What is 'fine art photography'?

[Professional]

WOW, i asked this question in some websites and i didn't know that it has been asked here long time ago, nice thread, i need to read it, because i think all what is missing with me is skill or talent maybe to be an artist, i need to know about art to become different photographer or to be special.

[tonysmith]

I am very late to this discussion but since the general topic "what is art?" has interested me for a long time, I would like to offer a couple of thoughts.

I read a definition of art in Microsoft's Encarta several years ago that went something like "Art is a work produced through a combination of skill and imagination that is intended to produce in the audience a response that is emotional, intellectual, aesthetic, or some combination of these."

I always like this definition as relating to the "intention" not the judged quality. It allows for good art and bad art but does not discriminate. I also liked "a combination of skill and imagination" as it allows for different combinations of these qualities but insists on some of both.

As to "fine art", Wikipedia says "Fine art describes any art form developed primarily for aesthetics and/or concept rather than utility. This type of art is often expressed in the production of art objects using visual and performing art forms, including painting, sculpture, dance, theatre, architecture, photography and printmaking."

The combination of those two might define "fine art photography" pretty well.

Regards

Tony

[alainbriot]

All art is a vision penetrating the illusions of reality, and photography is one form of this vision and revelation.

Ansel Adams, foreword to Yosemite and the Range of Light, 1979.

[RSL]

All art is a vision penetrating the illusions of reality, and photography is one form of this vision and revelation.

Hear, hear, Alain. Exactly! Art hasn't much to do with the quality of printing, the sharpness of the lens, etc., etc. -- or the "artist's" intent or skill or imagination. It has to do with a transcendental experience you encounter through the object or performance that's is the "art." In my opinion, Archibald MacLeish never was a great poet, but he was a very good teacher and he understood what makes art, in this case a poem, effective. In his book, "Poetry and Experience," here's what he had to say about Dylan Thomas's "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night." a poem powerful enough to have been read to the U.S. at large as a requiem the day after John Kennedy's murder.

"I think we can probably agree that this poem is a trap and cage in which a heaven and earth we recognize is somehow caught. A boy’s agony, face to face with the humility and submission of a dying father, is held here in such a way that we not only know the pain but know something we had not known before about that mysterious turning away which is the cause of pain. But can we go further still? Can we say how this knowing is given to us?

"We can take, I think, at least one step. We can agree that whatever it is we know in this poem, we know only in the poem. It is not a knowledge we can extract from the poem like a meat from a nut and carry off. It is something the poem means — something that is gone when the poem goes and recovered only by returning to the poem’s words. And not only by returning to the poem’s words but by returning to them within the poem. If we alter them, if we change their order, though leaving their sense much as it is, if we speak them so that their movement changes, their meaning changes also."

In your words, Alain, the poem penetrates "the illusions of reality" and brings us face to face with something we can't put into words. The same thing's true of a photograph you properly can tag with the label, "art." I'm not sure MacLeish's word "know" in "whatever it is we know in this poem" is the right word, but I can't think of a better one. If the experience you have when you look at a photograph isn't transcendental -- if it doesn't "penetrate the illusions of reality" -- if you actually can explain in words what's important about the image, then it isn't "art." It may be beautiful, it may satisfy the rule of thirds, it may have diagonals, repitition, etc., etc., and it may be significant in some temporal way, but unless the transcendental experience is there, it isn't art.

[whawn]

In your words, Alain, the poem penetrates "the illusions of reality" and brings us face to face with something we can't put into words.

Uh-m-m...  Alain was quoting Adams.  

FWIW, It's clear to me that Adams was an artist, and so was Cartier-Bresson.  I submit that Weston was not, but he was a superb craftsman, which can stand in for art in nearly any weather.  

Or, you can take Frank Zappa's definition of art, and reduce the whole debate to reality:  "Art is making something out of nothing and selling it."  That makes all five persons I've mentioned artists, along with my writer grandmother and my sister-in-law who paints long twisty roots in odd colors and sells them at flea markets.  Her stuff, BTW, often comes with real emotional affect.

To add to the confusion, here's more from Wikipedia:  "That fine art is seen as being distinct from applied arts is largely the result of an issue raised in Britain by the conflict between the followers of the Arts and Crafts Movement, including William Morris, and the early modernists, including Virginia Woolf and the Bloomsbury Group. The former sought to bring socialist principles to bear on the arts by including the more commonplace crafts of the masses within the realm of the arts, while the modernists sought to keep artistic endeavor as exclusive and esoteric.

Confusion often occurs when people mistakenly refer to the Fine Arts but mean the Performing Arts (Music, Dance, Drama, etc). However, there is some disagreement here, as, for example, at York University, Fine Arts is a faculty that includes the "traditional" fine arts, design, and the "Performing Arts". Furthermore, creative writing is frequently considered a fine art as well."

In other words, the matter is largely a distinction without a difference (to borrow from I forget whom), and to argue about who is a fine artist and who is a punk is both pointless and frustrating.  

[alainbriot]

Here's more from the same source:

"Turn to the many estimable books available on the natural sciences and history of the region if you wish to ponder the facts and grasp the realities. The function of this book is to present visual evidences of memories and mysteries at a personal level of experience. Most such experiences cannot be photographed directly but are distilled at a synthesis of total personal significance; perhaps their spirit is captured by images visualized through the obedient eye of the camera."
Ansel Adams, in the Foreword to Yosemite and the Range of Light, 1979

[Rob C]

This is a terrible predicament: I simply can´t accept St Ansel as artist; I can´t accept Sarah Moon as anything but.

Rob C

[RSL]

Uh-m-m...  Alain was quoting Adams.

You're right, Walter. That's what happens when I get in a hurry. It's an interesting point that Ansel said that. I don't think Ansel penetrated the illusions of reality with most of his photography. The only photograph of his I'd put into that category, even slightly, is a haunting picture of a woman behind a screen door. It was there several years ago in the Colorado Springs Fine Art Center during an Adams show -- hanging among the usual Adams pictures of what Wordsworth called "rocks and stones and trees," and the standard picture of Georgia O and friend. You'd walk around the corner of a display and there it was.

Ansel was a fabulous technician, but I wouldn't call him an artist. His own statement that "The negative is the score. The print is the performance," makes it pretty clear what he was after. He was very good at finding the right light, etc. for his landscapes, but landscape photography doesn't really penetrate the illusions of reality, it simply records them. Afraid I have to agree with Rob C.

[alainbriot]

This is a terrible predicament: I simply can´t accept St Ansel as artist; I can´t accept Sarah Moon as anything but.

Rob C

Rob,

Why is this a predicament?

[Rob C]

Rob,

Why is this a predicament?

Perhaps because I fear that St Ansel should be respected as artist but I think of him only as technician; because Sarah has been my favourite of favourites for her fashion and Pirelli work but has left me dazed and confused ever since her circus pictures.

In short, I worry that somewhere along the line I have begun to lose my sense of perspective on these people. But I still love her, particularly when I read her interview with Frank Horvat in his Horvatland site. At the risk of sounding false, I have to say that in that interview she expresses so much truth (or opinion that agrees with my experience) about the making of a photograph that I feel we could be the same soul. I just wish we had the same talent!

Rob C

[alainbriot]

Perhaps because I fear that St Ansel should be respected as artist but I think of him only as technician; because Sarah has been my favourite of favourites for her fashion and Pirelli work but has left me dazed and confused ever since her circus pictures.

In short, I worry that somewhere along the line I have begun to lose my sense of perspective on these people. But I still love her, particularly when I read her interview with Frank Horvat in his Horvatland site. At the risk of sounding false, I have to say that in that interview she expresses so much truth (or opinion that agrees with my experience) about the making of a photograph that I feel we could be the same soul. I just wish we had the same talent!

Rob C

I understand.  To me, what someone likes or dislikes in regards to art is so personal that I would not even consider trying to change someone's mind in that regard.  I don't think there's a right or a wrong.  Some like Picasso, others like Thomas Kinkade.  Others swear that Monet is it. Still others like none of these.  

The process of finding what art we like is comparable to the process we follow to create art.  It's all about who we are, what we want to express, what inspires us, what we went through, what we want to share with others, what we value and what we feel strongly about.

[Rob C]

I understand.  To me, what someone likes or dislikes in regards to art is so personal that I would not even consider trying to change someone's mind in that regard.  I don't think there's a right or a wrong.  Some like Picasso, others like Thomas Kinkade.  Others swear that Monet is it. Still others like none of these.  

The process of finding what art we like is comparable to the process we follow to create art.  It's all about who we are, what we want to express, what inspires us, what we went through, what we want to share with others, what we value and what we feel strongly about.

Exactly right, and broadly the reasons why I feel that photography, as with probably all the visual arts, is so personal that it becomes very lonely. I can´t stand the thought of another breathing down my neck as I work and fortunately for me, when I was still working for a living I was able, most of the time, to work on my own with just the model.

I read of how it is now; how many stylists, hair people, makeup people, digital technicians etc. etc. are de rigueur on a shoot. I really woudn´t be able to operate like that; my mind would just close up. It used to be so good when the model knew about makeup, could do her own hair and would always have a big bag of props with which you were probably as familiar as was she! (We used to use the same small group of girls because we liked them, because we could build up on a shooting relationship, and because, simply, no negative surprises helped us and our work look good.)

But that wasn´t art: that was commerce. Or was it? Is there, if you love photography that much, any difference? It is a thought that makes me wonder about the currently popular ethic of "personal" work that you can sometimes - generally? - see in professional photographers´ websites. What does it mean? Do they not feel passionately, personally, about their commissioned work?

Rob C

[alainbriot]

Exactly right, and broadly the reasons why I feel that photography, as with probably all the visual arts, is so personal that it becomes very lonely. I can´t stand the thought of another breathing down my neck as I work and fortunately for me, when I was still working for a living I was able, most of the time, to work on my own with just the model.

I read of how it is now; how many stylists, hair people, makeup people, digital technicians etc. etc. are de rigueur on a shoot. I really woudn´t be able to operate like that; my mind would just close up. It used to be so good when the model knew about makeup, could do her own hair and would always have a big bag of props with which you were probably as familiar as was she! (We used to use the same small group of girls because we liked them, because we could build up on a shooting relationship, and because, simply, no negative surprises helped us and our work look good.)

But that wasn´t art: that was commerce. Or was it? Is there, if you love photography that much, any difference? It is a thought that makes me wonder about the currently popular ethic of "personal" work that you can sometimes - generally? - see in professional photographers´ websites. What does it mean? Do they not feel passionately, personally, about their commissioned work?

Rob C

I agree.  I'm not into commercial photography, but last year I did 1 shoot in France for a commercial client (wine, what else could it be in france .  I was commissioned to take 3 photographs, which of course meant thousands of captures.  There was me, Natalie, the client, the art director, the location director, the driver, the scout and one other person whose purpose I forgot.  We had to have daily meetings at the hotel about how everything went (which was easy since we hardly ever left each other's presence) and we had to have meetings of the mind about how close (or not) we got to capturing the message we had to express in the photographs. I was paid well, and the food was good, so my wallet and my stomach were at peace but my creativity was stifled to a large extent.

[whawn]

...that wasn´t art: that was commerce. Or was it? Is there, if you love photography that much, any difference? It is a thought that makes me wonder about the currently popular ethic of "personal" work that you can sometimes - generally? - see in professional photographers´ websites. What does it mean? Do they not feel passionately, personally, about their commissioned work?

I had just this discussion yesterday with a gallery manager who complained that the gallery is 'so commercial.'  'Where's the purity?' of art, he asked.  My reply is that such purity does not exist.  (I have to mention here that he is managing the place for an artist, a sculptor who is both quite good and very commercial, and who puts his whole heart into each piece.)  We must all eat and we must all find shelter and comfort, and that requires economic activity.  Even the cave painters (whatever their motives might have been) could not create in an economic vacuum.  Our work must either sustain us, or we must sustain our work.  In neither case can be found 'purity.'  

Wyeth and Rockwell were 'just illustrators' back in the day, and are now celebrated (in some quarters, anyway) as artists of note.  Picasso painted some very ugly and awkward panels (I would submit his 'Seated Woman' 1918 to the jury, but I can't find an on-line copy); Mondarian is now, say some, boring and wall-papery, but still his stuff originated in the heart, as did Klee's and Pollock's.

The old masters, Rembrandt, for example, sometimes (often?) chafed at the restrictions of commissioned work, but still gave us both high craft and honest heart.  And, I think, those qualities define the lower boundaries of artish behavior.

Were the folk, who carved out the marble for Rome, artists or artisans?  And does it matter?  It was damned good work in some cases.  

Seems to me that the pursuit of perfection is the real work of an artist, and -- no matter how short any of us may fall of the goal -- that is the defining motive.  If you want what you make or do to be perfect, and when you strive to achieve that, you are an artist.  

Unfortunately, it is an effort doomed to failure, and that's why a lot of folks take up accountancy, instead.

[Rob C]

Unfortunately, it is an effort doomed to failure, and that's why a lot of folks take up accountancy, instead.

Which also allows them to decorate their cave more lavishly.

Rob C

[RSL]

I agree.  I'm not into commercial photography, but last year I did 1 shoot in France for a commercial client (wine, what else could it be in france .  I was commissioned to take 3 photographs, which of course meant thousands of captures.  There was me, Natalie, the client, the art director, the location director, the driver, the scout and one other person whose purpose I forgot.  We had to have daily meetings at the hotel about how everything went (which was easy since we hardly ever left each other's presence) and we had to have meetings of the mind about how close (or not) we got to capturing the message we had to express in the photographs. I was paid well, and the food was good, so my wallet and my stomach were at peace but my creativity was stifled to a large extent.

Alain, It's a good point. That's exactly why I stopped doing commercial photography back in the sixties. But on the other hand you were doing something you were equipped and trained to do and that wasn't all that far away from what you really wanted to do. Consider the plight of those who must do the equivalent of digging ditches so that they can live to produce their art. Then there's Elliott Erwitt who, not being the scion of a wealthy family as was Cartier-Bresson, had to do commercial photography for a living, but did what he called his "personal best" (in the book of that name) at the end of the day or in the interstices between assignments. Then, one day, there he was, doing a commercial job on kitchen appliances when in walked Kruschev and Nixon! What he got might not have been "fine art," but it wasn't a crashing bore either. To me, the most interesting part of that story is what Kruschev said when Nixon poked him in the chest. The news media bowdlerized the remark but Erwitt was fluent in Russian and translated the retort. I can't repeat it in a family forum like this one.

Fact is, it's possible to make a living doing grunt photography and still have time to do your "personal best."

[Rob C]

Fact is, it's possible to make a living doing grunt photography and still have time to do your "personal best."

But don´t neglect the fact that "grunt" photography also allows you to practice and practise your "art" at the same time that you are not doing it. There is no way that doing the non-heart stuff should be allowed to diminish your techniques for the other; rather, it should help, so perhaps they are not that separate.

Basically, I have a bit of a problem with the idea of the two being separate; in truth they may well be different genres, but they both employ cameras, computers and image control. You might prefer doing the one, but if you are having to do two different genres, then the assumption is that you are professional and thus obliged to do the less attractive for the money. But wouldn´t you be doing it to your best ability? And if so, isn´t that part and parcel of the challenge of photography? Doing your best?

I used to find the concept of personal work much more attractive as a young man; it didn´t really mean a lot, more a way of saying to whoever would listen that I felt slightly better than what I was actuall being paid to shoot... In short, a bit of an ego-trip - or even a face-saver? Who knows, but I do believe that a lot of these fancy ideals change with time, or at least, you view them with a little more ammusement or realism. Fact is, I´m still trying to discover what I might have thought my personal work was all about.

Rob C

[alainbriot]

Alain, It's a good point. That's exactly why I stopped doing commercial photography back in the sixties. But on the other hand you were doing something you were equipped and trained to do and that wasn't all that far away from what you really wanted to do. Consider the plight of those who must do the equivalent of digging ditches so that they can live to produce their art. Then there's Elliott Erwitt who, not being the scion of a wealthy family as was Cartier-Bresson, had to do commercial photography for a living, but did what he called his "personal best" (in the book of that name) at the end of the day or in the interstices between assignments. Then, one day, there he was, doing a commercial job on kitchen appliances when in walked Kruschev and Nixon! What he got might not have been "fine art," but it wasn't a crashing bore either. To me, the most interesting part of that story is what Kruschev said when Nixon poked him in the chest. The news media bowdlerized the remark but Erwitt was fluent in Russian and translated the retort. I can't repeat it in a family forum like this one.

Fact is, it's possible to make a living doing grunt photography and still have time to do your "personal best."

RSL,

I totally agree.  It's really a matter of goals.  If one has it as a goal to create a personal body of work, regardless of other variables, then it can happen even if the conditions are not ideal and even if one does not make a living from the personal work.  As you point out there are numerous photographers who did so.

I also think that being comfortable with commercial work is a matter of experience.  In my case, this was a brand new situation for me and while my skills at taking photographs and seeing images were there, I had to learn to work with a group of people instead of by myself.  I don't complain about this, I am simply pointing out the specific situation of the shoot.

[RSL]

But don´t neglect the fact that "grunt" photography also allows you to practice and practise your "art" at the same time that you are not doing it. There is no way that doing the non-heart stuff should be allowed to diminish your techniques for the other; rather, it should help, so perhaps they are not that separate.

Basically, I have a bit of a problem with the idea of the two being separate; in truth they may well be different genres, but they both employ cameras, computers and image control. You might prefer doing the one, but if you are having to do two different genres, then the assumption is that you are professional and thus obliged to do the less attractive for the money. But wouldn´t you be doing it to your best ability? And if so, isn´t that part and parcel of the challenge of photography? Doing your best?

I used to find the concept of personal work much more attractive as a young man; it didn´t really mean a lot, more a way of saying to whoever would listen that I felt slightly better than what I was actuall being paid to shoot... In short, a bit of an ego-trip - or even a face-saver? Who knows, but I do believe that a lot of these fancy ideals change with time, or at least, you view them with a little more ammusement or realism. Fact is, I´m still trying to discover what I might have thought my personal work was all about.

Rob C

Well, this isn't much fun. We can't seem to disagree. Fact is, I agree with everything you said, Rob. The two things aren't separate if you're doing photography for a living. I was able to give up commercial work because I had plenty of paying work outside photography. I gave it up after my last project (a truism), which was a coming-out ball for some debutants. I did the usual preliminaries and went to a rehearsal so I could be sure that I'd have everything I needed the night of the ball and so I could learn where the girls would stop and curtsy during their presentation, etc.. At the rehearsal there were about fifty women rushing around and every one of them was independently in charge. No one could give me a straight answer about anything. The night of the ball, all I could do was wing it. It all came out all right, and I made a nice chunk of change on the job, but that was the end of that. Weddings are pretty much the same kind of challenge, but on a lower level. I never liked those either.

Also, it seems to me that if you don't do whatever you're doing to the best of your ability the work becomes even more of a dead weight. I've seen that happen to people. Even the grunt work is important -- for your own sanity.

[Rob C]

Also, it seems to me that if you don't do whatever you're doing to the best of your ability the work becomes even more of a dead weight. I've seen that happen to people. Even the grunt work is important -- for your own sanity.

Yes, that´s how it worked for me. In my first year as an independent I did weddings, passports, anything that would turn a penny and pay the rent. In a relatively short time I realised that it was getting me nowhere. My original intention had been to do fashion; I decided that a quick death was going to be better than a long suicide and so I stopped all that, and put 100% effort into the fashion photoraphy, on the understanding that unless it worked out I´d get the hell out of the business and do hell knows what.

In the event, it more or less worked out like that, with a bit of advertising thrown in for good measure. Later, events changed the business again and  calendar production and photography became the mainstay.

But you do have to enjoy your photography.  If not, then why do it? Not for the money - there isn´t that much of it there for the normal guy. Better to do something that isn´t an "almost" sort of photographic career.

Ciao - Rob C