Bruce Barnbaum - The Art of Photography - An Approach to Personal Expression

Figure 15-7. Phantom Arch, Lower Antelope Canyon

Chapter 16. Thoughts on Creativity

CREATIVITY. What is it? Where does it come from? How can I become more creative? These questions are asked constantly. They are important and worthy of discussion.

In Western art, creativity is almost synonymous with originality. I specify Western art, because in Eastern art—as well as in primitive art—originality is relatively less important. Most Eastern and primitive art adheres to traditional methods, motifs, imagery, styles, and messages. An Eastern or primitive artist first strives for the quality of the ancient masters. The best artists are recognized for their superior work, and then they have the status that allows them to delve into innovation. Subsequently their innovative work is much acclaimed, producing a new standard for future artists.

Not so in Western art. Attempts to emulate the work of past masters are regarded as redundant, hollow, and meaningless. Efforts that are reminiscent of past masters are often frowned upon as “copies”. At best, an attempt to copy the work of a past master—or even the appearance of copying—might be looked upon as a good learning experience, but certainly not as an attempt to produce a significant artistic statement. The connotations of copying are decidedly negative.

But when an artistic work appears to be “new”, it’s viewed in a more favorable light. New work indicates significant differences from the work of past masters, even if older processes are utilized. For example, Paul Caponigro uses traditional black-and-white silver prints, traditional landscape imagery, and traditional methods of presentation (i.e., mounted photographs on standard white museum board). Yet his work is quite different from that of Ansel Adams or Edward Weston. It would be difficult to confuse a Caponigro photograph with an Adams or a Weston photograph, and such comparisons are rarely made. Adams and Weston endowed the landscape with distinct qualities through their photographs: Adams with Wagnerian drama, Weston with subtlety and clarity. Caponigro endows the landscape with an ethereal, mystical quality. The subject matter is not so very different, but the way it is handled surely is. Caponigro’s work is accepted as original, unique, personal, and full of artistic merit. So is the work of Jerry Uelsmann. For all the surrealism of Uelsmann’s multiple negative imagery, he still uses the traditional black-and-white silver print; the subject matter is often drawn from traditional landscape imagery (though combined in a nontraditional manner); and the work is mounted in the traditional manner on standard white museum board. A Uelsmann photograph is strikingly dissimilar from one by Adams or Weston—more dissimilar than a photograph by Caponigro.

After rappelling into Lower Antelope Canyon in 1983, I had the most wonderful photographic day of my career. This photograph struck me as analogous to magnetic lines of force. The rich tonalities, smooth forms, and lyrical balance make it positively sensual .

Figure 16-1. Wall with Two Ridges, Lower Antelope Canyon

Both Caponigro and Uelsmann are accepted as creative artists. Each one presents a view of reality and imagination that is unique, compelling, thought provoking, and skillful. In a word, each artist is creative. Each brings a fresh viewpoint to photography, one that has no antecedent. The methods may be traditional, but the seeing is new. The feeling is new. It’s original.

I believe that creativity is a product of intelligence. I don’t believe that creative work can be produced by fools, idiots, dullards, or mediocre people, except in the rarest of accidents. Creativity is a product of desire, thought, experience, experimentation, and inner conviction. Taken together, these five qualities imply intelligence and commitment. Let’s look at them one at a time, though they are so interrelated that it’s often difficult to separate them in a satisfactory manner.

DESIRE. It’s hard to imagine creativity simply happening without a preexisting desire. The person looking for creativity sees possibilities that others tend to miss. As Ansel Adams put it, “Chance favors the prepared mind.” The desire must be an active one, accompanied by actions that result in fulfillment of the goal. I don’t believe in a “laid back” approach to creativity. It’s something that you must pursue; it will not come to you.

While it’s not always easy to recreate something that has been done in the past, it’s usually easier than doing something for the first time. Creativity implies originality—doing something new—therefore, it also implies difficulty. Few difficult things are even attempted without a deep, active desire to succeed.

Creative photography can be done with subject matter that has been photographed previously by others, or with untested subject matter. It can involve any of the controls in the field, any darkroom or computer techniques, alternative processes (i.e., platinum/palladium printing, digital methods, alternative color print processes, etc.), unique methods of presentation, and every other conceivable variable in the vast realm of photography. The desire must be accompanied by the next element, thought; without thinking and planning, desire is as useless as it is to a vagrant wishing for a million dollars.

THOUGHT. One of the biggest differences between creative photographers and noncreative photographers or casual snapshooters is the thinking that precedes and accompanies all aspects of the photographic process. Each of the many controls of photography can alter the final image. By chance, a happy accident can produce an unexpectedly pleasing result—even for a dullard, but the dullard won’t recognize the originality of the unexpected. Only the intelligent, thinking individual will do so.

More often than not, creativity is based on careful thinking, reasoning, planning, and execution. Chance happenings may be part of the process, but after the initial surprise, the effect can be incorporated into future planning in a controlled manner. This requires thought, intelligence, and insight, as well as some knowledge of past photography. You don’t have to be a photohistorian, but it’s good to know something about the history of photography. There is little benefit in working on your “original” idea only to find that it’s been done previously—except, of course, to refine and improve your thought processes and techniques. Furthermore, knowledge of the history of photography can be a springboard to new ideas and real creativity.

Thought also implies the ability to distinguish real creativity from imagined creativity. While any snapshot you take tomorrow has never existed before and may therefore be considered “original”, in the deeper, artistic sense it has surely existed countless times before. To do something that truly has never been done before requires planning, as well as a great deal of personal insight.

EXPERIENCE. This can prove to be a double-edged sword. Experience can and should free you from concentrating on the mundane, mechanical aspects of the photographic process and allow you to concentrate on new concepts, techniques, and approaches. Experience tells you what to expect from most things you’ve done previously, freeing you from concerns with the basics. Yet too often, experience tends to lock you into regular habits and proven techniques, stifling creative potential. Every photographer has to guard against allowing experience to become a means of growing stale.