I have mixed feelings about whether photography can be taught or not. The mechanics of it can, the craft, but the art, the vision, the intuition… all that goes into truly expressive photography, not so much. A sensitive mentor can help guide it, can help bring it out, but trying to teach someone how to see can easily devolve into little more than a set of rules.

If I were to give a photography class, I could condense it into four steps that would easily fit on a 3×5 index card. So here, in easy to understand form, are my four steps to becoming an accomplished photographer:

1. Buy, borrow, or steal a camera, preferably one with manual controls. It doesn’t matter what kind.
2. Get familiar with said camera until using it’s controls are as natural as breathing.
3. Learn the fundamentals of exposure so you can use the controls to achieve good results.
4. Practice honing your own unique vision for the rest of your life.

Repeat step 4 diligently, and repeat steps 1 and 2 as needed. Apply step 3 at all times. Sorry… there are no shortcuts, but don’t be discouraged. Practice and you will see progress.

There you have it… end of class.

My true program is summed up in one word: life. I expect to photograph anything suggested by that word which appeals to me.  –  Edward Weston

I started these bits and pieces posts, which are mostly my quick takes on quotes about photography, some time back, but have been a bit remiss in keeping up. This is a good time to remedy that and get back with the program.

This one by Edward Weston appeals to me more and more as the years go by. My photography isn’t about photography. It isn’t about cameras… it isn’t about subject matter… it isn’t about definitions or categories or fitting into certain boxes labeled ‘landscape photography’ or ‘street photography’ or ‘documentary photography’ or ‘abstract photography’ or any other genre. It’s about life.

There are countless definitions of art. Some are quite profound, others are little more than exercises in pomposity. I can sum up mine quite simply. My work is my attempt to translate my life into visual form.

How about yours?

I wasn’t planning on doing a post like this, but it was pointed out in a comment on an earlier post that it might be interesting for others to see what I would select as a few of my best images from the past year. So… with great gnashing of teeth, and for sake of discussion, here are four photos taken during 2011 here in LA.

palm bark

hinges -- koreatown alley

eucalyptus trunk

leaf abstract

There you have it. Four photos that I think worked out pretty well. Good?… not so good?… why?… why not?…

Say what you will…

One thing that still amazes me, even after many years in photography, is how few and far between really good photographs can be. I don’t have many that would qualify.

This time of year you see many photographers post their ten or twelve favorite images from the past year. That’s cool. I enjoy looking at them.  I’m fascinated to see how an artist’s work has progressed and evolved over the last year.  Sometimes the growth and change is very striking.

I never do that kind of post simply because I can never find that many that I consider my best or my favorites. Looking over the last year, I can find maybe six or seven that I would consider significant.

It’s not that I think most of what I post to this blog isn’t any good, it’s more that I don’t intend for much of it to be finished work. It serves a different purpose. Those photographs I choose to print are finished work, while this blog serves more as a sketchbook that I make public. It’s a place to try new things, to experiment, to play a little bit, to get some feedback from the community, as well as to show those images that will get moved into the gallery. It’s a living, changing, growing thing.

So, long story short, I don’t have any best of’s or favorites to post. I haven’t made them yet…

A few quick thoughts to end the year. I don’t know about you, but it’s been a rollercoaster for me.

The art world, like any healthy society, needs it’s rebels to stay fresh and vital. It needs those who are willing to rock the boat… who question the rules… who buck the prevailing trends.

It needs those who won’t settle for imitation or current fashions in art. Those who are dissatisfied with the status quo. Those who reject formulas and trendy methods.

It needs those who will counter the tastemakers — the critics, the galleries, the influential collectors, the popular artists.

It needs those fire-breathing free-thinking artists who will question authority, break new ground, stand up to accepted opinion and traditional attitudes, and stand up for true freedom of creative expression.

It needs those who won’t fit in. The misfits.

Whether one’s art is popular or not isn’t the issue. What matters is that it’s honest and real. That’s the only kind of art worth making. That’s the kind I will strive to make in 2012.

I love to read about master photographers from the past. Maybe you do too. The work they did, the lives they lived, and the thoughts and philosophies they developed over the years can be both fascinating and inspiring. Here’s a short list of a few of the books that I’ve read, some several times, over the years and that will always have a place on my bookshelf. I highly recommend each and every one of them.

Ansel Adams: A Biography

Ansel Adams: Classic Images

Ansel Adams: Letters, 1916 – 1984

The Daybooks of Edward Weston; Two Volumes in One: I. Mexico, II. California

Magnum: Fifty Years at the Front Line of History: The Story of the Legendary Photo Agency

Dialogue with Photography: Interviews by Paul Hill and Thomas Cooper

Focus: Memoirs of a Life in Photography

Here’s a brief thought for a Saturday morning. Oversimplified to be sure, but feel free to flesh it out in the comments.

The longer I live the less inclined I am to define myself, either as a human being or as a photographer.  I’m even growing increasingly impatient with the term ‘photographer’.  Human being will do.

I’ve done many things and called myself many things over the years — nature photographer, wilderness photographer, artist, printer, writer, laborer… the list is endless — but none really define me. They’re just things I’ve done.

Definitions can be limiting. It’s easy to pigeonhole ourselves into a certain niche, but once there it can be difficult to pry ourselves loose from it. More often than not we’re defined by the kind of work we do. Upon meeting someone, invariably one of the first questions asked is “so what do you do?” We answer with what we do for a living, and bingo — we’re categorized. We’re neatly cataloged and pigeonholed.  That’s that, and all too often we accept that as being what we are.

When asked anymore I usually reply that I’m a seer. That’s usually good for a puzzled look, but it kills the question in it’s tracks. I see things. Not in a psychic or clairvoyant sense, but simply as a person who sees. I see the everyday and mundane. I see the interesting and exciting. I see the things many of us pass by everyday without even noticing. I see the beauty in the wilds and I see the artistry in peeling paint and rusting iron. And when moved to do so, I trip the shutter on my camera and pass along what I see. I’m a seer, that’s all, and that’s good enough for me.

Any thoughts on defining yourselves? Have at it…

cheers