Sofie Dittmann's Photography Blog

That was a lot of fun at the laundromat!

Sofie Dittmann Check this out!, Photographs fine art photography, self portrait, sofie dittmann photography

David Hurn/Magnum in conversation with Bill Jay

“On Being a Photographer” is published by LensWork Publishing (http://www.lenswork.com) as part of a series called “Photography & the Creative Process”. ISBN 1-888803-06-1, 145 pages, $12.95 plus shipping.

This book, which the authors have aptly subtitled “A Practical Guide”, is one I should have had/read when I started to photograph, no, BEFORE I thought about taking pictures. Bill Jay states in his introduction that it celebrates 30 years of friendship and a “continuous, and continuing, dialogue about photography”. Which is exactly why I bought it when it was finally in print again.

I was looking for a book that provided some of the answers to some of the vague questions that lingered in my mind even after years of seriously photographing, and perhaps owing to the fact that much of what I know I have taught myself. What would I have given had I had teachers like these two to nag.

David Hurn’s and Bill Jay’s friendship began when David basically wiped Bill’s photos off the table, the fruit of several years of struggle to be a photographer. His judgment was harsh, but honest (something I wish I would have sometimes). He called them “boring” and “derivative”. Later in the conversation Bill Jay tells him that while it was a hard pill to swallow (I’m paraphrasing here), by the same token it freed him from the burden of trying to be something he was not. He started taking pictures instead that interested him, mainly portraits of other photographers, and thereby he has amassed a very important historical body of work that he would have perhaps never achieved had he continued trying to be a documentary photographer.

David Hurn himself attributes his success to a couple of chance encounters and people guiding him along the way. But still, in the end he listened to his own intuition and gave up first a promising fashion photography career, then a secure teaching job in favor of financial insecurity, but at the same time being independent and working towards his own artistic goals. Personally, I admire that.

The book is written in dialogue form, with Bill Jay asking the questions, but also interspersing the conversation throughout the book with his own experiences and opinions, which I found quite worthwhile, because they nicely round up and further explain some of David Hurn’s statements.

After discussing the difference between a “photojournalist” and a “documentary photographer”, Hurn concludes that he would prefer the term “reportage photographer” for himself, because it “implies a personal account of an observed event with connotations of subjectivity but honesty” (p. 40).

He goes on to say that photographers are not photographers because they are interested in photography. If he didn’t have my attention before, he had it then. I had always assumed that I was interested in the process of taking pictures, therefore I was interested in photography. According to David Hurn, that is not so. Because photography is essentially only a tool, a vehicle, a photographer must have an intense interest, a curiosity, in the subject which he is photographing, in the theme of the pictures. To him, this curiosity leads to more intense examination, talking, research etc. over a longer period of time. (p. 44)

I found this intriguing, mainly because of a conversation I had had with somebody years ago, when I first started seriously taking photographs. She asked me “why” I had taken this or that photograph, what interested me about the topic, and had I taken more than just that one. I had no clue what she meant then. Now I know that with the interest, the curiosity, in and about a topic come visions of pictures, of how that topic and its different parts can be captured, and frozen in time with a camera. I have found that once I pick a topic that I am personally interested in, the different angles and ways to depict it come to me almost by themselves. In other words, the technique of ‘HOW’ you got the photo in the end doesn’t really matter. As long as you got it the way your inner eye saw it.

Hurn also states that it is not compromising yourself as an artist if you pick something that interests others as well. (p. 47) That one was harder for me to swallow, because as artists we think of ourselves as creating something divine, and not per se catering to the common gout de jour. But then, what good is visual art if nobody sees it, thinks about it, appreciates it? Art has always had a need for patronage, and the alternative is not necessarily better. What one created is still ideally from within oneself, and hopefully somehow bears one’s unique signature.

According to David Hurn, this signature, or a unique visual style is the by-product of visual exploration, not its goal. In other words, you can’t force it. I’ve often been asked what makes a photograph “good” myself. While I still think that the answer to that one is totally subjective in the end, no matter what great name is signed to it, have you ever wondered why you can tell an Ansel Adams right away from a sea of others? Why an Annie Leibovitz or Steve McCurry portrait so clearly could have had no other creator?

To Hurn, the main ingredients of a great photograph are intimate knowledge of the subject, enthusiasm for it, and creating an image of it without further thought to technicalities. I agree. “Migrant Mother” is actually slightly blurry, yet one of the most recognized and cherished photographs that Dorothea Lange took on that assignment. Why? Because she answered an inner voice to drive back on that dirt road, and to take that photo of an utterly desperate woman and her children, but with a love for her that is visible decades later.

A photographer can in the end only determine two things about a photograph: where to stand and when to release the shutter. In that respect, Hurn states, photography is really simple. But it also means that one should always take a few different angles of the subject, and I agree with Hurn when he says, that the accomplished photographer does so because he’s never quite sure he’s got it right. That’s why beginners usually take only a few shots, and from the same angle.

Bill Jay and David Hurn devote a lot of time talking about why professionals take so many pictures, yet why this can be also a sign of not doing it right. In the beginning that was a little puzzling to say the least, but in the end it boils down to this: even with careful planning, the accomplished photographer still needs to make sure he’s “got the shot”, while the others just haphazardly shoot whatever they can in the hopes they will have caught something.

Later in the book, as Hurn expresses his doubts about digital photography, I was reminded of that again. It is a common criticism of digital photography that it in essence fosters just this attitude. Take enough shots and you are sure to go home with “something”. By the same token, in my own photography I have found that even with unlimited shots at my disposal, I more and more cut down on the waste, just as David Hurn had emphasized, for the sole reason that I don’t have unlimited time to waste trying to fix up bad photos in the hopes they will become good ones. In the end, great photographs are usually made by careful planning. (pp. 64 ff) So are ones that are “only” good, and it doesn’t matter how they were captured, on film or memory card.

This book is rooted in analog photography, an area which I have never fully explored by practicing it, but in my opinion of which one should have a thorough understanding when venturing into photography. If not for a rounded view of the topic, then at least for some of the controversies surrounding how digital photography has changed the medium, and whether it can still accurately and honestly capture reality. Nevertheless, the whole chapter on creating contacts was kind of useless in a certain respect, because the digital workflow is so very different. I therefore pulled out the essence of what he is TRYING to do with the contacts – basically get organized, pick your best shots carefully, create naming conventions and a sorting scheme that makes sense years later.

What was more useful to me was the whole chapter on creating a picture essay. I found that I had instinctively worked that way already, when I read that to create a meaningful series, you must first explore your topic thoroughly and create a list of shots you want to take to get a rounded picture of it. The one thing I do not totally agree with is that unless you plan like this, your series will inevitably be disorganized and dwell on one visual moment alone, rather than an in-depth exploration of the subject. Part of the fun for me in wandering around a strange place is to explore it visually, and basically respond with my camera to what I see. At least to me, that’s why street photography is fun. However, I do think as well that quantity of photographs is not important for its own sake, that it must be focused. (p. 90)

Photography, good photography, is a lot of hard work, and being focused helps to improve one’s ability. What Hurn also touches on is to have the right equipment all around for the job, starting from what you wear to the camera. For his kind of photography it is important to travel light, but to be able to blend in with your chosen environment as well. I would have thought that was common sense, since others have stated the very same point – Steve McCurry from the National Geographic for example, who said that if you take the time to blend in, you get the unguarded moment, as people don’t realize you are taking their picture.

The next to last chapter is devoted to the future of photography. At the time of writing, 1995, digital photography as well as the Internet were in their infancy, and so some of the statements in this chapter seem out of touch. For example, that it is of no advantage to a photographer to have a web presence and the like. Also the notion that because photography in its analog form required such technical expertise that had made photographers like Lee Friedlander great, digital photography could not live up to that.

I have found that just because the medium is now electronic does not mean taking good pictures has necessarily become any easier. In my view, the contrary holds true. Because everybody owns a camera these days and fancies themselves a photographer (think of the aunt photographing the wedding instead of a professional), it is all the harder to a) find a topic that has not been photographed to death, b) within that topic meaningful ideas and angles, and c) present it to others who, like oneself, are inundated with visuals on a daily basis in a captivating and unique way. When photographing analog, photographers all influenced one another, but nowadays one is literally flooded with influences. How is it still possible to be unique?

I came to the conclusion for myself that in the end it is, as it has been, your ideas that count, and now more than ever the will to persevere. Photoshop cannot make a mediocre photograph better, a bad snapshot cannot be “saved” by digitally putting it through the wringer. The two things David Hurn describes as your essential decisions when taking a picture – where you stand and when you release the shutter – are still the same.

In the concluding chapter of the book, Jay and Hurn seek to dispel some common photographic myths, such as that many photographers believe they are the best editors of their own work. The two that I found particularly interesting were that photography is about talent and instinct, and that if it’s been done before, it’s not worth exploring again. I concur that photography, like any art, needs years of practice. When I look back at my early work, I can’t believe that I thought some of these were good pictures. By the same token, as David Hurn states elsewhere in the book, they have historic value as a stepping stone, and so I would never discard them. I’ve also found that if you seek something that has never been done before, you might as well not take pictures.

I read somewhere that all music had already been composed in some way by somebody, and that nothing you can come up with today is therefore truly unique. I think the same holds true with photography, but it doesn’t mean you can’t give it your own spin. Learn from the best, make their ideas your own, then shape them anew.

Or in David Hurn’s words (p. 142/143): Photographers of all personality types, using the whole panoply of camera formats, would become better photographers at a faster rate by employing the common denominators gleaned from the images, ideas and lives of the best photographers throughout the medium’s history.

That is the reason, among others, why I collect photo books.

Sofie Dittmann Book Review, Photography General, Resource bill jay, Book Review, david hurn, lenswork publishing, photography

On March 3, 2010 Stepan Rudik, who had initially won the third prize in the World Press Photo Awards, was officially disqualified and stripped of his honors. In a statement, the World Press Photo foundation stated that his erasing of a sneaker visible behind the main subject of the photo, who was having his hand bandaged, was in violation of contest rules. The manipulation was discovered after requesting RAW files of the series from him.

I looked at the two versions of the photo in question, and what was removed was an area the size of a match’s top, undetectable to the naked eye. The disqualification has sparked a discussion on the Internet (among others on PDN Pulse, PDN’s professional photography blog). On PDN Pulse, David Walker argued that while he understood the fact that lines had to be drawn in the sand, to him this seemed arbitrary and was qualifying littering as armed robbery.

This controversy, together with some other scandals (think the wildlife photographer who was stripped of his title in January for allegedly using a “model” wolf), prompted me to revisit some of the work of Susan Sontag (“On Photography”) and the memorable conversation between Bill Jay and David Hurn (“On Being a Photographer”), both written when photography was still analog. (And in the case of “On Being a Photographer”, digital photography was only really getting started.) I was looking for answers to the re-ignited question: what IS photography, and more specifically, what is DIGITAL photography?

Is using a model wolf like Jose Luis Rodriguez so very different from erasing a small blurred sneaker from a photo? In both cases, reality is altered. Rodriguez allegedly did not disclose that the wolf he had photographed wasn’t wild. If that was indeed the case, then what we are seeing is not the “reality” of a wild animal jumping a fence, it is a hoax. In Rudik’s case, the sneaker removed from the picture could have likely been removed with analog methods as well, and removing it or leaving it in does nothing whatsoever to alter the meaning of the photograph. The hand is still being bandaged.

The main question is and remains, though: can photography, a medium that used to be hailed for its capacity to represent reality, still fulfill that notion in the digital age? This year, Photoshop (my favorite addiction of all) turned 20 years old. I myself have been amazed as to what all I can repair AFTER the photograph has been taken. I have found, though, that in a perfect scenario it will do no more than make an already good photo great – something I would have done in a darkroom pre-digital.

To the amateur, Photoshop and its many cousins (Aperture, Lightroom etc.) is the cure-all. In the beginning, I would routinely fix up less-than-perfect photos, knowing that the uninitiated would never know the difference. I very soon would discover, though, that what was not in the photograph would not be magically present with digital manipulation, and that a bad photo is still a bad photo, even though it may have been photoshopped. The mere notion that a bad picture can be “saved” this way to me now sounds so totally ridiculous and amateurish, I’m embarrassed to even admit I used to think that way. I also can only repeat time after time that once you find yourself bending over backwards when post-processing an image, chances are it’s probably not worth it. And in that sense, David Hurn’s concerns that “digital” would take the challenge out of photography that had made photography great – that had actually made photographers such as Lee Friedlander or Garry Winogrand great – were in retrospect without foundation.

Photoshop and programs like it can likewise not substitute for certain analog processes. They can mimic, but they will only come this close, and never completely reach it. Polaroid transfers are one such example. Another example is digital black & white. Great photos are made in the darkroom (Ansel Adams reportedly spent more time there than actually photographing to perfect his most memorable works). That is no different in the digital age. For example, I would have NEVER thought that outstanding digital black & white would be THIS hard, until I tried it. I have explored EVERY technique I could get my hands on, and when comparing it to my early pioneer heroes, just had to thrust my hands in the air in frustration when I realized that the contrasts, the mood, that eye-popping “something” just wasn’t there. I’ve finally come pretty close with Nik’s Silver Efex Pro, but even that is not the cure-all some hail it to be and a little clumsy and time-consuming to boot.

Anyway. Back to our question at hand. I think it’s actually a little easier than one might think. If the representation of reality is our bar, the line in the sand that we draw, I propose that a photograph should live up to the following very short list of standards:

1. Does the photograph faithfully represent the scene it depicts by all accounts?
2. If altering is necessary according to the estimation of the photographer (the picture is, for example, crooked or contains distracting elements), would the result have been achievable in the analog darkroom?
3. Does the altered result still faithfully represent the original scene as stated in #1?

If the answer to all of these is “yes”, the line in the sand that David Walker questioned, would no longer be arbitrary, but very clearly defined. Stepan Rudik would probably be able to keep his prize. And everything else is a digital composite, digital art, and should be disclosed as such. There is a space for this kind of stuff. As for the fake “wild” wolf, even Photoshop couldn’t fix that anyway.

Sofie Dittmann Check this out!, OMG!, Photography General digital art, Photography General, wildlife photographer of the year, world press photo awards

Some good advice by Steve McCurry to novice photographers.

Sofie Dittmann Photography General, Resource blog, photography, steve mccurry

One automatically asks oneself who the people behind the amazing photographs in the National Geographic and elsewhere are. We don’t get very many people of this stature here in Ohio, as this place is typically not important enough to attract them. Nevertheless, today we went to a book signing by a man if not larger than life, then pretty close to it.

Steve McCurry turned out to be a regular guy, and a very nice one to boot. Charming and somewhat introverted, somebody I would have liked to just have had time to chat over a beer or a glass of wine with. He’s likely happier in Asia than among all the star-struck people here, but what an inspiration this was.

A snapshot my son took of him signing one of the posters we bought is below.

It was amazing to for once be able to see and, if only briefly, experience a person whose work I have admired for as long as I can think. The Joseph Saxton Gallery didn’t have a lot of his photographs on display, but enough to re-encounter some old friends, like the sheep herder with the henna beard, and of course Sharbat Gula, the photograph he’s most associated with and most famous for. I bought a book, and two posters featuring that portrait for the youngens, the sale of which benefited ImagineAsia.

I couldn’t find any more information, but Steve is at least on their Board and a major contributor, but it almost appeared to me as if he co-founded the organization. Their website is only marginal, with little to no useful information and heinous navigation. A little more can be found on Steve’s own website, a link to which I have posted above.

Unfortunately we had to forgo the talk at Malone University this evening, which I would have liked to have gone to. I’ll just add this to my list of things I would have liked to turn out differently in my life.

When I am reborn, I’ll work for the National Geographic. Or something.

Sofie Dittmann Check this out!, Photo Event, Photography General afghan girl, canton, national geographic, Ohio, photography, steve mccurry