My Response to Mark Dubovoy

My Response to Mark Dubovoy

Over at Luminous-Landscape — one of my favorite websites for stuff photographic — Michael Reichmann posts the occasional article from Mark Dubovoy. I know Michael, but I've never met Mark. I have no doubt that he is an accomplished photographer and a nice guy, two qualifications I know Michael would require of anyone he allowed to grace the pages of his website.

However, Dubovoy's recent article, Everything Matters, is a perfect illustration of one of the schisms in photography that goes way, way back: the debate between equipment and artmaking. I respect Dubovoy's position, but I find it exactly 180-degrees out of phase with my own. Were I to title an article that represents my position, it would probably be Nothing Matters Except the Art.

With the hope of stimulating thought and furthering the discussion, let me comment on Dubovoy's conclusions which I'll reproduce here:

There are a few things that I hope you will always keep in mind after reading this article:

• Everything matters. It is all about the small details. Celebrate these details. They are what makes photography so exciting.
• Do not ignore details. Even the smallest ones can be crucial. The weakest link in a chain will always determine the ultimate quality of the entire chain.
• Do not rely on specifications, measurements or marketing claims. Trust only your eye/brain system.
• Search for the unseen. The first step in creating a great image is to show something heretofore unseen.
• It is not only the subject matter that contains the unseen. It can be a special angle, a special view, unusual lighting, a distinct vantage point, Hyper-Reality or something else.
• Prints and screen images from larger format captures always look better, regardless of the size of the print or the screen image.
• Avoid myths. This is why I busted the first one and will bust a few more in the second part of this essay.

• a.) It's not about the small details. In fact, pursuing the small details may make for a boring photograph, not too dissimilar to some of those long passages in Dickens where he describes the stone work on a bridge for 5 paragraphs while we all wait impatiently for the story to continue. Worrying too much about the small details places the artist in the precarious position of losing sight of the forest while they count the nubbins on the branches of the trees. To say that it's about the details is to say that the weave of the cloth on the Migrant Mother's blouse is more important than the expression on her face.
  b.) Details are not what makes photography so interesting. It's photography that makes photography so interesting; it's what is communicated that makes photography so interesting; it's its ability to transport us through time and space that makes photography so interesting; it's the way it connects your mind/heart to my mind/heart that makes photography so interesting. Ansel Adams (king of photographic craft) said it far better than I when he said, "There is nothing worse than a sharp photograph of a fuzzy concept."
• Don't pay any attention to the details if they distract you from the task of connecting to the heart of the matter. Because time and effort are the limiting commodities in the process, focus your energies on feeling and let your eyes and your camera take care of the details. Let go of the minutia and stay connected to your art. Besides, the camera will record far more than you will see — a self-evident statement that is proven every time you look at one of your images and discover a detail that you hadn't noticed at the moment of exposure. Yes, the weakest link in the chain will determine the quality, but you, dear photographer, are always the weakest link. You can tire, become distracted, have nothing to say, fail to plumb the depths, miss something crucial, think with fuzzy distortion, allow habits to control what you perceive: the camera just records, mechanically, robotically, with the dumb intelligence of a machine. If you really want to use a stronger chain, pay attention to that link that forges everything the art-making process: your heart and your mind.
• Trust the specifications the manufacturer states. If they claim there are 12 megapixels in your camera, you need not test to see if there are actually only 10 megapixels or if there might be 20 megapixels if you use the right post-processing magic bullet. There will be 12 megapixels, you can count on it. If that is what you need, plunge in and start making photographs. You will discover quickly enough if the equipment allows you to create what you envision. If not, change your equipment. If it satisfies, forget about it and make more photographs. The best criteria to judge will almost never be your eye or your brain, but rather your heart and your soul. Photographs that satisfy your eye/brain but fail to connect with your heart/soul will be best tossed in the round file for they have no future, no power, and no ability to speak or connect us with one another.
• I agree with Dubovoy here, but only if the "unseen" is understood to be something that is heretofore hidden by the veil of mystery or numbness. The role of the artist is to show us what we cannot see for ourselves — a statement that has absolutely nothing to do with optical resolution. The role of the artist is to see the unseeable, to say the unsayable, to know the unknowable. Theirs is a gift, both from the cosmos and to their audience. Artists are conduits, not human magnifying glasses. The first step is never to show, but always to know. In fact, that is the Achilles heel of photography: it is far too easy to show without knowing. The first step is never action, but passivity. The first step is never to expose, but rather to repose. The first step is to listen and learn, to absorb and feel, to let go and let in. Everything after this is just mechanics. It also explains why so much of photography is merely pictures, and why so little of it is art.
• a.) By definition, hyper-reality is a form of not being real. There is a place in photography for fantasy, I suppose, but stating the case for realism was precisely what the f/64 movement was all about. Those pioneers understood that observing and connecting to reality is a much higher thing than the fanciful and the unreal. As Shakespeare said, "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." The thing the camera does so eloquently is to connect us to the real in a way that no other art medium can. When a photograph is pushed to the hyper-real, it enters the realm of the cartoon, where the laws of physics and biology evaporate into a dream world of what can never be. Again, there is a place for this and such images can be interesting, but notice how cartoons are not about the details.
  b.) Angle, views, lighting, vantage points — these are all the stagecraft of photography. Craft should not be underestimated nor under-controlled, but it should also not be confused with the heart of the matter. One cannot see the unseen by changing angles, views, lighting, or vantage points alone. Yes, we may — and probably will — use these tools to create the photograph, but only employ these when they are the best tool to tame craft to the vision. The vision is the thing. As Minor White said, "We should photograph not only what it is, but what else it is." The else will not be revealed by a clever angle, but may be revealed by a clever angle. Now there is a Zen paradox that even Minor White would approve of.
• Large format captures will always look better? I cannot believe Dubovoy wrote this with a straight face. I suppose it depends on how one defines "looks better" — sort of like what the definition of "is" is. See point 2 above. This statement feels more like a premise or rationale, than a conclusion. Of course large format captures will always look better if your definition of looking better means things made by a large format capture. I'll move on because I'm getting dizzy just thinking about it.
• Avoiding myths is, I suppose, good advice providing one has the discernment to know when a statement is a myth and when it is wisdom. But, how are we to judge? Isn't it possible that Dubovoy's entire thesis is a myth based on the premise that more detail implies a better photograph? Isn't it possible that my entire thesis is a myth based on the premise that photography is (or can be) an art-making medium? This is precisely why genius cannot be taught and why art schools can only teach craft. We each are the arbiters of information and the victims of the myths we believe. The maxim "Seeing is believing" is exactly backwards. What we believe determines what we see; that is to say, our belief systems filter our perceptions. To take this concept — the belief that photographs are better when they have more detail — then the best cameras will be those that produce the most detail. Isn't this obvious? But, if you believe that photographs are better when they reveal feelings, emotions, moments or perhaps even thoughts and ideas, then the best cameras will be those that most successfully allow the photographer to liberate their mind from the photographic process and focus their attention on the emotional content of the art.

  Photography's history is a constant ping-pong of these competing myths. I'm not sure either is ultimately right or wrong, but they do offer choices about how we choose to relate to the craft and to our art making efforts.

Comments

[Rich Ruh]

I agree completely, Brooks.

[Dave Ciskowski]

Just got done basically agreeing at length in a comment on your post yesterday about George Barr's work. So... yes!

Technical quality definitely makes a difference, but it's not the most important factor in a successful image. The best I can say is that a superior technology will put fewer barriers in your way. Better still to understand the strengths of whatever technology you have, and work to take advantage of it.

[Scott Jones]

Man, Brooks, this was beautifully written. Thank you so much for this piece.

[John Acurso]

Hi Brooks,

I actually think you two may agree on the third point, that using a piece of equipment will tell you if it works for you or not. He just front loads it with the fact that great tech specs don't mean great results in practice, which I think we could all agree with.

There were a few good points in the that article but like most of these sorts of things, they are biased towards the person's own way of working. I also think many points were far from developed in a coherent way.

Anyway, I think a great image is a great image and we see those from various cameras and technologies. Most of us don't end up suggesting that those would be better if he or she had only used a (fill in the blank). They exist, and are great, because of what WAS used not what might have been used.

[Brooks Jensen]

Jim Bullard wrote me this email — and I respond below:

Subject: RE: Your response to Mark Dubovoy

Sorry for sending this as an email. For some reason your blog won't allow me to comment.

In a) You say "losing site of the forest..." That should be "sight." One of those small details, but I'm sure you did that to catch those of us who are detail oriented. ;-)

Actually I agree with both you and Mr. Dubovoy, most emphatically with your paragraph regarding myth. I have argued that same view many times with photographer friends. Where I think Mr. Dubovoy (I don't know him either) is right about attending to detail is in the craft end of photography.

Prints more so than in the digital age, the photograph is two things, a window to the photographer's intent and an object in itself. Your premise addresses the first while Mr. Dubovoy addresses the latter. While Ansel's remark is correct, the same can be said of the reverse. A sharp idea presented without skill of execution is equally fuzzy and fails to communicate. While I'm sure that your use of "site" when you meant "sight" does not bother you in a blog post (or me either for that matter), had you been writing poetry or what you intended to be a literary work, I'm sure you would be bothered by that detail. When making art, details count.

The essence (for me) of being a photographer is in trying to balance the inspiration/insight/creative aspect with the craft aspect in order to make the clearest statement. There is danger in coming down too hard on either side of this debate, although having subscribed to LENSWORK for many years and bought some of your prints I think you do protest too much that detail isn't important to you. Your work shows otherwise. Despite your words, I believe you have a very balanced approach to the window vs object aspects of photography. I don't know enough of Mr. Dubovoy's work to venture such a judgement.

Jim Bullard

Jim,
Site? What site? I can’t find it and you can’t prove that I didn’t correct it. ;-) Thanks for the heads up on that one.

I can’t argue with anything you state because I think you are right. I do care about detail — but to a point. I want my photographs to exhibit enough detail that they convey the message and I use every technical scrap of skill and knowledge I can to render that detail. On the other hand, I know that this does not guarantee an interesting image although it may ruin one if I fail the technological or mechanical challenge. Art is tricky in this because without an artifact, art is just thinking. Something has to make into molecules (even if those molecules are simply light diodes on some computer monitor on the opposite side of the planet) somewhere along the way or there isn’t any art. I guess, in retrospect, my reaction to Dubovoy’s comments were in his use of the term everything, followed by an advocacy that seemed to ignore feelings and emotions. The balanced truth is probably somewhere in the combination of these two myths where great passion and great craft meet in a crescendo.
Brooks

[Chris Raecker]

Craft is not Art. However, craft is necessary in the making of an art object. To the extent that an object successfully reflects an Art vision, then craft has served its sole purpose related to Art.

[Chuck Kimmerle]

Another well-reasoned and well-written article, Brooks. Nicely done.

[Jim Bullard]

I agree on the use of the word "everything". Our local TV weather cast has a weather question every night and they often catch people by including "always" or "never" in the question. "Everything" is in that same category. It's not a black & white world and art is greyer than most of the world.

[Redskiesatnight]

I thank you for this posting. I enjoy reading L-L, but I find Mr. Dubovoy's articles to be less about art and all about the technical aspects of pushing the optical resolution of the photographic process to the commercial limits; cost no object. Mr. Reichmann's articles, on the other hand, frequently use a variety of cameras from the iphone all the way up to MF.

I know that if I obsessed over such small details I would enjoy photography a whole lot less. As usual, it's all about balance, and Dubovoy's article was tipped all the way to one side.

[Kenneth Tanaka]

I largely agree with your nicely crafted rebuttal, Brooks.

Amateur photography has always harbored the notion that image "quality" is directly proportional to, and commensurate with, financial or time investment. Ah, if it were only true we'd see a "Flickr" stuffed with Meyerowitz, Abbott, Cartier-Bresson, Franks, Haas, Atget, Levitt, et.al. But alas 'tis not so easy.

The real details not to be overlooked are talent and vision.

[Brooks Jensen]

George,
You bring up a very interesting point that I've observed myself — and still wonder about. I'll invent a term for this comment so I can express myself: enlargement degradation, that is, what happens to degrade an image as we make larger and larger prints. With film, I always found the enlargement degradation to be graceful and gradual. At some point, the grain would simply get in the way and I'd lose the smoothness of gray textures. Sometimes flaws in focus would soften the image, gradually as I tried to enlarge too much. The enlargement degradation was incremental and proportional — graceful, like a whisper, the film saying, "Tut tut tut, you know better, Brooks."

Conversely, with digital images, the enlargement degradation is is cliff. I find I can make larger and larger prints that look good and smooth and focused until the next step suddenly just looks awful — pixelated, fuzzy, forced, blocky, blotchy, yuk. There's probably a term for this that folks are using, I'm just not aware of it. The point is — BAM! — what was a lovely image looks just terrible once I pass some threshold of something or other. It's as if something in the physics of printing just collapses and the entire image writhes in protest by shaking itself to bits and bytes. As long as I don't pass that threshold, I'm fine, but it is an impenetrable barrier beyond which there be dragons.

As I've increased the pixel count of my cameras, so has the print size I can make, so there is an obvious relationship. Regardless of camera, however, the cliff still exists, just at different enlargement factors. It is anything but a graceful enlargement degradation and very definitely a difference in which film is a clear advantage.

Does anyone else observe this besides me? Can anyone explain in lay terms I can understand?

Brooks

[jerry]

THANK YOU, Brooks! As always, the voice of reason!

[JP]

Mark Dubovoy's essay is just another brick in the wall (albeit a small one),  another  attempt to resuscitate color landscape's bankrupt photographic aesthetic. The aesthetic reached a high point with Eliot Porter's Intimate Landscapes and has since floundered by becoming: more and more presentational, less and less representational;  more and more clinical,  less and less intimate;  more and more indulgent,  less and less necessary.

Everything matters, but what may be surprising is how little is required. 

[Gary Nylander]

Well written response, Brooks, thanks very much.

[Nicos]

Very sound Thesis Brooksie

Of course, writers have words to communicate in whatever genre they desire and photographers have images. As you say, it is all about visual communication; shooting a concept/theme as strongly as possible to direct the viewer with your message.

A lot students often wonder and make the remark: " my image is better than the one exhibited at the gallery", and yet they fail to realize the lack of communication or message in their image.

its your best yet Brooksie

[Marco Maroccolo]

Hi Brooks,
this discussion reminds me of what I've read in a good book by Italian photographer Luigi Ghirri (1943-1992) "Lezioni di fotografia" [Quodlibet Compagnia Extra, 2010] ("Photography lessons").

The English translation is mine:

"You see many things. The fascination of the image is also in finding a balance between what you see and what should not be seen. It should not be a photocopy of reality. The problem is always the same. There is also an important current photography of research that makes this extreme definition and precision, that they see everything, absolutely everything in a homogeneous way, all well balanced, all well-graded, his poetry and his line of work . I prefer this continuous polling of what you see and what should not be seen. Show how in reality there is always an area of mystery, an area that is unfathomable to me and determines the interest of the photographic image. I do not like to see all this as a synonym for depth of vision. I think it's a mechanism of surface structures and the depth must be sought in other values​​. Other values ​​that are then also the problem of giving space to things."

[Ornello]

Exactly. I could not have said it better myself.

It is true that good work demands attention to detail, but the converse is far from true. Merely being fastidious is no guarantee of fine work.

All these people that he mentions (Adams, Sexton, et al) would be hopeless in any situation that demands quick, decisive, reflexive, instantaneous composition, the kind of work the Leica is best at. Why would anyone even bring up large-format technique on a Leica forum anyway?

I find Ansel-Adams worship deeply offensive and perverse. Anybody can make a good composition in 4.5 hours. When you can do it in the blink of an eye, then you're good!

I hate pretentious landscape photographers. Photography is about the fleeting moment.

I would love for one of these guys, with their tripods and slow composition, to confront a rugby match and come up with a near-perfect composition such as this:

http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5025/5...e364bff1_b.jpg

[Ornello]

The notion that the spontaneous or inadvertent has no part in great photography is a false one, one I find offensive, deceitful, mendacious, and repugnant.

http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5025/5580199653_17e364bff1_b.jpg

[Ornello]

Photography is not and cannot be 'art'; the attempt to imbue photography with the qualities of a painting or sculpture is simply mistaken, and leads to obsession with technique. I cannot express forcefully enough my opposition to this sort of thinking. The surfeit of 'landscape' photographic work, most of it utterly worthless, is a direct result of these misguided views.

[Ornello]

Believe it or not, though, as much as I disagree with Mark Dubovoy article, he is right on one thing: testing materials under actual working conditions. I have found that the ISO rating of B&W films is rather too high for optimum results with 35mm film.

But back to howls of derisive laughter.

Mr Dubovoy seems to be a caricature of the 'environmental' photographer. He's 'passionate' about his work (so what?). He even calls his site "The Passionate Lens". Is he joking? Does he really think that people respond to this malarkey? Perhaps the bourgeois types he hangs around with are impressed with this. I certainly am not.

Everyone, it seems, is 'passionate' except me. I'm dedicated. I don't give a damn if he's passionate. His feelings don't enter into it. Is my dentist 'passionate' about his work? Is my neurosurgeon 'passionate' about his? I don't really care. What I care about is whether they are dedicated to doing the best job they can.

Rather than quote at length, I simply offer this link to his web site. Perhaps many of you too will find yourselves rolling on the floor laughing your asses off.

http://www.dubovoyphoto.com/

[Ornello]

http://www.affenstunde.com/2011/02/passion-does-not-make-you-competent/