I Wish I had Such Great Subjects to Photograph

"I wish I had some of the great subjects you are finding in your area."

My answer: ... Great subject matter is easy to find, but most photographers go at it from the wrong direction. You have to have something you want to say to the world. You have to be interested in something and you have to want to tell its story through your photographs.

I would not disagree ... However, someone needs to note that if the criterion for something being worthwhile photography, or being a good photographer, is about saying something to the world, or telling a story, then Edward Weston, Man Ray and others are not good photographers, and they’re some of the 20th century’s best. Weston did mostly nothing but “pretty pictures” and did them astoundingly well.

I agree 100% with Chris. But I disagree with Larry. Both Weston and Man Ray most certainly used their photographs to tell us something. Weston was influential in moving photography away from pictorialism (pretty but otherwise meaningless pictures) to do two things: (1) to show what things look like when photographed (as did Winograd) and (2) to show us that "boring" objects like a cabbage leaf are as wondrous as say a sunset; there's also an element of the surreal, as he transforms and distorts everyday objects into something strange. Like Weston, Man Ray took photography in new directions, and said this about his work, "it is designed to amuse, bewilder, annoy or to inspire reflection"; his roots lie in Dadaism, which ridiculed the world, including art and craft, often through parody and humour (Duchamp's latrine is a famous example of this).

So, both of these photographers did exactly what Chris described: they had something to say, and used their photographs to tell us. Weston and Man Ray could be said to be photographing ideas and concepts, whereas most photographers place more emphasis on the real world (whether that's objects themselves or something associated with them such as their history).

I took the journey Chris describes. I started photography late, in 2003. I was rubbish at first but joined the local camera club and took courses, which taught me the craft and visual skills needed for photography. A few years later I'd learnt how to take an OK photo - or at least people seemed to like them! - and I applied to join the Royal Photographic Society as way to learn more. To become a member, you were judged on a panel of photos - mine are shown below.

A few more years later, and I was losing interest in photography. I could take a half-decent photo, but was the point? How many photos of sunsets and feathers and other things that caught my eye did I need? What were these photos for?

But then I met someone who was doing a photography degree, and they explained how they took photos. At that time (2010), I photographed by looking at things around me: if something seemed interesting or caught my eye, I photographed it. "Interesting" was random: shape, light and shade, funny, pretty, history, spooky...

My friend told me that they took photographs in a completely different way. They used photography to tell viewers something, as if the photos were an essay, but using images instead of words. She also explained that photos weren't just pictures like a painting but part of the real world, almost like a footprint. Even today we tend to believe that photos have some element of truth to them (unlike, say, paintings), that they are somehow connected to reality. So, for her, photographs tell a story and are evidence that something happened; and she strongly believes that a good photograph links these two aspects.

All this was a revelation to me, and rekindled my interest in photography. Not long after I did a master's degree in photography, and now I photograph not things but ideas. These days, there are central themes common to all my photographic projects, notably science, technology and memento mori, but usually these are in the background to a project's main theme. I've done projects on how fast technology changes, junk food, collecting insects, London's lost River Fleet, and the importance of forests to Finland, among others.

The panel below is part of "Insecta" (my project on insect collecting, with about 80 photos). Compare that with my Royal Photographic Society (RPS) panel from 6 years earlier. The RPS panel photos are OK, but some are cliched, many fail to hold your attention because they say nothing beyond what you see; and as a set of photos they quickly bore - because they are just a bunch of random pictures, and collectively tell no story. In contrast, the Insecta photos do have a story to tell: even if you know nothing about the project (go to my website if you're interested!), it's clear that the the photographs belong together as a group and that the photographer was trying to say something.

It was a long journey to this point, and a lot of work, but I completely agree with Chris. If you're bored with your photography, think about what makes you tick, what's important to you, and consider how can incorporate that into your photography. It might be your town and its history, like Chris, or something more abstract like climate change.

Royal Photographic Society panel (2007):

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Insecta panel (2013):

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I agree 100% with Chris. But I disagree with Larry. Both Weston and Man Ray most certainly used their photographs to tell us something
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Rich, I hope that I don’t disappoint you when I tell you that you are not disagreeing with me at all, but only disagreeing with what you thought I was saying.

My thoughts were aimed at the idea, often voiced around here, more than many other venues, that in order to become a “better photographer” you need to learn how to use a series of photographs to “tell a story.” To tell the viewer the story you want to share with the world, one of the uses of photography done to great effect by people like Salgado.
I was only trying to point out that narrowing your photographic endeavors to that branch of photography, using a series of photographs to tell some story you want to tell, and learning to do that with some personal artistic “vision”, isn't the same as learning to be a better photographer, it’s just learning to be better at that one genre of photography. I was only questioning the belief that becoming a better photographer=learning to tell a story, as if that genre of photography was the summa of photography, instead of what it actually is, something which some people like. They like looking at it, they like doing it, which convinces some people that it’s the end game. It’s not, at least not for anyone having a different artistic vision.

So, that’s all I was addressing, though the substantial difference between “telling a story” and “saying something” got lost in translation. Am well aware that Man Ray had something to say. Every photo I have ever taken said something, even the ones where I forgot to remove the lens cap (Duchamp!)
Art criticism is a morass of intellectual non sequiturs.

I have seen your insecta collection before. If I did not praise it then, I will do so now. It is lovely work even though it does not “tell a story” a la Salgado, it certainly says something at a level beyond my capabilities.
Thanks for your thoughts, with which I concur completely.
 
Rich, I hope that I don’t disappoint you when I tell you that you are not disagreeing with me at all, but only disagreeing with what you thought I was saying. [snip]
Sorry I misunderstood! And I also agree wholly with you: there are many ways to do photography. I think what is at the heart of this thread, i.e. an answer to "I can't find anything to photograph", is to put some of yourself into any photograph you take.

When I was learning photography, one exercise I was given was to put my camera in fully auto mode (so I couldn't fiddle with any controls!) and to make "interesting" photos in only one room of my house without moving anything. That forced me to put something of myself into those photos. So, think of the different ways to photograph, say, that apple core on the coffee table, and how that can change what each photograph conveys...

Ideas develop too, so sometimes "photography" is not taking photos but thinking about photos or even doing nothing and letting ideas simmer away. That can make "boring" subjects interesting. I'm currently working on a project on Finland. I decided to explore its forests - which are very important to Finns. I had two visits planned. Last year I came back with photos of a forest. They were OK, but at the end of the day they were just "nice" photos of a forest, and I confess I was uninspired and unexcited when photographing. And the photos didn't show what I wanted them to (i.e. that forests were special to Finns).

My next trip was this spring (the world fell apart big time while I was away - with Finland closing its borders, and my flight back to the UK cancelled twice!). Anyway, in the year between visits to Finland, my project developed hugely without a single photo being taken - and I'm now very happy with it. The project's still about Finland's forests, but whereas it was initially on positive aspects such as Finns' love of nature and the wilderness, I'm now included the role of Finnish forests during World War 2 (the Finns fought the Russians (Finland borders Russia), and managed to hold its own and not be conquered (unlike many other countries). So, the project boils down to "Forests, life, death, Finland" in a nutshell!

The project now has three parts, each a series of eight photos in a row, one above the other. The first row is the photos of the forest I took last year (the overview of the forest and nature, as it were). The second row is this year's photos from Finland: still lifes taken in the snow (nature close up); they deliberately have a calm, stylised look, to contrast with the last row. The last row is photographs of war in Finnish forests (nature disrupted) - all genuine amateur snapshots from 1939-44 that I managed to find. The aim is that all the photos will form a grid of A2 size (24 inches) prints when displayed on a gallery wall (assuming I can get them exhibited!).

So, my photos of trees that I found uninspiring to take last year, well, I'm now happy with them and glad I took them!

Below are some photos from the project (very rough - mine are straight from the camera, the war photos are snaps of the prints using my phone!).

As Chris said in his original post:

You have to have something you want to say to the world. You have to be interested in something and you have to want to tell its story through your photographs.

If you want to make great photographs, start by having something you want to say to the world, something you want people to see, to notice, to remember. Once you have that in mind, you'll start seeing good subject matter. "Good" means things that fit into the story you want to tell.

PS: thanks for your comments about my work, and to charjohncarter too!

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Rich, off topic, but there is a recent Finnish movie, "Unknown Soldier" which is about the Finnish war against the Russians in WWII, which you might find interesting as per your last post. The cinematography is good and most of it, yes, was fought in the forests. There is a recently released DVD with English subtitles. It's pretty good, but not exactly a feelgood movie.
 
Stephen Shore's book, "American Surfaces" helped me understand the value of photographing the everyday, mundane stuff that is right in front of me. I used to go out of my way to pretty things up. Looking for a way to not include a utility pole, for instance. Now I am more open to tell it like it is.

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This store is closed now. Too bad. In my mind the dreary winter light, bare trees and lack of people somehow speaks to the sadness of something that is gone. Maybe the sign should say "Closed."



Nice.
The "mundane stuff" becomes so interesting when put on paper.
 
"I wish I had some of the great subjects you are finding in your area."

I photograph people. As a professional photographer (now retired), people hired me because they expected me to make them look beautiful. To achieve that objective, there is a list of necessary criteria that I used. It started from the very beginning when I would meet with a client(s) for the first time.

It was a great business but I don’t miss it.
 
There’s another bear trap many like myself have the temptation to fall into... the bear trap waiting is the notion that buying another camera or lens, or both, is going to improve one’s photography. I should disable eBay and free myself. After all I have many great cameras (RF, SLR, even a half frame Pen F).

There are so many images on the RFF forum from which to derive inspiration and so many lacklustre on the likes of Twitter and Instagram. It’s all too easy to fill your head with crap believing that’s the standard to achieve.
Thought provoking thread / discussion, Chris. Many thanks!
 
All this insistence on meaning and purpose
and vision and saying something
feels so burdensome to me.

There are other ways to approach photography.
Reverence for the moment.
For what is, simply for its own significance.
For the simple pleasure of creating
something interesting, arresting, engaging—
dare I say, beautiful.
For saying to others, "Hey, look at this!"

Let go. Abandon ego, intention, agenda.
The world if too full of them.
Be alive to what's in front of you,
purely for the sake of its own wonder.

What's so essential about
your own perspective, anyway,
that the objects you photograph so need it?

Feed the soul rather than the mind.
 
Good food for thought here. I've been pleased with some serendipitous images I made this year (mostly iPhone capture!) but I'd like to work with more intention. I think having a "subject" can enhance intention. But paying "attention" to what's before you in any setting is also important. What I find difficult is waiting on the right moment when I am composing an image: seems I am always rushed, or in the right place at the wrong time (lighting, etc., or worse - no camera!) There are places I want to revisit when conditions are more favorable. I keep a journal now to record, filter and focus my intentions. For now I'm happy to work on technique, since I've been away from using film for a couple of decades. I'm learning all over, but with fresh eyes, as it were.

Thanks for the great insights and comments so far.
 
"I wish I had some of the great subjects you are finding in your area."

The quote above is from a comment left by a fellow RFF member on my "New Photos From Fort Wayne" thread. I have spent more than 20 years documenting life in my hometown, Fort Wayne, Indiana.

I began typing a response to that comment, then realized I was writing something that ought to be the basis for another discussion, so I have written my response below. It is my advice to anyone having trouble finding things to photograph.

My answer:

Great subject matter is easy to find, but most photographers go at it from the wrong direction. You have to have something you want to say to the world. You have to be interested in something and you have to want to tell its story through your photographs.

Most photographers instead go out with a camera looking for 'something interesting' or 'something pretty' or something 'visually striking.' The photographs made through this mode of work often lack depth because there's nothing to them but a desire to make a pretty picture. In addition, when one puts together a portfolio of such work (on a website, or in an exhibit, or your portfolio book), there is no cohesive body of work.

Some people try to overcome that by creating a 'style' that is based on using unique techniques (like alt processes), exotic equipment, or visual gimmicks like overprocessed HDR images. In the end, this fails because once you get past the gimmick, you still have to confront the image and what it depicts.

If you want to make great photographs, start by having something you want to say to the world, something you want people to see, to notice, to remember. Once you have that in mind, you'll start seeing good subject matter. "Good" means things that fit into the story you want to tell. Just walking around with a camera hoping to see something interesting is not a good strategy (though carrying a camera all the time once you know what you want to say with your work IS a good idea!).

Hey Chris,

I missed this the first time around. Very wise words. Thank you.

Best,
-Tim
 
This thread reminds me of a recent Leica interview -quite a horrible interview at that, with Ralph Gibson, who speaks of the necessity to have 'a point of departure'. I find that a bit narrow: know what you want and go out and get it. Martin Parr's philosophy is broader and more interesting: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tg6VTRjIXmk
But don’t you think Martin Parr has lost the plot recently. In my opinion he was at his best when he shot the non-conformists and the last resort, sometime later. More recently he has been taking plates of food, interspersed with individuals eating food, or in supermarkets buying food. Not my cup of tea. Tony Ray-Jones will be turning in his grave.
 
But don’t you think Martin Parr has lost the plot recently. In my opinion he was at his best when he shot the non-conformists and the last resort, sometime later. More recently he has been taking plates of food, interspersed with individuals eating food, or in supermarkets buying food. Not my cup of tea. Tony Ray-Jones will be turning in his grave.

I like Parr's advice: "Don't be afraid to take bad pictures."
 
Parr's subjects don't bother me nearly as much as his cartoon colors.

But that's beside the point. Indulge me for a few minutes.

In 2016 I underwent surgery that put me out of commission. To help with recovery, I got out and walked every morning. Then I woke up one morning and couldn't walk. That turned out to be a spinal condition that further limits my ability to ambulate. Follow all that up with a few more surgeries and eventually some improvements followed by COVID and isolation. Throughout this period, I continued to photograph everything around me. The more I photographed, the more I saw to photograph. For a time I could only walk as far as the vacant houses on my block and the neighbor's homes next door. I photographed there. I took pictures at several doctor's offices and a multitude of pictures from the car. There is always something to photograph because the light is always there and the light is always changing.

Prior to these event, I did most of my "best" pictures when I traveled. Going through my older photos I was surprised to discover my most recent photos of the mundane stuff around me were stronger and better (at least to my eyes) than the scenic places I had visited in the past.

Try it. You don't need a project or a "point of departure" or any goals. Just go out when the light looks good to you and start seeing.
 
All this insistence on meaning and purpose
and vision and saying something
feels so burdensome to me.

There are other ways to approach photography.
Reverence for the moment.
For what is, simply for its own significance.
For the simple pleasure of creating
something interesting, arresting, engaging—
dare I say, beautiful.
For saying to others, "Hey, look at this!"

Let go. Abandon ego, intention, agenda.
The world if too full of them.
Be alive to what's in front of you,
purely for the sake of its own wonder.

What's so essential about
your own perspective, anyway,
that the objects you photograph so need it?

Feed the soul rather than the mind.




I've known a lot of artists with that philosophy. Every single one was a failure because they had no direction or ambition.

Life is too short to throw away. Especially for me. I've been in poor health since early childhood, when I began having seizures. I had a stroke in 2013, and nearly died from an antibiotic-resistant lung infection in 2018. If I didn't want to die an unknown failure, I HAD to be ambitious, hard working, and thoughtful about my work. I don't know that I will have a long time to float around with my head in the clouds; I have to do this NOW, before another stroke or infection kills me.

I'm an artist; this IS my life's work. It is not a hobby or something I dabble in so that people will think I'm interesting.
 
There’s another bear trap many like myself have the temptation to fall into... the bear trap waiting is the notion that buying another camera or lens, or both, is going to improve one’s photography. I should disable eBay and free myself. After all I have many great cameras (RF, SLR, even a half frame Pen F).

There are so many images on the RFF forum from which to derive inspiration and so many lacklustre on the likes of Twitter and Instagram. It’s all too easy to fill your head with crap believing that’s the standard to achieve.
Thought provoking thread / discussion, Chris. Many thanks!




So true. Equipment is important to the extent that you need the right gear for the job. If (for example) you want to photograph birds in flight, buying a 600mm lens is probably a good idea and will help you get better photos than you'd get with (for example) a 90mm lens. If you know what you want to do and what equipment is needed for the work, then money spent on that equipment is a wise investment.

The problem is that a lot of people don't like their photos, and they think buying a new lens or camera will 'inspire' them. So they buy something and their photos are still not great. You have to have the inspiration first, then get the gear needed to bring your ideas to fruition....buying the gear with no direction will not suddenly inspire you.
 
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