June 2009: Do your work
Dear Friends,
I was recently asked to be part of two separate panel discussions. The first panel related to the Portland Museum of Art Biennial (Maine) where I was lucky enough to have an image included in the show. (To say the jurors were selective is an understatement. They chose 27 works by seventeen artists out of almost one thousand applicants.) The discussion questions centered on our art and how we go about making it. When Mark Bessire, the museum director, introduced me he started by saying that “I was so conservative I was hip”. This was a first for me, to be considered either conservative or hip.
The second panel discussion was sponsored by the Center for Maine Contemporary Art (Rockport) in conjunction with a show of work by Peter Michelina, a friend who died recently. The topic of this panel discussion was the state of photography today. Again, I was the dinosaur on the panel. Towards the end of the discussion this question was asked: “Why do we still make photographs? With the public bombarded by images every day in ways we never before considered possible (cell phones CTV, email, web-based images, etc) over and above the traditional presentations of images, what could there possibly be left to say visually?”
For me both panels dealt with the same idea: “Why do I make the images in the way I do?” The answer I gave in both cases was the same: “I do it because it’s the way I understand the world”. It is what I do, arcane, conservative, what have you. My process of making images is important to me, as are the images I make and present.
I think an underlying idea behind the questions in both discussions is whether photography practiced as both an art and craft still makes sense today? I think it does. Just because most of the images we see today are made with little thought to either craft or artistry, doesn’t devalue those that are. Museums and galleries are still filled with all sorts of photographs and people flock to see them. In the Midcoast area alone, this month there are at least three shows where well made, thoughtful photographs are being displayed: Chris Pinchbeck has his large pinhole work at the Farnsworth Museum, On and Off the Midway (curated by Bruce Brown) at the CMCA and The Art of Seeing, Photographs by Peter Michelena at the Camden Library.
Let’s assume there are reasons for us to continuing to make photographs. How do we know if we are getting better at making them? My assumption is that if you are reading this you are in some way engaged in photography. It is an interest or passion for you. You do it because it makes sense for you to do so, whatever type of photography you pursue. This is the key. You do it because it’s important to you. It will always be more important to you than to anyone else. This is the only reason for making it. You don’t do it because it will make you rich or famous (although we might harbor that hope). You make photographs because by doing so the process makes you whole. You enjoy the process as well as the product. Whatever your process you have to enjoy doing it in order to continue making photographs. You also have to like the product of photographs or you wouldn’t continue to produce them. This doesn’t mean you are satisfied with what you are producing. Most of us want to make our images better, more readily accessible, more fulfilling. We want to make work that speaks to our experiences, that allows others to understand what we’re trying to say with our photographs.
Is your work saying what you want it to say? Is it interesting to anyone beside you? It is easy to get lost in the morass of self-doubt or trying to follow the lead of others whose work we admire or see getting into shows or rave reviews. Making photographs like theirs and not doing your work in your way is, I believe, making photographs for the wrong reasons and will only lead to unhappiness. Do your work the way you want to because it fills a need in you. It makes you happy. There is no other reason to do your work. Do it for yourself. Practice your craft. Be honest with yourself about why you are making images. Do your work. Hang it on your walls, don’t hide it under your bed. Do your work because it’s how you want to express yourself; in a way you want to do it. There is no reason to go to the effort of making photographs if you don’t enjoy both the way you are working and what you are producing. If you are not getting shows or sales or recognition, keep doing your work. Eventually the world will catch up to you. And if you have been doing your work you will be ready when it does.
At the Monday morning lectures at Maine Photography Workshops David Lyman used to tell people to make a wall where they could see their work in progress. It was great advice when I first heard it in 1981 and it is still good advice today. I would add to this that you judge your work on an annual basis, not on a daily basis. I find that sometimes my images are ahead of my thinking. By that I mean sometimes I will make an image, print it even though it is nothing like the current work I am doing, and keep it to look at. I am learning not to dismiss it because it is different or unfamiliar or uncomfortable. Sometimes the image is simply ahead of me. Once a year pick your best work of the year and see if it is growing from what you did the year before. Has it changed? Are you making the same image over and over? Are you trying to push your own limits and definitions? What about the unexpected images? The mistakes? The ones you like but have no idea why? Are they trying to lead you somewhere else? If so follow them. If they are just different, keep looking at them, they may have something to say.
My advice to you is this: Do your work. Do it with all the honesty you can. Listen to your inner voice. If you never get the recognition from the world you think you deserve, at least you have made honest work that made you happy. And isn’t that really what its all about?
Until next month,
Tillman