Make Not Take?

Recently one of the other photographers at my group gave a talk about his creative journey and was very open about the uncertainties he'd had about his work. It was quite a journey, but very affirming because he'd come through the other side and was more relaxed in his art. His story, I suspect, is one common to a lot of creative people, where self doubt and losing the path sometimes sets in. He coined a great phrase, about wondering when he'd go from taking photos to making photos. And that really resonated. Everything he said I feel, even after a lifetime, more or less, of taking pictures. Like many of us I'm a fully paid up member of the Imposter Club, who spends a great deal of his time wondering when he's going to be found out, wondering what being grown up must feel like because I don't think I'm quite there yet (and dear god I'm in my 60's so there must be no hope), and wondering what 'good at' means because believe me, no-one is a harsher self-critic than me. So when my friend spoke these words I was transported off into a world of empathy and shared experience. I felt his frustration but also his joy at having found a way forward. 

So it made me reflect in the days that followed. Have I ever actually 'made' photos. Are people like me up there with those elaborate photographers who waft into studios with props and complicated lighting plans and ideas for multiple layers in post-processing? I was sure I wasn't. I was, of course, a plodding tog who can take a few competent pics that give me pleasure and there's nothing wrong in that. 

But actually, there are many kinds of photographers aren't there? What is a photographer? As another photographer friend, Gaz, pointed out, at the most basic level, you are there to complete a task which is to record an image of an event or a person in a reasonably competent way. And I guess that's it. And if you did that, then job done. You're a photographer. Wear the hat. Don't be frightened to say it. 

Now let's get onto the scary word that sometimes gets tacked on. Artist. Oooh, now that's a one isn't it? What is art? Lets have a philosophical discussion here. Some people were very offended by Tracey Emin's unmade bed. We're still talking about it years later though. How do you square that with Constable's Hay Wain for example. Art is subjective and comes in many genres, as does photography for that  matter. We still see the piercing eyes of Sharbat Gula from the cover of National Geographic Magazine, the young Afghan girl who famously graced its cover in the 1980's. Its a beautiful portrait. Was that made? No, it wasn't made in a studio, with miles of cables and complicated reflectors and endless layers in Photoshop, although it was subjected to some pre-digital era retouching work. It was take not make. 100% shot on location. Its clearly art and its as haunting as any portrait painted in an earlier century. 

So if we're taking photos and we're striving to create something that has an emotional response, whether its satisfaction in an aesthetic value or appreciation of some kind of symmetry, or whether we create something that evokes a more visceral reaction, then we're artists. Our only limitation is technical skill and imagination. The first can be learned and the second can be stimulated. 

I'm glad Rob gave that talk because it got me thinking about these things and perhaps that's why what happened next happened. I was reviewing some work, and doing a little finishing off of some event photography. I opened a picture. Its not artistic by any measure. But its competent, its nicely observed and its technically well-executed. Its the right moment in a singer's performance and all the elements have come together just right. And this grown man burst into tears. My reaction took me completely by surprise. It was because for the first time I was felt like I wasn't an imposter. I felt I could say real photographer. I felt I could say artist. I felt I could say good. I'm still not sure if that's a great thing or incredibly sad that its taken till so late in life but I'm  pleased we got there, even if a dam had to break. 

Its been quite a journey. The first photos I took were with the hand me down box brownie my dad gave me aged 8. I promptly ran off into a field because he told me anything too close would be blurry, so I wanted to see what happened with some stuff in focus and other stuff out of focus. I still think the picture my 8 year old self took has a kind of artistic merit in a weird way. I recently found the negative even though the original print has long since gone missing and despite 50 years in a shoebox, it was in remarkably good condition and scanned up well.  Seems like a good time to celebrate that first shoot. Let's raise our coffee mugs and toast 'taking' photos, and long may we continue.