Within and without Photoshop, there are a lot of ways to tweak one's photos. And a lot of photographers are doing it, including me. By simply adding a texture, pressing a button, selecting a filter, we can change the look of our images instantaneously, easily, and (often) mindlessly.
Here you see two different versions of the same photo. The first one, the red one, is the original. It's a photo of a sign on a red door at the Waldport Marina. I was drawn to the red color and the rustic look of the fish and the lettering. I photographed it a year ago — November 24, 2011.
This morning, I wondered what I could do with it. I wanted to make the fish a bit grungier, so that its texture would be lighter and brighter and would stand out more against the dark red background. But I got distracted. I instead went into Topaz Adjust to see what different overall looks I could give the photo. I selected an effect I never use, which was one of the "solarized dreams" effects.
I liked the way the color turned turquoise at the bottom, how the texture on the door really stood out, how the texture on the fish came forward, and how the letters turned from white to black. All I did was click the button for the effect. I played with the sliders a bit to see what else I could do, but ended up doing nothing more.
In my eyes, the resulting image is fine. It's fun. It's colorful. But it's not very rewarding to me. And I began wondering why. I think it's because my tweaking the photo was really a mindless act. All I did was wonder what would happen if I clicked a certain effect. Yup, that's cool. Now what? There's nothing of me in this photo. There's no real artistry here.
Quite often, when I create a photomontage, there's this solid "knowing," a knowing that something is unique, different, composed well, and makes me feel proud. Do you feel the same way about your work? Do you solidly know when you've done something beyond the ordinary? And you solidly know that it was your talent, your knowledge, your hard work spent learning your camera, your software, that led you to a fantastic result?
Marianne takes a glorious photo of a butterfly and she knows it's the result of years of daily practice, constant research, as well as a highly developed eye that led her to be in the right place at the right time in the right light with the right skills to create that photograph. Jim climbs a hillside to be in the right place at twilight to fill his frame with the city lights below. He knows his camera, knows how he can enhance that glorious cobalt color, and knows he's created something more than terrific. And I photograph a piece of metal embedded in a sidewalk, knowing that later on that bit of metal will become a headland in a final image that may look like a stormy seascape.
We all are trying to set ourselves apart as photographers, artists, painters, whatever. Unfortunately, I believe a lot of us are turning to "instant art," thinking that by pressing a button, clicking on an aging effect, or turning something that was red into something that's turquoise, yellow and orange (as I did above) we have instantly set ourselves apart from everyone else.
Speaking for myself, I just don't feel like an artist when I do that. So I don't consider my fish photo an artistic one. I clicked on an effect, framed the image, and hung it here in this blog. There was none of that "knowing" that I've gone beyond myself. There was no solid sense of having used an artistic eye. No solid sense that I've used my past learning and creativity to come up with this picture.
What's my point? As usual, I'm not sure. In my own work, I'm aware of empty calories. Effects that are fun at the time, but that in the long run just don't feed my artistic soul. So what about you and your own work? Do you get that solid "knowing" feeling when you've really worked to create something unique, something that shows how much you have practiced, learned, and experimented? Or is a lot of what you (and I) create simply empty calories? Fun, filling, but not very satisfactory in the long run?
©Carol Leigh, who now has a slight craving for a cookie...
