Developing a Photographer's Eye

According to psychologist R. Keith Sawyer of Washington University, these are the places that creativity researchers refer to as as the places where different ideas or creative solutions have famously and suddenly emerged. 

When we set out to make a photograph, it’s hard not to conjure up a set of pre-conceived notions about the kind of photograph we want to attempt.  We pre-visualize the end result, and in doing so, that Rolodex of images we have stored in our brain, images we may have seen before, blast their way into our mind’s eye.

This is what Pierre Elliot Trudeau had to say about canoeing:

"What sets a canoeing expedition apart is that it purifies you more rapidly and inescapably than any other travel. Travel a thousand miles by train and you are a brute; pedal five hundred on a bicycle and you remain basically a bourgeois; paddle a hundred in a canoe and you are already a child of nature."

“Catching The Big Fish” is the title of a book by American film maker David Lynch.  It is,
as the sub-title suggests, a thoughtful exploration of “meditation, consciousness, and creativity.”  Here’s how Lynch introduces the concepts in the book: 

Over the next few days you will see a new tab on the home page called  “The Photographer’s Muse”.  This new page will include weekly exercises designed to unlock your creative potential and it will introduce you to some ideas and concepts designed to encourage your growth as a photographer.  Think of The Photographer’s Muse as a sort of Photo Flashcard - exercises designed to help you develop your creative voice.  I’ll also post them on Twitter and on Facebook where I will encourage you to share your images and your comments about the exercises.

So, to follow the last entry, where does all of this lead us?  Armed with a grasp of the interpretive, constructive nature of photography, the mindful photographer enters a whole new world of creativity, no longer bound by the need to record everything in a literal sense that he or she sees.  To help with this process, try some of these techniques.  Approach them as Gross and Shapiro suggest in the Tao of Photography: “playfully.”  

I also suggest you approach them with a clear mind, with mindful attention, relaxed awareness.   Approach your subject quietly, with reverence.  Listen intently and fully to your subject.

Many years ago, one of the lectures I gave in a Photojournalism course I taught at the college was titled, “A Photograph:  Tangible Proof An Event Has Occurred.”  The hypothesis being, that if a photograph of an event existed, that was proof conclusive that particular event did in fact occur.  It was a lecture meant to drive home the obligation a photojournalist had to be truthful in how they documented a particular event.  

I promised myself I would not use this space for anything other than personal observations about the art of photography but having made it to the other side of heart surgery, I am compelled to break my one and only rule.

I would like to thank everyone who sent Lynda and I their thoughts and prayers and who kept in touch during the last couple of months as we weathered a most trying time.  Those emails, cards, and calls were tremendously important to us, and we are eternally grateful for the kindnesses.  

Continuing the discussion about photography’s unique characteristics, let’s take a look at the next two properties which separate photography from other visual art forms and which, by the way, are closely related:  Speed and Timing.

In a recent workshop on Presence and the Art of Seeing Photographically, one of the participants remarked, “Photography is like no other art form I have tried.”   I got to thinking about that over the following few days and this next series of blogs is the result.  I'd like to look more closely at some of the properties that are unique to photography.

 There has been a lot of material written on this subject as photographers, essayists, critics, and purveyors of the art try to find a way to understand just where photography’s place is in the visual world.  If you have not already done so, pick up a copy of Susan Sontag’s book, “On Photography.”  In this critical look at photography, Sontag writes, “The painter constructs, the photographer discloses.”  

Henri Cartier-Bresson, considered by many to be the father of modern photojouralism, once said, "Complicated equipment and light reflectors and various other items of hardware are enough, to my mind, to prevent the birdie from coming out." 

He was of course not referring to wildlife photography but to his craft, the art of seeing photographically and responding holistically.  I have long maintained that good photography is not about the equipment, but rather, it is about the eye, your eye, and it was with that basic tenet in mind that I developed the current complement of workshops. 

A participant in a recent workshop asked specifically about making stronger images while traveling with her family this summer.   Photography, like any endeavour takes practice.  But more importantly, making good pictures also requires a shift in the way we think about image making.

There are two common mistakes photographers make when traveling that result in some rather unremarkable pictures.  Firstly, they often photograph landmarks – a famous building or bridge or statue from the same vantage point that countless other photographers have taken in the past.  Try to get into the habit of looking at a particular subject, let’s say it’s a statue,  from different vantage points.

For the past two years, Lynda and I have been exploring the use of canvas as a backdrop for our subjects.  Canvas has a historical significance in photography; for well over a century canvas has been used by photographers as a means of isolating the subject from their environment.

Before photography became main stream enough for the general public to attend at a photographer’s studio, early photographers took the studio with them to photograph their subjects on the spot.   This often included draping a piece of canvas over the side of a wagon or stringing the canvas up with a piece of rope.

Photography is a language born of stillness.  By learning to be present and to quiet the mind, you can begin to Develop A Photographer’s Eye.

Photography can take us on a remarkable journey of self-discovery – to a place beyond thought.  It is here that we begin to see a reflection of ourselves in our images. To get to this place, you must learn to overcome some of the obstacles we all have to “seeing photographically.”