Second Thoughts

Clunie, Perthshire, 2018

I believe it was Auld Bert Einstein who once described intelligence as the willingness to change one's mind. By that metric, I'm a genius. Remember the post I wrote a month ago about how squeezing every last bit of detail from a shadow was, in some cases, a waste of time and that graphic pictures were the way ahead? Am I allowed to back-track somewhat from that position without appearing feeble-minded?

This about turn follows a recent printing session I had where I printed up a few of my more recent graphic-type shots - and wasn't particularly happy. The print quality was OK. The issue was more to do with how the prints left me feeling, which was a bit less than satisfied. The process of looking for these less representational images and trying to find interesting compositions is quite enjoyable. My problem is that, when I break them right down and hold the prints in my hand, they strike me as not having too much substance to them.

When I wrote the earlier post, I genuinely thought those arty images were more creative than more traditional subjects but now I'm not so sure. Could it, in fact, be more of an intellectual challenge than a creative one? A quest for an almost mathematical arrangement of shapes and tones that might have featured in The Krypton Factor, for those of you with long memories.

Standing in the darkroom trying to come to terms with a few less than satisfactory prints, my mind moved to those images that I do find satisfying. Wouldn't you know, but it's the more traditional landscape prints that hold most appeal for me. I looked at my glass of Talisker sitting next to the enlarger, back to the graphic prints, back to the Talisker and mused, "Well, that's a sobering thought".

In my defence, the landscape shots aren't the grand honey-pot vistas that I've moaned about too often in the past but more local scenes that I don't suppose very many photographers would bother pointing a camera at. The one at the top of the page is a case in point. It's a pleasant arrangement of a scene that holds a lot of childhood memories for me. By comparison, here's a more arty shot that I thought would be an interesting picture but which, I was disappointed to find out, just didn't do it for me. 

What's the reason for this cognitive dissonance? I have a wee theory but don't know if I'm right. I can honestly say that I never thought about or looked for graphic-type photos until I started studying Ralph Gibson's work. I'm beginning to wonder if I simply spend too much time looking at images taken by photographers I admire.

If there's someone who produces images I like then I tend to soak them up to the extent that I can see the photographs in my mind's eye. It must be almost inevitable that over-exposure to other photographers' work risks imprinting too vivid a picture in my subconscious so that when I'm out and about with a camera I'm drawn to photos of a similar style.

I suppose what I'm trying to say is that I'm influenced to the extent that I subconsciously seek out "photographs in the style of Ralph Gibson" rather than in my own style, whatever that might be. Contrast that with another favourite of mine, Raymond Moore. I dare say I've got a fair few pics that pay homage to Ray's unique eye but then I took photographs a little like that long before I saw any of Ray's work so it would probably be fair to say that Ray's style of photography is closer to my own heart than Mr Gibson's.

Another big danger when one starts down the pseudo-intellectual path is that too much thinking takes place. When it comes to photography, I reckon that thinking is over-rated. I enjoy watching the Youtube channel of English photographer Steve O'Nions (don't forget that apostrophe or it might be shallot) but I sense that he's started ruminating over his compositions too much.

Steve will sometimes walk around looking at a potential picture for half an hour trying to figure out the best angle, seemingly internalising every aspect of the composition. He's a very good photographer and there's no way I'd want to second guess his motives but, from my own point of view, if I don't see the composition very quickly then it's usually because the picture or the idea behind it isn't strong enough. Does engaging the analytical side of the brain along with the creative side help? I have my doubts. When words of intellect and reason are going through my mind when I'm looking through the viewfinder it's odds on that the result will be on the "meh" side.

Getting back to the meat and potatoes of this post, I think I'm going to have to stop fixating on some photographers' work and also make sure I'm applying the arty part of the brain when it comes to clicking the shutter instead of using an intellectual approach.

I also need to be truer to myself and see if I can get back to taking the type of pictures that I find visually and creatively satisfying right the way through the process. What might they be, I hear you ask. Well, I love being out in the countryside with a camera - not so much for the big view but more with the idea of capturing man's impact on the environment. Definitely not in the Fay Godwin/Robert Adams activist way, though, as I'm not keen on mixing photography and politics. Here are a few examples of the sort of thing that I not only enjoy taking but also find satisfying to print.

One last thing I'd say about all this is that it's harder for me to find the type of subject matter that features in these pictures. There are only so many isolated country churches and quaint little hamlets. On the other hand, there is an almost limitless supply of odd structures and angles that can be whipped up into a graphic composition. Is this also part of the reason for being drawn to the latter - they're easier to find?

Anyway, thanks for bearing with me through this stream of consciousness exercise. At the very least, I'm confident in saying that these are definitely this week's thoughts. The way I'm going, a stiff breeze might blow me onto another course altogether next week. If so, I'll keep you posted.