Tom dinning
Registrant*
I recently read some articles on fine art landscape photography. It was from a web site of a 'friend' on FB. He spoke of beauty and intent and purpose and emotion. He wrote with passion and experience. His photographs were vivid, colorful, expansive. He is surely a fine photographer. He has all the qualities: great cameras, although he talks of being able to do the same with my point and press, patience, an eye for beauty in nature, an emotional intelligence, well educated and an impressive web site and DVDs.
So, what am I missing? His photographs appear poster-like, replicas of many I have seen from others, something I would find in an office waiting room or above a pin striped chaise longue in an executive apartment. Certainly not where I would expect to find fine art such as a gallery (except his own) or a contemporary public gallery where representatives of our current innovators are selected for display.
The push to such photography is forceful. It suggests a single pathway to recognition and financial gain. It provides us with the emotional strokes we so desire. It defines the current trends to stereotyped postcard photography. It encourages us to compete against the benchmarks set by the judgement of others. It stifles conversation on life as we see it on a daily basis. It hinders our own digression from the norm. It lacks diversification. It records little of our cultural heretage. It has little purpose than to please.
How many fine art photographs of the Grand Canyon or Half Dome do we need to see to know it exists? Geology is a slow process. Little changes.
Yet every day those things we assume as constant, change dramatically. The route we take to work, the house we live in, the neighborhood, the cities we visit, the social events of outer culture are all under constant flex. Why, in minutes, you can observe a thousand different scenes at a crossroad. Every instant there is drama, humor and pathos. Every second we can see the ever changing patterns of our society. Every day a new pallet is presented from which we can select that which interests us, we find beauty in, we can record for prosperity, explanation, and enjoyment.
Take time to stand at a crossroad somewhere in your life and photograph it.
[/url]_DSF4226 by Tom Dinning, on Flickr}
So, what am I missing? His photographs appear poster-like, replicas of many I have seen from others, something I would find in an office waiting room or above a pin striped chaise longue in an executive apartment. Certainly not where I would expect to find fine art such as a gallery (except his own) or a contemporary public gallery where representatives of our current innovators are selected for display.
The push to such photography is forceful. It suggests a single pathway to recognition and financial gain. It provides us with the emotional strokes we so desire. It defines the current trends to stereotyped postcard photography. It encourages us to compete against the benchmarks set by the judgement of others. It stifles conversation on life as we see it on a daily basis. It hinders our own digression from the norm. It lacks diversification. It records little of our cultural heretage. It has little purpose than to please.
How many fine art photographs of the Grand Canyon or Half Dome do we need to see to know it exists? Geology is a slow process. Little changes.
Yet every day those things we assume as constant, change dramatically. The route we take to work, the house we live in, the neighborhood, the cities we visit, the social events of outer culture are all under constant flex. Why, in minutes, you can observe a thousand different scenes at a crossroad. Every instant there is drama, humor and pathos. Every second we can see the ever changing patterns of our society. Every day a new pallet is presented from which we can select that which interests us, we find beauty in, we can record for prosperity, explanation, and enjoyment.
Take time to stand at a crossroad somewhere in your life and photograph it.
