>

<p> Yes, <strong>Phylo</strong>, the life we'd otherwise have lived (whatever that is!). It reminds me a little of Lange's quote about photography training one to see <em>without </em>the camera.</p>

<p> </p>

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<p>Luis, the beauty of "if" is the tension it creates, which refers to the potential of enjoyable released. A fishing fly in the water. I'd much prefer some of that tension than total release. It may eventually release badly in some way, but it's also the place from which all of the good stuff springs. Bland "perfect-pretty" photos waste life when one inadvertantly hesitates over them,or, worse, pursues them. As you well know, a little snobbery is a virtue.</p>

<p> </p>

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<p>I am very much enjoying this thread and hope I don't disturb it too much by making a mildly dissenting remark on a portion of Fred's comment at 11:43 a.m. yesterday. He said, in part:</p>

 

<blockquote>

<p>" Many of the critiques I read on PN seem to consist of just those kinds of checklists. ... someone came along and told him exactly what to do to "make his photographs better." It read like a laundry-list of academic expectations . . . just what you're talking about . . . what would get him into a gallery. I've often asked the question, on the critique pages here: Are we critiquing toward a given standard, toward what WE want to see, or toward some kind of creation of another photographer who could perhaps surprise us in some way?"</p>

</blockquote>

<p>While I agree with the criticism, I just want to make sure that it is understood (and I believe Fred meant) the last sentence to be encouraging, not disparaging.</p>

<p>Almost everybody on photo.net is learning how to look at pictures as well as how to take them. I think we should be as gentle or at least as tolerant of, first the cruder attempts at knowingness that seem to inevitably follow perfect innocence -- that occur before one has developed awareness of one's own responses/judgement and has learned not to parrot (types of) responses they've seen posted by others. I know that Fred knows this -- I've seen him caring for and encouraging independent thinking in critiques, but I wanted to say it explicitly here so the quoted comment didn't ding some innocent bystander.</p>

<p> </p>

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<p>Julie, early on I was in a small critique group here on PN. I suggested that an important part of the process was talking about the way we critique each other. I got so much resistance on that that the group broke up fairly quickly (for other reasons, some of them my own fault, as well). Perhaps because it's so fundamental, I have felt more resistance to discussions about seeing and learning to see than about photographing and learning to photograph. Also, to be fair, any chance of really helpful critique takes a lot of time and energy. For me, it would ideally begin with questions, not direction. A critique that provides guidance and stimulation rather than advice and specifics, suggests a path rather than offering a goal, takes some back and forth between viewer and photographer and takes discovering intent, of the photographer more than the critic.</p>

<p>At the foundation of most studies of Philosophy are questions about seeing. Is what I see real? Is what I see similar to or the same as what you see? Can what I see be trusted? What's more important, what I see or what I think I see or what I think about what I see? What's more important (Plato asks), what I see or what I know?</p>

<p>Does a photograph capture the world as it is is not a new question. It started in Philosophy 101 with the difference between appearance and reality, what the senses sense and what's actually "out there." Philosophy and photography are sympathetic at least in their interest in seeing and seeming.</p>

We didn't need dialogue. We had faces!
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<p>Just brief remarks, before going further in depth into the matter:</p>

<ol>

<li>Visual communication has hardly anything to do with checklists. There are rules, and they are there to be broken (knowingly and consciously).</li>

<li>I disagree with this attitude to "make a photo good" by post processing. Post processing can be part of the photographic process, according to ones (craft) preferences, but it cannot "save" a photo or turn a bad one into a good one.</li>

<li>I fully subscribe that "the way we critique" is extremely important, to avoid "wows" but also the mentioned checklists.</li>

</ol>

 

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<p><strong>Julie "</strong>Luca, your #2 is circular reasoning. (If post processing turns a bad photo into a good one, it wasn't a bad photo.)"</p>

<p> BBBbut...wouldn't it have been <em>temporarily </em>bad until fixed? :-)</p>

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<p><em>"(If post processing turns a bad photo into a good one, it wasn't a bad photo.)"</em></p>

<p>It wouldn't have even been the photo yet. It's not a photo until I say it's a photo (regarding my photos). In that, I am in sync with Julie.</p>

<p>OK, let's face this post-processing thing head on.</p>

<p>I'm sure John Kelly won't mind my telling you that he sent me a link last night to an<a href="http://www.archive.org/details/gd67-04-xx.prefm.vernon.9261.sbeok.shnf"> interview with Jerry Garcia and Phil Lesh of the Grateful Dead</a> and said that it "addressed post processing." I know, and Jerry and Phil obviously know, what he's talking about when he says "post processing." Putting together an album is very much making music . . . and there's a lot more to it than playing instruments. One of the key things Phil Lesh says is that these are recordings, NOT transcriptions.</p>

<p>Oh, yes, post processing can make or break a photo: I've done it simply with a creative crop! I'm sure Jerry and Phil created some gems with levels adjustments, balance control, color changes, and even a bit of stitching. Post processing is a matter of discovering <em>and revealing</em> the genius already there and not just making something better than it was. (It's not a direct analogy to how photographs function, but there are enough similarities.) I've listened to un-remixed bootleg tapes of the Grateful Dead many times and heard something lousy. Only when the remixed version has come out of a decent studio do I hear great music. For me, a RAW file is simply a potential. Jerry and Phil seemed to think in terms of two different mediums, or at least two different delivery systems. They weren't trying to imitate in the studio what they had done on stage. They thought of it as its own process and musical form.</p>

<p>That sounds familiar. There are endless discussions in various forums about whether we're photographing to capture reality. The answer seems to come from these two musicians. It's not reality, it's a photograph. Or, in their case, a recording.</p>

<p>For me, the significant question of post processing is not whether it can improve something bad or bring out the goodness that was always there but not available yet, it's how that part of the process affects every other part of the process. I went out last night so I couldn't listen to the interview right away, but as I was driving to a friend's house, I thought some about my days listening to the Grateful Dead. Though their best period was arguably in the late 60s / early 70s, another heyday was between 1974 and 1977 when they were traveling with their famous <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wall_of_Sound_(Grateful_Dead)">Wall of Sound</a>. Here's what it <a href="http://www.audiojunkies.com/blog/730/an-insiders-look-at-the-grateful-deads-wall-of-sound">looked like</a>. I heard it at venues from Hartford, CT to Santa Barbara, CA. The sound was stunning. So, coincidentally, was the music. They were notably inspired by that wall of sound, the delivery system they were using, the intermediary between their instruments and the audience and even what they themselves heard, the bit of "post processing" that was immediately being done (AND GIVING THEM SIMULTANEOUS FEEDBACK) to their music.</p>

<p>I thought about my own post processing as something which gives me feedback and inspires me. I <em>take</em> better pictures because I post process. Post processing inspires me, helps me learn to look for and to see, and enables me to hone my skill of seeing things of significance, in RAW file images and when I'm out shooting. The excitement of a post processing discovery or a vision I conjure up there stays with me into subsequent shoots and affects how I see with my camera. While I don't fully understand shooting for the print (as John has talked about), I understand more what it is to shoot, to expose, even to compose for post processing (whether it be just a little or a whole lot of post processing). There are frequent times I expose NOT to get the best picture I can out of the camera, but to get the best EXPOSURE I can for what I intend to do with the file later. In that case, when do I have the photograph?</p>

<p>For me, post processing is not an improvement mechanism. It's another layer of paint on the canvas.</p>

We didn't need dialogue. We had faces!
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<p>[<em>Nodding in agreement with Fred. You can't get the latent image into view without processing</em>.]</p>

<p><strong>Luis</strong>,</p>

<p>"... until fixed ..."<br>

Think of the image as an embryonic chicken inside of an egg sitting exactly in the middle of the road between the double yellow lines with heavy traffic both ways ...</p>

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<p>I still owe an answer to the question on page 2...Not to interrupt on the merits of post-processing (though I can be short there: post-processing is often enough a must - to get the black and white I frequently prefer).</p>

 

<blockquote>

<p>Wouter, are there any concrete examples, visually or descriptive, of how your photography has changed directions? What does a change of (philosophical) direction look like?</p>

</blockquote>

<p>It's fairly simply visible, but for seemingly unphilosophical reasons. About a year ago I moved from a village near nature in wet, gloomy, grey and overly organised Netherlands to a city in southern Italy, bathing in sun, rather unorganised and culturally sufficiently different Italy. This being my first adventure as 'expat', it's an eye-opener in many ways, and it has overthrown quite some of the beliefs I held. Meaning, philosophically, I am very much on the move, and much more searching for a new equilibrium than I was before in the Netherlands; more aware of life's inpredictability and its limits to its make-ability (if that's a word?). Less organised, maybe more organic but in a rough way mostly. Hence, discovery and exploration.<br>

The photography changed with it; from a dominantly landscape/nature photographer to one that searches much more for a style, for a view on the surroundings I am in, watching it with a different view, as it passes my lens.<br>

My website may be a bit too chaotic to see the differences, but my portofolio here on p.net has 2 albums that will illustrate the difference: <a>Dutch nature</a> (very typical for my average Dutch photos), and <a href="../photodb/folder?folder_id=949413">Fairly random photos</a> (all taken on Sicily). The Dutch photos seek a quietness, stillness and emptiness, the Italian photos are typically empty in other ways and, to me, seem to have a different texture and feel. Less smooth, in a way.<br>

<em>(Note: it's kind of a difficult question to answer, it's not all philosophy of course, though to seperate philosophy from life's experiences is not very doable for me) </em></p>

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<p><strong>Julie - "</strong>Think of the image as an embryonic chicken inside of an egg sitting exactly in the middle of the road between the double yellow lines with heavy traffic both ways ..."</p>

<p> Schroedinger's chicken embryo? Already trying to cross the road. Geez... my head hurts!</p>

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<blockquote>

<p>Post processing is a matter of discovering <em>and revealing</em> the genius already there and not just making something better than it was.<br>

For me, post processing is not an improvement mechanism. It's another layer of paint on the canvas. (<strong>Fred Goldsmith Aug 07, 2010; 01:16 p.m.</strong>)</p>

</blockquote>

<p>That was what I meant but apparently did not manage to express.<br>

L.</p>

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<p>A bad photograph is seldom made good by post processing, but a good photograph can be made better or at least made more as the photographer wishes it (imagines it) to be but could not initially make it so at exposure. Modifying light and contrast, removing unwanted elements or reframing can often achieve an aim that the initial exposure did not fully provide. </p>

<p>All this, however, has little to do with philosophy and photography.</p>

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<p>Arthur, taken four years ago, I consider the first example above a lousy (bad/horrible) image. The exposure is off. I was working with colored, low lighting and had no idea how to deal with it. The colors are atrocious and stuff continues to look awful when it's first converted to black and white. I didn't have much of a clue about a lot. Could I not envision a place to take it in post, I would have dumped it. I stayed with the grit and played with some Japanese approaches and still love what I came up with. I just finished making a really nice print of it. You may disagree with the fact that either it was a bad image to begin with or it's a good photograph now. But that's absolutely my experience . . . and it's not the only case of it for me. I try not to do that often, as I've learned exposure and am getting a little better all the time with visualization.</p>

<p>This has been from start to finish a wonderful thread. I really appreciate everyone's participation and thoughts. It's just the kind of thread I look for and, from where I sit, it has everything to do with philosophy and photography, thinking and craft. It's too bad you don't think so.</p>

We didn't need dialogue. We had faces!
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<p>I have read this, as so many other recent threads in this forum, with interest by with little to contribute.<br>

One of the contributions above which I below quote at some length, stroke me as especially interesting. Julie wrote:</p>

 

<blockquote>

<p>Now, to go all serious for a minute (getting on my soapbox), for me, the act of photographing, without regard to what I do or don't achieve in/with my photographs, the act of <em>going and looking</em> FOR ITS OWN SAKE, has a profound effect on my sense of myself and, I like to think, on that of everybody who works at photography as an avocation. It is my belief that we not only become more -- what are good words? receptive, open, genuine, available, <em>more conscious</em> -- than we would otherwise be. And that's the granular, quotidian foundation for a democratic society. Before freedom of speech, you need the act of freedom of looking. Not only does this change my philosophy of the society that I live in, I think it serves as an example for those non-photograhers who see us out and about all the time, everywhere. Looking, seeing, knowing.</p>

 

</blockquote>

<p>I can hundred procreant subscribe to this formulation of what photography is, what it does to us and our way of shooting. However, the observation leads, I believe, in another direction than the one that is most present in this forum. It does not lead to an introspection of the act of photography, but to the role of photography in society (the VIEWER) and our role as photographers.<br /> Reference has been made above to the old classics of philosophy and our shared experiences when first reading them. I think personally, in line with what Julie expressed so well, that the real inspiring academic readings that changed my way of "seeing" the world and making photography were writers and scientists that surely were based on the mentioned philosophical readings, but translated them into approaches and methods for understanding and acting in the world and not (only) understanding themselves (in the world or in some cases as free flying individuals).<br>

<br /> Namedropping is seldomly clarifying (Husserl, Heidegger, Merleau-Ponty and especially Alfred Schütz of Phenomenology) but sometimes necessary (Garfinkel, Chomski, Cicourel, Sudnov on the Ethnomethology) but I will leave that aside here apart from those mentioned. These social science "schools" and writings have taught many of us to see the world and especially to understand and interpret images.</p>

<p>So, when this thread poses the question of the relation between philosophy and photography, I would personally immediately broaden it and include "social sciences and photography" because this is where I personally have found inspiration and I also believe it is where the greatest impact on photography and the act of shooting photos has happened for many.</p>

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<p>Anders,</p>

<p>I missed Julie's comment and agree with you that it does resume what a lot of us feel when photographing, and what photography does for us in making us both more alert and reflective persons. The influence of the social sciences and their teachings, even to a layman like myself, are no doubt important in fashioning our approach to the craft and our understanding of its best products.</p>

<p>Fred,</p>

<p>I read only a part of what preceded my comment about the relation between post processing and philosophy because I was more interested in the relation between photography, per se, and philosophy, and felt that the discussion was better in that sense than in the specific craft aspect of nuts and bolts of post processing, or the latter versus initial capture.</p>

<p>The importance for me in regard to your OT is the relationship of two things that do not specifically relate to post-processing, namely (1) the initial capture and philosophy - how they relate, and how the photographer's approach relates to philosophy, and (2), the image itself and its relation to philosophy, whether the image and philosophy is seen from the photographer's viewpoint or from that of a viewer other than the photographer. The making of photos is much like speech. Once you know the mechanism of those communications, you may or may not use them to discuss philosophy (to simply document, or anything else). Those for me are the important things in reference to your OT, and not whether post processing makes a good or bad image.</p>

<p>Having said that, I like how your image becomes better in transferring it to another medium, black and white. As I normally use black and white film for black and white images, this is not normally a post processing condition for me, but simply a choice of media, as going from oils to chalk or aquarelle.</p>

<p>The great advantage of B&W is how it allows powerful chiaroscuro effects in a more convincing manner than does color (normally, as there are some exceptions to this I think). The problem with color is that the chiaroscuro effects are obfuscated or overpowered by the often distracting chromatic range, whereas B&W is more harmonious or singly determined in its effect, through the use of the simple gray scale.</p>

<p>You might try B&W film, sometime, as it makes one think in B&W as well as having to live within its limitations of latitude and rendition.</p>

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<p>Arthur, I don't use film. I don't use the b/w camera setting because shooting in color allows me more latitude in converting the file (utilizing individual color channels). Were I to use the b/w setting, it would be the camera's software making my decisions.</p>

<p>As I said, since my post processing affects the nature and quality of my "initial capture," the post and capture are intertwined. That's philosophy and craft.</p>

<p>It wasn't in the transfer to black and white that the photo became "better" or "good." As I said, it was just as lousy when I initially converted it to b/w. It took more than the conversion to get it somewhere and it wasn't just in the nature of black and white. It was in what I did with it. Decisions. Making. <em>I</em> am responsible, not the "medium." Today, being more inclined toward and adept at it, I might have come up with something in color.</p>

<p>Photography <em>per se </em>includes post processing. Pianists on the night of a performance may run through pieces on a silent keyboard. It helps focus, aids memory, isolates and de-materializes. But they then go out on stage and make sounds (John Cage's <em><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/4′33″">4'33"</a></em> is an exception). I "silently practice" with my camera, not processing a lot of stuff. But I like to look, just as pianists like to listen. I wouldn't normally leave the image as a homage to philosophy on the unprocessed negative or languishing on the CF card. What the picture looks like and why it looks like it does is as much a part of photography <em>per se</em>, and philosophy, as why I tripped the shutter.</p>

We didn't need dialogue. We had faces!
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<p><strong>"Michael, are any of your photographs related to that essential element of dialogue? Does dialogue play into your approach to making photographs? Are its effects at all apparent, either literally or metaphorically?"</strong></p>

<p>Fred: Dialogue plays a key role in my photography. There is the obvious back and forth involving independent observers. This is the context in which the effects tend to be more literal. I take in the feedback I've received and, to the extent I have accepted it, I apply it to subsequent work. </p>

<p>But, for me, the more significant dialogue is internal, and it occurs on several levels - emotional, intellectual, and intuitive. This is the context in which the effects are metaphorical. I tend to feel the best about a photograph when I my experience in viewing it is a sense of being at one with it. And I cannot at all explain what that means. </p>

<p> </p>

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