14The Medium Is Not the Message
We are confronted today with a dichotomy; as our equipment and materials constantly grow in scope and quality, the creative and technical standards appear to be diminishing; there is a near-cult of photographers who seem to intentionally avoid the beautiful and precise image, concentrating only on subject and obvious function. My personal reaction to this attitude is a determination to go as far in the opposite direction as possible. I believe in the most beautiful and appropriate prints, and the most clarifying and revealing approach of mind, heart, and craft. I believe that firm objectives in this direction can fulfill the promise of photography as one of the great visual arts. However, we must always be logical in our critical estimates; most of photography is not intended as art and should not be judged as such.
—Ansel Adams
We may never agree on a definition of art, but we can still have meaningful discussions about it. In this sense, art is one of a distinguished set of concepts, along with such things as consciousness, time, and existence. Art is, however, unique among such polysemous notions in that it refers wholly to things of human conception. We invented something even we cannot define—a human-made mystery.
On several occasions I tried to define for myself what art meant to me, and I failed. More accurately, words failed. Yet, I intuitively knew that art exists. I knew it when I found it, when I was moved by it, when it affected my mood, my outlook, even my life. To hell with words, I know what art means. I chose the path of an artist because my encounters with art changed me in profound ways, and I could think of no better way to engage with the world than as an artist.
When I first picked up a camera, like most photographers, creating art was not on my mind. In that sense, photography as a means for art is handicapped. Most who set out to be painters, sculptors, or musicians generally do so with the explicit desire to become artists. Not so for photographers. Many photographers are moved toward art after exhausting whatever recreational and social values they may find in the medium, and feel themselves in need of further growth and greater challenges. Therefore, many photographers arrive at art’s door lacking a foundation and an attitude that other aspiring artists often have from the outset. The waters become muddier still as photographers often self-apply the label of art for reasons such as prestige and marketing, but without a true understanding of what it means to be an artist. The practice of photography as art, therefore, demands that artistic photographs distinguish themselves as such, lest they are doomed to be judged and sentenced by criteria having little to do with their artistic merits.
How can we distinguish our work as art when we can’t articulate clearly the qualities of art? The answer is in the question. Rather, the answer is in knowing that this is the wrong question to ask. Art is not distinguished by any objective qualities of its products; it is distinguished by the minds of its creators. Art can only be defined as the product of artists—of human beings possessing creativity and skill, and a desire to express artistically something of themselves. As I experience art, no measurable quality will elevate in my mind a work whose creator has nothing meaningful to express, or who lacks the skill to express subjective meanings.
Artists find ways of expressing themselves by whatever means and skills are available to them. By coincidence, the camera was the medium most readily available to me when I realized that I wanted—needed—to become an artist. So, I happen to be a photographer. This in itself means nothing. Art to me is not about the production of things; it’s about the expression of things.
Lacking any other distinction, a painting is not inherently better art than a symphony; and a sculpture is not necessarily more artistic than a photograph or a building or a woodcarving. Miles Davis is what makes Kind of Blue better art than the majority of paintings; Vincent van Gogh is what makes Starry Night better art than most songs; and Dorothea Lange is what makes Migrant Mother better art than most sculptures.
Pick your medium by whatever criteria you wish. But if art is your goal, be an artist first. Don’t just create things, express things in your creations. Just as important, have something worth expressing.
For all the banter about equipment and technique, in any medium, I consider true artists those who speak not only about their art, but also through their art.