Why take a photograph?

A few days ago, a friend of mine, Russ Lewis, posted a photograph on Luminous Landscape, a forum that I frequent for criticism, stimulation, and conversation about photography. I asked Russ if I could blog about the discussion thread that resulted and he graciously agreed. If you're interested, the thread can be found here (you need to be a member to see images), but the following will present what I consider the important and interesting essence of the discussion.

The Tracks

The image can be seen here and I find it very strong for many reasons, but the interesting part was the discourse it engendered amongst the forum denizens, amateurs and professionals. Some shrugged their shoulders. Some focused on the terrific post processing and technical details regarding rendering, composition, and subject. Some had very strong negative feelings about the image: What exactly is the subject? Why would you take a picture of an empty train track? It's lonely. I don't like it, but it's a strong image. It's a cliché. Others felt very positive about it: Strong image. A photo that would stimulate much speculation if it were an assignment in English class. It's mysterious. It's a metaphor for universal experience. It's an ongoing thread, so there will be further responses, no doubt!

But what struck me so vividly I wanted to write about it, was that this image seemed to divide my photographer colleagues into two camps, if I may over-simplify intentionally. Some felt the photograph unappealing because there was no "formal" subject or point to the image other than the cliché of tracks running off into the distance and therefore, if it was about nothing, then why take it? I take a different view and while the photograph elicits very negative feelings in me, therein lies the "Aha!" Below is essentially a direct quote of my comments on the forum, which I wrote because I am training myself not to simply like or dislike a photograph, but to work on the discipline of trying to evaluate the "what" and the "why" of that judgment. I tried to address the question of whether something is valueless because others have done it before. In photography speak, is an image a cliché if someone else has already captured it?

I argue that a photograph, which makes us feel anything beyond indifference is worthwhile whether it elicits a sense of loss, an appreciation of beauty, or interest in a particular subject or product. Russ calls  it a "transcendental experience" and it is precisely this that makes photography it's own language. "A picture is worth a thousand words." There's a reason for that! But is there value in trying to restate or retell a story and does it lose its "magic" if it's part of a "same old song?" I say it

is

important and for good reasons; my belief (for it is that) is based on the following logic.

Photography is a medium (maybe a currency?) like everything else we use to try and connect with one another. Words, paintings, sculpture, theater, science, etc (some of these are mixed media no?) are forms of expression and organization that we use to communicate subjective and necessarily approximate realities. We say we have heard that song before about unrequited love and tragedy (Tristan and Isolde, Hero and Leander, almost any country western song, etc), but each re-telling of the "cliché" can be appreciated for variations on a common theme that we all have had or will experience, for the richness of the embellishment by the story teller, for the sheer size of a tapestry depicting the events re-told, or for the technical execution of the attempt to communicate even what is an old, old story. For example, revealing my childish predilection

, I love the female form; all the time, every way, size, shape, real or "fake" it doesn't matter. My 89 yo father still loves the female form, too! Sure, I would love Platonically ideal females, but I sure like going through the discovery process and examination to find the most perfect approximation or should I say approximation

s

? Please pardon my being cute, but it makes my point: In this case, familiarity does

not

breed contempt! Media can be used to create everything from the profound, to the mundane, to the vulgar, but I would argue that to be successful, the ones that succeed must in some sense represent a "cliché" at least a cliché to someone, somewhere, probably someone highly educated. An important caveat that professionals sometimes forget: A cliché to one skilled in the art may not be a cliche to a neophyte, which does not negate the fact that a rendition (think photograph) is appreciated or found irritating and overused,

precisely

because it communicates something of our common experience; beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I guess, but then, ironically, I had to try and say it my own way.

When I saw Russ' photograph, I could appreciate it for it's technical excellence (composition, exposure, post processing, etc). I could also appreciate it aesthetically, feel the sense of emptiness that exists in a million different venues and within all of us. But I loved most of all the empty tracks, which to me signify the inevitability of loneliness and I found Russ' rendition beautiful and terrible, at the same time. I keep hearing Soul Asylum's "Runaway Train" in the background as I write this, which is probably mixing metaphors

, but I also love the performances by Rosanne Cash and every other artist that sings this song even though I've heard it a million times (that's hyperbole)

!

Just because Shakespeare writes another story about a mad king or a cuckolded husband, doesn't mean we don't appreciate, enjoy, even revere how he uses common (vulgar?) words to tell the tale. Now, I'm no Shakespeare with a camera, but I sure enjoy all of the renditions I see in LuLa land and elsewhere, some are successful, some are not. I enjoy the repartee and thought provoking discussions in LuLa, and while I have yet to produce my own "masterpiece," I also love the gathering of kindred souls around a warm fire on a cold evening, even if we are re-telling "old stories."

I submit that this is why we take photographs... to perfect the story and thereby connect with another human being.