I usually say that there’s no such thing as a bad photo, and then I get up on a soapbox about what I think photography is. I find it important that people understand that people reexamine the way they think about photography — so much so that I am abandoning my way of visual communication and coming to the dark side of words.
As head photo editor for The Observer, I see a lot of photography on a daily basis. Often, when someone shows me a picture they took, they preface it with how bad they think it is. I always disagree. Bad photos exist, but not in the way people might imagine. A bad photo is only bad insofar as it fails to do what the photographer set out to do. A “bad” photo is not a reason to make fewer pictures. Instead, it’s a reason to make more.
It seems to me that people are intimidated by the idea of a “real photographer,” however, whether we realize it or not, everyone is attracted to images. Noticing and seeing is a fundamental part of photography, and we all practice that every day. But what does that say about your relationship to that subject, or better yet, your relationship to how you perceive things, show up in the world and embellish your unique perspective? When we make pictures, it’s a direct connection and reflection of the way we are existing.
As we evaluate the pictures we take, we tend to say that they are either good or bad. This is not an objective rule of photography, but rather an exemplification of how we think we have met our goals. The perpetual question “What makes a good photo?” is trivialized by the much more interesting question: Why do we reject the way we’ve seen something? That reflection makes us more interesting people, and thus, photographers.
The answer to “bad” photography is to photograph more; it is to become literate in yourself and your own intended vision.
Just as we have goals in our lives, we also have goals in our photography. Award-winning photos, ones we see in magazines or at the height of the industry, are taken by photographers who have mastered the literacy of their vision and how they go about executing it. That said, status and awards don’t make our pictures notable; what makes a picture notable is what is interesting to us.
We are all doing what is central to the practice of photography: seeing, attempting to understand, reflecting and doing the whole thing over and over again. Photography is not just a means of reflection of our surroundings, but also a reflection of ourselves. Every picture reveals the photographer in a certain way. What makes a picture interesting is that it is something you found captivating, alluring, seductive, attractive.
So when I’m asked to delineate the quality of an image and I say I can tell a “good” picture from a “bad” one, I don’t mean I’m assigning value in some absolute sense. I’m asking a different question: What was this image trying to execute, and was it successful? And in my experiences in photojournalism, the goal is to convey the truth as accurately as possible and provide context for readers. However, this varies depending on the context of the picture.
Pictures, more often than not, are literal fractions of a second captured in light. All a picture is is light value and light data. It’s a medium that is most true to life with minimal obstacles between the capturer’s experience and the capturee. Don’t get hung up on whether your photos are “good” or “bad.” Even if some photos might not be what you want them to be, every picture you make is worth it. The answer to “bad” photography is to photograph more; it is to become literate in yourself and your own intended vision.
It would be naive to place all photos and photographers on the same level. Some people have a more refined idea of what their goals are. These people are what we would consider professional photographers. So, while many professional photographers have top-of-the-line equipment, lenses and bodies, this doesn’t necessarily mean that you need this to make interesting and valuable pictures because different types of photography exist.
Now that we have established that you are a photographer, you should ask yourself: How can I better understand the way my gear, or what is accessible to me, can facilitate the achieving of my visual goal? For instance, if you have an old camera with a cracked lens or a light leak, you can use it to make images that are direct and unique reflections of you and your experience.
Just like anything else, photography may or may not be for you. But to decide that, you still have to understand what that is. So, if you reject the idea that anyone, even you, could be a photographer, you’re closing yourself off to the possibilities of photography as a medium. Instead, open yourself up to these possibilities by reflecting on what calls to you aesthetically and accept that your vision is valuable.
So set goals, pursue fulfillment and make pictures accordingly.
