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

In my workshops, there are no secrets. My co-instructors freely share all their insights with the students, whether it’s locations, techniques, materials, thinking, etc. It’s far more rewarding to share than to be secretive. We share our discoveries with each other regularly. I learned the compensating developer procedure from Ray McSavaney, who taught workshops with me for many years. I learned about potassium ferricyanide reducing (bleaching) from Jay Dusard, who teaches workshops with me regularly. I learned about printing and masking procedures for Ilfochrome from Keith Logan, a fine color photographer from Alberta, Canada. Don Kirby, with whom I’ve hiked and photographed for years, has greatly extended my understanding of masking. Today, I’m learning most of my digital photography through a long-time friend, Bennett Silverman.

Worthwhile photographers reason that if you learn one of their procedures, you may be able to eventually show them a wonderful photograph that benefited from that technique. Dedicated photographers enjoy not only making great photographs, but also seeing great photographs made by others. My list can go on and on, but my point is that people like these are the ones who are worthy of your company—but only if you are worthy of their company by sharing your discoveries with them.

Self-Critique, Interaction, and Study

Be your own toughest critic. That’s easier to say than do because it involves an extremely difficult transition from subjective response to objective analysis. Throughout the book, I’ve stressed the importance of allowing your emotional response to tell you what interests you. When you get excited about making an exposure in the field, you do so because you’re subjectively moved by something in front of you. You respond emotionally.

It’s just as important to be objective in analyzing your own effort spontaneously. You respond intuitively. But I’ve also stressed the importance of perfecting the imagery with nons-pontaneous thinking about camera position, lenses, filters, exposure, etc. When you look at the print days or weeks later, you must remove that subjective response and ask objectively and analytically, “Does the photograph alone convey my thoughts?” In essence, you must separate yourself from your personal involvement and ask if you’d honestly be inclined to stop and look at that photograph. That’s a tough transition. It’s a tough question. But it must be done if you want to analyze your work realistically. The subjective, emotional beginning provides your photographs with spark and life; the objective, analytical end assures that you present strong, meaningful work to others.

This is something you must do by yourself, but there is also more that you can do with others. Seek out classes and workshops with good instructors who will push your development, and seek out peers with whom you can share your experiences while pushing one another.

Try to engage in a periodic critique of your own work and the work of others—not on a competitive basis, but on a mutually supportive basis. Again, this will stimulate your thought process and put you in regular contact with other photographers, other approaches, and other ways of thinking. There may be organizations or clubs in your area that promote such gatherings, and if not, see if you can start one yourself.

Beware of organizations that sponsor contests. Contests are antithetical to art. Imagine a contest pitting Rembrandt against Van Gogh, Stieglitz against Strand, you against the next person. Who’s better? It’s a foolish question that deserves no answer. The only pertinent questions in art are, “Does it say something to me?” and “Does it show insight by either answering a question or posing one?” Contests are usually based on rules of composition. The only worthwhile rule is the one stated by Edward Weston, “Good composition is the strongest way of seeing.” Rules constrict creativity. In fact, creativity thrives when rules are broken.

Look for knowledgeable people to critique your work. We all begin by having friends and relatives look at our work, but at some point you have to go to those who really know what they’re talking about and are willing to say what they think. It may not be easy to take, but it’s the best way to boost your photographic development. Go back to your friends and relatives between bouts with those who know, and let them build up your shattered ego with praise. Then, when you’re ready, go back in the ring with the pros for another round.

Read about photography and photographers. Such books can open up new avenues of thought and stimulate new directions. Look at photographs and read what the critics have to say about them, but always take their words with a grain of salt. (A review of Reed Thomas’s exhibit in 1981 was quite positive, in general, except for some critical remarks about the images made from multiple negatives. The interesting thing was that Reed had never made a print from multiple negatives, but that didn’t slow down the critic who failed to look carefully enough to note that the multiple image effect came from window reflections and objects behind the windows!) Here and there, good critics can shed some illumination on photographs, and those reviews are useful for helping you analyze photographs yourself.

Photography classes and seminars can be very useful, depending on the instructor. Learn who the instructor is before wasting your time with a poor one. I feel strongly that the best way to learn photography (and perhaps many other arts, crafts, and even some academic subjects) is old-fashioned apprenticeship. Apprenticeship is long outmoded, though it would be great if it could be brought back today. That approach allows you to learn directly from a master; no other approach can be as effective.

I could stand guilty of prejudice, but I feel that workshops are the best means of achieving photographic growth. Workshops are today’s closest thing to apprenticeship. You can choose the photographer whose work you admire and take one or more workshops from him or her. You don’t have tests. You’re not graded on your performance, your attendance, your participation, or your attitude. You sign up because you want to learn. I got my start that way, and I see the intensity that develops during an uninterrupted week of interaction with other students and instructors. Nothing can be as informative as that exchange of information and viewpoints. Total, continuous immersion in photography for an extended period, without the distractions of everyday life, focuses the mind on photography. Nothing else intrudes. It’s the best possible method of acquiring maximum information and ideas in a minimum amount of time. You’ll improve your photographic techniques and define your photographic interests and goals.

Finally, always keep an open mind. Consider new methods and approaches. Seek to expand your own frontiers. Photography is a continuing, growing process. Keep growing. There’s always another valid approach, another new insight.

Keep searching.

Appendix A. Testing Materials and Equipment for Traditional Photography

SOME PEOPLE LOVE TO TEST materials and equipment, others abhor the chore. I tend to fall closest to the latter group. There are, however, several tests and equipment checks that I feel are important enough to perform periodically. The following is a run-down of the several that I feel are mandatory.

ASA (ISO) Test

A simple test for film ASA is the following. Expose a gray card at Zone 1, i.e., four stops below the Zone 5 meter reading. (Actually you can expose anything at four stops below the meter reading, because the meter reading is always Zone 5, remember?) Then make two additional exposures, one stop below and one stop above the Zone 1 exposure. All three exposures should be measured at the ASA you have been using until now. Develop the negatives. The true Zone 1 exposure is the one that just begins to impact the film as discernible density above the film base fog.