The Case for Photographic Art By Jack Dekempe
The mechanical process of photography and its newfound accessibility through cell phones and digital cameras has made it simple for virtually anyone to take a picture. It has enabled photography to be an art form that does not require effort or much thought. No talent or aesthetic vision is required, just a device that can take pictures. With this onslaught of photography that continues to proliferate, it is pertinent to ask whether all of it can be thought of as ‘art’. Not just art but aesthetically successful art. As the steps required to take a photograph have gradually decreased, so have the assumed intentions of the artist. We can no longer assume that there is a concrete reason why a person chose to take a photograph because of the simplicity required. With the chasm between a snapshot and a photograph widening, narrowing our perception of a successful photograph has become germane. More caution is warranted when aesthetically judging a photograph, and the concept of a successful photograph ought to be reformed as a whole. In this essay, I will argue that photography which aims to convey a subjective, aesthetic vision, is the only true form of photographic art.
Our criteria to aesthetically judge photography must evolve to preserve photography as an art form. Berys Gaut’s essay, The Cluster Concept, constructs a set of criteria that can be used to judge a work as art. He delineates ten properties that count towards a work being considered art. There are two that I will argue are necessary for a photograph to be qualified as art: (1) “possessing positive aesthetic qualities” and (2) “being the product of an intention to make a work of art.” With this claim, photos that are used with the primary intent of information, such as journalistic photography, would fall out of the scope of photographic art. This would also include snapshots and any photograph that is not taken with the primary goal of beauty or aesthetic merit. To continue with this argument, a distinction must be made between aesthetic and artistic properties. Some will argue that a journalistic photograph may be beautiful and, in turn, art. However, this misconception infers that any aesthetic quality amounts to art. Thus, a hybrid of intuition and testimony must be incorporated when we label a photo as art.
Take Frank and Sandra, who recently visited Mt. Everest and took a disposable camera with them to document the experience. Frank has never been one to take many photographs, but he’s climbing Mt. Everest, so naturally, he wants to document the experience. On the other hand, Sandra has been taking photos for years and has had some photographs published here and there. They develop the pictures; half are Sandra’s, and the other half are Frank’s. Which set of photos would you expect to be more artistically successful? The logical answer is Sandra’s. Not just because she has a proven track record but also because you assume she communicates an aesthetic style. Let’s say, though, Frank’s photographs turned out to be beautiful. He intended to document the ascent up the mountain without much care for how they turned out aesthetically. Although the pictures have aesthetic qualities, he is not adding to the transparency of the photograph with a unique aesthetic style. Barring circumstantial luck, it is unlikely Frank’s photos will amount to photographic art.
The distinction between a pretty snapshot and an artistic photograph is often visceral, in so far and we must learn to distinguish between the two. Take Henri Cartier-Bresson’s renowned photograph, Seville. While the photograph is a ‘journalistic’ photograph, its surrealism draws you to admire the piece. The primary instinct does not compel you to think about the event itself since the aesthetic qualities serve as a foreground for the actual subjects. In his monograph, The Decisive Moment, Cartier-Bresson writes, “To me, photography is the simultaneous recognition, in a fraction of a second, of the significance of an event as well as of a precise organization of forms which gave that event its proper expression.” While he may disagree, the organization of forms is the foreground for the event's significance in a photograph. It is the first step in our interpretation of it, followed by the event itself. If it were the case that the photograph served a journalistic function more so than an artistic one, there would not be a narrative about the photograph.
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Seville by Henri Cartier-Bresson
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On a journalistic level, the conversation of the photograph would spotlight the actual subjects in lieu of the aesthetic merits. For instance, the New York Times cover photograph on September 11, 2001. This is an example, however extreme, of looking through a transparent photograph without first navigating the artistic foreground. You take the subjects as they are and interpret the information that that specific moment in time gives you. Your immediate reaction is to the event and not the photograph itself, as it functions as a transparent window without distortions or nuances.
An additional element to consider is the creation of meaning in photography. To a certain extent, every photograph is a descriptive and narrational reflection of reality. But if they were solely descriptions and narratives, would they have the ability to affect emotional responses or make you feel something? No, not the photograph itself, at least. Photographs have to transcend the objective realm to be appreciated as art. Photographer Olga Karlovac’s works are acclaimed for their unique way of capturing motion and blur. They’re generally distorted and dark and could be interpreted as a beautiful mistake by the untrained eye. If you’re familiar with her works, you understand everything is intentional. Her prolonged shutter speeds capture distorted images representing her subjective reality and her aesthetic vision.
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002 by Olga Karlovac
Conversely, courtroom evidence that takes reality as it is would not qualify similarly. Although an audience can perceive them as beautiful, they would not fall under the umbrella of photographic art. There is nothing innately subversive or nuanced about it, as it has to stay in an informational lane. Informational photography has its virtues, but it has to be as close as can be to objective reality. It should remain unfiltered by the photographer. Otherwise, it would lose its credibility in showing reality as it is. Artistic photography represents a subjective reality that intersects with the cameras' objective, mechanical nature. As photography will invariably be transparent to something that exists, the subversions are in themselves what qualifies them as art. There must be some degree of translucency when capturing objective reality. Without it, all we are offered is a non-representational snapshot with a lack of subjective and artistic merit. There is nothing inherently artistic about the world, and only we can make it so, and a photograph that doesn’t project that aesthetic vision cannot be considered art. Herein lies the stark contrast between photographic art and mere aesthetic traits in a photo.
Roy H. Quan’s Photography and the Creation of Meaning (1979) presents three modes of photographic inquiry: the anthropological, the normative, and the intuitive accounts. The first two accounts are examples of photography's impact on a non-artistic level. Photography can show us the past and may contain sentimental references that a few people could relate to. It can offer a glimpse into historical moments with subjects that must have existed, unlike any other art form. The intuitive account that Quan delineates, though, is the only one that has the capacity to be considered art. The intuitive account “focuses attention on the photographer's unique insights into his or her world of feeling. In this sense, the viewer understands intuitive photography as having "opaque" qualities, explicitly guided by the beliefs and biases of the photographer” (8). While I would argue that these qualities are translucent rather than opaque, since a photograph will invariably portray something that exists and you still see through it, the account offers a view along the lines of what has been mentioned so far. With the translucency that can be formed through a photograph, meaning comes with it. The narrative structure of the photograph is accompanied by an aesthetic vision that offers the viewer a derivative of what actually is. The intentionality required to make a photograph of this nature is discernible and instinctive to a viewer. You become aware of a new reality through the translucency and espy meaning from it. This creation of meaning is in itself a qualification for photographic art.
Preserving photography as an art form is inextricably tied up with a photographer's aesthetic vision and the meaning it creates. As an audience, the judgment of photography is subject to the degree of translucency and beauty. A photograph’s composition and form depend on the photographer's intention as it undergoes a series of decisions prioritizing a given purpose. Whether the purpose is an anthropological, normative, or intuitive account, the reception of photography must conform differently to each one and form beliefs accordingly.
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References
1. Gaut, Berys. Gaut Art as a Cluster Concept. 2015.
2. “Seville: Henri Cartier-Bresson.” Metmuseum.org, 2020, www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/283312.
3. Blumenthal, Ralph. “A Time Capsule in Two Front Pages.” The New York Times, 10 Sept. 2021, www.nytimes.com/2021/09/10/insider/front-page-on-9-11.html.
4. Karlovac, Olga. “Home.” Www.olga-Karlovac-Photography.com, www.olga-karlovac-photography.com/site/. 5. Quan, Roy H. “Photography and the Creation of Meaning.” Art Education, vol. 32, no. 2, 1979, pp. 4–9. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/3192343. Accessed 31 Oct. 2023.
