A path to the discovery of self. We’ve all seen it. Photographs pour fourth like a never-ending stream as wave after wave of photographers visit the same tired spots trying to put down their mark. Every photo seems to literally vibrate with dramatic lines, amped color, and skies ablaze with crimson light. Enough already!
It’s both funny and tragic. It seems that because images have become ubiquitous, we are losing our ability to discover and think. It’s like we’ve seen a certain style succeed, so we find ways to reinterpret with even greater impact. It’s so easy to copy. We copy locations; we copy cameras, focal lengths and increasingly…style. I’m so old I remember images that were the result of pure discovery and waiting for the right conditions. Images created by many early landscape photographers actually represented the first time certain places were ever seen and published. I can’t begin to enumerate the number of times people ask: “where did you take that?” Not “what a magical place, or why is the area threatened,” but instead: “how do I get there!”
I confess to being guilty of stealing ideas, locations and I’m definitely a gear head, but the difference is, recognizing that other people’s images are merely signposts pointing the way. They’re a step on the way to developing a personal style. Copying is part of the learning process. However, what was once part of the developmental process is now commonplace. Maybe it’s because “everyone” is a photographer and with todays cameras, anyone can make high quality photographs quite easily. Could that be the problem? It comes too easy?
There’s something to be said for “suffering for your art.” That brutal process of trying, failing and only sometimes succeeding, is at once a taskmaster and teacher. My failures at times have been truly epic. Once I chased a subject across Illinois to make a quite simple photograph, but in the heat of the case, connected the flash to the wrong synch plug. The result I feared would end my photojournalistic career. I learned much from that failure: perseverance, humility, grace, forgiveness, tenacity, and perspective. A year later, I won the Pulitzer Prize.
But perhaps the most important thing I learned was to take chances and risk failure. By revisiting the same subjects with the same angles we’re playing it safe, we’re staying at the shallow end of the pool. We need to dare to risk it all.
Digital cameras foster the sense of “playing it safe.” Technology makes speed possible. The down side is that our interaction with our subject is often superficial and our photographs are merely “glancing blows.” There’s no real contact or connection. We can snap the photo, check the playback and move on.
I would argue, that a single deeply connected, well-thought image is worth more than a week’s worth of blazing away. Of course you could get lucky and get that incredible moment just because you live under some lucky star. But, more likely your finger will suffer fatigue from hitting the delete key.
Digital photography gives us the ability to know we “have the shot” before we head home. I believe that’s both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, we head home with supreme confidence. On the other hand: that edgy gnawing in our stomachs…thinking we might or might not have the shot, but not absolutely sure; made us really concentrate on “getting it right.” I personally feel I’ve gotten a little too comfortable and a trifle over-confident with my Nikon D810. When I really connect to my subject, I reclaim control and direct the camera instead of the camera directing me. That means abandoning the preconceived notions, and setting the camera to “manual.” For example: if I go into the landscape with a wide angle lens ready for the “big sky” look and suddenly a macro detail jumps into my consciousness, I change direction, lenses and approach.
My direction is often the product of “get acquainted walk through.” The simple act of walking slows me down and forces concentration and connection. It’s really that simple. Travel slowly. Look around without a camera. Walk and open your eyes, heart and mind. I like to ask myself: what if? What if I get closer? Where does my eye travel? I imagine what conditions brought this unique situation into being.
I resolved to return to part of the Vermilion Cliffs National Monument where I explored many years ago. I wanted to dissect the petrified sand dunes into intimate compositions. By boring into the scene before me, I began to notice each layer of sand, laid down over eons and frozen in time. It was a record of events just waiting for a photograph to inform of this simple miracle. I looked at this simple pattern as something more…I made a connection.
There was a time when this type of image would not have interested me in the slightest. However, with age comes a certain amount of wisdom (work in progress.) I have learned that simplicity IS the highest form of sophistication. Phil Hyde’s incredible insight was to make an image, then make a test print and live with it for a month. If he still liked it…he committed it to print.
Imagine that progression today with photographers filling countless gigabyte flash cards with thousands of images. I wonder how many images will endure and represent connections to the photographer’s heart…?
I like your “glancing blows” analogy. Thinking back, I’ve engaged in that self-defeating behavior far too often. I shall remember your phrase and try to do better. I’m blown away by your work, which, frankly, I wasn’t familiar with until your post sent me to your website. Wonderful stuff. Thanks
You’re right, Jack. This is really hard to do (and I find it very, very hard) – which is why we don’t do it. The social mirror is so powerful.
Thank you for your thoughtful article.
Thank you Jack, I came to realize that at 49 years of age I’ve had the opportunity to combine a combine my love for the wilderness with a pioneering lifestyle. Over the last decade those opportunities have largely vanished, even (or especially?) here in Southern Africa. Most areas are now managed or destroyed.
Maybe it’s a reflection purely on my own journey but I came to realize that the true adventure needs to be found on a path ever deeper inwards. That’s where my, maybe humanities unexplored wildest nature waits to be explored. Happy shooting!
Appreciated the thoughtful article that was less focused on the all consuming topic of Gear. What your article suggests is very true. One of the less becoming filters through which to shoot is ego.
Jack I really enjoyed your article, makes one think what they are passing by as they walk. ‘ My wife hunts sea glass, she calls them “lost treasures” I guess the same can be said about lost photographs we just haplessly walk past.
Jack Thank You for the reflection and reality of photography. As we age we get to slowdown and our doc’s tell us to walk more. When young we are hustling for that next job before we finish the one we are doing. Today with all the devices in hand following is more important than leading! As humans we have something internal that asks “What is over the horizon?” and when we tire of or can no longer survive where we are we walk on over that horizon! Some take up photo work as a livelihood when young (a hard life) but most as something new to get off the chair and out from in front of the boob tube! I was returning from a location and decided to explore and took the long way around, I had time and I could, and explored an area of the south smoky mountains on a drive. What I saw the most interesting was bus loads of grey heads (I is one) with walking sticks on tours almost around every corner walking the path over that horizon they thought about so many times when younger. To find a place or view no camera as seen or been can be difficult, but like you state so well, just walk!!! I read so many articles here that tell us to just walk away from a group if just a few steps to capture what few do not see, and I take note in my planning book for that future walk over the next horizon. I thank all contributors to Photography Life for their tales of visited places!
There is something in your soul that calls at you when you are somewhere to go out for that unplanned walk, even around your block, with magic box in hand. But also take your magic box for a walk day, every day!!!
Excellent observation. It’s thinking before tripping the shutter, whether landscape or streetscape. Great images, too.
Wow, Jack Dykinga writing a post on Photography Life. Nasim your site has hit the big time! :)
Jack, I have followed you for years and have bought cards gracing your photos on the cover in gift shops, and seen your work in magazines. You are a true master right up there with the other greats likes Ansel Adams.
Thanks for the insightful article, hope to learn and see more from you in the future.
Such a timely article. A recent experience best relates to your topic. I spent the last month analyzing a site of a sunrise photo I wanted to take. I picked a day when the tide was high and partly cloudy conditions were forecasted. I used TPE to know exactly where the sun would come up and it’s position relative to my foreground object, a rock outcropping. I show up and realize everything is perfect except there are no clouds. It’s 5:00am and as I wait and hope for any cloud cover, it never comes. I take a few shots realizing this is not what I had hoped for. Rather than head back home disappointed, I decide to wander as the sun breaks the horizon since I drove an hour to get here. I come upon a rock path along the shore lit by the morning sun that leads to two pine trees on a point. One alive and one dead, bare of needles. The juxtaposition of the trees in the light is striking. I spend a few minutes moving around to find the right composition of shore, path and trees and take the shot. Is it a “great” photo? Not really. But it has a sense of place, time and meaning to me personally. It reminds me of what you so aptly discuss in your article; discover, think, make a connection. It reminded me that I got to watch the sun rise over the ocean, hear gulls calling, feel the ocean breeze and photograph a scene maybe others have just walked by and not noticed. Not everyone gets to do that.
Perhaps the secret is to get a digital back for a view camera. (An imitation could be a tilt-shift lens on a digital camera). The view camera process was one that slowed you down & made you think about the subject and process. I don’t think I’ve ever paid that much attention with a conventional digital camera. It’s a meditative process.
Jack, like you, I come from a large format background, and I have been doing everything I can to retain that discipline in my digital images. I don’t take the camera out first, but I walk around until I can pre-visualize the image I want. I often look down, because the grand vista cannot always be captured in a small frame, but you can see things below you that have an impact on your soul. Only after that, and if I “feel” I have something, do I take out the camera. One time, on Facebook, you told me to use Live View on my camera, which has allowed me to adapt my large format practices to digital. I even schlep out my Pentax Zone VI modified spot meter to check my tonal ranges. Having that initial discipline has helped my DSLR work.
Are you kidding me? Jack Dykinga himself is here! Guys, if you don’t know who wrote this article, look Dykinga up. This advice is coming from a true legend.
Huge fan of your work Jack, you inspire many of us. Thank you for everything you do!!!
Ah yes, wise words indeed. I’ve pretty much given up doing landscape photography for anything other than my own personal pleasure because of the surfeit of over post processed – all the same tropes – landscape work that one sees on the web and at local shows. One of the best photos I ever captured came about as a result of casually turning around, catching a glimpse of some geese in flight between a moon and a barren tree with no time to think, just to get off one shot. Several years later, it still warms my heart to look at it.
Such a welcome surprise seeing a photographic great post here. God bless you Jack. You have brought us countless gems over the years and i hope to keep learning from you.
Much needed thoughts and perspective.
For me, if I can just slowwww down. Think. Look around. Simply take in where I’m at, not necessarily what I’m doing. Digital makes that difficult for me because in my hands is instant pleasure, instant feedback. Take one. Another, Another. Delete later. What kind of process is that? Film photography helps considerably since I always ask: “Why am I taking this?”. Discipline in that sense can be a pleasure in itself.
I’m very pleased at the reaction to the little piece from a confirmed curmudgeon. Image making is very important to me and not something I waste time doing. I have a mission to use images to speak for the land. Our National Monuments are under assault by an administration that is questioning their National Monument status. For me, this fight is personal, since I’ve been fortunate to work with real heroes in both Government and environmental organizations who helped create: the Grand Staircase-Escalante, the Vermilion Cliffs and the Sonoran Desert National Monuments. The more photographs have a reason for being, the more powerful they become. Honest depictions of the land will endure, but I fear amped colorized, over saturated, super stylized images speak more for the photographer than for the land….
Great stuff, Jack. Your thoughtful words are every bit as worthy as your excellent photographs.
For me, it is all about connection with the subject. I shoot landscapes and flowers primarily. But no matter what the subject, I have to make a connection with what I see through my viewfinder, and then wait for it to speak to me. Once it does, that is when art happens. It is twice as true for flowers. I have found that flowers have to let you in to them or else all you get is an anatomical image. I can photograph a flower one day and the picture is ordinary. The next day the picture is beautiful. The difference is in what the flower is willing to give that day. As for processing, I am like Mr. Dykinga. Minimal processing always succeeds better. If more is used, then the photo becomes a lie, in my opinion. A great example of this is water. It has become such a cliché to see long exposure misty water flowing down a waterfall or around rocks. To me it ruins the picture. When I see it I move on to view something else. Natural water is so much more beautiful. Nature is a far better artist than any of us, after all. It is better to honor that by remembering that in processing, less is more.
Hmmmm. I still think soft, long-exposure water beats waves and ripples any day. To think of long exposure photography as a “lie,” is somehow daffy. Be careful of your own dogma, it can mislead you!
Nice to “meet” you. I am impressed by your work.
Jack,
As you are one of my photographic “heroes” I am delighted to see your posting here. Have studied your images and always note their strong graphic content and their distinct way of seeing a subject–thanks for being an example, and I totally agree with the point you made here.
Yes! Yes! Yes! thanks…
I absolutely and without reservation agree with the views expressed here. I hope to be on the same path myself as I come back home having taken less and less photographs as time goes by. To think that, this year, Man will take more photos than have ever been taken in all the years before since photography was invented, is somehow a chilling thought.
Excellent and very valid points raised in the article and in the posts. However, what troubles me is the utter disdain for, boarding on lathing of, the amateur hobby photographer merely taking photos and/or documenting his/her vacation just for the sheer fun of it. What harm are they doing? Do they wear away, or otherwise degrade, the scenes they photograph and thus somehow diminish them for a later visit by you. Why can’t we just respect one another’s likes, dislikes, avocations, and enjoyment. This makes me think of the famous line from an Eagles song: “Don’t let the sound of your own wheels make you crazy.”
Not to bring politics in here but there is a chance that Vermillion Cliffs National Monument might lose its status because of the review initiated by Trump’s EO. That would be a pity. Losing even a single national monument is one too many …
“Photographs pour fourth like a never-ending stream as wave after wave of photographers visit the same tired spots trying to put down their mark. Every photo seems to literally vibrate with dramatic lines, amped color …”
Your two pictures pretty much follow the crowd.
Apparently, I touched a nerve. Your vision is your vision.
Mr. Dykinga, thank you for your contribution to Photography Life. It is a joy and a privilege for one of the contemporary greats of our craft share his thoughts and philosophy on the visualization process. I enjoyed your article, and I am a big admirer of your work.
Agreed Jack. Generally men in the industrialized civilization identify too much with what they (we) DO and HAVE . Women are generally a step ahead at this stage, expressing their identity more, or say deeper, from an innate knowing who they authentically ARE. That translates into how we express ourselves creatively into this world. Slowing down and engaging more consciously, with more awareness, is essentially the “oppsosite” to consuming scenes through the lens onto our digital cards, or film for that matter.
Thank you for sharing your observations!
I agree completely. I find that when I’m teaching workshops, if the group is all men…the emphasis tends to be gear. When just one woman is added to the mix, conversations shift to “feelings” an image evokes and the critiques are more nuanced….
Thanks for sharing this. I’ve designed a course assisting men to step authentically into their more balanced role, we start this coming monday. What I wasn’t aware of was the extend of the influence of one woman in a group of men but that makes a lot of sense to me, since the real power comes from BEING. Would be interesting to observe a single “gearheaded” man’s influence in a group if women photographers. My guess would be that he probably wouldn’t carry the same power and influence into the group. He’d probably kindle interest in equipment related aspects but not influence the “creativity level” to the same extend?
I’m so pleased to read this. I have felt this way for a long time. It has seemed to me that Photo Tours and Workshops have become a part of what Edward Abbey called “Industrial Tourism” and iconic landscapes like the big game trophy of African hunts directed (choreographed) by a professional hunting guide (but at least nothing dies and awareness is probably raised). I have been content to find out how many species of dragonflies, butterflies, birds and frogs live in the back river-edge side of our local soccer park or to walk along the banks of the Chattahoochee River and see what pictures are lying around down there. I have certainly done my own photo trips to a couple of iconic places, Great Smoky Mountain National Park, Big Bend National Park and Acadia National Park, for example but on my own and to discover, not to “get”. If I’m being honest, I am very much a copy-cat too except rather than copying the Magenta-sky heroes I find myself guided more by the quiet work of Eliot Porter (though I have made some magenta sky pictures too). I’m not going to be a famous photographer but by photographing in this way, I have made so many wonderful connections both to people and places. To me, that’s the magic carpet ride of photography. I will soften my comments by admitting that I know not completely of what I speak since I have never been on one of these big time (very expensive), multi day photo tours to iconic locales and maybe I might learn a lot. Someday I will probably try one but when I do I will select one where the emphasis will be on learning about the place, its flora and fauna and about photography, not returning home with trophies (hypocrite alert: nobody celebrates more when they come home with a new species of dragonfly than me but I believe the celebration comes from the feeling of discovery.)
I like and agree with your comment as much as your original article, maybe more! I’m very pleased at the reaction to the little piece from a confirmed curmudgeon. Image making is very important to me and not something I waste time doing. I have a mission to use images to speak for the land. Our National Monuments are under assault by an administration that is questioning their National Monument status. For me, this fight is personal, since I’ve been fortunate to work with real heroes in both Government and environmental organizations who helped create: the Grand Staircase-Escalante, the Vermilion Cliffs and the Sonoran Desert National Monuments. The more photographs have a reason for being, the more powerful they become. Honest depictions of the land will endure, but I fear amped colorized, over saturated, super stylized images speak more for the photographer than for the land….” There’s lots of places that need defending and if we only photograph the icons, that’s all that we will end up defending. “Stand in the place where you live” -REM.
Ooops, I failed to add the open quotes when I began quoting Jack but I did get the close quotes in there. Sorry.
The process of discovery I read in many of the wonderful comments about Jack’s amazing work are beautifully summed up in a short radio (with video) essay by Ira Glass. It’s from his NPR Radio show called “This American Life”. It’s called “The Gap”. Everyone struggling with creativity and originality in their photographic work should watch this 2 minute essay. My favorite version on Vimeo has the message illustrated with various media like silkscreens and words spelled with alphabet soup letters! Really, it sums up the creative struggle and the only real solution in such brilliant brevity, it must be heard (and seen) several times. Google it, watch it, and take his message to heart. You won’t be disappointed.