BUT IS IT ART?

CAVEAT: The following article addresses a highly subjective topic for which there is little authoritative documentation. Opinions expressed herein are based on research, observation, and experience, but are ultimately just one person's thoughts on the matters addressed. Readers are encouraged to explore the topic thoroughly through this and other sources, being reminded that all opinions, regardless of source, contain some measure of validity in their argument.

Henri Cartier-Bresson. Robert Mapplethorpe. Ansel Adams. Helmut Newton. Eve Arnold. Jock Sturgis. David LaChapelle. Petter Hegre. Dorothea Lange. All these names represent photographers whose work behind the camera is legendary and awe inspiring. Many of their works have been framed and hang on the walls of prestigious museums. Some have been sold at auction for hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Yet, despite how wonderful these images may appear, no matter to what degree the skill and precision is appreciated, society still finds itself needing to ask the question: is it art? While it is understandable that the question would be asked during the 19th century when the medium was in its infancy, that photographers, buyers, and critics still feel the compulsion to add their opinion to the compendium of answers delivers a disturbing realization that we are no closer to definitive decision than we are eliminating cancer.

Many photographers regard the mere raising of the question in a most defensive manner. How dare anyone question the artistic nature of photography? Has the medium not proven itself over time? Does not its increasing acceptance by art dealers and museum curators promote photography's artistic validation? Has not public and academic opinion of photography elevated it to hang within the hallowed halls of artistry?

Those in opposition remain just as adamant, however, that photography, by its very nature, can never be art, will never be art, and that to consider photography as art is to fail to grasp the very nature of art itself. Changes in methodology and technology only serve to further solidify their arguments. As an increasing number of people pick up cameras and point them at various objects, the argument for photography as art, in the opinion of its critics, only erodes.

From the very outset, one does well to accept that simply because one picks up a camera and takes a picture one does not automatically become an artist any more than does using a paint brush or a chisel. Not all photography is intended to be art, regardless of how it may be gathered and exhibited. The pictures of a child's party on their fourth birthday, while endearing, are not art. Photographs of the winning score in a championship ballgame are memorable, but not art.
Images of the family pet chasing its own tail, while amusing, are not art.

Consider the following photograph, taken in the staging area of a major New York City event:

The picture is interesting in that it provides the viewer with the seldom-seen perspective of what happens before the "big show." Spontaneous and un-posed, the image smacks with the sort of realism that makes for interesting conversation and endless speculation as to exactly what is going on. Without question, there is a story here just waiting to be told. Still, this photograph is, at best, editorial and, in the opinion of those more conservative, pornographic and exploitative.

Given that so many billions of "pedestrian and vernacular" photographs exist, one must immediately modify the question to consider whether perhaps some photographs can be art while others, such as the image above, are not. Applying such discrimination to the medium, however, may not make the argument in favor of photographic art any easier, for such magnified inspection inevitably brings to greater light what some might consider the artistic shortcomings of the field.

Arguments against photography as art are strong, despite the fact they fundamentally have not changed since the camera was invented. When questioned, most critics will point to the following matters:

1. Photography is mechanical. No matter what the photographer and/or their staff does to prepare, control and manipulate the set, the fact remains that it is the camera, a mechanical device, not the photographer, that captured the image. Challenging photography as an artistic medium, Ayn Rand wrote:
   

   Photography is a mechanical means of producing whatever is put in front of the camera. When you speak of an "artistic" photograph, what you mean is that the photographer exercised [some] choice in his [selection and] arrangement of the material which his camera is to reproduce .... But the mere process of photographing, the mechanical part of it, is not art because no choice is involved: the camera operates the same way regardless of the nature of the material. [Fiction-Writing. Lecture 1]

   
   One might attempt to argue that through the manipulation of shutter speed, aperture, ISO and white balance photographers are exercising at least as much control as a sculptor. Still, it is the camera, not the photographer, making key decisions as to how to interpret color, light, texture and form. All the photographer does is set what are, by any argument, fairly wide parameters within which the camera does its work.
   
   Additionally, art historian Edgar Wind wrote:
   

   What precludes photography ... from becoming 'entirely art,' although it may have 'something artistic about it', is the crucial surrender of the pictorial act to an optical or chemical agency which, however carefully set up and controlled by the photographer, must remain automatic in its operation. [Art and Anarchy, pp. 138-140]

   Modern advances in photography such as auto-focus and digital manipulation only serve to make the argument of automation stronger. Automatic features, software filters and digital processing submit even more of the act of photography to pre-determined outcome. Rather than the questionably fluid control of chemical processing, modern photographers use technology to apply techniques whose outcome was determined by a software engineer in Palo Alto. Can one truly say they are being artistic when so little actual control lies in their own hands? Photographers do well to lose sleep in answering the question.
   
   
2. Photography voids uniqueness. With most any other art medium, there is but one original, signed by the artist. There is evidence of the artist's hand on the art. Photography defies that singleness, the concept that an image may be one-of-a-kind. Indeed, hundreds of thousands of prints can be generated from a single negative. Digital images can be shared electronically with millions of viewers simultaneously. While some might argue that this development brings art 'within the reach of the masses," the ability to mass produce images renders them pedestrian and common-place. There is nothing "fine" about a work for which there are 150,000 exact copies.
   
   Walter Benjamin wrote in 1936:
   

   The technique of reproduction detaches the reproduced object from the domain of tradition. By making many reproductions it substitutes a plurality of copies for a unique existence. [Illuminations. "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction"]

   Benjamin's argument, which he applied not only to photography but also to recorded music and film, echoes a consistent criticism from the art world that one can never look at a photograph and be sure of its origin nor how many other exact copies of the work are hanging elsewhere in the world. Essentially, photography defies the uniqueness that has long separated art from manufacturing.
   
   This argument does not deny the skill or vision that may be present in a photograph, but equates photography to more utilitarian crafts such as furniture making or rug weaving. A finely produced chair may be quite beautiful in its design and construction, but that that it can be duplicated so as to fill a thousand different living rooms negates its ability to become art. Carpet designers in North Georgia may create intricate templates for astonishing rug patterns, but that one may walk from room to room to room and observe the exact same pattern on each floor and then have that pattern placed in one's rompus room without disturbing the display denies any pretense of art.
   
   Over the years, some photographers keenly aware of this shortcoming have attempted to compensate by destroying the negative after a single print is made. Indeed, such extreme measures may help to inflate the value of a piece, but with modern digital photography even that option is no longer present. With the technical ability to retrieve even deleted documents and images from a hard drive, multiple copies of an image may exist long before it is ever committed to print.
   
   
3. There is no selectivity to photography. Photography does not create, it merely captures. Photography is inherently tied to reality in all its detail and, increasingly, high-definition form. No matter what one may do to an image in processing, the fact consistently remains that, at some point, the base element had to actually exist long enough to be photographed. Photographers cannot simply select an image from their mind and transfer it to the camera. What one photographs must be real.
   
   This puts photographers at a disadvantage and, arguably, defies art. Painters and sculptors may create whole masterpieces from pure fiction and imagination. While they may use models and even photographs as reference, they are not bound to duplicate what is real, but can alter immediately any form or element they wish.
   
   With other forms of art, the viewer may ask of any element, "Why is that there?" and know that the answer relies in some fashion upon the artist's choice of inclusion. Photography yields a very different answer, however, in that objects exist in a photograph because they existed in reality. While finely composited photographs such as those of David LaChapelle may seem to defy this argument, even those elements of composition must each some how, some where, actually exist before they can become part of his final image.
   

These are but three primary objections to photography as an art form that persist to present day. Other perhaps less enthusiastic objections are made in terms of the photograph's relationship to history, the relationship of photography to randomness and its subjectivity to accident, and the argument that photography is ultimately a scientific process that needs neither human intervention nor creativity to exist.

Perhaps one of the most valid criticisms of photography comes in the writing of the late Susan Sontag, whose intimate relationship with celebrated photographer Annie Leibovitz post-dates much of what she wrote on the subject. In her 1978 book, On Photography, Sontag wrote:

Photography is acquisition in several forms. In its simplest form, we have in a photograph surrogate possession of a cherished person or thing, a possession which gives photographs some of the character of unique objects. Through photographs, we also have a consumer's relation to events, both to events which are part of our experience, and to those which are not - a distinction between types of experience that such habit-forming consumership blurs. A third form of acquisition is that, through image-making and image-duplicating machines, we can require something as information (rather than experience). Indeed, the importance of photographic images as the medium through which more and more events enter our experience is, finally, only a by-product of their effectiveness in furnishing knowledge dissociated from and independent of experience. [On Photography. Harmondsworth, Penguin, 1978. p. 154]

To the extent that photography is just that - acquisition - one might make the argument that it can never be art, no matter what intention or inclination might be applied by either photographer or viewer. If all one is doing is to capture an event, a time, a place, a setting, then wherein lies the creativity, the originality, the imagination requisite in any art form? If a photograph can be duplicated by another photographer and the two set side-by-side as identical, how can the medium ever deliver the truly original work of art?

Photographers do not aid the argument regarding art when they themselves attempt to label as art those inferior images so poorly constructed that they would have best died on the camera, or so horribly mis-processed as to generate embarrassment. Novelty is not art. Perhaps the most frequent fatality to photographic art comes at the hands of the amateur digital shutter bug who is overly and unduly impressed by merely desaturating an image, creating a sloppy and ill-conceived form of an image that suffered miserably in color and is only slightly less offensive in black-and-white. Equally destructive is the image to which any number of Photoshop filters are mis-applied across the entire photograph rendering it obnoxiously obscene in its loathsome void of artistic merit. How can one possibly expect the medium of photography to be taken seriously within a well-established and entrenched art community when too many psuedo-photographers continue to pompously claim as art those images so void of even minute aesthetic interest as to cause the viewers eyes to bleed?

Photography cannot be taken seriously as an art medium so long as those who stand behind the camera approach the work in a cavalier, profit-minded, shoot-till-you-get-something attitude. Such a mindset reduces photography to a frivolous past time, an energy-consuming hobby for the busy body with not enough constructive tasks to perform. Photographs taken without consideration for genuinely artistic element have less value than the paint-by-numbers picture sold by a dirt-encrusted child at a flea market.

If photography is to be taken seriously as an art form, it must present to the public a level of aesthetic presence sufficient to overcome the criticism laid against it. While the imposition of strict rules or tests would be largely inappropriate and stifling to creativity, photography must adequately address four very basic and fundamental concerns before it may raise itself to the elevated status of art.

1. Form. More than merely a definition of genre, form speaks to the very construction and composition of a photograph. Simply pointing a camera at the horizon and calling it a landscape is not sufficient. Merely undressing a young woman and taking her picture against a black background does not create art. The flowers in one's garden may be quite beautiful, but stepping outside and popping off a few quick shots does nothing more than create a record of the flowers' growth.
   
   Form is about substance, composition, framing, and presentation of one's subject. Thousands of people have taken pictures of the arid grounds across the Amercian West, but it is Ansel Adam's careful attention to form that sets the standard for landscape art. Hundreds of images exist of migrant workers during the era of the Great Depression, but it is the form of Dorothea Lang's "Destitute Pea Pickers in California. Mother of Seven Children. Age Thirty-Two. Nipomo, California" that brings the image to our attention and wonder how such things may be. Untold millions of pictures of nude women exist, but it is form that sets Helmut Newton's work apart from the pornography that plagues our senses.
   
   Form requires that a photographer actually think before snapping the shutter. Art is not created by happenstance or accident, but through willful construction in studying and understanding the subject, giving due consideration to perspective, how the image will be viewed, the balance of light and shadow, the play of reflection and the tone of color. For photography to be more than just "acquisition" of what exists, the Form of the image must excite us, extend beyond the ordinary of what the eye may casually see and assist the viewer in seeing something more than the mere reality of an every-day world. Without form, all one has is a most vernacular snap shot.
   
   
2. Function. What is the purpose of a photograph? Whose agenda does the image serve? What message is intended, or inferred, by this picture? Function addresses the question as to why an image exists. Fashion photographs exist to sell clothes. Editorial photographs exist to portray news and events. Scientific photographs exist to document what is.
   
   Art, by contrast, must go further in its function. Insufficient to be simply aesthetically pleasing, artistic photography necessarily invokes symbolism, inference and ambiguity as tools for portraying a message or telling a story. Artistic function may certainly be all about the portrayal of beauty, but in doing so the photograph must excel in the manner through which it declares such beauty in original methods not ordinary to human experience.
   
   The artistic photograph must hold at its core that its purpose is to first be art. There is no room for blatant commercialization or profit-seeking. Pandering to the unwashed masses with images of depravity, violence and gore run counter to any artistic merit. Whatever the message, whatever the symbolism, the foundational function of art is that it be art first and foremost.
   
   
3. Quality. Artistic photography must stand out from the mundane, the ordinary, the contrived, and the plebeian. Here is where photography must challenge the criticism of being mechanical and void of selectiveness through the creation of images of sufficient quality as to make evident the hand and spirit of the photographer.
   
   Artistic photographs must deny any form of cheap digital trickery or painful attempts to cover a lack of talent and vision. Regardless of the processing methods that may be applied, the base image must be of superior photographic and artistic quality before any processing begins because there surely will not be sufficient improvements to quality applied after the fact. Attention to exposure, depth of field, noise levels, highlight and shadows and print quality are all paramount in creating an artistic image.
   
   The quality of an artistic image must be strong enough to allow the viewer to not notice its presence. A quality photograph allows the viewer to ponder, to think, to linger over an image without being distracted by a cumbersome shadow, a blown-out highlight, or disturbing noise. Neither does a quality photograph distract from itself with "hey, look what I can do" Photoshop antics. Th person viewing a work of art should never have reason to wonder how an image was achieved, but given the freedom to marvel in its glory and delight in its presence.
   
   
4. Value. What makes this photograph unique? What separates one image from all the hundreds of thousands taken from the same location under the same circumstances? What prevents another photographer of similar skill with similar equipment from taking exactly the same shot and achieving identical results?
   
   To call an image a work of art is to infer that there is something special about that image, that what exists on the paper is irreplaceable and deserving of careful attention so that it might be preserved. Art longs to be cherished, prized, and set apart from the contrived and mundane elements of life. Therefore, that an artistic photograph establish value is critical.
   
   To that end, photographers must first strive to be original and unique in their compositions, a task which is not getting any more simple. Each photographer must explore their own ideas and concepts and not allow themselves to be snagged into duplicating the work of others, or even themselves, simply because the concept is popular, even when it may be profitable.
   
   Photographers must also learn to jealously guard against the over- and mis-use of their photographs. Allowing too many copies to become circulated, or excusing the infringement of copyright not only devalues the works involved, but everything the photographer produces, and at a larger extent, lowers the public perception of photographic art as a whole. Art that is too readily available looses its value and dilutes its meaning beyond any hope of repair.

Given such high standards for any photograph to achieve status as an artistic image, one becomes aware of just how few photographs have deservedly earned the title of being an artistic photograph. Without question, truly artistic photography is an almost minuscule proportion of the pictures produced . The number of photographers whose work demonstrates true originality in form, depth of function, attentive quality and legitimate value is significantly smaller than those who dare to claim such a position.

Photographers who think they can foist onto the art buying public myriad black-and-white photographs of what lies between them and the horizon, or clever application of digital gimmicks are playing the role of fools. To those who truly know and understand all that art is and should be, photography is still a questionable medium whose place in the art world, though gaining some acceptance, is still highly suspect. The continued inundation of gross and inferior photographs diminishes the value of all photography and accentuates the criticisms leveled against it as an artistic medium.

There is a strong desire on the part of many in the art world to find artistic merit in photography, and one can legitimately argue that there are sufficient examples to place photography within the hallowed realms of fine art. Since 1993, major art auctions have sold major works of photographic art for hundreds of thousands of dollars. There is a willing and anxious market waiting for truly artistic photographs.

However, the burden is squarely on the shoulders of photographers to create works that rise above the noise of mediocrity and deliver images that are more than mere "acquisition" of a subject. Photographers must bring to their work a sense of purpose, a reason for being, and the ability to extend beyond what simply exists. Without such commitment and attentiveness to form, function, quality and value, photographs are nothing more than image recordings and photographers are merely machine operators and none are anywhere close to art.

THE FINE ART OF CRITIQUE

"Here is a picture I took. Please let me know what you think, both good and bad."

Such statements adorn the forums of too many Internet pages from presumably professional photography sites to social networking spaces. Among photographers, and artists in general, there is a somewhat egotistical but nonetheless genuine desire to know that one's work is accepted, understood, and appreciated. Novice photographers who are sincere in their desire to improve know that advice from those with more experience may well aid them in their own education.

Unfortunately, too often the replies generated by such attempts at public discourse are either dismissive drivel such as "nice shot" or "I like it," or horrific diatribes of venomous hate and ridicule. Rarely do such conversations contain reasonable, well-thought knowledge and even more rarely is the proffered advice of any actual constructive value. As such, unmoderated and unprofessional forums are largely a severe waste of one's time and energy, satisfying only the over-inflated egos of those whose self-serving comments are a weak attempt to masque their own short comings.

Despite the failings of these plebeian parlors of pontification, genuine and knowledgeable critique is immeasurably valuable to photographers and artists at most any stage of their career. Academic critique provides direction, guidance and encouragement in a manner that is clear, useful, and well-thought, void of knee-jerk reactions, unnecessary homiletics, and accusations of inferiority. Criticism is best a gently applied tool offered with the understanding that photography, like any art, is largely subjective and that, in the end, the only opinion that really matters is that of the person hanging the picture on their wall.

Art criticism follows a standard four-step process of Description, Analysis, Interpretation, and Judgment. Each portion is applied in order so that the criticism is delivered through a careful and intelligent examination of the work. Through this process, both the reviewer and the photographer should come away with a better understanding of the work and its impact. Applying the same process to all manner of photography is perhaps the closest one may come to achieving the most constructive level of comment.

To better understand the process of critiquing images, let us consider the contents of each step.

1. Description. Look, carefully, thoughtfully, expansively at the picture. Consider first not one's immediate opinion of quality, but rather define exactly what is there to be seen. What photographic elements are present in the image? Which technical elements have been applied? Are processing methods obvious enough to be identified and, if so, what are they?
   
   Also important here is information from the photographer such as the title of the work, camera settings, environmental considerations and, if available, the photographer's statement. The purpose of this step is to identify as much information about the work as possible before making any subjective comment.
   
   
2. Analysis. Consider the work as a complete and thorough composition. Here, one's understanding of the technical aspects of photography, art and design come strongly into play. Elements requiring attention are:
   
   
   • Contrast
   • Lighting
   • Framing
   • Grain/Noise
   • Focus
   • Depth of field
     
   • Processing
   • Print quality (where applicable)
   • Line
     
   • Space
   • Form
   • Color
   • Perspective
   • Balance
   • Proportion
   • Movement/Rhythm
   • Emphasis
   • Harmony
   
   Without a thorough consideration of each element, a criticism is incomplete and any further evaluation is ill-conceived.
   
   
3. Interpretation. Here is where one's personal views first come into play by describing what emotions and thoughts the piece invokes. Relate how one feels when looking at a picture. Is the subject familiar? If so, how is this photographer's point of view different or similar to other photographs of the same subject? How does one particular photograph relate in terms of style and content with similar works by the same photographer? Does the photograph seem to have a specific message or meaning, and if so, how well does the image accurately portray that message?
   
   One must take care in the choice of verbiage one uses when constructing this portion of the criticism. Words such as pretty, ugly, beautiful, horrible, have little place or value. Use a vocabulary that is non-threatening and avoids being trite, condescending or self-serving.
   
   Do not shy away from asking questions that the picture may not seem to immediately answer. Questions such as, "what was the photographer's relation to the subject?" are wholly appropriate and the eventual answer to that question may shed considerable light on the interpretation of the piece.
   
   Finally, consider here how the image relates to photography and society in a larger sense. Is there a similarity between this image and that of other photographers? What are the social connotations of this image? Is the average person without knowledge of photographic elements likely to understand and appreciate the image in the same way as the photographer?
   
   
4. Judgment. The primary purpose of this step is to establish and explain the value of the photograph. Historically, it is at this point many art critics question whether photography contains artistic merit at all, primarily based upon the perception that the pedestrian qualities of the field belie the need for either talent or skill, thereby eliminating value. Therefore, a primary consideration at this juncture must be the sometimes painful question: does this picture demonstrate qualities representing a quantity of talent and skill sufficient to establish a measure of value? Simply saying that a picture is good or ugly is woefully inadequate. What makes this picture valuable on both a personal and professional level?
   
   Also essential to establishing value is the question of originality. What makes this particular image different from other photographs? Does that difference generate positive or negative response on the part of the viewer? If the photograph is similar in concept and composition to others, are there still sufficient elements to cause this image to stand out from the others, or is it merely another square in a mediocre mosaic?
   
   Does the photograph fulfill its purpose? Not every picture taken is intended to be a work of fine art. If an image is to be used in advertising, does it adequately sell the product or brand? If a photo is used as illustration, does it adequately reflect the point being presented? Would the intended use be better, worse or the same were the image not present?
   
   Finally, address the long-term value of the photograph. Will the message and emotional impact viewers feel today still be present fifty years from now? Here, the bar is set necessarily high and those whose images clear it are preciously few. Pictures such as the raising of the American flag at Iwo Jima, Ansel Adams' carefully timed and constructed landscapes, and Helmut Newton's nudes are among the select group who pass this critical test. Selectivity is essential and often short-sighted. One must be careful to neither underestimate nor over value the impact an image might have on a generation not yet born. Yet, the matter is worthy of evaluation.

Obviously, any well-considered critique that follows thoroughly all four steps is going to of greater length than a couple of quick sentence fragments. Providing genuine and helpful criticism takes considerable time imposing upon the schedule and expertise of the critic. Anyone seriously desiring such a level of serious consideration is not likely to find such in an online forum. One is better served approaching a respected authority privately and with an offer of some renumeration for the effort.

One is obligated to seriously consider the responsibility of accepting a request to provide criticism of another's work. Should one's schedule not contain sufficient time for due consideration, or if the request is made outside one's area and level of expertise, one may do greater good in declining the request. When the need to critique is valuable and appropriate, one does well to apply the following considerations.

• Do not give criticism where it is not requested
  
• Be professional in both tone and manner
• Avoid cliche
  
• Think twice before committing to words: is the comment appropriate and helpful
• Sarcasm is neither appreciated nor appropriate
• Do not confuse the artist with the art; just because one has personality conflicts with another photographer does not mean they are incapable of producing good work.
• Use language known and common to the field of photography
• Be gentle; caustic diatribes severely lashing a work are seldom well received and generally a waste of time
• Do not hesitate to ask questions
• Take responsibility for your opinions
• Do not assume that of which you are not 100 percent certain
• Remember there are no absolutes; using words such as "never" and "always" are rarely appropriate
• Avoid long, anecdotal response; stick to the facts and stay on topic
• Become familiar with the photographer's greater body of work before considering any one picture
• Know that criticism should always build, never destroy

Equally important to knowing how to provide criticism is knowing how to receive it. There are important elements to consider before offering one's work for criticism:

• Do not ask for criticism when one is only of the mind to accept praise
• Criticism from those who are not familiar with one's work is inevitably lacking in perspective
• Do not expect a critic to deliver praise on an inferior image
• Be gracious rather than defensive when shortcomings are revealed
• Provide sufficient information about the image so that the reviewer has a sense of what you were wanting to achieve
• Even when the review is generally positive, look for elements where one might improve

Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote: "Good criticism is very rare and always precious." In a society where too many people find morbid satisfaction in the verbal destruction of others' work, those words ring more true than ever. One cannot improve if one is not aware of a deficiency. However, criticism should always be a tool and never a weapon.

May all our words regarding the photography of others be applied as delicately as a diaper to a newborn child.

HISTORY BEYOND PHOTOGRAPHY (pt. 3 of 3)

Throughout the 19th century, specifically from 1815 forward, it seemed as though every form of artistic expression, literature, music, philosophy and art, exploded at once, the pieces and forms from one inspiring and blending with the other to create one of the most prolific creative periods in western civilization: the Romantic era. This is the period that gave birth to the "power" music of Beethoven, Wagner, Liszt, Rachmaninoff, Mendelssohn and Chopin, the operas of Verdi and Bizet, the poetry of Lord Byron, Shelley, Keats, and the literary storm from authors such as Wordsworth, Pushkin, Poe, Hawthorne, and Hugo.

Painters of the period often collaborated closely with musicians and poets, the words and music influencing a new depth of color, bold nationalism, an impressive realism, and a strong inclination to use their work as the visual aspect of much larger statement. Throughout the global arts community, there was a sense of social responsibility; that art does not exist merely for aesthetic pleasure or to enhance personal vanity, but that art has a responsibility to guide, lead, and affect change within society.

In 1830, French painter Eugene Delacroix created the above masterpiece, Liberty Leading the People commemorating the revolution overthrowing King Charles X. The Friench government paid 3000 francs to purchase the strongly nationalistic piece, but the emotion and political fervor stirred by the work was so strong that it was exhibited in the palace for only a short while.

Arguably Delacroix's greatest work, Liberty encompasses all the main traits one would expect to find in a painting of the Romantic era. Full of both allegorical and French nationalistic symbolism, it is not without adamant purpose that the deceased figures in the foreground display all the ravages not only of war but even more of tyranny. Liberty herself is no shy, demure model; she is strong, robust, barefoot and bare breasted as she raises high the tricolore and steps off the canvas, right into the face of the viewer. The crowd behind her represents every social class from bourgeoisie to peasant, each face full of individual personality and emotion.1

For many, the Romantic period epitomizes art at its apex. These are the works that draw the largest crowds, even those who aren't quite certain to what their eyes should search or the subtleties to which their ears should listen. Being an artist of any form was an occupation celebrated and revered. Concert halls and galleries were packed full. Museums and universities were endowed with a competitive fervor. To create, to compose, to write, to teach, was the most noble of callings and each country, nay, each village was eager to hold high their celebrated champions of the arts.

But Delacroix's painting wasn't the only French creation that cause a stir. During this very same period two frenchmen, Joseph Niepce and Louis Daguerre began working together to develop a method for developing plates that made permanent images exposed to light. The French government bought the rights to the process in July 1939 and made the process public a month later. Photography was born and the world of two-dimensional imagery was immediately thrown into a manner of upheaval.2

Painter Paul Delarouche, is credited, perhaps apocryphally, with stating that, "from today, art is dead!" The art world reacted largely with horror. Charles Bauldelair, who many consider the father of modern criticism, wrote quite harshly of his disdain for the new medium, calling it "art's most mortal enemy." [A portion of Bauldelair's Salon of 1859 translated to English can be read online here.] Fear led many painters whose income depended on "miniature" portraits to become photographers themselves.3

Yet, there were those with a greater understanding of the medium who saw it as a way to actually increase their painting income. By utilizing photography, a painter could severely minimize the number of sittings needed with a subject. A painter could now work at the canvas for hours without having to worry about the model fainting of fatigue simply by utilizing this new medium of photography.4

Of course, photography was still quite young, plates took 30 minutes to develop, and there were dangers and problems along the way for which painting simply couldn't and wouldn't wait. While photography suffered through the pains of trying to figure out its own being and identity, the art world went wildly onward.

Even as the popularity of photography is exploding, a loosely-knit group of Parisian artists are working in a very new style, one with noticeably softer edges, a stroke that moves strongly away from the stark realism of the Romantics. The artists are known collectively as the Impressionists.

Monet, Renoir, Cezanne, Sisley, and Cassat are among the best know painters of this still-popular style. For photographers, their connection and contribution to imagery may not be immediately apparent. After all, one who is accustomed to seeing the world through a camera lens looks at an impressionistic piece and immediately thinks, "it's out of focus!" But the Impressionists made two very important contributions for photographers.

First, they took the creation of art outdoors. Prior to this period, most painting, even landscapes, was performed indoors. Impressionists went to their subject rather than forcing their subject to come to them, opening up a whole new perspective on imagery outside the studio.

Second, they brought a new and original perspective of natural light into their paintings. The reflection of colors from object to object is a consideration that too many inexperienced photographers still overlook, but was of critical importance to Impressionist painters. Paintings from this period are amazingly accurate in the placement and density of shadows and reflection in relation to the position of the sun.

Toward the end of the 19th century and moving into the 20th, movements and styles of art come in greater number and much closer together. Change occurs at an amazingly rapid rate throughout the twentieth century. To try and account for all of them here would be sheer folly. However, there are some major points worth mentioning.


Fauvism, led by Henri Matisse, whose 1904 work Woman with a Hat is shown above, took the art world kicking and screaming into abstraction and the concept that a color seen may be better expressed on canvas with a color of a different hue. Blue becomes ultramarine. Red becomes vermilion. Fauvism, and to lesser degrees pointalism and post-impressionism, all teach photographers to step back and peer beyond the physical reality of a subject to find its essence, its emotion, and even its connection with the artist.


Can the Cubist works of Picasso (le guitariste shown above) and Brauqe hold any lessons for photographers at all? Of course they do! Cubism teaches photographers to look at all the surfaces of an object, not merely the side closest to the camera. Cubism reminds one to search for and find the depth in our subjects. Indeed, duo-tone, tri-tone and multiple exposure photographs are in some manner indirectly related Cubism as they present multiple perspectives of a single subject, though not in the same single-plane manner as the Cubists.

Cubism also teaches photographers to look at a frame as though it were divided into cells on a grid; consider what lies within each cell and its relationship to the image as a whole. This concept can be especially useful in the development of composition, lighting, and editing.

Time, space, and the brevity of read interest do not allow for any greater exploration regarding the relationship between the history of art and photography beyond what has been presented in these three articles. Without doubt, every minute topic raised, and more intentionally ignored, could easily become the subject of a half-day's lecture were time and interest permitting. Hopefully, this brief engagement sends photographers running to libraries and museums and galleries to study and give greater consideration to all that painting has to teach.

The artistic ground on which we stand has already been tilled for hundreds of thousands of years by the painters who come before us; the job of the photographer today is to use that knowledge, experience and inspiration to cultivate a new and exciting level of imagery and art.

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1.Toussaint, Hélene, (1982). La Liberté guidant le peuple de Delacroix. Paris: Editions de la Réunion des Musées Nationaux.
2. Leggat, Robert (1995). A History of Photography from its beginnings until the 1920s. Published online by the author at http://www.rleggat.com/photohistory/index.html
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid.

HISTORY BEYOND PHOTOGRAPHY (pt. 1 of 3)

Bookstores and libraries are full of well-written volumes about the history of photography going back to Camera Obscura in 1558. Everyone who holds any serious desire in photography does well to take the time necessary and devour as much of the information as possible. There is no significant advantage to recapitulating those tomes here.

While the mechanics of cameras have their origination in the mid sixteenth century, humans have been creating artistic images for an infinitely longer period of time. Even before the guttural grunts and screams evolved into language, our evolutionary ancestors created images on cave walls not merely as accounts of their daily life, but as art, for enjoyment, entertainment, and thought. Creation of artistic imagery is as much a part of human history as the development of society and philosophy. This is the true history from which photography is born and it is in the study of art history that photographers better define, focus, and develop the evolution of what began as pigment carved into cave walls.

For reading convenience, this article is divided into three parts. Much of the historical information for this article comes from the extensive compendium of information compiled by The Metropolitan Museum of Art and the many historical art experts there. Further exploration of all research cited is strongly encouraged.

Just how old is artistic imagery? The answer would seem to lie in the solution to the question of how old is man? While the oldest known cave paintings are a mere 35,000 years old, excavations in Africa have uncovered pigments and grinding equipment dating back 350,000 to 400,000 years old. Even more amazing than the simple presence of the tools is the fact that over 300 different pigments were present.1 This tells us our ancestors were not satisfied with merely drawing on walls, but took pains to create images with various colors and hues, giving artistic thought and purpose to their work.

What seems apparent is that not only have humans always used imagery to record their actions, but they have also used imagery for their own pleasure and aesthetic value. From Africa to Asia, across Europe and into the Americas, works of art have been found among the remnants of myriad tribes and peoples. Artists of the Paleolithic period across Europe and Asia created both mural works to be left for others and portable pieces they could carry with them. Images carved in mammoth ivory, wood, and stone then painted, carried with nomadic tribes as they transversed across the continents.2

Among the most well-known of these artifacts are the so-called Venus figurines, which seem to indicate that even in the earliest forms of art and imagery the female form was a frequent and popular subject. Exaggerated features, such as breasts and buttocks, seem to indicate that such representations may have been linked to ancient fertility beliefs and had strong spiritual connections, but the careful detailing also seems to indicate attention was given to aesthetic value as well.3

Understandably, solid examples of the most ancient forms of imagery are extremely rare and difficult to find. Artifacts from the earliest periods, roughly 20,000 to 8,000 BC are our best sources for hoping to understand art of the ancient worlds. Perhaps most important is that these art pieces are not limited to one or two places on the globe. Ancient art has been found on all the inhabited continents, from Blackwater Draw in what is now New Mexico, to Fell's Cave in Patagonia, Chauvet Cave in Southern France, Wonderwerk in Namibia, Pachmari Hills in India, Ubirr in Australia, and Mal'ta in Asia. The creation and use of images has been just as much a part of society from the very beginning as it is today.

Many more examples of artistic imagery are available from the Neolithic period (8,000 to 2,000 BC). These are the seemingly crude images that have been common among elementary text books for the past 50 years. There is so much more to this period than cave drawings, however. Craftsmanship in the development of tools expanded the types, styles, and intricacies of art dramatically.

During this period, the ancient Japanese developed the first pottery, creating both bowls and human figurines. These were carefully painted and fired and utilized a wide variety of designs created by pressing the clay against plants and rope in specific patterns.4

At the same time, Spanish wall art depicts both hunting and dancing activities, complete with what some might argue to be the earliest fashion images, giving one the ability to see what was popular style in ancient Spain.5

Far away in Australia, cave paintings begin with incredibly crude stick figures, but by 6,000 BC have become considerably more detailed including scales on saltwater fish and crocodiles. There may be some indication that more portable art was created, but perishable materials such as wood and fiber have left little hard evidence of the works.6

At Jericho, ancient Mediterraneans began creating textiles, dyed and decorated with beads. 7 Could this have been the beginnings of the fashion market? There is some evidence to that effect. Most certainly there was value attached to these garments as they were increasingly traded as civilization developed.

By the time of the Early Bronze Age, various societies had developed some form of written communication, most notably the Egyptians. Hieroglyphic writing was in use from around 3200 BC until the late 4th century AD. This symbol-driven language gives a unique underscore to the prominence and necessity of symbolic imagery. This ancient written form is based on images that were readily understood and recognizable even by those without formal education. Scribes were revered figures and drew large crowds when they would read from the scrolls they created.

At the same time, several societies have begun settling into fixed communities, moving out of the caves and into permanent houses of their own construction. Kings begin building elaborate palaces and art figures strongly throughout these structures. One notable example was the palace of King Zimro-Lim on the Euphrates River in Syria. The palace was decorated heavily with wall paintings and statuary that were sadly destroyed with the conquest by Hammurabi.8

Migration and settlement into the Italian peninsula and Greek islands introduced brief periods of cultural poverty before the explosion of cities such as Crete, Troy, and Mycenae. As personal wealth increased throughout this region, so did the development of art. While most remaining artifacts consist of carvings, sculpture and ceramics, there is no reason to think that wall art and other forms of imagery did not continue to flourish.9

The Pruvian culture of South America flourished during this period as well. The use of shells and bird feathers, decorative beads and intricate carvings seems to indicate a relative wealth that resulted in many new forms of artistry.10

By 1,000 BC, many societies demonstrate the presence of an artisan class responsible for the creation of many forms of imagery, from wall art to sculpture to fashion to ceramics to intricate seal carvings. Many artifacts seem to have apparently had some religious connection, but even pieces with more common uses were still highly decorated, bringing aesthetic pleasure to every day bowls and vessels.

As the Roman empire begins to expand and dominate, art is about to take on some dramatic changes, but the appreciation and need for art in society has by this point already been very well established and ingrained in the lives of virtually every people group on the planet.

How does this impact modern photography? Consider these points in summary:

• Artistic imagery is as basic and elemental to the human condition as food, shelter and clothing, having been important to even the most ancient of peoples. The ability to create images of ourselves, what we do, who we are, makes us, in a sense, immortal. Just as crude cave drawings are in some cases our only remaining evidence of the presence and migration of humans in the ancient world, so photography achieves the same basic, rudimentary purpose in modern society. Photographs preserve who, what, and where we are, and while there is historical value for future generations, to those who are the subjects of photographs the images are our means of reaching into the future and saying, just as those cave drawings say to us: "Hey, I was here!"
  
• The creation and preservation of imagery is a significant part of society. Whether as a reflection of religious beliefs or for one's own aesthetic pleasure, art is the most fundamental form of expression, quite possibly predating every other form of communication. Photography is a continuation of that expression, creating images reflecting how one views the society in which they live, the conditions of our lives and our thoughts, preserving both our successes and our disasters. Our images bring deep definition to our humanity and our social conscience.
  
• Appreciation for art and the desire to have images as part of one's life is universal. Art has never been limited to just one or two people groups. Rather, wherever there have been humans living on this planet, they have created art in whatever form was available to them. Perhaps the greatest hope for digital photography is that it has the potential to once again make the creation of imagery much more universal than has been the case over the past millennium. Photography has the potential to bring real art out of the museums in which it has been necessarily sequestered and back into the every-day reality of human life. Photography restores and redefines freedom of expression not just for a few, but for every person on the planet.

What we do with our cameras today is but a continuing evolution of what began with pigments and grinding stones some 350,000 years ago. Photographers are not new artists, but a continuing legacy of images creators who hold a valuable and irreplaceable role in society.

The ancient artists teach us the social necessity of images. As civilization develops however, we begin to see how images actually shape and can be used to control society. Such will be the path explored in part two of this series.

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1. "Earliest Evidence of Art Found" unattributed article in Sci/Tech stories on BBC.co.uk. 2 May 2002
2. Tedesco, Laura Anne. "Mal'ta (ca. 20,000 B.C.)". In Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/malt/hd_malt.htm (October 2000)
3. ibid.
4."Japan, 8000–2000 B.C.". In Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/ht/02/eaj/ht02eaj.htm (October 2000)
5. "Southern Europe, 8000–2000 B.C.". In Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/ht/02/eus/ht02eus.htm (October 2000)
6. "Oceania, 8000–2000 B.C.". In Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/ht/02/oc/ht02oc.htm (October 2000)
7. "The Eastern Mediterranean, 8000–2000 B.C.". In Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/ht/02/wae/ht02wae.htm (October 2000)
8. "Mesopotamia, 2000–1000 B.C.". In Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/ht/03/wam/ht03wam.htm (October 2000)
9. "Southern Europe, 2000–1000 B.C.". In Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/ht/03/eus/ht03eus.htm (October 2000)
10. "South America, 2000–1000 B.C.". In Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/ht/03/sa/ht03sa.htm (October 2000)