Jump to content

Philosophy: the tortured soul of a photographer


Recommended Posts

<p>No matter how much I photograph. No matter how many people tell me they love my photos. The more I look at my own photos. The more I only see the flaws and what is wrong with them. The more progressed I become as a photographer and learn intricate technical aspects, the more every photo I've taken in the past looks more and more like garbage to me..</p>

<p>Ever felt this way? You're probably not alone. I know a lot of photographers and it seems the majority also feel the same way I do. You have to wonder if Michaelangelo, Vincent Van Gogh, or others also felt this way. Not that I'm comparing myself or anyone to them. Though we sure have a few i've seen here on photo.net that come close!</p>

<p>Sometimes it's hard to press on and try to grow when you're frustrated and all you can think about is how bad your photos seem to you. Even though others love them. At first when I got into photography, of course the narcissistic side of me loved getting the compliments from others. It was an adrenaline rush to race through the event always anticipating those magic moments and capturing them.</p>

<p>At some point, sometimes, somewhere along the way. You just might seem to get lost from the magic. Get too caught up in admiring someone elses work and trying your hardest to be those people that you admire. Why don't your photos look like that? Why can't I be as good as him/her? Is it my equipment?</p>

<p>Stop focusing on being someone else and be yourself. Carve your own path of ingenuity and design. Read up as much as you can on the technical aspects and even techniques regarding proper exposures and methods. But we always have to try to remember to be original and unique. That is what makes us beautiful as people, that we are all different. Believe it or not, as much as you stare and admire at jeff ascoughs work wishing you could be him, at some point someone with less experience than ourselves have probably looked at our work and wished they could be as good as us, while of course we are wishing we could be or have our work look more like someone elses.</p>

<p>Don't let the inner demons torture you too much. But they are good to a degree. I let my inner demons punish me just enough to keep me out of my comfort zone and constantly look for more unique ways I can learn and expand my photography and make myself better while recognizing faults so I can grow out of those faults. But I have started to ignore them just enough to stop trying to be like others and just make my own style and way through the world! I am ME!!! And I am proud of that fact :)</p>

<p>Written with a friend in mind who is having a tough time right now with her photography. You know who you are, don't let the demons get you down :)</p>

Link to comment
Share on other sites

<blockquote>

<p>The more I look at my own photos. The more I only see the flaws and what is wrong with them.</p>

 

</blockquote>

<p>I think we all do.</p>

 

<blockquote>

<p>Get too caught up in admiring someone else's work and trying your hardest to be those people that you admire.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>I admire lots of people's work.</p>

<blockquote>

<p>Why don't your photos look like that?</p>

</blockquote>

<p>Because mine looks like mine.</p>

<blockquote>

<p>Why can't I be as good as him/her? Is it my equipment?</p>

</blockquote>

<p>I doubt it is your equipment. I have seen IPhone photos which are worth hanging. I have never made one.</p>

<p>I am my own worst critic. The vast majority of what I have made is crap. I can tell you each every bit of crap of every piece of crap I have shot. And exactly why it's crappy. </p>

<p>But I am getting to the point where I am not ashamed of putting some of my crap, printed out, up on my walls. My stuff looks like <em>my</em> stuff. I don't know anyone who is making stuff like I am making. Maybe no one makes it because everyone else thinks its total crap. I don't know. But that is what I want to make, it's what I like, and what I want on my walls.</p>

Link to comment
Share on other sites

<p>+1 for both Jonathan and Richard this morning. I have some cringe-worthy moments when I look back on photos from past years, and I have to admit, from last weekend. I think that's what keeps me at this hobby - I know that there is something more to learn, there has to be a better way to get that shot and I'll put it into place next time. </p>

<p>Richard - I found that putting up my own photos in my own home has been enormously satisfying (yes, and not just a little bit narcissistic) but it has also helped me to think about and strive for the better shot next time. And as you say, it MY stuff, and that makes it more fun.</p>

Link to comment
Share on other sites

<p>Last weekend I spent some time in the darkroom, enlarging 30-year-old-negatives from the time when I was about 15. I got an invitation from some old, almost forgotten friend to a party and they asked to bring photos from those days. The photos are far from being perfect. Negatives too contrasty, some blured, some with scratches - but I like them very much because they convey the spirit of those days. A much younger colleague said, she would have wanted to be with us, seeing those photos.<br>

Just lay your photos aside and watch them weeks/month/years later :-)</p>

Link to comment
Share on other sites

<p>"Ever felt this way?"<br>

Yes! My wife and I are now preparing to move into a smaller housing arrangement for retirement. Over the past two weeks I've been sorting through negatives, slides and prints from forty-two years of serious amateur and some professional work. So far I've taken 250 LB to our local landfill. That's the really crappy stuff of a neophyte behind the camera and in the darkroom from 1969-1979, and some stuff that frankly I can't understand why I carried through the years. What remains now are the best slides, the negatives sleeved and dated, the better mounted and framed prints that remain from exhibits and competitions, but mostly family-related material that now seems terribly important to preserve. Some relatives have died and their images now seem magical. Some work shows history and culture long forgotten but now valued, even for its eccentricities and goofy clothing styles. (Did we really wear glasses with lenses that big in the eighties? And what's with the plaid pants and striped shirts in the seventies?) Finally, I have around 3,000 reasonably good images from the last eight digital years stored on multiple hard drives. What does all of this mean? I agree with Henry Wilhelm of Wilhelm Imaging Research, who advises that ultimately we should photograph those people and objects that mean the most to us, and preserve them in the best way we can. In the end they will matter most.</p><div>00Z2Rz-379557584.jpg.c0fdc3afde81085c56ebf9a369079c34.jpg</div>

Link to comment
Share on other sites

<p>Yes, we've all been there, I'm sure. I think if one is serious about one's work, then one has doubts and fears. Even when people comment favourably on my work, I then question, in my mind, their qualifiaction to make that judgement. Ultimately, it's what drives us to try to advance.</p>
Link to comment
Share on other sites

<p>Howard, you and I are on similar paths. As I get ready to move (perhaps into a camper for several years on the road), I'm going though all of the transparencies I've taken since the 1970s, including 35mm, 6x4.5, 6x6, and 6x7. I've literally thrown about 90% into the trash, and I've scanned about 30% of the remainder -- those landscape photos that, for me, really capture the essence of the places I've visited and of the experiences I've had. However, when it came to family photos, nearly 100% were kept and scanned. One is of me in plaid pants with my hair parted down the middle -- it's absolutely hilarious! But most of them are of my son as a baby and toddler (he's now in his mid-30s), my parents now deceased, other family members in years of better health, and of past happenings that were great then and that are even greater now in retrospect. They matter the most. </p>

<p>To Jonathan, I do landscapes and not weddings, but for me the photograph is not the primary purpose of my photography. What matters most is the experience of being in the landscape: at 4:00 a.m. on a mountain trail guided by a flashlight so that I can be at a certain spot when the sun rises, or camped at 9000 feet to have the best morning light, or hiking back to my vehicle long past sunset with hopefully some great photos of the evening light on the mountain or in the grassland or in the desert. Having a camera in my hands simply helps me to experience that landscape more intimately and more intensely than if my hands were empty. So I'm "tortured" only if circumstances prevent me from leaving the house to experience that incredible world out there. </p>

<p>I wonder if it's possible for a wedding photographer to have a similar frame of mind, to be primarily enjoying the experience and to be giving something to clients that they will cherish for the rest of their lives (or at least the rest of their currently married experience), rather than focusing primarily on the artistic quality of individual photographs.</p>

Link to comment
Share on other sites

<blockquote>

<p><em>"I wonder if it's possible for a wedding photographer to have a similar frame of mind, to be primarily enjoying the experience and to be giving something to clients that they will cherish for the rest of their lives (or at least the rest of their currently married experience), rather than focusing primarily on the artistic quality of individual photographs."</em></p>

 

</blockquote>

<p>Perhaps not a very good analogy, but the same question might be posed to a war photographer - to enjoy the experience and to be giving something to the world that might influence the outcome in a positive way, rather than focus primarily on the avoidance of getting shot. :-) </p>

<p>I think there's a huge difference in stress level among the 3 genres. </p>

Link to comment
Share on other sites

<p>Like others said, I am glad those moments of severe dislike are there, because it means I managed to grow a little. I also dislike most of what I shoot these days, so there is plenty growth left :-)<br /> It only leaves me wondering: the images I nowadays feel pleased with, will those survive this endless self-critique?</p>

<p>Like Stephen, many of my nature photos are made in a way described in his posting. Being out there, relaxing enjoying the nature around me, is a huge part of it. But there is still the joy if that beautiful nature scene you saw comes out right as a photo; if you managed to convey in a photo what awed you. And, I think such moments exist for any type of photographer. Form the extremely little experience I have (I am no wedding pro, but did some for friends), I'm glad each wedding day has at least yielded one photo that gets the moment just right and shows that very foundation of the wedding itself. Maybe I simplify the artistic goal of a wedding photo now, though, but well, to me, those photos make the married couple happy, and the photographer. Even if it was shot in a hectic environment under stress.</p>

Link to comment
Share on other sites

<p>Stephen raises a great point. Even with some of the series of landscape or event photos that could best be described as "truly adequate" the memories of being there, setting up, enjoying the moment survive. As we digitized everything we've both shot over that last 40 years there were many of those "do you remember that day" conversations, and almost universally we both do remember it better than if we hadn't been there shooting photos. </p>
Link to comment
Share on other sites

<p>I think most people who are serious about photography tend to have a commitment to continual learning, this means (hopefully) continual improvement, and therefore some of our older work will probably seem somewhat cringeworthy. When you tie this in with an artistic tendency towards insecurity it's not surprising that there are some tortured moments involved!</p>

<p>There's always room for improvement, there are always new techniques, styles and creative avenues to explore and that's what keeps it fun and interesting. I think being one's worst critic is essential to the learning process and making sure we keep moving forward.</p>

<p>The fact that we may not like some of our earlier work is actually a positive thing as it shows how much we have progressed and confirms that we're on the right path. It's possible that in the future the work we are doing now may seem subpar, and that's actually a really exciting thought if you look at it in the right way.</p>

<p> </p>

Link to comment
Share on other sites

<p>Self-doubt and a critical eye are essential tools for self development in the creative arts -they come in the box.<br>

Unless you are completely cynical,and just satisfying a demand. I am not good at identifying my better work,but this usually works for me : show your work to uninvolved strangers - hopefully people who have an interest in your field.<br>

Friends & relatives will not do ; their instinct to be kind will subvert the honest reaction you need.<br>

And,if nothing succeeds,remember Albert Einsteins comment " It would have been better if I had become a locksmith".</p>

Link to comment
Share on other sites

<p>What a great idea Ian! I think I'm going to forget photography and open my own 24 hour locksmith operation getting people unlocked from their houses where they forgot their keys. I'll always have happy customers that are satisified with my results even if I have to cut the door knob off... lol.</p>
Link to comment
Share on other sites

<p>Those of us who have been doing this for a while (me, about 40 years) will always look at a photograph after the fact and wonder why we didn't do it better. We have the talent, we have the experience....we have the technical savvy, we have the equipment, and we always want it to be perfection. The great Formula One auto racing champion Ayrton Senna was once asked about the perfect lap. His reply was that "it's like tying your tie so that both ends are the same length. Experience tells you it can be done, practice tells you it can be done...but you can't do it".</p>

<p>Thus the tortured soul. I'm looking at one of my photos right now, and opinions - not just my own - tell me that it is very good, but I see several things about it I don't like. My soul isn't THAT tortured, but I have on occasion gone back and re-shot a photo because I wasn't satisfied with it the first time. In fact, I'm working at that right now. I've been trying to get the perfect photograph of an Iris against a cloudy blue sky - from ground level looking up - and I have so far maybe 50 exposures, but I'm not yet satisfied. So I guess I'll keep trying. </p>

Link to comment
Share on other sites

<p>If you want honest opinions of your work, you have to get off of the internet and go to non-gear centric photo festivals like Look3, the NYC Photo Festival, Perpignan, Maine and Santa Fe workshops, etc. There are some of the world's best photographers and industry experts there who WILL give you honest opinions, tips through portfolio review sessions, workshops, etc. <br /> Spending a few hundred or even $25-$50 to engage in one on one or workshop dialogue in person with like minded artists is the only way to truly get a feel for where you are at and how to improve, that is why these people are there, not so much to talk shop. There is simply nothing to be gained by hearing countless "Great Capture" comments from online communities and "Wow, what a great photo!" from friends and family members who generally are too close to you to be unbiased and may not be well versed in what actually *does* make a good photograph.<br>

You may get some honest opinions on here, but not nearly as many as in person in a festival / workshop environment.</p>

Link to comment
Share on other sites

<p>It's not a matter of my thinking of my past photos as good or not. It's a matter of my learning and evolving. My past photos were an expression of where I was at the time. I want to look back and see progress, change, and growth. I can do that and still very much appreciate what I was coming up with years ago. I can be critical without being negative and without actually rejecting what I once did. </p>

<p>I understand that many artists struggle and are tortured in one way or another. I think that's a kind of inner emotional struggle which often leads to the expressive work they do. I don't think it's too much a struggle over thinking their past work wasn't good enough.</p>

<p>I think too much concern with being "good" is not the purview of most genuine artists, even though there is often a great concern with honing craft.</p>

We didn't need dialogue. We had faces!
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
×
×
  • Create New...