Yesterday, in the comments, a reader wrote: "One important rule I learned early on: Everything has been photographed. Every thing. There is nothing new to photograph. Be it sunsets or waterfalls or people standing in front of red phone booths."
That's one way to look at it. And it might be true of standard subjects, whether you call them conventional subjects or clichés or whatever. But in another way of looking at it, it's obviously very much not true.
I heard a wonderful lecture long ago by an early proponent of Eastern religions in the West, Alan Watts (his 1957 book The Way of Zen was one of the earliest books about Buddhism to affect the youth movement of the 1960s in America. It's still in print). He made the point that the physical world is a river, always changing, and that nothing is permanent...only changing at a greater or slower rate.
To say there is nothing new to photograph is true, in a way. But it's just as true to say that every photograph is new. To see how it's so requires letting go of the idea of permanence (classicism, or Plato's ideal "forms," or Jung's archetypes) and surrendering to the specificity of photographs. Digital imaging is less instructive in this sense because it's an illustration medium as well as a photographic one—that is, it's more easily modified to conform to the ideal form or archetype, or to ideas. But the difference is merely relative.
The more deeply you are willing to see something, the more singular it becomes. The pursuit of the pictorial and picturesque is the pursuit of the generic...we want a picture of a sunlit field to not be a specific sunlit field at a specific time, but to stand in for all sunlit fields and indeed the very idea of sunlit fields. But it's really not; really it's one specific place at one specific time in one specific set of conditions. Photographed by one person who will have a defined lifetime on earth (a window of existence, you might say) with a particular set of equipment and materials that have distinct properties. Bernd and Hilla Becher made a career out of exploring the interstice between buildings as both embodiments of a type of structure and as specific individual realizations of that type. In every deliberate cliché there exists that tension.
In the 1840s it was commonplace to photograph some things just a bit too late. Photographs are still a means of holding on to precious or
wonderful things that no longer exist.
You don't have to look very far to know that almost nothing has been photographed. If you have a two-year-old child, your child has not been photographed at age four or seven or twelve. Before the first cellphone, nobody ever took a photograph like Martin Parr's that I posted here yesterday. And why go on photographing fashion? Haven't there been enough fashion photographs already? Because fashion changes, of course, and tastes change, and people do new things. You haven't taken a picture of the day after tomorrow yet. At this moment, June 6th, 2015, has never been photographed by anyone! Imagine.
Why go on photographing fashion? Haven't there been
enough fashion photographs already?
Looked at the other way around, you can see the value in thinking this way. In 1920, three out of every four cars on the road in the United States were Ford Model T's. So here's your assignment: go photograph a row of them parked on a city street like Walker Evans once did. Or go make a new portrait of Mary Ellen Mark. That building that was torn down last month was never photographed adequately; go do it now.
To say everything has been photographed is to say, in a sense, that life has already been lived, that time is used up, that the world never changes or the changes are paltry. That nothing is new, or news. That nothing significant can happen in the future because significant things have already happened in the past.
As the Wright brothers made their first flight in 1903, was there an amateur photographer somewhere saying that everything had already been photographed and all possible pictures had already been made? Photo courtesy U.S. Navy.
In any case, we have our own lives. We have a limited number of days left on Earth, and almost none of us know what the number is. Will you not look forward to living fully and richly in those days because you already have lived many days in the past? Every day is new. Everything is always changing. Something can always happen. You'll go on seeing, and surely some of the things you see will please or delight you. The astonishment of the visual world never ends.
So take heart. Most of the great photographs have yet to be made; only a few have been made so far. We can look at it this way too.
Mike
Original contents copyright 2015 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.
(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.)
Featured Comments from:
Duncan Simey: "The current generation of digital cameras with their crazy low-light abilities are creating photographic opportunities that were not previously possible. I think these count as new images.
"The obvious example is night-time landscapes that include the Milky Way as a dominant part of the image; these are now common place and we are used to seeing them, but when they started appearing a few years ago I was completely blown away.
"I've accidentally landed in my own little niche. I decided to take images of the local caves in support of a long-term project I'm working on, but found there is almost nothing available about how to get the best from a modern digital camera in these challenging conditions. I'm now six months into the project and have been evolving my technique; the images I had in mind are finally starting to come through. A combination of ending up with a non-standard technique and having relatively few images to compare my results against is resulting in new views of relatively well-known caves.
"With hindsight, my cave photography project was a crazy idea and I'd probably have never started if I had understood the challenges; the lack of cave photographers is completely understandable.
"Advances in equipment is opening up potential for finding new subjects and creating radically different images from existing subjects. I'm looking forward to what the future offers!"
Andrew Molitor: "While it's true that each photograph is different, I think this is kind of facile.
"Virtually all photographic archetypes have been shot multiple times, sometimes millions of times. If you're going to simply shoot the same archetype again, well, that's fine with me but you're not making anything particularly interesting except in one case that I can think of.
"So there are, really, a handful of things you can try out:
- simply reshoot the archetype in a not particularly new way. Lots of people do this and take great satisfaction in it. It is not mandatory that one's fettucini alfredo break new culinary ground to be satisfying, after all.
- Find something inherently interesting/new to put in to your archetypal shot
- Invent a new archetype (extremely hard in this era)
- Step beyond the archetypal photo
"The easiest way to do the second one is to shoot people. Lord knows the headshot with the requisite Main/Fill/Hair/Background light combo has been done a few times. But people are inherently interesting, to us, as people. 10 identical portraits of 10 different people strikes us as 10 different photos, instantly, without any effort at looking deeply.
"There's probably other ways to do it, but they don't pop to my mind.
"The fourth one is where the meat is, to my mind. Create not iconic photos but bodies of work. Each photo is probably going to be "yeah, that's kind of like that thing" and "oh, that one is just a cliche" but the entire body of work taken as a whole can step beyond that and make something substantial and new.
"I've said it in the past and no doubt will say it again: Sure, every photo has been shot. But not every photo has been placed beside every other photo."
Rodolofo Canet: "Just two weeks ago I spent two days in Segovia, one of the most visited cities in Spain for the sake of its huge and very well-conserved Roman aquaduct. Every single stone, building or nook of the city has been probably photographed many times, some millions, so I didn't even want to take my camera out of its bag.
"But, you know? At the end my photographer's soul imposed on my reason and I couldn't help taking some pictures. Many were very similar to muy friends', some nearly identical but what the deuce...I enjoyed a lot! Isn't that what a passion is about?
"Let this picture be an example of uniqueness within homogeneity (three friends shot the same place with the same shadowplay, but with very different results):
"Even if everything has been photographed, has everyone seen all photos? Great post, Mike."
Mike replies: But I bet not everybody gets the guy with the stripes on his sleeves. Nice touch.
PiotrB: "Another excellent article. I think that maybe people worry too much abut clichés and stuff like that? I suspect that having the "everything has been photographed" mindset can actually be damaging one's creativity. One might end up chasing ghosts in pursuit of "uniqueness" only to miss the important things. Also, I find it interesting how photography made me much more aware of the changes in the world I live in. I've made quite a few photographs that are now much more important to me than they were at the time of creation. Why? Because they show the world as it no longer exist. Nobody can replicate them now, because the stuff depicted is no more.
"I now don't care about clichés, tired subjects or uniqueness. I just try my best to capture the scene as best I can, because I now know that it's not as permanent as you'd think. But I have it easy. I'm not in the business of doing photography for a living, so I don't have to conform to anyone's wishes or tastes. I do not seek recognition as well. I don't have to care. Doing photography for your own satisfaction is nice :-)"
Gordon Lewis: "In Zen philosophy, the mindset you describe is called 'beginner's mind'—the ability to see something as if for the first time. A jaded mind tends to produce photographs that reflect that mindset: commonplace and boring. A mind that sees the world as full of wonders will produce [better] photographs...."
Dillan K responds to Gordon: "The Buddhist observation you've identified here was one of the primary reasons I picked up a camera in the first place. Buddhism opened my eyes, and my camera was to slow me down and help me see. Every moment is precious and will never return again. Of course, I didn't truly understand that until I had a child, but that is another story. Thank you for the reminder of a basic truth in my life. It makes everything more beautiful when one understands it."
Like I always say.... Be the water, not the wave!
Posted by: jim woodard | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 12:21 PM
"Everything has already been photographed."
That's what I say to myself when I'm uninspired.
Posted by: Manuel | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 12:24 PM
That "sound barrier" illustration is very apropos for me. Hanging in front of me is a much older (probably taken on film) poster photo of an older aircraft breaking the sound barrier. Between air conditions at the time, film qualities, the differences in quality from film bodies to digital, lighting... the two images are very different. There's stuff to like about each image.
If you don't like airplanes as a subject, chances are neither one will appeal.
Posted by: Torrilin | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 12:25 PM
- They are all the same.
- They're all the same, but each one is different from every other one.
---
Smoke (2/12) Movie CLIP - Auggie's Photo Album
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGV_h36uZ5E
Posted by: dragos b | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 12:32 PM
I have two observations. I live near the Atlantic Ocean in Ponte Vedra Beach, FL. At least three days a week i walk three to four miles on the beach. Even people who live here ask me why I always bring a camera. "After all it's the same stretch of sand, every day." Well, it isn't. Every time I go out the wind and water has rearranged the beach in myriad ways. So yes, I have photographed Ponte Vedra Beach and no, it hasn't been photographed.
The other observation is just a quote from Garry Winogrand that sums up why I photograph. It goes something like "I have a burning desire to see what things look like photographed by me."
Posted by: James Weekes | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 12:35 PM
If you were not able for some reason to photograph that sunlit field today and so went back tomorrow, you would not, could not, take the same picture. Something will have changed, in the lighting or in the view.
Even if absolutely nothing had changed, you could not take the photo you could have today, because tomorrow you will be in a different frame of mind.
You can take pictures of the same subject day after day, and each photo will be different. Even if you made them to a standard pattern, there will be differences.
Posted by: Roger Bradbury | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 12:55 PM
Yes, so true. And so well said. Thanks.
Posted by: Dave Levingston | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 01:24 PM
While it is fine to generalize that everything has been photographed, what applies to all art in all forms is that we have overharvested the low hanging fruit. There are no more easy things left, one will have to be both creative, and resourceful as time passes. Or, in the case of photography, lucky. A lot of great photos are the result of being in the right place at the right time.While one photographer may have searched for some time for a line of model T's, another may have just been walking, saw the cars and shot.
Posted by: Bill Pearce | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 01:27 PM
Agreed.
Other observations on this topic:
Many subjects have not become cliches. Look around.
Remember a few of the photo books by photographers whose work speaks to you. Likely many of their photographs are not cliche at all. And the others are usually taken deeply enough, to Mike's point in the other article.
Posted by: Lubo | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 01:39 PM
Excellent post Mike. Coincidentally, I was just eyeing my copy of Alan Watts book and pondering re-reading it. Thanks for the motivation.
P.S. Actually I have already photographed June 6th, 7th and 8th, 2015 but can t show them yet....it was an enlightening experience.
Posted by: Mark Kinsman | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 02:02 PM
I have two ways of looking this potentially discouraging thought. One is that I photograph stuff that's specific, and from that point of view, hasn't been photographed before. Much as you argued above. It's today and tomorrow, here and now, my family, my town. Generally similar to stuff that's been done, but specifically unique. The other is that even if it has been done before (like Kodak picture spots in Yellowstone), it's never been done by me. And even if it's been done better by 1,000 other people before me and 1,000 more after me, their photos still aren't mine. Mine will remind me of my trip better than theirs will. If I ever get around to going on a safari, I guarantee you my photo of a lion will be far better than anything Andy Biggs has ever taken - not to your eyes, but to mine, because every time I look at it, I'd think "holy cr*p ... I actually SAW that lion !" I guess those are two types of photos - photos that I take as personal memories (the latter) versus photos that I take because I love photography (the former).
Posted by: Dennis | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 02:16 PM
I think the answer to this question is yes, but that is not the same as saying every picture that is worth making has been made. And, part of that value judgement is that you took the picture instead of someone else.
I spent some time a few years ago dabbling in astrophotography until it got to be a bit too much of a time and computer sink (I'll get back to it when I don't have to program computers for a living anymore)... this is the definition of an area where almost everything you can capture has already been captured by someone else and they probably also did a better job.
And yet it's still worth doing, because it matters that you happened to capture the photons in your particular camera on your particular night. And not just because that night you might actually catch something new (one night I caught a supernova in a distant galaxy, but did not notice it until I read about it on the Internet). It's still worth doing just because you did it.
The only thing is, you have know how to be realistic and not show the picture to others unless it's actually good.
Here's a shot I like a lot, even though it's pretty bland. All those galaxies.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/79904144@N00/8747454371/in/album-72157630154101860/
Posted by: psu | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 02:26 PM
You can't photograph the same river twice.
However, if you're sufficiently thoughtless, you can produce endless essentially equivalent pictures of that river.
Posted by: David Dyer-Bennet | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 02:44 PM
In Zen philosophy, the mindset you describe is called "beginner's mind"--the ability to see something as if for the first time. A jaded mind tends to produce photographs that reflect that mindset: commonplace and boring. A mind that sees the world as full of wonders will produce photographs like Kate Kirkwood's. (Not exactly the same of course, but reflecting a similar sensibility.)
Posted by: Gordon Lewis | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 03:06 PM
MJ,
It was probably photographed before.
But I have not photographed it. Its new
to me. And if I'v done it before I might
photograph it again but it will be somehow
different.
Jb
Posted by: Joe | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 05:25 PM
How timely! I disagree based on a post from a friend of mine who works for Zeiss. He's just installed a 3D x-ray diffraction microscope at a client and posted some photos on facebook.
Things that are far away from our eye: either the microscopic that we can't see or just far away from our planet -- that's what we haven't photographed.
Pak
Posted by: Pak-Ming Wan | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 05:37 PM
I'm taking an online class in portraiture. Each week, we look at the work of a famous expert, which leaves me feeling jealous about the people they get to photograph. I'll never get to photograph, say, Christopher Walken.
While I know lots of people with faces as interesting as Christopher Walken's, a portrait of someone I know personally doesn't have the wide appeal of a portrait of someone famous. (Not that I wish to compete with expertly made photographs of Christopher Walken!)
Rather than feel jealous, I think I'll just celebrate the opportunity to photograph people who are important to me and accept that those portraits are for me.
Posted by: Kurt Shoens | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 06:32 PM
I agree with your point, that we have a blank slate.
I'm now already ending my 3rd year of college. I've been snapping and photographing things of this environment as much as I can. My long term project.
Thanks to this, I can see the evolution of the environment; Which is very relevant socially.
People which were strangers have become close friends, others have parted, and through the series of photos I can see the evolution of things.
Many of these people have candids or have become another element of the composition in my shots. I'm sure that they don't have such shots.
I can tell that it isn't a priority shared by my fellow 20-somethings. They aren't documenting their daily life, or not as I am.
What I'm photographing hasn't been photographed before!
Sometimes I stare into a snapshot and how it just materialized. I've had numerous planned images on my mind that never became, yet others appeared as circumstances settled in front of me.
A friend of mine told me to just let things flow and live the present, move as circumstance arise. More or less it tends to happen and it leads to interesting places (photographically, mentally or physically).
This series of articles since last week are very interesting, pity about my exams that don't let me do more than a quick read!
Posted by: Jordi Pujol | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 06:55 PM
You are probably right in stating that everything has been photographed, but not everything has been photographed by ME! Until that time comes, I'll keep on a-shootin".
Posted by: Larry Mart | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 07:41 PM
"More unique"? Gah! Where has our Mike gone?
Anyway, other than that I loved the post :) To quote Lou Reed, "The possibilities are endless..."
Posted by: Ben | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 10:12 PM
A wonderfully delightful perspective! Thanks, Mike.
Posted by: Merle | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 10:13 PM
I discussed this subject with friends some time ago and I said jokingly that to be original you have to go extreme or go for shock now. It is not enough to just photograph a beautiful nude. You have to stick a burning candle in someone's rear first. Surely one minute later we found several examples of just that; at least one was from a quite famous photographer.
Posted by: Oleg Shpak | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 10:58 PM
The universe is said to be unfathomly big. So big that it would take light 13 billion years to get across it (and by the time light made it across, the universe would be bigger still). 13 billion is 13 x 10^9. A light year is approximately 6 x 10^12 miles. So that makes the universe around 8*10^22 miles across. 4.2 x 10^26 feet. 5 x 10^27 inches.
A measly 1024x768 web image at 8 bits RGB allows for
2^18874368 or around 8×10^5681750 possible image variations. If you were to print them and stack them, the stack would stretch from one end of the universe to the other 2x10^5,681,721 times (figuring 100 sheets to the inch).
Even in the likely event that I've messed up the math, I think there's plenty left to photograph. Even if only 1 out of every 10^5,681,721 possible photos is a potential keeper, that still leaves you a stack that traverses the universe. Twice.
Posted by: Dennis | Thursday, 04 June 2015 at 11:57 PM
Looked at the other way around, you can see the value in thinking this way. [...] That building that was torn down last month was never photographed adequately; go do it now.
What drove this point home for me was when a footpath was closed off shortly after I made one of personal my favorite photos there:
https://www.flickr.com/photos/kevinschoenmakersnl/11601583125/in/album-72157638043102353/
Posted by: Kevin Schoenmakers | Friday, 05 June 2015 at 12:22 AM
One of the nice things about photographing the urban environment at night, which is my primary focus, is that even if my subject has been photographed to death, it likely hasn't been photographed to death at night. Simply swapping am for pm can do wonders for a photographer seeking a new take on an old subject.
In fact, I'll wager that a lot of my photographs may well be the first photos of these areas to have been taken at night. That doesn't make them any good, of course, but it does go a long way toward refuting the notion that familiarity breeds contempt.
Posted by: JG | Friday, 05 June 2015 at 01:01 AM
Meh, probably.....but not everything has been photogrammetrically scanned. But the facade from the Xantener catherdral has been scanned. 450 photo's are stitched together into a single 3D pointcloud and mesh containing about 6 million little triangles, fascinating stuf, and I didn't even use my drone (legal reasons). Now it's being turned into a full textured 3D model by a college of mine.
BTW new Ikea furniture will luckily be spared the indignity of being photographed....most photo's in their catalog (in fact 75% in the 2015 run) are allready 100% CGI.....and you could not tell the difference right!
http://area.autodesk.com/fakeorfoto
Greets, Ed.
Posted by: Ed | Friday, 05 June 2015 at 01:53 AM
I'm not too worried about everything having been photographed. For the most part, I don't think photographs are as much about the thing in front of the camera as they are about the person behind the camera and his/her way of seeing.
Posted by: G Dan Mitchell | Friday, 05 June 2015 at 10:54 AM
Has Everything Already Been Photographed?
Wrong question. A less discouraging and far more productive question: What can I photograph today that I will not be able to photograph tomorrow".
Posted by: Ken Tanaka | Friday, 05 June 2015 at 02:02 PM
I think this whole thing is predicated on the modernist idea that originality is the highest value. I don't think anyone was looking over Michelangelo's shoulder and thinking, "Putti are so over done." There is form and there is content. Tomorrow is June 6th, 2015... no one has EVER taken a picture of it. Try to see it with fresh eyes.
Posted by: Alex | Friday, 05 June 2015 at 04:27 PM
Cliché only matters if you have someone to impress. If you're lucky enough to photograph only for your own pleasure, then who cares? I enjoy looking at good photography, but I barely have enough time to take and work with my own photos. How am I going to have time to find all of the already taken pictures to know if I've done something new or not?
Posted by: Shawn R | Friday, 05 June 2015 at 09:08 PM
Amen, everyone - tomorrow has never been seen, today will never exist again. Besides, what do I care? I shoot because I wanna. My kids, my wife, my life - all worth 15k+ photos a year just to record what is wonderful and beautiful.
There are many pictures, but this one is mine:)
You have fantastic readers, Mike - the community response to posts like this bring truth to the early 80's Omni magazine articles of the new worlds and communities 'cyberspace' was going to give us. Less punk, sure, but more rewarding in many ways than we could have imagined.
Posted by: Rob L. | Friday, 05 June 2015 at 09:22 PM
Love Alan Watts, but you really should Google Heraclitus.
Somebody probably should write a book about Zen and the Art of Photography. But then, everything's already been written.
As it happens, I probably live within a metaphorical stone's throw of James Weekes, above, here in Ponte Vedra Beach. I don't walk the beach as much as he does, but I walk my dog, Bodhi, every day, always with a camera. It's always the same, it's always different.
Apropos of perhaps nothing, here's this: http://www.zenguide.com/zenmedia/index.cfm?id=303
Posted by: Dave Rogers | Friday, 05 June 2015 at 10:54 PM
Honored that you were able to use an isolated, out of context sentence of my comment to expand upon. I don't disagree with anything you wrote in your response; as is true with such statements that can be made on such topics (and I do reiterate that this was a lesson I, and I alone, had learned and not posited as a universal truth - ymmv), the opposite is just as valid. That doesn't alter a bit of what my entire comment had to say - for me (sorry if that's overly obvious, but it seems necessary given what happened last time).
Posted by: Ernest Zarate | Sunday, 07 June 2015 at 03:31 AM
One of my favorite books is on drawing, and I don't draw. I picked it up at a library book sale and shave since bought every book by the author and drove the 12 hour round trip to his garden in Warwick NY. I have also gifted many copies of his book, "The zen of seeing" "seeing drawing" it very much relates to what we do with cameras. Frederick Franck, a world humanitarian and humble artist and author. His garden is Pacem in Terris. http://www.frederickfranck.org
Posted by: dale | Sunday, 07 June 2015 at 10:15 AM