Well are you? As I sat here on a cold winter’s day, watching the snow fall outside, I got to thinking, always a dangerous thing to do. I was thinking about technical aspirations and what we are sometimes missing. All too often the drive for technique and mastering a set of skills can have a negative effect on your photographs. How so? Well, obsessing about technique and the perfect f-stop to use for a given lens can start to limit us into a formula, one that gets applied rigorously to all our shots. Whilst they might have technical perfection, and beauty, they become a monotony of the same shots. We stop thinking about what’s in front of us and more about technique, and so the connection with the subject (and so in turn with the viewer) wilts and fades into the background. This is aptly demonstrated on the photo forums that populate the internet. A concentration on technique, rather than narrative and content, dominates. Even those that you would think would know better fail to appreciate content and narrative (or see its importance), instead they seem to think in terms of technique only.
This is the problem I have with one of the masters of photography, Ansel Adams. Whilst there is no doubting his expertise and technical prowess, I feel that such things actually hinder his images. In my early days of discovering photography, I held his work in high esteem; the skill was something to aspire to, however, as I learnt more my interest in his photographs waned. Why did this happen? Well, I began to see a sterility in his work, Adams’s assertion that: “We can have craft without art, but we cannot have art without craft” was a double edged sword. His rigorous application of his craft actually becomes a barrier to interacting with the photographs he produced. When viewing his images all you can hear is his voice and expression. The technique overpowers and sublimates the narrative in the image; you end up looking at the technique, not the subject. To me, this makes his work like propaganda, there is no debate/dialogue with his work, you either agree with it or you don’t. I’m not saying that something has to be flawed to have a narrative, it can help yes, but the content of the image should be the main point of focus (sorry) not the technique you use. As I’m forever telling clients at work when they are asking us to create a ‘successful website’, “Content is king”. Without it, you can have the most well designed, thought out site, but if there’s nothing there for the user to engage with, well you might as well not bother. When you can marry technique and content you get some wonderful work such as that of Jack Spencer.
This engagement with the viewer is something that TV companies have recognised, the draw that reality TV shows have. Despite the lack of polish and to some extent content, there is a narrative there that draws in the viewer, inviting the viewer to be part of the story itself.
This engagement with the viewer got me to thinking about portraits. Taking for example the Taylor-Wessing portrait prize (was Schweppes portrait prize), every year a common theme amongst the shots chosen, is bored looking teenagers staring off into the middle distance. There are rarely any genuinely happy looking portraits. Why is this? Well I think it does come down to engagement and narrative. A neutral or pained expression seems to draw in the viewer, it throws up questions and scenarios. Whereas a happy expression seems to act like a block to that, we don’t question them as much. For some reason the darker emotions speak to us more strongly, we empathise and feel compassion for those that appear to be troubled or in extreme circumstances, yet seem to dismiss those that are happier. Lets bring back happiness into portraiture, but do it so that people engage more; it’s not easy but something that would in itself be rewarding.
Can you do that?