Print-makers v. Image-makers

Back in the day, the most common way to view a photograph was as a printed image (or occasionally as a projected slide). With the ubiquity of electronic screens today, we almost forget that prints (or the printed page) were always the final destination of any photograph worth keeping. Now, a very high percentage of photographs never make it to print and are only viewed onscreen. Consequently, those who came to photography in recent years may have little interest in the finely crafted photographic print.

I divide landscape photographers into two general camps: print-makers and image-makers. Print-makers are those photographers who have the final print in mind when they venture out, while image-makers are primarily concerned with sharing photos online, giving little thought to how the photo might eventually be printed. I'm over-generalizing here, but a print by a print-maker is likely to have certain qualities such as heightened detail and sharpness, delicate tones, and smooth gradients that are not likely to be present in the print by the image-maker, who is, after all, only mildly interested in the print as an art object.

When I came back to photography after a long hiatus (20 years or so), I came as an image-maker in the digital age. More recently, I've taken a deeper interest in the print as the ultimate destination of my images. While I'm still concerned about how an image looks onscreen, my primary concern now is how the image looks as a fine print under glass.

Rejection

If an artist submits their work to juried exhibitions, they should plan on having their work rejected a fairly high percentage of the time. And if they make a serious emotional investment into the work, they should also plan to feel the sting of rejection fairly acutely. No one, even well established artists, has their work selected for every show they enter. There are just too many subjective variables at play to expect every juror to single out your work for inclusion. Besides the fact that your work may not be stylistically appropriate for a particular exhibition, jurors inevitably come to the judging table with a truckload of biases. Sometimes those personal preferences work in an artist’s favor, other times they don't. If your work is rejected, the important thing is to shake it off, learn what you can from the experience, and keep plugging away at it.

At Our Best

"At our best and most fortunate we make pictures because of what stands in front of the camera, to honor what is greater and more interesting than we are. We never accomplish this perfectly, though in return we are given something perfect - a sense of inclusion. Our subject thus defines us, and is part of the biography by which we want to be known.”

– Robert Adams

The Echo After the Final Note

In the days of film, much of the creative work that went into a print happened in the darkroom. From Wikipedia:

During exposure, values in the image can be adjusted, most often by "dodging" (reducing the amount of light to a specific area of an image by selectively blocking light to it for part or all of the exposure time) and/or "burning" (giving additional exposure to specific area of an image by exposing only it while blocking light to the rest). Filters, usually thin pieces of colored plastic, can be used to increase or decrease an image's contrast (the difference between dark tones and light tones). After exposure, the photographic printing paper (which still appears blank) is ready to be processed.

Today, the bulk of the creative work happens in what is called the “digital darkroom”. Computer programs such as Lightroom, Photoshop, and Silver Efex mimic the tools we used in the darkroom, while also extending our capabilities far beyond what was ever imagined in the past. The challenge today is not so much what we can do (which is nearly limitless), but how we should limit ourselves so as to not over-process our images.

In the digital realm, the act of printing is essentially a push button operation (once the initial technical hurdles are cleared, which are not insignificant). Because the creative work happens in the computer prior to making the print, the final step is primarily a technical challenge. Ansel Adams described the negative as the score, and the printing process as the performance. Today, the digital negative is the score, post processing in the computer is the performance, and the act of printing is only the echo after the final note of the symphony. 

The Problem with New Tools

The problem with new tools is that we tend to get caught up in their newness, which can result in their overuse/abuse at the expense of the resulting image. These two versions of Natural Water Garden perfectly illustrate this idea (click on the images to view the full size versions).

This image was processed shortly after I purchased Silver Efex Pro a couple of years ago. Even though this version has been accepted into a handful of juried exhibitions, it's clearly over-sharpened and "crunchy" as a result of my, at the time, newfound infatuation with the "structure" tools within Silver Efex. A clear case of letting the tools determine the outcome.

This version was re-processed today using a more subtle process, with just a minimal amount of structure applied within Silver Efex, and some light dodging and burning applied within Photoshop to help draw the viewer's eye into and around the busy composition. This smoother, more refined processing works much better than the heavy-handed processing of the original.

The Giving

“The camera only facilitates the taking. The photographer must do the giving in order to transform and transcend ordinary reality. The problem is to transform without deforming. He must gain intensity in form and content by bringing a subjective order into an objective chaos.”

– Ernst Haas

Trophies

“There are two ways to obtain a trophy; one is to perform a notable act worthy of reward, and the other is to go to the trophy store. The increased popularity of photography, and especially photography of natural subjects, has indeed given rise to a thriving industry of “trophy stores”; that is, products and services specializing in making sure you go home with great images, guaranteed to impress, requiring some investment of time, money and effort, but not necessarily imagination, intellect, emotion or originality.”

– Guy Tal, from More Than A Rock

A Difference of Inches

“I enjoy the camera. Beyond that it is difficult to explain the process of photographing except by analogy: The trout streams where I flyfish are cold and clear and rich in the minerals that promote the growth of stream life. As I wade a stream I think wordlessly of where to cast the fly. Sometimes a difference of inches is the difference between catching a fish and not. When the fly I’ve cast is on the water my attention is riveted to it. I’ve found through experience that whenever—or so it seems—my attention wanders or I look away then surely a fish will rise to the fly and I will be too late setting the hook. I watch the fly calmly and attentively so that when the fish strikes—I strike. Then the line tightens, the playing of the fish begins, and time stands still.”

– Stephen Shore

Stormlight Over Wetland

I added a new photo to the site this morning. Stormlight Over Wetland was one of those digital negatives that never caught my eye, even though it's been sitting in my Lightroom archive for over a year. For some reason, it jumped out at me this morning as I was sipping coffee and cataloging old files. Whenever I stumble upon an overlooked DNG that warrants developing into a finished piece, it feels like a gift.

View the full-size image in the Recent Gallery.

Innocence of Eye

"Innocence of eye has a quality of its own. It means to see as a child sees, with freshness and acknowledgment of the wonder; it also means to see as an adult sees who has gone full circle and once again sees as a child – with freshness and an even deeper sense of wonder.” 

– Minor White