When I started writing this entry, it started as a simple retelling of a visit to a local safari park. It wasn't particularly interesting, if I'm honest. As I was writing it, I started wondering if it was the story of the photographs that weren't interesting. I had gone to the safari park as a day out with Pamela, with a secondary objective being to test out a 300mm f/4 prime lens that I had picked up last year and not really tried out yet. Photography wasn't really a big consideration as captive animal photography isn't really all that exciting, unless maybe you're telling a story about captive animals. I was just testing out a lens and seeing if I could get a few cool photos at the same time. We didn't get attacked by any animals so there wasn't a whole load of interest there for anyone reading about it.
I got thinking back to some of the other projects I'd done, including the previous blog entry, "11%". I had been extolling the virtues of taking photographs that mean something to you as a person. Photographs that expand your own understanding of things. I remember saying, when getting my grades back from college, that the project about my Dad had possibly ruined all other types of photography. When you've spent weeks sifting through all your belongings and family photographs and then visited locations all connected with your Dad who died 6 years prior, photos of the flowers in your garden tend to feel a bit less interesting.
No offence intended to those who photograph flowers in their garden.
I kinda feel that photographs of animals in the zoo are a bit like photos of the flowers in your garden. They can look pretty but ultimately are rather shallow. Now I like that photo of the chimpanzee. I'm happy with how it turned out and I don't think I'm boasting when I say that it's an aesthetically pleasing photo. But there's not much more to it than that. It's a snapshot. It's not a snapshot like your friends on Facebook taking photos of burgers or fat seagulls with their phones on a day out. It's a snapshot taken by a trained photographer. But it's a snapshot nonetheless. I didn't trek through a jungle to take it. It's not an animal that has to fight for its daily meals or that's in imminent danger of being killed by poachers. I hopped in a little boat while a nice man took us down a stretch of water to the bit where they keep the chimpanzees. I was lucky enough to be sitting on a bit of the boat where the safety grate wasn't in my line of sight for that chimpanzee. I'm not really trying to say anything with this photograph. So I think when you look at it, there's not much to think about beyond "that's nice".
Take this example:
Compare this photograph to the chimpanzee up there. If you were decorating your house and for some unknown reason had to choose between only these two photos, which would you pick? It'd be the chimp, right? It's a beautiful animal, with nice lighting that is framed and edited well. I think it'd look great as a large print on a wall. Ask what it means however and there's not a lot to say. The story behind it is that it's a chimpanzee in a zoo. There are lots of them around the world.
Now look at the image of that text message from my Dad. It's not exactly a looker. Not something that I'd have on the walls of my house if I'm trying to brighten it up a little. Certainly not something that someone else would have on their walls either. It's a photograph, almost specifically tailored to me. My Dad, my message, my phone. None of that has the universal appeal that a good looking animal has. The composition and lighting are quite utilitarian. I'm focusing on the word "Dad" to draw attention to that and using a macro lens to get in close. It's a photo of a text message. Any attempt to 'pretty it up' would undermine what the photograph is about.
But let's look at the meaning of this photograph. My Dad died in 2010. 6 years later, I still have a text message from him on a phone that I kept for the sole reason that there's a text from my Dad on it. You can tell that it's an older phone and one that's gathering dust so it's been kept specifically. It's normal to keep photographs or other belongings but a text message is different. They are usually disposable. But this is an interaction between him and me. One of the last that I have evidence of. I can't do that anymore. As I look at that message (and I have another one in that phone) it's like he's there talking to me. It's a memento, more personal than most other photographs or belongings. Family photos are a shared thing. This is mine.
It's not something I'd ever shared before I photographed it. It's a very personal thing that I made public. When you expose something that you've kept secret, you expose your vulnerability. I think that the hope is that when you look at the photograph, you don't just look at the light/angle/focus etc and think about the person taking the photograph and what the photograph means to them. What it says about them. When you look at the two photographs above, what do you learn about me?
The chimpanzee photo is an example of what I call "wall art". Looks good on the wall of the house, or cafe. Feels immediately pleasant to look at but is forgotten a few moments later. The second photo (I hope) is a photograph that says something about me. Maybe if you were looking at that photograph on your social media feed you wouldn't find it eye catching enough and skip past it but I think that if you were looking at that whole collection of photos, by the time you reach that photograph in the set you're invested enough to look closer and see the story being told. And hopefully makes people think or relate to it. Everyone messages everyone these days. You might never think that that text message to your friend or family member might be the last you ever send to them.
Now I'm not suggesting that this is some profound statement that makes people re-examine their relationship with family and technology. But there's more going on than with that nice photo of an ape.
But to turn all this on it's head, here's why I think it's important to take "wall art" photos as well as ones that expose a vulnerability in yourself:
It's enjoyable.
Thinking back to the project on my Dad. It was therapeutic, cathartic, empowering, upsetting and stressful. And much more, to be honest. You can't do that to yourself every time you pick up your camera. Sometimes you need to take photos for the enjoyment of taking photos without the burden of trying to change the world around you. And that's what this set was. It was fun. Pamela and I both enjoyed imagining what it'd be like to go on an actual safari and laughed as I squirmed about in the car trying to angle myself for a better shot (that was eventually abandoned and all the shots here were taken outwith the car).
I'm as guilty as anyone of looking at photographs of tourist attractions, models, captive animals, flowers etc and thinking, "who cares? We've seen this a million times". Then I'll find a project that interests me and I'll think that all is good in the world. Until there's only so much of that I can ingest as well. I recently bought "Moments" by Hal Buell, a book of Pulitzer prize winning photographs throughout the years. There is, as you'd imagine, some stunning and moving work in there. But there's no way you could read through it all in one sitting. Or at least I couldn't. I had to take breaks to recover.
It's like that taking photographs too. Over the last few months, I've been involved in a couple of relatively big projects. The first was a behind the scenes look at an amateur dramatic production. I photographed them from rehearsals right through to show night and in the end I had over 3000 photos to edit. The write up and photos will be appearing on the site soon. The other was the house move. Both of these were involved and heavy going projects for their own reasons. I enjoyed them both but I couldn't really jump into something else like that again so quickly. Well, I could have if I had needed to but I chose not to .
What I did choose was to spend a bit of time taking photos without worrying about the impact that they'd have on my career or, in the case of the house photos, whether I'd miss something only to never see it again. So in the last 2 weeks, as well as these animal photos, I've photographed a day-trip on a steam train and did a photoshoot with a friend with modelling ambitions. Relaxing, stress free photography that I enjoyed doing and got some cool photos at the end of it. I can't complain.
It could be argued that the discussion here is more "snapshots vs photographs" or even "what is art?". Admittedly, I could have found more appropriate examples of photographs from my library but these were recent and I like sharing and discussing recent photographs.
But even if I'd picked visually driven studio photographs and statement driven photographs to compare, I think the point would still stand. Visually striking photographs with no underlying statement offer short term entertainment that doesn't stay with you. Meaningful photographs can have an impact on you regardless of the lighting, composition or other technical details.
As a viewer of photographs, I think I get bored easily with superficially beautiful photographs. Even the good ones can only hold my attention for so long and rarely do I find myself thinking about them at any point after I've moved on. There needs to be a story for that.
As a taker of photographs, I have fewer hang ups. I'm happy to switch between the two approaches as I feel like it. Though that's not always been the case. When I left college, it took me a long time before I was happy just taking photographs for the sake of it. I had convinced myself that every photo had to be deeply personal and had no interest in doing anything resembling 'snapshot photography'. It was months afterwards (when we went to Munich) that I found myself snapping away with no story to the photographs. I think that's the benefit of taking photographs for yourself and not worrying about what others will think of them. You enjoy taking them, you enjoy sharing them. If other people like them as well, it's a bonus but not the goal.
So looking back at the photos from the safari park, I don't think they're going to change the world. Or even my portfolio. But that doesn't matter. I'm guessing that most photographers wouldn't be too impressed by my ability to photograph animals as they sit a few feet in front of me and that doesn't matter either. What does matter is that I had fun taking them and might have another photo to stick upon the kitchen wall. So what really matters is if Pamela likes them as she's the one who decided on the decor haha!
Sometimes I want to be immerse myself into something and put my heart and soul into it and sometimes I want to leave my heart and soul where they are and just enjoy photographing. Knowing when to choose one and just knowing that you can prioritise one over the other without it feeling wrong, is a blessing. Ultimately, I think that more personal photographs are more fulfilling for both the photographer and the viewer. Paul: Memories of My Father affected me personally and the way I understand photography in ways that I couldn't have imagined prior to starting it. I don't think that kind of thing would ever be possible shooting pretty models or animals in a zoo. But that doesn't mean that everything you do has to be part of an over arcing commentary on the world or laying your soul bare for everyone to see (often that happens even when you aren't trying, to be honest). Sometimes you just want to enjoy yourself and it's worth remembering that that's okay too.