Are we ready to snap?
Almost. First, we have to decide where to go and what to photograph. At the start, this might not matter so much, but the decision can determine whether the photographic outing is pleasurable, boring or utterly off-putting. I offer three rules that can help to increase the likelihood of a pleasurable rather than boring outcome.1. Photograph lots of different things, especially things that you like: what gives you pleasure, what you believe to be important, what you are drawn to.
2. Learn some photographic techniques such as long exposure, panning, focus stacking or time-lapse video.
3. Do not judge your images. Do not let others judge your images.
Why?
The more techniques you learn, the better you will be able to make images look the way you want them to. This will make you more pleased and proud of your photography. The more pleased you are with the results, the more you will want to make more images. And the more you are sucked into the minutiae of the hobby, the more engrossed you will be, the longer you can spend without thinking about anything else. Some call this mindfulness. Others call it nerdiness. Hurrah for nerdy mindfulness!
Avoid all judgement for the first few years (ten is a good average; I waited thirty). You will only be disappointed. Don't listen to those who tell you that judges' criticisms helps you to "learn". Long ago, I took what I thought were "arty" photographs. Admittedly, I didn't really know what I was doing. One day I was asked, rather pointedly: "What is the point of all those photographs?" They had a point. I didn't know what the point was. So I put my camera away in a cupboard for a few years. Even today I won't go to my camera club on the days that judges come to offer their wisdom and judgemental judgements. (I do find that "judge" and "mental" work well together in the same word, never mind the same sentence!).
Especially avoid judging your own work. For a start, you are in no position to do so! Even experienced or professional photographers find it hard to judge their own work. But you probably don't even know what you are trying to achieve when snapping. So how can you make any sensible judgements?
The most important goal at the start is to recognise what sort of photographs you really like to take, for whatever reason. This is much harder than you think. For example, I thought I would love to photograph wildlife. But that turns out to be quite difficult and involves travel and huge amounts of patience! Well, that's not for me. Instead, over the last year, I have taken many hundreds of photographs of abandoned shopping trollies. How did that happen?For a start, I have taken tens of thousands of photographs. And I take photographs of any old nonsense that grabs me. Eventually, in the enormous pile of boring snaps, I recognise that certain subjects appeal to me. For instance, I have come to realise that I love images of empty benches. However, they do make me feel a bit sad. And that's a good thing.
Is it therapy? No, not quite. But it is getting close.I particularly like to photograph "lone" trees. It is something of a cliche. In fact, the great Roger Hicks and his wife used to mock the widespread love of the subject by amateur photographers. This so incensed me that I promised myself that one day I would have an exhibition of lone tree images. But only as I write this for the website have I noticed something truly revealing. Abandoned trollies, empty benches, lost gloves, lone trees, these are my favourite subjects. Oh, my God! Until this moment I had not realised how much I am drawn to loss and loneliness in my photographic images.
Therapeutic or therapy?
If I were to talk to a therapist about feelings of abandonment based on my photographs of gloves, that would be therapy. As it happens, that won't happen. No therapists will be involved in our activities. But even while my photography remains a therapeutic excercise and not actual therapy, it could be a start.Several photographers suffering from mental ill health have said that showing their photographs was the precursor to speaking about their mental health. Some have said that talking about their images and conversing with other photographers about their meaning essentially became a starting point of their therapy.
Talking about our images
I have no secret and cunning plan to cause participants to slide seamlessly from therapeutic photography into therapy. If it helps you, all well and good. But my desire to hear what others have to say about photographs stems from a belief that good images mean something.At one extreme, judges will talk about dry compositional conventions: leading lines, colour palettes, rules of thirds, etcetera. But there is little conversation about the image itself. At the other extreme, artists will talk about conceptual intentions (which makes even less sense to my ears). And talk predominates; looking at the image is almost superfluous. In any case, artistic meaning has effectively preceeded the image, leaving little else to be discovered by looking at the photograph.
My plan is for participants in our therapeutic photography outings to say a few words about a handful of chosen images (their own and those of others). And I don't mean words like "nice" or "beautiful" or "well-composed" or "great light" or "fabulous pose" (positive and encouraging as these are). For instance, my glove in the sunset (at Largs) could be criticised as out of focus by judges (they might suggest cropping a bit off the left so both the glove and the sun with its reflection would be almost perfectly on "thirds"). Oh, let's not forget that the horizon doesn't appear to be straight either. A conceptual artist might claim to be exploring the intangible, etheral yet still personal connections between individuals in a modern world: the unknown finder of the glove attempts to return the lost item to its owner (whoever that is) by placing it on a railing, making it more visible.
Four things strike me about the shape of the glove: the thumb and forefinger seem to produce a silhouette of a happy dog; the ring finger and pinkie form a silhouette of a crocodile snout (yes, it could be an alligator too); the whole silhouette of the fingers produces a shape that is not one that seems possible for a human hand; the middle finger has especial prominence. The silhouetted animal heads mean little to me; the immediate and involuntary perception of them as shadow puppets. The slightly bowed middle finger, however, is central, both physically and metaphysically. It appears to be the neck and head, the two digits on either side are spread out arms or wings. The glove is assuredly looking towards the setting sun, perhaps in supplication. (From other photographs of this brown leather glove, I can conclusively say that it is left-handed and that the palm is therefore facing the sea and we are looking at the back of the hand.) The slight bowing of the middle finger suggests heaviness or saddness or submission. I don't see the glove enjoying the final rays of the sunset. I see the glove praying to the celestial power to have its owner return at first light to find it. A lost glove has to know that time is of the essence if it is to be reunited with its human. The passing of a single day is probably enough to condemn it to the elements, decay and disposal. And, again, I see misery and pain in my images.... But I am intrigued by the sun's reflection. It stops at a point in the sea from which waves appear to radiate, almost as if rays from the sun have been fired into the water, causing it to ripple. Does this add anything intelligible to my interpretation of the image? It does give me the impression that the sun is actively trying to interact with the glove. Perhaps it has acknowledged the prayer? Is the sun promising that she, the woman, will return tomorrow and collect him, the glove? Yes, that is what I believe.
Okay, that's probably more than we will expect from participants, who might prefer to stick with "lonely", "subdued", "melancholic", "imploring", "serene", "resigned" or "load of old bollocks". But perhaps after hearing my words, the thoughts and suggestions from others might start me looking at the image differently. Perhaps the glove's middle finger is seen by others as scarcely bowed at all. An erect middle finger is a sign of defiance, even aggression. Is the glove stoic, has it accepted its fate? Is it waving? Starting a conversation is helpful on so many levels. Helpful, hell, it is even good for mental health!