Postcards from the Creative Journey

485 There Has To Be A Story Here

Memorial Cards

Way back when, Rod Stewart released a rock and roll album (I told you it was a really, really long time ago) entitled, “Every Picture Tells a Story.” On that album, every song told a story. The concept has always been with me. Photographs should tell a story, convey your thoughts and feelings about what you found so interesting to your audience.

When left to the task, most photographers will tell a story about where the photo was made, how they made the photograph, all sorts of technical information on the camera and even more on software and printing. They may go even as far as telling you how they felt when they made the photograph and the personal importance of making the photograph.

Did you notice a theme there? The photographer was talking about himself, not the photographs. When asked, you should be able to tell a story about the photograph and what you want the photograph means to the viewer.  Talking about the subject of the photograph is a difficult thing. It takes a lot of learning and practice to do well but when you learn to do it well, your photographs will benefit. 

484 Photographs of Nothing

Taking a break from weeding.

Abandoned places have to have a story behind them. We see the moment at the time the photograph was made, but we don’t see the story behind why there is nothing there. I think this boils down to the level of abandonment we choose to capture. I have noted before that a completely abandoned and defaced location may not be really interesting because it is completely abandoned. Someplace that has some evidence of humanity and more importantly some indication that humans might come back is more inviting to me photographically.

A temporary absence is intriguing. Most everyone has left a location temporarily and recognizes that experience. We all know what that feels like.  We leave things on our desk and go to lunch, or leave our tools on a workbench when we take a break. We are absent for a few moments, not gone forever. If a place is abandoned, will anyone (save the photographer) willingly come back to see what is left? Abandoned means no one is coming back. That we don't know why people have left leaves the viewer with questions that may not be able to answered by the photographer's vision. This type of image needs more than a visual treatment; the how and why of the abandonment needs to be included to complete the story.

483 Sometimes, I Move Too Fast.

The Choir's Stairway

Speed is wonderful, but sometimes slowing down is necessary for you to understand just exactly what you have in terms of a photographic theme or project. By nature I am a project and goal oriented person. Tasks set before me (by others or myself) will be completed, usually in a prompt fashion. Only with the last few projects have I begun to notice that what I completed may not be as good as I wanted it to be. Yes, I completed the project and met my original goals, but a few weeks after completion, I’ve come up with some better ideas, a unique approach, or a different point of view.

The important point is simply this. If the idea is better, use it. Going back and reworking what you have completed is a good thing. You evolve and with it your artwork should evolve. It is well known that friends of Ansel Adams mounted a show of the variations of his famous “Moonrise, Hernandez, New Mexico,” tracking the changes in the presentation over the life of the photograph. That’s a pretty good role model to follow. So, pay attention to what you have done and if you think to yourself, “I could have done that better,” then go back and do it better.

482 “Rules of Art” Are Necessary

Hell's Half Acre, Wyoming

The concept of “rules of art” is old, respected and is a requirement for such art as the Haiku, the Sonnet, the Fugue and just for fun, the Limerick and the “one liner“ joke. Every one of these artistic forms of expression is governed by a strict adherence to form and rules. Yet in spite of “restrictive rules of art,” artists continue to solve the problem of creative expression. The problem of creating within a framework places more responsibility on the creator, giving him (or her) the responsibility of constructing their art within a set of rules.

I do not advocate a slavish adherence to “rules of art.” One should learn what they are, how and when they can be used effectively and how they can help you create a coherent image. Learn the rules first. Demonstrate that you can abide by them.

Then, if the situation requires it, go out and smash them with impunity if it helps you deliver your message to the audience.