Photographers As Editors

Azalea

I've been chewing over this concept that has made it into my reading from several sources seemingly all at once: the idea that photographers are not creators. This is not to say that we are not creative, but rather that we are not a creating. We are not like the painter, author, or composer staring at a blank canvas or page, having to create something from the emptiness. No, we start with creation--nature, people, architecture--and take it as given. We are also unlike the musician or actor. They must take some other artist's creation and interpret it until it becomes his own.

Although we may see the given creation in a unique way, our job is not to interpret it for others; we simply see it.
No, we are not creators or interpreters. What we do is take in the given creation in a unique way, and find in that something we would like to show to others. Once found, we attempt to isolate that something, stripping from the frame everything that is extraneous. In that sense we are editors, editing creation to isolate its essence. I believe this single outlook on my role as a photographer could serve me well. I should ask myself on each exposure: "What part of creation am I trying to isolate, and how can I best do that?" If I can answer those questions, my images will have more direction and meaning. If I can't, my images will be confusing and crowded. I must constantly edit my work, stripping out that which is not needed.

This image of the azaleas in my front yard started much wider, including the green shutter and rectangular panes of glass of my front window behind the bush. As I took several frames that seemed to hold no interest, I realized that what I cared about was the beautiful color of the flowers, and eventually zeroed in on that. After editing out the creation I didn't need, I ended up with this image, which I believe to be far more successful.

Gold and Blue Macaw

Macaw

This is one of the handful of images I was able to get at the zoo last Saturday before my camera battery died on me. Needless to say, I put in an order for a second battery the minute I got home. I also vowed to never let that happen again. I guess I had to learn the hard way.
In all, though, it was a fun trip; more enjoyable than I had anticipated. I think April was actually glad the battery died--it meant I wouldn't be constantly holding us up trying to get the shot.

Focus

Jule Collins Smith Museum of Fine Art, Auburn, AL

After much deliberation and a long period of inactivity, I've decided to devote this blog to my journey in photography. It will be a place for me to track my progress and organize my thoughts on the art, rather than just a dump of my work as on flickr. My interest in photography started roughly two years ago, but I've only been making a serious effort since about last summer. We'll see where this takes me.