I agreed that the article was seriously flawed, especially the parts about the ability of humans to detect the "fineness" of various sensory inputs, whatever that might mean. There just isn't any such thing as an objectively fine wine.
However, there is an interesting argument to be made for "hyper-reality" as an aesthetic pursuit. Despite what some of his critics here say, you *can* see things with photography that you can't see with the eye, because photography sees differently, and isn't directly connected to a brain. So you can magnify things, and isolate things, give people time to study things that are always in motion, but with a photograph, are stopped. Would you be amazed by the astonishing structure and color of a dragonfly if you'd only seen them flitting about a pond? There was an American watercolorist named John Stuart Ingle (full disclosure: I once wrote a book about him) who painted highly detailed realist watercolors that were usually larger than life-size, because you could then *notice* things that otherwise you wouldn't. (*Notice* rather than *see.* Of course you could see them, but you'd never notice them without the help of "hyper-reality.") John's paintings are quite striking, and, in fact, after he picked a subject, he'd examine it with a large-format camera before he began work.
But, in the end, "hyper-reality" as an aesthetic simply misses many things that makes photography compelling. I'm not sure that's necessarily so, but in practical terms, that seems to be the case. I've mentioned before that I've never really seen a photograph in which extreme resolution is critical. When you think of possible examples -- some of Ansel Adams' work -- you quickly realize that they were using film and equipment that can't resolve at the level that modern equipment can, nor does it have the dynamic range. So to make, say, a photo at that level (the level of Moonrise) you don't really need Mark's MF equipment.
The bigger problem, in my opinion, is that Mark misses one key to really exceptional photography, and that is the power of the subject, as distinct from newness or unfamiliarity. To take the flower photos as an example, the flowers are boring and pedestrian. ALL flowers are, when simply shot as pretty flowers -- the photos simply can't compete with the reality, and the reality of flowers is common. You can go down and buy a bunch at the supermarket for $5 that are better, and more real, than any hyper-realistic photo. When you look at flower photos by a really good photographer, like Robert Mapplethorpe, you realize that something entirely different is going on; his flower photos aren't just about flowers. They may be about something as strange and powerful as death, or dying.
All really good photos have this kind of power, and it has nothing to do with resolution or dynamic range.