LensWork - Photography and the Creative Process

Each of us (both as art-maker and as art-lover) makes decisions about our relationship with art -- ours and other's. What is the purpose of our art? What art do we choose to surround ourselves with? Conscious of it or not, we all have a "personal philosophy" about art. Here's mine.

Here's a Thought… #2778 with Brooks Jensen Photographs Themselves Are Symbols Yesterday I was talking about how we think and feel in symbols. Of course the important topic I left out was the fact that photographs themselves are symbols. When we are waiting in the doctor's office and see that beautiful landscape hanging on the wall in the waiting room, we're not actually looking at the landscape but rather at a symbol that represents the landscape. That symbol has an intended purpose, to make us feel better and less stressful about our doctor appointment. All photographs are symbols. If so, wouldn't it make sense that we should study how symbols are made and used? Become a member of LensWork Online and have access to all 2700+ Here's a Thought… commentaries.

Here's a Thought… #2776 with Brooks Jensen Cluster Mode Photography I interviewed David Hurn (MAGNUM) when we published him in LensWork and was fascinated by his description of Magnum photography. I'll abbreviate his technique: 95% of being out photographing is not photographing. The way he described it was that Magnum photographers spend almost all of their time just looking, observing, being there and being aware. Then, when something of interest happens, out comes the camera for a series of clustered images shot with rapidity before the camera is retired, awaiting the next opportunity. For years I've applied his approach even to landscapes and I believe he had it right Become a member of LensWork Online and have access to all 2700+ Here's a Thought… commentaries.

Here's a Thought… #2774 with Brooks Jensen Plein-air Photoshop You're familiar with plein air painting, that open air approach to painting at the scene, in the environment, outside the four walls of the painters studio. Why can't we do that? How different would our pictures be if we were to process them at the scene, in Photoshop, with the subject still before us? Normal photo processing takes place elsewhere, from our memory, using the camera's capture which might be years or decades ago. I wouldn't be surprised if someone has actually done plein air Photoshop, but I've never heard of a photographer who did. The closest similarity I can think of might be shooting Polaroids in the field, but I'm wondering about Photoshop, on a laptop, where you can still see the scene before your eyes. Become a member of LensWork Online and have access to all 2700+ Here's a Thought… commentaries.

Here's a Thought… #2772 with Brooks Jensen That Special Travel Feeling Why is it that travel seems to precipitate a heighten sense of excitement to photograph that is missing from our home or daily routines? Is it simply that we are trying "to take it all in" while traveling? If so, can we purposely develop that "take it all in" attitude at will? At home? After all, a visitor from some distant land might travel to your home town with that same "take it all in" mind and be fascinated with your everyday experiences. Become a member of LensWork Online and have access to all 2700+ Here's a Thought… commentaries.

Here's a Thought… #2770 with Brooks Jensen Yes, Seagulls There are some subject clichés that are so cliché they become uber clichés. I would be willing to bet that every one of you have a photograph of a seagull in your archives that you've never shown to anyone because, well, it's a picture of a seagull. Does that mean seagulls are overtly non-photogenic? Or does it mean that they are inherently difficult to photograph without the picture becoming a cliché? I suppose the same could be said for sunsets, dewy spider webs, and kittens playing with yarn. That said, nothing is more cliché than a photograph of a seagull. Which is maybe the best reason to attempt a Seeing in SIXES project of seagulls. Become a member of LensWork Online and have access to all 2700+ Here's a Thought… commentaries.

Here's a Thought… #2768 with Brooks Jensen Clouds and No Clouds Looking through our archives at all our previous work can uncover some of the most interesting things we might never see otherwise. A while back I had a revelation about clouds. It seems that for unknown and unconscious reasons, when there are beautiful puffy clouds in the sky casting intermittent shadows and sunbeams on the land, I tend to photograph with wide-angle lenses. My grand landscapes almost always include clouds. I wasn't aware of that. Conversely, days that are primarily overcast without shadows I naturally tend to photograph details, close focus work, even macro photography. Am I missing something? Is this a valid strategy or a bad habit? Become a member of LensWork Online and have access to all 2700+ Here's a Thought… commentaries.

Here's a Thought… #2766 with Brooks Jensen From Whence the Inspiration There are photographers who prefer not to view the work of other photographers. I understand the concept, but I can't help but wonder what they are missing? Do they also not listen to music, read novels or poetry? Watch films or talk with others? I've always thought of art as a Grand Conversation, a conversation that spans time and space. My art is a response to those from the past as well as those not yet born. One of my most fond photography memories was sitting next to Oliver Gagliani in his living room, listening in silence to Mahler's 4th symphony in its entirety. When the music ended, he pulled out a set of prints that that were inspired by Mahler's music Become a member of LensWork Online and have access to all 2700+ Here's a Thought… commentaries.

Here's a Thought… #2764 with Brooks Jensen Archive or Burden We spend our life amassing a pile of prints that form our archive. It can also be said that our archive is a burden that our heirs will be responsible for whether or not they want it. We can't take it with us, unless the software engineers figure out a solution to this pesky problem of mortality. Maybe we should be buried with all our art like ancient Egyptian kings, taking all our important possessions with us to the next world. Become a member of LensWork Online and have access to all 2700+ Here's a Thought… commentaries.

Here's a Thought… #2762 with Brooks Jensen Understanding Fatigue and Exhaustion There are times when I try to go photographing in spite of feeling exhausted. It never works. This week is one of those times. I just can't bring myself to get excited about grabbing my camera and getting out there. Worse, I feel guilty about it. As I've thought about this in the torpor of my fatigue, I think I've had a flash of insight about this. Become a member of LensWork Online and have access to all 2700+ Here's a Thought… commentaries.

Here's a Thought… #2760 with Brooks Jensen The Cynic in Me This is the best time in the history of photography to be a photographer. That said, the cynic in me can't help but worry about the future of photography as an art medium. Because it has become so easy to make a technical stunning photograph, I wonder if the mystery in the craft has disappeared? If it's easy and everyone can do it well, is it still an admirable medium for making art? Become a member of LensWork Online and have access to all 2700+ Here's a Thought… commentaries.

If you want to insult a photographer, accuse them of "spray and pray." It's a not so subtle way of saying they are relying on luck rather than talent. There are, however, two instances where I think spray and pray not only makes sense but is a pretty intelligent strategy: capturing a fleeting expression in a portrait, and using a long exposure time in a handheld composition. Besides, when your photograph succeeds, will anyone care how you arrived at that success?

Here's a Thought… #2757 with Brooks Jensen Entering the Creative Bubble The world of athletics can be divided into two different sets of action. There is the preliminary part of preparation. Then there is the performative part of the competition. I think this provides a useful metaphor for photography and points out an interesting idea about preparation. When I'm out with my camera, my goal is to enter the creative bubble and starting the work of being a photographer. Like the athlete that stretches and warms up before the competition, what should I be doing as a photographer to prepare myself before entering the creative bubble? What is the creative equivalent to stretching and warming up? Become a member of LensWork Online and have access to all 2700+ Here's a Thought… commentaries.