Of course it isn't quite as simple as that... there are a number of "gates" through which the photographer's images must pass before they are available to us for analysis. First, they have to survive "first view" - that's the first time the photographer sees his baby and has a chance to decide whether he likes it or not. In this digital age, first view is often on a small screen on the back of the camera. The more impulsive photographer may jab the delete button there and then - a beginner's mistake if ever there was one. The more considered (For which usually read "experienced" photographer knows better, and will view his outputs calmly some time after the event. The distance of time and space should enable him to be more objective in his editing.
The next big gate is "first edit"- of the images taken at the time, only some will be regarded by the photographer as good enough to be seen by the outside world. The third and final gate is "last edit". This is the big one - which images tell the story, how many should be shown and in what order? Whether a single shot, a tryptich or a complete photo-essay, whether a macro shot of a bug or a happy family snap the weeding process is essentially the same.
Some photographers self-edit very well. They understnd and appreciate that "less is more". Others hold the opposite view. They present an optic-nerve numbing parade of dismally monotonous shots that leave the viewer contemplating feigning death as a means of escape. A few years ago this involved sitting on the sofa at somebody's house with an album balanced on your knees (happy snapper) or a slide show ("advanced" amateur) popping in front of you. Now the bores can invade your desktop and your home via the medium of the internet and photo gallery and sharing sites such as Flickr. I'm not blaming the medium, by the way - it is a tool that can be abused like any other.
So. After all that, we have an image, or better a set of images, to assess. They can immediately communicate to us where the photographer was, how much freedom of movement he had, even, to an extent, how tall he is. To a lesser extent we can deduce what interests him, at least by way of subject matter. And here is where the fun starts. Of course some subjects, and the photographers' treatment of them, are more revealing than others. It is hard to get inside a photographers' head looking at still-life close-ups of flowers (a notable exception being the output of Mapplethorpe, of course - using a young man's bottom as a vase for a lily is a bit of a dead giveaway as to the inner workings of the image-taker).
People shots provide the best material, in my experience. Preferably of the candid, unposed variety. They give us two shots at the photographer's psyche. Firstly in his treatment of his subjects - is he sympathetic (think Doisneau) or aggressive (think Wingogrand) or disdainful (think Parr)? Does he empathise wih his subjects, or treat them as objects? Does he engage, or observe? Secondly is his subjects reaction to being photographed. Are they aware or unaware? If the former, what is their reaction? The way they react - the way they look - can speak volumes as to their feeling about the lens and more significantly the man behind it. Do they feel threatened or flattered? Are they relaxed or tense? Or resentful?
The photographer's "use" of people in a shot is also quite telling. Are they the subject, or an afterthought? Do they form part of a cohesive composition or do they appear uncomfortably out of place? There's no right or wrong here - only the chance to tap into the man (or woman) behind the lens.
It's a powerful tool, that transcends intent and reaches into the subconscious.
Consider this image:
...or this one:
...or indeed this:
I took them all, within a six week period, along with others that are similar in tone and theme. When I took them, in my mind, I was simply experimenting. The open door or portal motif that features in each one, together with the solitary but unrecognisable figure in the middle distance evolved rather than my setting up each shot.
Months after I took, and displayed them, mixed in with other shots, another photographer made the connection and linked them together in his mind and through his perceptive comments, in my own. He said that, to him at least, the images spoke of isolation, of alienation and of a journey, or a rite of passage - through the portal to somewhere else. At the time I was in a period of transition in my life and many of the themes that he felt came to him through the images were exactly in tune with my feelings at the time.
Once I realised this, I looked again at images I had captured at various times in my life, and "linked" them to how I was feeling at the time. The images took on a new and very personal dimension as I realised that the lens was not just pointing at the subject, but was also focussing on me.
It doesn't always work. If you go out, for example, to shoot a simple subject- vintage cars at a show, for instance, there is little of you to be "seen" in the resulting images. People shots are best, as I have already opined, and particularly "street" photography, like the shots above; you are more "in the zone" when taking shots like this. The "higher brain" is bypassed, and the "monkey brain" - that primative sub-cortex that has been with us since trees were desirable residences - takes over the shutter button.
Don't take my word for it - give it a try... you may learn something about yourself.
Bill
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- All images on this blog are copyright Bill Palmer and may not be reproduced in any format or medium without permission.- I'm just a bloke with a blog who takes pictures... if you disagree with any of what I write that's fine by me.
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