I feel like something of a scratched record about this, banging on about photographic intentions yet again. But it’s important. Not “life-or-death” important; like football, it’s far more important than that, with all due deference to Bill Shankly.
I’m sometimes shown pictures and asked what I think of them and how they could be improved. (More often I see pictures and offer my opinion uninvited, but let’s skate over that.) After I’ve enquired what the pictures are about, I’m often struck by the impulse to ask “Why bother?” But I don’t usually say it quite like that, mainly because a lot of my images also fall into that category.
When I eventually get an answer to the question “What made you take the shot?” or “What was it about the scene compelled you to press the shutter button?”, the answers invariably include the following, all of them excuses I’ve made myself at one time or another:
It looked nice
And that’s just fine.
But what do you want me to say? “No, it isn’t” doesn’t cut the mustard, and certainly doesn’t make for a comfortable chat. If you were aiming for “nice” then well done. But if you are looking for ways of improving your picture, then making it “more nice” is tricky. Picking apart what “nice” means to you would be a constructive way forward but experience tells me that’s not quite what you’re after.
Occasionally I might suggest taking away the colours and turning it into a monochrome picture. Does it still work? Does it work better? If not we can move right on to our next excuse:
The colours were pretty / bright / striking
A variant on the “nice” theme, but a step forward. We’re getting closer to a motivation. But: did you fill the picture with the colours? If the colour was the important thing, how did you emphasise it?
I wanted a record of it
Buy a postcard?
No, if you are motivated by photography as aide-memoire, I’m not going to knock it. But I would ask if you’re actually taking photographs of the things you really need help remembering. Is it just a catalogue you’re creating, or a scrapbook? Are they the pictures in 10 or 20 years you’ll be poring over with your grandchildren?
Really, thinking about it, they’ll get bored by ANY pictures you make them look at, but they’ll usually try to be very polite about it …
Still – buy a postcard!
It’s meant to be arty
OK, now we can have an in depth conversation about the concept behind the image. We can’t? OK, refer to “nice” above. Oh, you mean the image should speak for itself?
Well, that’s an opinion.
Its a holiday snap
Moving on ….
That’s my wife/children/sundry siblings
… to more dangerous territory. Silence is golden …
It took me days to get this photograph
OK, I can understand the attraction of this sort of photography. Typically wildlife photography can be like this. Doing your homework, getting set up, waiting, spending time looking, seeing your target and eventually going home with a great image. You probably already know how you want to improve the picture, so why not ask directly?
But: as a consumer of the image I really don’t care what it took to take it. For me, it’s an extreme record shot. Almost, but not quite, as incomprehensible as extreme ironing, and veering perilously close to “nice” – see above.
The workshop leader / magazine article / my best friend said it was a classic view
Well, is it? What do you think? What did you do to make your interpretation of it personal? It may be on good authority that what you’re looking at has a pedigree but frankly, so what? You still have to frame and expose your image to your satisfaction, not his. You still have to work with the light at your disposal (or come back later.)
More specifically? Well, perhaps setting the alarm clock a couple of hours earlier would be a good start!
Clearly, motivations for taking photographs vary from person to person. With me, it changes from minute to minute sometimes. But if you want to create pictures that match your expectations or ambitions of them, you need to get specific.
What exactly are you trying to do?
Slow down and think what the end result might look like. Look again at what’s in front of you and describe it to yourself. In words. Out loud if you like or to a friend if you don’t want to be caught talking to yourself.
Start off by describing factually what you see.
From that list, decide what’s important.
Only then take a picture of it
Try to exclude everything else. As much as possible anyway. Zoom in, or walk closer, to it. Fill the frame with it.
Then next time we speak, we can move on to the next question: “How far do YOU think you succeeded in capturing your intention?“
And that’s a much more interesting conversation.
Other articles you might like:
I feel like something of a scratched record about this, banging on about photographic intentions yet again. But it’s important.
We all take disappointing pictures at times. To get out of the habit, we have to learn to see in a different, more conscious way.
In this article I describe some of the aesthetic decisions I made when processing a raw image file to get to picture of Berwick Pier.
Being clear about your intentions for a photograph before you actually press the shutter button is the first step in creating images that say what you want them to say.
One of the hardest lessons to learn when starting with photography is not how to fit everything relevant into your pictures, but how to leave everything else out. Here are three steps I follow when I’m trying to create images with impact.
“Seeing Things” by Joel Meyerowitz was conceived as a “Kid’s Guide to Looking at Photographs”, but it works for older kids too. And why is this just a kids’ book? If you can get past the sub title on the cover page, this is a well written introduction to photographs that might just trigger a few of your own brain cells into action.