Let me preface the below by saying that I don't intend this post as a direct reference to, or attack upon the original photograph posted here, more as an observation on the nature of much photography, its worth and what it seems to mean to different people.
And with all due respect, this image holds no interest. Why not take one low res shot of something compelling?
That ¡s the problem with so much in the world of photographic images: too many elephants crowding the rooms.
Folks get blinded by the cost of their gear; by the manipulation facilities available and their competence in using them; others can no longer see the wood for the trees and despair of finding nirvana. Well forget it: there is no photographic nirvana. The best you can hope for is to find the occasional cracking great image, perhaps render it successfully and find somebody else somewhere who actually likes it so much that they let you know.
Someone mentioned the success measurement inherent in the bucks photography puts on the table. Yes, to an extent that’s true, especially in a really professional situation, where you win a commission in the face of the always stiff competition for it, where the buying is mostly done by people with a lot of experience in the medium and with a lot of practice in making calls and decisions on matters such as style etc.
I’m not so sure that you can extrapolate that to include the example of what the ‘public’ is buying or ignoring. Going by the evidence of my own eyes and ears, that usually comes down to the lowest common denominator in all things. If you make your purchasing decisions on whether you or your uncle can produce the same thing as the ‘artist’ is selling, whether an image matches or clashes with your curtains, then that is something very else to a professional judgement.
During my years as a Tony Stone contributor, as a sideline to girl pix, I tried to interest them in graphic travel stuff from the trips: you know – bold colours against pale backgrounds, one mule working an otherwise empty field; a bent road sign on a curve at the edge of a huge drop to the sea below; that single tree on the brow of a field of corn - stuff that had some visual drama or dynamic. They told me that they understood perfectly well what I was on about, but that there was simply no market for that kind of thing other than in postcards, and that brought in negligible return. Travel meant the standard ‘classic’ shot of the same church, palace or ruin. And Stone was very successful – became Getty’s take-off platform. They understood the world’s buying preferences and the precise horses for which courses.
In the end, if the thing is hobby, then why on Earth not forget about the latest and greatest equipment, about spending your kids’ inheritance (or your next car!) on some exotica that won’t make you any better a photographer but certainly much the poorer?
Does it make sense to pay through the nose to have the sharpest picture of something dull? The best thing you can do for yourself is to relax and realise that it’s just a game, some fun, an alternative to watching tv. I wouldn’t be at all surprised that you might discover something better in your work simply by cutting yourself free of gadgetry syndrome, learning how best to use what you have. With the realisation might come some ultimate pleasure rather than angst about what you’d really, really need to buy to make you a better snapper.
Rob C