As I follow many artist blogs, I often come across statements, comments, essays that, although the writer is talking about painting, equally applies to us as photographers.
One of those artist blogs is written by Katharine A. Cartwright, an artist whose work I admire. Here's a link to her blog.
In her post dated January 10, 2011, she wrote:
Years ago, I became aware of the fact that I was only painting “pretty pictures.” There was no substance, no unique viewpoint, and no indication that I had anything important to add to the dialogue of art. This realization occurred during my first semester of studio painting in college three decades ago. The professor commented that my work was worthy of a department store and not much else. It was unoriginal and ordinary - vacuous. His comment was critically important to making me realize that I was a technician and not an artist. I had great painting technique – and that was all.
And it made me wonder. Are we creating pretty, but "vacuous," images? Postcards? Calendar art? Nothing wrong with postcards and calendars. Nothing wrong with incredible technique. Striking images. But are we taking our technique, combining it with thought and soul, and creating something beyond postcards and calendars?
Our challenge is that photography is so reality-based. We see something and we determine what to edit out of the frame. A painter sees a blank canvas and decides what to place into the frame. To move away from stark realism, a lot of us are experimenting with technique, with sweeps and swipes and Lensbabies and filters and post-processing blending and textures. We're seeing a lot of purposely un-pretty pictures: graffiti, dirt, peeling paint, grunge, weathered wood, and we're finding a lot of beauty there (well, some of us are!).
I'm not sure where I'm going with this. I appreciate superb technique. Perfect images. But sometimes, sometimes, perfection can be boring. Perfection can be soulless. Perfection can appear factory-produced. The difference between a piece of Fiestaware and piece of handmade pottery.
I still don't have a conclusion. Do we all need to go through a "perfection phase" before we can grow further? Do we even need to grow further? Is it enough to be content with the pretty pictures we're creating or do we strive for more? Each of us has his or her answer. What's yours?
