Photography and Truth

I have always tried to teach that truth in photography does not come from the photograph itself but from the person who made it and that a photograph is just a photograph. But people will always try to convince us otherwise. When photography was invented, the problem was convincing people that the physical picture was real. Once people came around to the idea that you could capture someone's 'likeness' in a photograph, they would often believe what the photograph was telling them. Of course, that didn't stop early photographers from trying to fool people, especially when things like spiritualism were rife during the 1850's.

We are programmed to believe what we see in a photograph as truth, none more so than documentary photography. Despite this, it took several years for newspapers to realize that the only way to combat adjusted digital files was to accept RAW images. All fine and dandy for printed matter, but what about online content? In short, the digital image can never be trusted to give us a more 'truthful' image. AI has added a new layer of lies to what we consider truth in an image, in that there will most likely come a time when we cannot tell the difference between reality and fiction, never mind whether it's true or not.

The only way we can get back to some truth in photography, and by this, I mean documentaries and telling the world what's going on, is to go back to film; Light and shadow captured onto film and printed. Yes, there will always be some manipulation, cropping, or angle of view, but it's better than the fake world we are heading for. Photography has often gone full circle, be it returning to film, or refusing to Photoshop, but unfortunately, we have turned a corner onto a one way street.

Technology has always been the driving force behind the way we make photographs. Wet Plate, Dry Plate, Sheet Film, Roll Film, No Film, you get the idea. Photography has, and always will be, about the next new thing because the market is driven by the amateur, not the professional. A professional will find a method and stick with it, often producing a style and way of working. An amateur will always want the next thing, often believing a new camera will make them a better photographer, something which has always rubbed my rhubarb.

Since my early beginnings as a photographer I seem to have been a little late to the party, entering the world of black and white printing around the same time digital photography started to raise its pixelated head is one very good example, but photography has always been a constantly changing medium.

I remember dabbling with infrared film back in the late eighties. At the time everyone seemed to be using it to create otherworldly images of trees and clouds. All you had to do was set the camera to the correct settings for IR which were not from your light meter and move the focus slightly (there was a dot on the lens for this think). But fundamentally, it was the film that created the effect. Does this mean that because the photographer does not have full control, it is a lesser technique? of course not. But there is the danger of allowing technique to rule over substance in our photography.

Leica cameras are a fine example of how the market is driven in photography. There are plenty of other cameras on the market, but a Leica is considered by many to be the camera of the professional. Leica’s were the first cameras to lead the way for roll film and therefore photo journalists and documentary photographers. Any serious photographer back in the 50’s used a Leica. Their pedigree is like non other. They were mechanical, tough, and of the highest quality, built for reliability and to be used. Today the Leica is still of the highest quality, but its not the professional photographers lining up for the next model, its the keen amateurs. My issue is not with the Leica itself, I have two, digital and film, and love them like children, it is with the newer Monogram versions aimed at the photographer who has always worked in black and white film. These Mono cameras work in a way that produces the most wonderful tones and contrast that only a master black and white printer could produce (and that’s pushing it). My argument would be that the photographer has lost some of the control over the image and it becomes all about what the camera can do. Like it or not, the camera is making decisions for us. OK, its not fully automated like a camera phone, but its not far off either.

We think that photography today is so easy that anyone can be (and does call themselves) a photographer with cameras that you can just point and shoot. But this concept is really no different from the Kodak Box Brownie invented 123 years ago along with the slogan, ‘You press the button, we do the rest.’ This mindset of technically difficult is professional, and easy is amateur will always remain debatable. Its about whats in the package, not just the delivery.

The Double Edged Sword.

I have been teaching in some capacity for around 25 years. At first, it was Photography Workshops in Europe and the USA, Switzerland, Cuba, Africa, Asia, and even England. From there, I went into education, which, despite having some similar content (like making photographs), it was a very different approach. My photography degree was done at an art school when photography was a trade you learned, and printing was a thing you did with stinky chemicals and safe lights. Once the Art Schools switched to Universities, much of the practical was replaced with academia, dramatically changing photography education. Despite being a keen writer and self-proclaimed photo theorist, I loathed the thought of taking a practical visual medium into some essay-based topic.

These days, the issue with an art degree is that often, students will need more preparation for the world outside the academic bubble. They may have the skills to make good art or photography. Still, if they lack the know-how to make money from it, fund it, or do something else that enables them to continue making their art, then we can be pretty sure their time in education will become nothing more than a memory with a few photographs thrown in.

When I started teaching, an old mentor friend said, "Teaching is like a double-edged sword. You know what the students need, but there's always others calling the shots who might think otherwise." At the time, I thought he was a little jealous of my newfound interests or the book I had just published, but now, looking back at my own experiences, I know he was right.

Education in photography isn't declining; it's increasing. Just not in the way universities would like. Here's how I like to explain it;

A 'proper' personal trainer will become certified. They will study and learn all there is to know about training and usually specialize in a particular field. Then, and only then, they will begin to train people using their knowledge. However, there will always be those that fancy themselves as a personal trainer. They will watch a few videos online and pick up a few tips from fellow gym enthusiasts who have also been watching videos online. They are not certified and have failed to study the core training basics. They get a few clients at the local gym where, eventually, someone pulls a muscle because they didn't know if you bend something a certain way, things can happen that you did not know about. The person they trained then goes off and starts to teach someone else, and then that person trains someone until everyone has pulled muscles. If we think of the 'proper' trainer as a qualified teacher (with experience in the job, not just a degree) and the enthusiast as someone who has made a few images and is now a 'vlogger,' you get the idea.

Despite technology changing how people are taught photography, the fundamentals of it will always remain. No one needs a degree to take photographs. And therein lies the problem of education.

Night and Day

Having worked in the twilight for some time now, I still cant quite put into words the feeling one gets after the sun goes down. There is often a sense that something is about to happen. Not scary or dangerous, but a heightened awareness one doesn’t feel in the daytime. As a kid it was time to come inside, but I always wanted to stay out longer. Of course once I began making pictures, I had a perfect excuse to stay out and experience the shift from day into night.

For night photography, in particular urban scenes, there is a perfect moment for a photograph when the sky dims and the lights come on. Captured too soon, and the lights have no effect; too late, and there is too much contrast, and the lights will appear too bright. Often, it's a waiting game and then a case of working quickly to capture the decisive moment. Most of my early work was done this way, but not without disappointments, such as lights not coming on after waiting all day or cars parking in front of your scene, something that happens very often!

One thing I have always liked about low-light work is that once the sun rises, the mind can rest; there is closure, unlike a street photographer who is always looking and ready with the camera. Breakfast never tasted so good after a night of photography, followed perhaps by a bit of sleep, unless that is, you like sunrises!

The Turd

Gas Station, Death Valley. Scanned from C Type contact print.

My first purchase of Photoshop was on a CD back when computers had a slot so you could also watch DVD’s. It was a straight forward affair. You just popped in the CD, downloaded the software, and then maybe gave the CD to someone else to download. Well maybe I did, maybe I didn’t, maybe I was originally given the CD by someone else. It was the 90’s and I don’t really remember. These days things are very different and everything is virtual and apparently in some cloud. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who upgraded their computer to find their 6 version of Photoshop could no longer be used and therefore had to rely on the workings of the cosmos and the newer constantly upgrading system. I liked the CS6 version, I liked the older versions. In fact, if I could still use the 03 version, I would, especially considering the most I do is a little bit of color alteration and maybe use the healing brush to remove a dog turd. This morning I upgraded to the latest 2024 version of Photoshop. It has taken Adobe 25 years to create this new monster and now there is no knowing where it will stop. I am of course talking about the new AI tool and in particular the constant pop up to remove the background and replace it with flowers, or a sunset, or a dog turd.

Technology has always set about to make people lazy in body and mind and this is really no different. I don’t fear AI one bit, I just like boundaries and making my own images.

Where will it go from here? Is it down to the lake I fear…

The Green Station Wagon.

Green Station Wagon. UT 2006

Arriving on the scene, the sun had not yet risen. It was -10 degrees, pitch black and very still. Waiting for the sun to rise, I jumped up and down on the spot for what seemed like hours, until, finally, the sun began to rise and I set the focus of the 8/10” view camera. As the golden sunlight illuminated the mountain, I loaded the camera and pulled the dark-slide waiting for the optimum moment. Seconds later a green station wagon pulled into view. Then, the driver, Chuck, got out of the car and came over to greet me. At that moment I clicked the shutter.

One of the joys of photography is capturing moments never to be repeated, what I call trophies. It may come as a surprise that these moments can happen in landscape just as much as say a portrait. Over the years these trophies have made up a large part of my work, but often no one really knows as they often look intentional, just like the Green Station Wagon.

The most interesting thing about this image is that had I arrived at the location and the car was already there, I probably wouldn’t of photographed it.

Spooky

Spooky Trees

Being Halloween, I tried to find something ‘spooky’ and this image was the best I could do. To most people this image will not appear at all spooky. But at 3.00am in a deserted car park somewhere in the Mojave desert, it certainly felt spooky, and creepy, and quite cold. What you do not see is the car parked behind me and the man watching my every move..

Creating a narrative after an image was made is fundamentally easy. In fact we can often make an image be about anything we choose (like a spooky tree scene) despite the original reasoning being something completely different.

I have yet to come across anyone who has produced exactly what they set out to do right down to the last detail. When I do I will let you know.

Something that shouldn’t be there..

Archive images 2000 onwards

In a time of reflection (a birthday), I have spent the last few days looking over my catalog of work putting together a portfolio of work made in the desert. I have been making work in the dry heat now for thirty years and have yet to grow tired from the images. On my first trips to the California in the 90’s, it was always the desert that called me to make photographs. That calling has never left.

Often the images I produce in the desert don’t look like the desert at all, well not the desert most people think of. I don’t have any images of a large cactus, or sand dunes (maybe one or two), or people on camels. just give me something that shouldn’t be there…

Sonoran Desert, Salton Sea

I saw the light

Winslow, AZ, 2023

As a landscape photographer, my images have always been about light, be it the early morning glow from the sunrise or the eerie dim of a street lamp. My fear is that in a digital age, this capturing of light is becoming a lost art. Film captures light and records it, digital copies the light and recreates it in pixelated form. No matter how many ‘mega’ pixels we use, this will always be the case. As a result, this ‘copying’ the light in a digital image is very easy to manipulate. No only that, we can add light, or take it away just as easily when it comes to a digital file.

As a young student I was taught that studio lighting should always mimic daylight. A good skill to learn growing up in the North of England where the sun often hides (although since moving to California I have never stepped foot in a studio). Like digital copying reality, the studio light also copies a reality (the sun) and creates something which may look the same, but is not. If we use one studio light and mimic the sun (one light source) we can copy what the sun does. But if we add another light we are creating something else. Now throw digital into the mix and we are suddenly very far from what is real..

Natural light can be unpredictable. It can be warm or cold, flat or contrasty, sharp or soft, and sometimes capturing it rather than copying it can be wonderful.

The stained glass window effect.

Its hard to imagine a time when photography was all about the print, (the irony being that here I am showing digital images). Back in the 90’s I had a commercial darkroom and spent are large amount of time perfecting the art of printing. (Thankfully I still have a darkroom and still find joy in printing). For me there is nothing like holding and looking at a good print, but I will also be the first top admit that more often than not, an image on a screen will look better. The stained glass window effect of a backlit image such as a night shot will knock the socks off a print in terms of impact, but I will take the print over a virtual image any day.

Something to talk about.

Vegas, 2000

Over the years I has learned that every photograph, no matter how simple, planned or even accidental, has a story behind it. Sometimes the story is a simple one, sometimes it could fill a book. But these stories are often the engine that drive our image making, why? Because who doesn’t like a story. But its not just the image maker that tells the story. There are usually two types of story behind a photograph, the obvious one being a photograph that is displayed in someones home, be it a family portrait or an epic landscape. Often the image will relate to some event, a fictional anecdote perhaps. The other story, and one that relates more to my own work, is a photograph that someone else has made. Here you have the story from the artist, and then maybe the story of how the image was obtained, a combination of fiction and non fiction.

But no matter what the story is, it always comes after the photograph has been made. The photograph introduces the narrative and basically gives us something to talk about.

Unlike the moving image were things need to be continually moving, the photograph introduces the story, tells the story, and leaves us with an image of that story in one single frame.

People and stuff..

Robert Adams got it right, at least for me, when he said; "No place is boring, if you've had a good night's sleep and have a pocket full of unexposed film." I have been places where at first would seem there is nothing going on, when in fact there is an abundance of photographic possibilities to be had, a case of less is more perhaps.

Often, places you would think would have oodles of content, like a busy city, are in fact the least likely to turn out the goodies. One word I would use in this respect is ‘clutter’. Making sense of the chaos is a challenge, and none more so than a street full of people and stuff.

Personally I will take a desert, or an empty parking lot after a good nights sleep any day..

Hold your breath and count to three.

Dark, Foggy, and Nice..

My photography can be split into three sections. 1. Fine Art, whereupon I make nice images using a large camera and tripod. Usually a single image pondered over and produced as a large print for display. 2. Project work, made up of a series of images, usually environmentally charged and made over a long period. 3. Work with no particular reason other than the joy of making photographs. The latter is usually in between other work and almost always using a single camera and lens. The freedom from using a large camera and tripod can feel quite liberating, as does pushing the boundaries of the camera. The shot above is a good example using a 35mm lens, wide open, at night, and hand held. I have been making images like this for forty years now and the feeling never quite goes away…

Well that happened..

Almost half of my life has been spent living in America. It was not something I planned, it just sort of happened. Looking back now, I seem to have always been on the move, never really settling in any one spot, always a tourist. Thinking about this as a photographer, Marcel Proust comes to mind and his quote,

"The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes." But if I believed this, I would never have left England.

For me the real voyage of discovery is not to follow anyone else.

The joys of suffering..

Somewhere in Middle America, 4.00am.

I would say fifty percent or more of my work is made at night, and by that I mean either late in the day when the suns gone down, or early in the morning before the sun comes up. The shorter days of winter make this a little easier time-wise, but then you have the chilly willy aspect, which at times can be troublesome. Last year I spent six months of the winter venturing out at 4.00am to make pictures of urban scenes around the Middle America. The act of going out in sub zero temperatures with a large film camera was a horrible experience, but as is often the case for me, the work I produced made it all worth while. I remember a similar feeling way back in the November of 2006 when I decided to parade the Northern Coast of Scotland with an 8/10” camera while recovering from spinal surgery. I think I shouted at the landscape every day and cursing the day I was born, but the resulting work, North Shores, turned out to be one of my most successful.

There’s nothing new about suffering for ones art. You want to tell the world you were cold, hungry and needed the loo, but no one really cares except maybe the artist.

If the photographer lies, photography dies?

Iceland, 2023, (unedited, scanned negative)

When photography was first invented people questioned if it was real and like a tragedy, we deny it, question it, and then have to except it.

As hard as it is trying to imagine how it must of felt seeing a photograph appear out of nowhere, all we have to do is look at an AI generated ‘human’ to get what I think is a similar feeling. AI makes us question if what we are looking at is real, just like early photography.

Presently, as a photographer, I can spot an AI generated face quite easily, often because it’s too perfect and looks plastic (not unlike people who had had too much filler injected into there face). But most non-photo people cannot, just like they couldn’t tell when an image has been heavily retouched.

What I struggle with is the fact that one day we may not be able to tell the difference between what is real visually real and what is not. (I’ve always believed that beauty in life comes from its imperfections and all one has to do is switch off and go outside.)

Like it or not, photography has always been a lie. From the moment we look through the lens, we move, focus, focal length, and adjust to alter its reality. Today it has never been more important to be honest about our photography, and by that I mean how we got the image in the first place. Whether film, digital, AI, or a composite of ten images, truth in photography cannot come from the final photograph, its just a photograph. The truth must from the photographer. If the photographer lies, then photography dies.

Easier, not better.

“A very instagramable image”

I read on ‘the gram’ last week a very fine segment from a photographer friend of mine;

“Since the age of invention, technology has made photography easier, not better. “

The backlash was fantastic in that it upset so many, why, because it's true.

It may have been the same friend who also stated that, ‘everyone calls themselves a photographer these days’, another quote I totally agree with, in fact he may have got it from me. But let’s get one thing straight here, photography, as a job, is not a profession, it is a trade. As a photographer (making money from your craft), you are providing a product and a service. So if you made a deal to get paid to make photographs for a client, you are a professional photographer. If you make images for yourself, be it a project, a gallery, a book cover, or simply for the joy of it, you are a photographer. If you use your phone and take pictures of food or your cat while trying to obtain as many likes as you can on Instagram so you feel special, you are not a photographer just like I am not an interior designer if I rearrange my furniture and put up a new lamp.

The sad part of all of this is that standards as to what is a professional service, and product, have go astray. What people consider acceptable today is a far cry from the days when something needed to be re-shot because it simple wasn’t good enough. The likes of Photoshop, which was intentionally to enhance and refine, is now used to correct and re-create. But this has been going on for sometime and possibly started when someone dropped litter on the studio floor. Rather than pick up the litter, it was removed later in Photoshop.

Not better, just different.

The Great Wave. Gustav Le Grey 1857 (two negatives)

North Shores, Doyle Le Blue, 2006 (color neg 8/10”)

Lake Tahoe, CA, 2016 (Digital)

It’s difficult knowing where to start with the touchy subject of photography and technology. This time last year I wrote a whole thesis on the subject with an emphasis social media and got so involved I printed the 12,000 word manifesto and gave it to my students for reading (whether they read it or not remains to be seen..)

Technology was the beginning of photography in the age of invention, the process itself created by scientists, chemists and rich fella called Talbot, a man who could not “draw for toffee.” Today we dress up digital photography as a new way of thinking and being creative, but really it is just a pixel rehash of what has gone before. For example, the old age issue making the sky darker in a landscape photograph due to the ground often being so much darker was tackled in a number of ways; Either, using two negatives, like Gustave Le Gray ‘The Gray’ long ago, or much later, a graduation filter. Or better still, wait for some weather. Today of course we can add digital filters or burn in the sky, or if you are really lazy, and a numpty, add a pre-shot sky by someone else because no one will know unless you tell them (which you won’t). It’s the same old toot, just done in a different way.

The accidental tourist.

The image above is from work so new it does not yet have an official title, hence The Accidental Tourist which I use whenever I cannot place an image in a particular series. For the past couple of months I have ventured out whenever a storm begins to brew, often chasing the storm clouds and looking for some foreground subject matter. Its an exhilarating event, even without making a photograph.

Over the years I have learned that the best images are often at times we would not normally venture out, bad weather, late at night, early in the morning and so on. I am not suggesting that one goes out with a camera during a tornado (although there are those that do), but when the sky begins to bruise in the middle of the day, its often a good time to make a move.

The Desert.

Mojave, 120 degrees, 2020

In all my years of shooting, the desert remains my favorite place to visit, in particular the deserts of the west. The Mojave is hot, and Death Valley part of the Mojave, is the hottest place on earth, a place frequented during the Fridays project. The Sonoran (my latest project) however feels way hotter. But this heat debate is not me simply getting older and therefore feeling it more. Death Valley may have the highest recorded ‘air temperature’ (134.f), but the Sonoran has the hottest ‘ground temperature’ (177.4. f), which basically means you can fry eggs on the rocks and it will burn your skin right off.

Of all the elements I have found the high heat the hardest to work in. Besides almost bursting into flames, you get sweat in your eyes, you cannot think straight, and everything you touch is hot, including the camera. Add a bit of wind and we are are talking; a-dust-covered-sticky-white-hot-Brit.

Technically, despite what some may think, shooting film has not been a problem in this intense heat, you just keep it out of direct sunlight. Digital on the other has been a little temperamental affecting the focus and various functions within the camera including picture preview.

I am still not sure if shooting in extreme heat can look like extreme heat in a photograph. Cold is easy, just add a little frost on a cool blue morning, but shooting at the hottest part of the day really doesn’t look hot and nether does sunset for that matter.