I’m not in mourning, don’t have any questions about my identity, and I’m not suffering. I don’t have mom issues or dad issues, and not because they are no longer with us; I just never had those issues because I had decent parents. Not perfect by any stretch, but good enough to push me in the right direction. I do not find pointing the camera at myself to be particularly interesting. I’m fortunate, lucky, privileged, even. My entire photographic life has been spent photographing others while attempting to tell their story. My story, while impossible to totally separate from the work, isn’t what’s most important. I am in no hurry, and I understand just how rare exceptional work is. It is, after all, exceptional. I have perhaps only found this level once or twice in my entire career. There are no shortcuts via analogue techniques, artist statements, or art speak. How I look and dress should not be part of why or why not my work finds footing. I don’t study trends, and I don’t copy what I’ve seen done before. I don’t promote before I’m ready.
I’m at a crossroads that is, frankly, as close to photographic depression as I’ve ever encountered.
I love photography, but not a day goes by that it doesn’t feel like it is becoming more and more diminished via navel-gazing nonsense, lack of commitment, and untrained, unstudied “photographers” looking for things they don’t yet deserve. I can’t help but wonder: who is teaching these people? Or should I ask, who isn’t? We now have generations who downplay education, downplay training, and boy, does it show in the slop I see being presented as finished works. Lack of context, lack of historical knowledge, lack of industry knowledge, and no understanding of what separates great from average.
I honestly don’t know how to fix this, or even if the masses know enough to realize it needs fixing. The photography masses seem content to eat fast food, play with their iPhone, and watch a little Netflix. (This was my attempt at a metaphor.) My problem is I know too much. I’ve been trained. I was told no. I was told my work wasn’t good enough. I started projects I knew no one wanted. I had a few successes and a myriad of failures.
The images in this post are from the Tijuana/San Diego area in 1997. I was five years out of school and five years into my photojournalism career. I’d gotten my degree, my first internship, my first published essays, my first editorial spreads, my first gallery show, and had completed my first two international trips as a working photographer, and I still had no idea what I was doing. I KNEW I didn’t know. I had the situational awareness to know I didn’t know shit. I was getting better, but I still wasn’t good. It would be another two years before I made images that might stand the test of time.
All it took was one quick look around my world to know the pecking order. To see the hierarchy of those who came before. The more skilled, more accomplished, and more complete. I not only needed to know about them, but I also wanted to. How could I move ahead without knowing? But now it seems like no one wants to know for fear of realizing they might not be original or nearly as good as their unknowing audience has told them. No one admits anything. Just plug coins into the slot machine of facade.
What suffers is photography itself. Diminished. The untrained putting themselves above history and industry in a visual land grab. Anything to get ahead. The artist the focus. What’s behind the lens instead of what’s in front. I’m telling you this because I SEE SO MUCH. More than you. I can guarantee it. I see and hear from all corners of the globe, from all levels. Visual climate change: everyone with their head in the sand.
What is my identity? An average dude who occasionally presses a button on a light-tight box. That’s it. For the vast majority of us, this should be nothing more than a hobby. If you haven’t put the work in, why are you asking for so much? I spent ten years shooting daily before I figured a few things out. Ten years. And I’m not referring to content. That dribble is soulless, and so are most of the people making it. (Harsh, I know, but I’ve been watching this for fifteen years.) Content is a different world, and ultimately not worth investigating.
When I see the exceptional, it feels like an electric shock. I feel rage, jealousy, envy, admiration, and awe, all wrapped into one. I am a photographer, after all. But this feeling is rare, and these days it’s almost nonexistent; yet I still see the false praise of the phony brave. I’m not ready to give up, but I have felt moments of despair. Moments of thinking, “I need to get away from this business and never look back.” And then something profound happens. A body of work crosses my path, and all is right with the world. A complete package. All cylinders humming. At these moments, I close my eyes. I take the world in, and I appreciate. The Gods are still with us, somewhere out there in the growing darkness.
PS: The images on the right wall are Eric Labastida’s images from Tijuana, a place he worked for over a decade, and the images on the left, hanging from the string, are my images from “Muslim in America,” a project I worked on for over four years before pulling the plug.
Comments 8
Dude! Not to be harsh but this is serious business… what everybody else is doing is not your business. Not your concern. Not worthy of any of your angst. Why did you pick up a camera in the first place? Remember that; connect with that. Do a mind map around that. Dig deep in your own psyche about whatever magic you’ve seen in your own work and in other work you admire but this is more powerful if you examine your own stuff (what you might see as exceptional art/photography I call magic – that’s just my weird thing). Start a project that nobody wants but that you want. What do you want to see in the world? Make photographs that answer than question.
Or not.
You can stay miserable if you want to. But man, you are alive. That you are alive. That you are you. That’s a fucking miracle. A beautiful conglomeration of everything that had to happen to put you on this Earth, right now. (Which reminds me of a powerful question, “why me, here, now?”) Yeah, there is a whole lot of shit in the world. I don’t understand it or get it or want it any more than you do. But I also see a whole lot of beautiful. A whole lot of work that people are out there in the world doing because that’s what turns them on. What they must do. It connects them to their aliveness. I invite you to reconnect with yours.
Author
There is only one problem with this. It IS my business. When I said you can’t know what I’m doing, well, it’s engaging with the industry side of this business on an hour-by-hour, daily basis. I’m writing grant proposals, judging contests, helping others with their industry needs, and consulting on book designs and deals. I’m watching the decline in real time. And this also greatly impacts companies like Blurb, as well as every other company connected to photography. Look at the great layoffs of the last decade. I’m always doing my own thing, much of which remains out of public view. Also remember, I committed to this thirty-eight years ago, and I saw what we had and what we have now. Believe me, this conversation is front and center behind the scenes of every major organization in photography. The consumer side doesn’t know and might not care, but anyone connected to the profession has this reality front and center.
This was a great read. I suspect mediocre work was everywhere, even in the late 90’s. But mediocre work is different from meaningless work. Mediocre work is usually still an attempt at some form of purpose. Meaningless work is degrading to our culture precisely because it makes no pretense toward purpose, but only fleeting attention measured in “engagement.”
Author
Great point. I still see the occasional five-star project. Still, mostly it’s overly promoted, mediocre, aimed at an unknowing audience, and meaningless content pursued by creators and brands who lack original ideas. It’s fast food, but Americans eat fast food, on average, 20 times per month.
What I heard here, Dan, was passion. Passion, love, commitment, devotion, dedication. These are what sustain and carry us to the other side of despair. We know it in ourselves, we recognize it in others. Keep on keeping on!
Author
The despair was temporary. I’ve got a million things in the works, so all is well.
Listen Dan, i understand your point so much! When I startet as photojournalist at a small weekly in Spain mid 90‘s i had no clue. I just wanted to change the world through my picture a little bit. That‘s all I hoped for. No internet nonsens or the so called influencers around, only very nice photographers. And I can tell you, I learned a lot of them! Now thirty years later I am still in business, everyday shooting photojournalism, politics, economics an so on. All digital, every day, month, year. On demand, now, right away, and every one want‘s a lot of pictures. For the online galleries, click bait you know. But do I care? It‘s my f…. job to produce, I call them Throw away, pictures.
And of course ,everyone‘s a photographer today and of course the coolest one with the newest Leica or Sony or Canon or Nikon……. and so on.
Next week the newest is old and , of course there‘s always something better and newer to come….
But, big BUT, I don‘t care anymore, I dont‘ give a sh…… I am not on Insta, Facebook and so on anymore. F…. them. I do my job still seriously of course, but now at the moment I pack my other little bag with my beaten M4 and M4-P full of Tri-X and next week I am of to Perpignan. One week Visa pour‘limage and afterwards one week Valencia in Spain. I am looking forward meeting interesting people, seeing great work ( hopefully!) and getting my head free. So TRY to leave the others around. Go sit down and look through your fantastic work, even if it is only for YOURSELF! Man, I am here in Europe,Germany I dont know you personaly. BUT when I browes through your work in your blog, I can say I love your pictures! YOU give me inspiration! Keep your head up, meet with Eric, drink some beer together and be proud of your work. You deserve it!
With lots of love, y un abrazo muy fuerte
Leif
Author
You sound like the old me! I went to Perp for at least a decade. Great times, great fun. All is well with me. I have many things going on, some of which are good!