Mistakes?

Lindsay asked me to expand on a comment I left at her blog. To wit:

Working in fine art (and with aspiring fine art photographers) over the past several years has shown me that for the most part, it's the same fucking slot canyons, the same goddamn pictures from Tunnelview, and the same amateurish mistakes made by people who can afford anything except the time needed to slow down.

What do I mean by "the same amateurish mistakes" here?

Many photographers, caught up in the excitement of the hobby, go all out. They spend a lot of money on gear, buy all the toys advertised in Outdoor Photographer, and end up trying to kill a gnat with a shotgun. (It's a good thing Dick Cheney isn't a photographer.)

An example:

A photographer I had a chance to speak with recently made a picture in Yosemite right after a snowfall. Very decent composition, although I don't do those kinds of critiques. The problem was, he'd bought a new wiz-bang filter because it'd make his photos "better".

What did he mean by better? This new filter, a neutral-density graduated filter, is designed to hold back light from the lens in one area - sort of like sunglasses for the bright part of a scene, to help bring the exposure within the latitude of the film or sensor. Our poor example photographer was frustrated that the filter "didn't work". The problem wasn't the filter at all.

I told him to buy a new alarm clock and to put the filter on eBay.

The only "problem" with the picture was that it was looking east on a clear day, from inside a shadowy area, towards El Capitan... at about 10:00 a.m. (This southerly-facing granite face reflects light brilliantly during the winter months.) This was a slide film exposure, and not only were the shadows completely blocked (black), but the entire face of El Capitain was a rock-shaped area of clear film. No texture or detail.

Waking up to go make the picture at 5:30 a.m. would have done more for this photograph than all the photo equipment in the world.

I explained this carefully and cogently. And yet, our example photographer persisted in asking what he could buy to "keep it from happening next time". I told him I couldn't suggest any equipment that would help.

That's an amateur's mistake, and our example photographer will likely repeat it again and again, as he has in the past. When your bank account can handle it, it's always easier to try to buy your way to photographic nirvana.

If you slow down to examine the variables, it's never equipment that makes the incredible photograph - it's the photographer and what they've learned. Examine your failures more closely than your successes. (Film was better for this than digital, depending on your viewpoint; you can't erase film and start over...if you fuck up, you'll be embarrassed when you pick your work up at the lab, knowing that the film monkeys have already had a snicker on at your mistake.)

I've been lucky enough to have several great friends and teachers, including Darron, Rich, Bill, the other Bill, Charlie, Mark, and more than I can name here. But I think Darron and Rich were really the ones who knocked it into my head that photography is work. If you aren't prepared to put a lot of work into it and to listen to those who are already quite good, it will be a frustrating and expensive pursuit.

Sit back and take your time, and photography becomes about beauty, joy, and self-expression - or whatever emotions you wish to express with this most modern art form.

I plan on updating this post later...gotta go get ready for the Nine Inch Nails concert.

(iTunes...You Be Illin', Run-D.M.C., 1989)