This photo makes me feel like Miles Davis in a world of kazoos.
I love photography — heck, I've given my life to photography. But somehow, this trend where phones have become a tool proposed for serious photography just bothers me. No, this is not a replay of the introduction of 35mm cameras into a world dominated by larger formats. No, this is not an old guy bemoaning the introduction of new technologies — I'm as cutting edge as the next geek.
What bothers me about all of this is the casualness it introduces into the craft. Apps promise that a phone and Facebook page will make you the next Ansel Adams. With a phone and a flair for citizen journalism, you could be the next Cartier-Bresson. But will the newest batch of crayons make me Monet? If I buy Air Jordans will I sink three-pointers like Michael Jordan? They want me to think so, but it's absurd to believe it.
The underlying premise is that it is supposedly the equipment/software will bridge the gap between your innocence and the mastery of, well, the Masters. This is Madison Avenue advertising selling lipstick with the claim that it will make any woman the next incarnation of Marilyn Monroe. It is entirely image over substance — and art is desperately in need more substance, not more gimmicks, hyperbole, and false promises.