Starting Your Photography Journey
A Deep Dive into Why, as Well as How, to Photograph
This post, which was supposed to be just a small part of the guidebook I’m releasing here on SubStack, has grown substantially in scope and ambition. Something that I thought would be simple and easy to put together has morphed into a deeply-considered guide that covers everything from how to choose a camera to the philosophical reasons of why to even make a photograph. I realized that when I wanted describe how to make a photograph, an investigation of why to make a photograph was absolutely intertwined and essential.
It’s been a lot of fun for me to delve into all of this. The goal is for this guide to be helpful for a wide audience, whether you are just starting or are further along on their journey in photography. I thought that we could jump right into the location guide after this post, but it looks like I’ll need one or two more posts to lay out everything needed to cover a foundation in photography. Because this post in particular is relevant to a wider audience than just those looking for the Maine Coast location guide, this will be released to free subscribers as well as paid.
The Power of Photography
Perhaps the greatest power of photography is its connection what we think of as objective reality. A camera is a machine that records light and shadow mechanically and incredibly accurately. It captures objects in space and time and records them. It captures every little detail we can see with our eyes, and often more.
We accept the reality of photographs because most physical objects remain in the same state and can be observed before, during, and after the creation of a photograph. Also, we see that moments in time that are captured in a photograph fit the recollections of the person or persons witnessing them while the photograph was taken.
We now take all of this for granted, but photography was absolutely groundbreaking when it emerged in the 19th century. It was thought that it would put many artists out of business. Likenesses of the real world that artists had struggled to achieve for all of human history could now be captured quickly and somewhat easily.
Many of the traditional visual artists such as painters, who felt their livelihoods were threatened by this new technology, immediately brought the charge that photography was not art. Because it was supposedly passive and unbiased, its primary utility would be in documentary, not expressive, purposes. Because it captured objective reality, it couldn’t be subjective, a hallmark of artistic expression. They wanted to retain the image that only they used their imaginations, only they were being truly creative.
It didn’t take long for their arguments to crumble. Not that it mattered much to the number of early photographers who were busy making photographs, and making a myriad of creative choices in the process. The simple acts of choosing where to point the camera, how to compose, how bright or dark to expose and where to focus, could all be described as creative and expressive. The fact that it was capturing real moments in space and time could still be true, but it was clear that the intentions of the person wielding the camera were a major factor in how those moments were both chosen and recorded.
This dichotomy of views, of seeing photography as both objective and subjective, has been here all along. It’s built in. This is actually one of the things I love most about photography. It can be a strictly utilitarian record, a simple means of communicating facts visually. But, it can, and often does, whether we like it or not, communicate how we feel about what we are capturing.
Taking an Active Role
What I’d like to argue in this essay, is that when we own the fact that we are not just passive observers, but active participants in our photography, and when we tune in to our reactions and feelings about what is in front of us, and let that guide our creative choices, we will make better photographs. We can either let the camera make the creative decisions for us, or we can take control ourselves.
Stephen Shore, a famous photographer whose work I really enjoy, once tethered a camera to his dog that automatically took a photo every minute, and went for a walk. In his own words, “The resulting images show how a camera sees without any trace of a photographer’s intent, let alone the influence of visual convention.” He was making a point, but of course, the resulting images were terrible.
It doesn’t matter whether or not you view your own photography practice as art. Not many do, and that’s perfectly fine. Most people simply want to make images that record moments in their lives and things they find interesting. That’s still exactly what I’m doing when I make photographs. I just want to show how taking a more intentional approach can result in better photographs.
There’s never been a better time to be a photographer. And, photography has never been more ubiquitous. Today, more-so than ever, we have the ability to record a scene with every little input, or even skill, thanks to the incredible advances in technology. We can just leave our cameras in auto mode, point them at something, and click the shutter. That’s fine, there’s nothing wrong with that. But, if you’re reading this, you’ll know that the results are often unsatisfying compared to what you wanted to capture. You likely want more from your photographs.
The Journey of Photography
As I wrote about in the first post of this series, we all have to start somewhere, and I must admit I had no idea what I was doing when I started in photography. I worked with very little knowledge, or camera gear, for that matter, for quite a while. If you can relate to this, don’t be frustrated. Looking back, I think that this is one of the best parts of the journey.
There are few things in life that are more satisfying than learning a new skill. It’s not in spite of, but really because it’s difficult, that it’s rewarding. Past each mistake and at the end of every frustrating challenge, there is the satisfaction that comes from gaining knowledge and understanding. Of course, this is short-lived. Once we’ve reached one goal, the nature of our brain’s reward system dictates that we must make new ones. The fact that satisfaction can only be renewed through greater challenges is what keeps driving us forward.
At first, the challenge will be to simply figure out how to operate a camera and create an image that looks even close to what you hoped it would look like when you clicked the shutter. Pretty soon, though, this aspect of the challenge will be one that will fades in importance. I’ve seen some photographers lose the drive once they reach this stage, because they seemed to be mostly interested in the mechanical mastery and not the creative, expressive mastery, which is never fully realized. When viewed this way, photography can be an open-ended, lifelong pursuit. It’s not just a craft or a skill to master, but a path to take.
It’s a way of looking at the world. It’s an excuse as well as a means to explore things we are curious about. It’s an opportunity to really notice things, to be aware, to be present. It encourages us to slow down and pay more attention. For many of us, it makes us aware of, and brings us closer to, beauty, in so many moments, all around us.
It also brings us closer to ourselves. I’m not the first to notice this, but when you point your camera at something in front of you, you’re also pointing it at yourself. No, I’m not talking about taking selfies. I’m talking about the way that a photography practice can be a journey of self-discovery. If we are open to it, our photographs will give us critical feedback about our own tastes, our likes and dislikes, our strengths, and much more obviously, to most of us, our weaknesses.
Photography is also a community. I’ve found that photographers are often like-minded, curious and intelligent souls, who use photography as a way to explore and make sense of the world. There are also non-photographers, people that will invite you into their world because they see that you’re a curious person with a camera. They want to share, they want their favorite places to be seen and their stories to be told. That’s been one of the most rewarding aspects of photography for me, the people it has connected me with.
Why Make A Photograph?
To anyone feeling any pressure or expectations at all, I would advise you to release them. There’s no pressure here. The world has plenty of pictures. Too many, really. In fact, I’m going to give you permission to go ahead and not make any photographs. That is, if you aren’t inspired.
What do I mean by that? I mean that you’re going to make your best photos when you are truly moved by what you see, when you are fascinated and interested in what’s in front of you. While awe, curiosity and fascination are my main motivations, you could also be driven by disgust, fear, anger, sadness, or any strong emotion. My point is, if you aren’t feeling strongly about what’s in front of you, then what’s the point? It’s unlikely that you’ll look back on the resulting images and be stirred by the recollection of the moment. It’s also unlikely that your audience, the people who you share your photos with, will feel strongly when viewing your uninspired images, either. It’s the emotional connection that drives engagement, both in the moment we are trying to capture, and hopefully, in the resulting images.
Now, I’ve taken many images of things that I didn’t feel strongly about. After all, I’m a professional photographer who sometimes has to photograph things I’m told to photograph or even feel like I should photograph, regardless of whether or not I like or even want to. I realize that there are many reasons to make a photograph beyond having a strong emotional reaction to what’s in front of you, but what I’m trying to convey is that my best images, the ones that I’m still excited about, are the ones that resulted from my strongest reactions. That’s why I often go to great lengths to put myself in the right place at the right time in hopes of finding those moments that truly inspire me. I also try and be open to them in seemingly commonplace, everyday situations. You never know when you’ll be truly moved by something.
Finding Your Composition
Say we have found a moment that elicits a strong reaction and we’ve decided to pull out our camera and make a photograph. The next question is the absolute crux in photography. What do we do with our cameras? It’s our job to put four corners somewhere, and that’s really where it gets extremely fun. The scene is often chaos. It’s our job to make sense of it, visually, on a two dimensional surface.
When students in my photography workshops ask the question of where to point their camera, I most often follow with another question in reply. What about the scene interests you? What are you feeling? Now, make the image about that. Make the image about what’s interesting and how you are reacting to it. Is it an object or objects in the scene? Is it the color of the sky? The way the waves are lapping against the shoreline? Is there an interesting texture? Do the lines, shapes and forms in front of you look pleasing? Is there an interesting color contrast or pleasing harmony? Is the light falling on your scene in a beautiful way?
Fill the frame with what’s interesting. Try and exclude what isn’t. Photography is a reductive practice, as opposed to additive practice of most visual arts such as painting and drawing. Watch out for distractions, especially in the background and along the edge of the frame.
Thinking about the story you want to tell can be helpful, but it’s better to respond quickly and intuitively than to give it a lot of thought. I would also say to consider the way the lines, shapes, forms, values/tones, textures, patterns, colors, scale, space and their relationships to each other work to build a two-dimensional image. After all, these are the building blocks of what makes a great image. But, I’ll be honest, I’m hardly ever conscious of these things when I make a photo. It’s only after the image is made and I’m reviewing it critically that I notice them. But, apparently, I respond intuitively to a lot of them. With practice, you will, too.
Some of this comes with viewing lots of images that you like. We can’t help but to absorb information and inspiration from what we look at. That’s why it’s important to have good viewing habits. Beauty in, beauty out. Garbage in, garbage out. Some of it comes with reviewing your own images, and seeing where you succeeded and failed in capturing what you intended to capture. Experimentation is important. Move around when you are in the field, try new techniques, and change the way you process your images afterwards.
I know that it takes practice to operate our cameras both efficiently and effectively. That’s a hurdle in the beginning that really does get in the way of responding quickly and intuitively. It takes time to know what works and what doesn’t. Knowledge of visual language, of how to build an image that communicates your intentions, expresses an emotion, and captures the intensity of the moment as you saw and felt it, comes with time. But, over time, we’ll trust ourselves more and more, and react without thinking. We’ll enter a flow state. Our cameras will become an extension of our thoughts, feelings, and desires. A lot of time, we’ll even surprise ourselves, in the best possible way, with what we’ve captured.
Seeing Beyond the Subject
A big part of my efforts in this guide is to point you to great locations. These locations offer what many people would think of as great ‘subjects’. A lot of the time, those are obvious, like lighthouses and boats, rocky shorelines and big views. But, I want you to look beyond the concept of a subject, seeking the richer ideas, concepts and themes behind them. That’s why I wrote about the natural history of Maine in the previous post. That’s why I’m talking about other expressive possibilities in this post.
Sometimes what we are reacting to isn’t even present in front of us, but has to be shown in ways that suggest its presence. Andrew Wyeth often painted empty rooms and fields with no figures present, but said what he was really painting was a portrait of a person he associated with these rooms and scenes. That allowed him to paint how he felt about the person, and how different aspects of the scene suggested different aspects of their personalities. It’s a fascinating way of looking at things.
We also respond intuitively to elements of a scene that are visually interesting, but not easily identifiable. Here we’re getting into abstraction. Abstract art doesn’t attempt to represent external reality, but seeks to convey meaning using shapes, forms, colors, and textures. Through abstraction, themes and concepts that would otherwise be overshadowed by our feelings about an easily identifiable subject can sometimes be more easily explored.
Seeking Originality
In this day and age, we’re very familiar with the approach to photography where we all photograph the same iconic scene at the same angle as everyone else who’s been there before. The internet is absolutely filled with images like this. I do believe there’s a time and place for doing this. If you’ve been inspired enough to want to copy an image, then there are surely valuable lessons to take from it. Often, it’s a great way to learn what goes into making a successful image. It helps to pay attention to what you are attracted to about an image that you enjoy viewing. Is it the way it’s composed, the lighting, the mood, etc.? That said, simply seeking to replicate an image that has been done before will often leave you blind to other possibilities. It will get in the way of making images that are a response to things that you notice intuitively, in the moment, in your own way.
Before I get too hung up on that notion, let’s acknowledge the fact that the world is always new, and so are we. You may have heard it said that no person steps into the same river twice, because it’s not the same river and they are not the same person. I like that way of looking things. My friend Jack Milton likes to say, “even if it has been done before, it hasn’t been done by me.” I like that attitude, because it acknowledges the feeling of discovery when we see something for ourselves for the first time. It also points to the possibility of making an image that is unique to our way of seeing. Only you see the world from your perspective. Only you have the amalgamation of influences and life experiences that make up your vision. Only you are in this moment in space and time.
Just remember, moving past any preconceptions of what you hoped or expected to find at a location or in a scene is most often beneficial. It’s most often the unexpected discoveries that will be your favorites. It’s the times that you find something that no one else has noticed that are the most satisfying.
I’ve noticed that’s true not just in my own work, but in viewing the work of others. The photographers that I most admire are the ones that are making unique and original work. When I look at their images, I see more than just the scene or subject matter. I see aspects of their personality and life experience that they bring to the image. I feel like only they could make the images they make. I see them.
Repeat Visits
It would seem like to have novel and unique experiences, and therefore to create novel and unique images, we need to visit new places. That is sometimes true. It can help to be an outsider, to see something for the first time with fresh eyes. There’s a whole industry built upon this notion. I love traveling and seeing new things. It’s exciting and interesting. I often bring photography students on destination workshops to locations that they’ve never visited and promote this kind of exploration.
Sometimes, we get lucky with unique conditions and exciting weather on a first visit. Sometimes, our research has led us to understand the location enough to come away with something unique and exciting. It does happen.
That said, I’ve found that repeated visits to the same location are often when I connect most deeply and make the most meaningful images. In locations that I’ve seen many photographs of, repeat visits are often what allows me to see beyond the impressions of others and to form my own impressions. In any case, my relationship with a location grows stronger with repeat visits.
As I touched on above, the world is always changing, and so are we. This is especially true in outdoor photography. Thanks to variability in the light at different times of day, conditions in different weather, seasons, and more, what one scene has to offer can and does change dramatically. Unique moments can be experienced and new insights can be found at a location, no matter how many times we visit. With my weather knowledge and repeat visits to locations I love close to home, I’ve pushed the boundaries of this notion perhaps more than anyone I know.
Photographs and ‘Reality’
One of the thorniest topics in photography these days is the traditional connection of photography and reality. I proclaimed in the beginning of this article that this connection to reality was one of photography’s greatest strengths. I still believe that. But, as mentioned above, creative choices and even abstraction can either heighten or obscure the connection to reality, allowing us to explore how the scene made us feel, as well as other concepts. As you’ll see below, how our eyes and minds interpret the scene is different from how a camera interprets it. The differences between subjective and objective perspectives are also extremely hard to delineate. Then we have a whole other set of problems.
Today, more than ever, we have the ability to create an otherwise believable scene, something that looks real, from a conglomeration of different scenes, or even creating it from thin air and your own imagination using AI prompts. We also have the ability to take a photograph and add light, color, contrast, and make other types of adjustments, all of which move the image further away from what it might have looked like in person and change it into something that we wished it had or wanted it to look like. This is challenging the traditional power of photography by taking the believability away from all imagery, not just the dishonest.
Maybe I’m old fashioned, but I would like to think that by retaining some semblance of reality, our images are going to be much stronger because they are believable. When we see something that makes us feel like we could be there, experiencing what is shown in person, then we’re much more likely to be more excited by it. That said, what reality actually looks like is extremely hard to pin down. What is believable or an acceptable version of reality to one person can be completely unrealistic to someone else.
When I hear the argument that a photograph should look like the scene looked like through our eyes, my eyes tend to roll. The truth is that our eyes are an entirely different instrument than a camera. The lenses of our eyes change shape and focus on different parts of the scene, our pupils dilate and contract to let in more or less light, and our brain makes a series of rapid calculations, without thinking, to create the mental picture in our head, all of this shaded by meaning and different ways of seeing because of our own life experiences. The camera could never replicate what we see in our mind’s eye.
The camera, by its nature, sees differently than we do. It only captures about half of the values of light and darkness, or dynamic range, that we see with our eyes, at a time. It focuses on a shallow slice or large area of the scene at once, not multiple shallow slices in rapid succession that are stitched together to create a mental picture of a large area. I accept that, and to a large degree, our human culture has come to accept the camera’s view of the world as reality.
Editing
I see editing in the digital darkroom as a continuation of the creative choices we made in the field. Ansel Adams, one of the most famous ‘straight’ photographers of all time, heavily manipulated his images after capture. This wasn’t with the goal of obscuring reality, but I believe, imbuing it with the feelings and emotions that were felt at the time of capture. I try and do the same.
The most common adjustment I make in the digital darkroom is to brighten dark parts of the scene, like a shadowy foreground and to darken bright parts of the scene, like the sky, so that my eyes more easily travel back and forth to both. When you think about it, this is what our eyes do naturally. We look at the sky and our pupils contract to let in less light, lowering the exposure. When we look into a dark shadowy area, they dilate and let in more light, increasing the exposure. I want to replicate that process that we do so quickly and naturally.
I try to accentuate parts of the scene I like and de-emphasizing what I don’t using digital tools. Again, this is a continuation of what I’ve done in the field, by moving around and changing my composition to remove distractions, and also by exposing either bright or dark to show different parts of the scene the way I want them to be seen. It’s only natural that sometimes, these adjustments move beyond what was really happening at the time.
I’ll admit that I will dodge and burn, darkening distractions and brightening areas that I want the eye to move towards, increasing contrast and color, and making other adjustments that aren’t truly natural, or the way that I saw it. Instead of just trying to convey how I felt about it, I’ll veer into the realm of how I wanted it to look. It’s a tricky game and a slippery slope.
Because this is all so subjective, and because I’m arguing that we practice photography as an expressive art, how much is too much editing is extremely hard to pin down. It’s said that art should challenge the way we see, and again, that’s hard to do when one of the greatest powers of photography is actually attempting to replicate our visual experiences!
When I say that abstraction call help us see past reality to convey concepts and meaning that would otherwise be overshadowed, I’m touching on the same power that editing can have. It heightens our awareness of what we are trying to convey.
So, how do we proceed? The best we can do is to just create however we like to create, keeping in mind that adhering to convention will likely result in more easily relatable work, but perhaps, less creative and expressive. Where you draw the line is up to you.
Conclusion
When I get too bogged down thinking about how to edit a photo, or what is really real, I remember what I mostly love about photography has nothing to do with these things. I love how photography connects me to the world and the people in it. It invites me to explore thing things I’m curious about. It then often leads me to things I wasn’t previously aware of. It invites me to seek out to beautiful places at beautiful times. It helps me to really see the world and teaches me about myself at the same time. It’s an adventure filled with excitement and joy and a practice filled with love and devotion. Everything else, even the resulting images, are secondary.
Your best work will most likely be the result of capturing something you are passionate about, something you are curious about, that you connect with, that elicits strong feelings. Your best work will not be a copy of something that you’ve seen someone else create, but will be unique to your own vision, your way of seeing the world. The unexpected response will almost always be more powerful than one that is preconceived. The images that will resonate with you long into the future will most often be charged with meaning and emotion. By tuning in to what’s most interesting to us about what’s in front of us, and how it makes us feel, and making our images about those things, we make the whole practice of photography more enjoyable and also make stronger images.
I hope you find joy, connection, and meaning in your practice of photography and in the community around it, as I have.
The next post will deal more practical information, including the topics of light and weather, which I love talking about! Be sure to become a paid subscriber to my newsletter to see that and more as it is released.
I very much enjoyed this read, Benjamin. And I'm a Maine-iac.
Having shot along side ya, I can feel your energy and the creativity in this piece!!