The problem with photography is that it straddles two worlds: art and craft (I'm ignoring collectors!).
Viewed as an art form, the camera is simply a different type of paintbrush or sculptor's chisel and of limited interest - I recall a talk in London when the photographer Ralph Gibson refused to answer when asked which camera he prefers, saying that it was of no consequence so long as it met his needs.
Generalising, artists are interested in the act of creation, and many are uninterested in their tools as long as they do their job. I recall finishing off an oil painting with a stick because I put my brush down and lost it!
Conceptual artists have taken this to the extreme and given up tools entirely, so only the idea behind their work remains!
Generalising again, craftsmen (and women) are more interested in technique, and that includes their tools.
As I said at the beginning, photographers fall into two camps: artists and craftsmen. If considered an art form, photography is a unique medium in that many practitioners are not artists - you can't teach yourself to be a competent illustrator of
realism if you can't draw and have few visual skills, but you can teach yourself to be a competent photographer simply by learning technique and following "rules" of composition (many of which have solid grounding in physiology, psychology and sociology).
For most of its existence, photography was scorned as an artistic medium, as many of you doubtless know, and it has only been in recent decades that photographs have been seen in the same light as paintings or sculpture. Even great photographers considered themselves craftsmen ... Lee Miller was always irritated when she was called an artist.
So, owing to this dichotomy, photographers do tend to split into "artists" and "gearheads". That's not say that you can't, of course, be both, but if you are at one end of the spectrum, there's a fair chance you're going to be irritated by someone at the other!
As for me? I'm both - but I don't understand how anyone can take thousands of photographs. If you're an illustrator, you make a few sketches that represent the essence of what you're interested in - you don't draw everything in sight that vaguely catches your eye! I apply the same philosphy to my photography: less is more. Looking at my Leica M8 shots (my main camera), I see I've taken 1,622 shots since I got the camera 2 years ago (this includes everything - shots with lens cap on as well as "keepers").
Why do I take photographs? As I said, I paint. Or I used to: stopped a decade ago, but wanted to do something artistic again, so took up photography as I thought it'd be easier (it wasn't!).
I use photography to explore the world, to communicate my vision of it. I like working on projects.
This is what I'm working on at present:
Tempus Fugit
Later this year, it'll be submitted to the Royal Photographic Society for my Associateship, and will form the basis of a book and an exhibition.
The rationale behind
Tempus Fugit is:
Art depicting death was not shunned until the 20th century:
memento mori – "remember death" – was a common theme from the late Middle Ages to the Industrial Revolution, reaching its zenith in the 17th-century
vanitas ("vanity") still-life paintings of skulls, hourglasses and other symbols of brevity.
Death is treated in today's society much like sex was by the Victorians: the subject is taboo – avoided, and spoken of in euphemisms. And art that explores death and mortality now makes us uncomfortable – reflecting our lives, mirror-like, back at us: Who am I? Where am I going? What have I done?
This panel of photographs is about time passing, things discarded, and endings: my interpretation of
memento mori. Superficially, the message seems negative, but it's not: the photographs remind us that nothing is forever, especially not us, so we should let go of the past, seize opportunities, and embrace life.
In earlier periods,
memento mori had religious undertones: life is transient, and pleasure, futile, so be pious and prepare for Divine Judgement. My message is simpler and less sombre, echoing another Latin phrase, written by Horace 2000 years ago,
carpe diem – "seize the day". Enjoy life before it's too late.
Time in Entropy
Crude Metaphor
Incidentally, I used my Leica M8 for both of these shots - so I'm one of that strange breed who use a rangefinder stuck on a tripod for studio work!