["Open Mike," the editorial page of TOP, normally appears on Sundays. Sometimes, like today, it's a day late. We'd fire the guy responsible, but our hands are tied by the labor market—there's nobody else here. —The Managing Editor]
Like signs, advice points. That doesn't mean you have to go there.
Friday's post, "It Can Be Anything But It's Got to Be Something," drew a large number of thoughtful comments, and a fair amount of dissent.
But really, we need to stay mindful of how advice works (it's really how insight works, as well):
You take it if you need it. Use it if it helps.
There's actually nothing prescriptive about advice. It just always looks prescriptive.
The advice offered in that post was to coolly appraise your strengths and weaknesses and concentrate on your strengths. For the sake of argument, let's say that 7% of the people who read that post will find it thought-provoking, and it will sow a seed. Of that 7%, a smaller percentage will be galvanized by it—one person might realize that she's been chomping at the bit to devote herself to, say, botanical photography, yet still spends a lot of time doing standard nature 'n' landscape without being terribly gratified by it, sort of with the desultory unexamined notion that, well, she ought to. She uses the post to happily say goodbye to her weak-dishwater nature 'n' landscape stuff and concentrate on botany, and her interest and enthusiasm are supercharged, and suddenly she can't wait to get out in nature to document, say, various stages of blight on local American Chestnuts.
Or, another photographer realizes that he's been oppressed by standard notions of genre, and realizes that many of his favorite pictures are color-field photographs of a variety of sorts, regardless of subject—so he tosses aside the previously oppressive idea that he ought to be the documentarian of family picnics, and starts to think inventively of all sorts of creative ways to find and use washes of colors that interrelate in near-abstract ways.
Et cetera.
In the comments to that post, Wesley Liebenberg-Walker wrote,
Man, is this ever some timely advice! I have started to gain some traction (limited, but welcome to an aspiring photog). What I am finding now is that, when I look at my "portfolio," I don't feel any sense of pride in my work. I like a lot of it, but don't see any true cohesion in the work as a body.
Next job on the list—a serious sit and think about what my "style/look" will be.
Thanks, Mike—thought-provoking, as always.
That, you see, is plenty for me. I don't demand or expect that everybody will respond the way Wesley did. But it really makes me happy that I said something that was useful to him.
The 5% rule
The way I think of it is that the more people who enjoy a particular post the better, but I don't mind if some posts prove to be helpful, or of interest, just for a few. If I can imagine one out of twenty readers getting something important or intriguing from one of my longer posts, that's fine with me.
There's a slight problem, though. The arbitrary idea that 7% of you got something out of that post leaves 93% of readers remaining. That group might include the 14% who will skip the post because it looks turgid and overlong; the 23% who have already dealt with this issue and have decided they'll shoot any old thing that catches their fancy and they like it that way; the 9% who think my ideas are flat wrong and find that the post makes them want to argue with me; and so on*.
But you see, that's okay. It's just not the advice they need, is all. Not all advice is for everybody. Implicit in any advice is never "we must all do this" much less "anyone who doesn't do it this way is wrong"; rather, what's implicit is, "hey, some people might find it useful to think of this in this particular way."
That quality—of using what you need and discarding what you don't—is true of insight as well. I'm sure everybody has had the experience of coming across a tidbit of insight that turned out to be incredibly important to them personally and seems to have arisen at just the absolutely best possible time. But an essential part of the equation when that happens is that you've got to be ready for it. It wasn't accidental. It might even have been an insight that you encountered before, but glossed over or walked right past the first eight times you encountered it. For the arrow of insight to hit home, it needs to be what you need to hear at the right juncture in your own life.
Whether advice or insight is useful to you changes as you change, too. The exact same advice that a 20-year-old finds life-changing might leave a 60-year-old heaving a sigh; the advice that slides off the 20-year-old like rain off a windshield might stop a 40-year-old in her tracks and change the course of her life.
This is even true of art. Our tastes change and evolve. A book or movie or painting that seemed incredibly rich and gratifying and brilliant to you when you're 12 might look obvious and surfacey and puerile thirty years later. (That doesn't mean you can't respect "where you were" then, of course. I always look back on things that were once important to me, but aren't any more, with affection.)
Seeds can grow, too. I discovered jazz in my 40s, and went on an extended jazz kick that lasted well over a decade. But I'd been introduced to jazz by my brother Scott when I was in my 30s, and it just had never "taken." Something about it just sounded wrong. I couldn't get into it. But Scott laid the groundwork for my later epiphany with that music. Now, I can't reconstruct how Charles Mingus's Mingus Ah Um once sounded strange and spiky to me; it sounds as rich, warm and gratifying to me now as Led Zeppelin IV
sounds to a classic rock fan. Bebop and hard bop of the period from approximately 1955–1959 is still the core of all music for me—I was born in the middle of that period—more so even than the rock and pop I grew up with.
'Opposing'
Another interesting feature of advice is that it can be just as useful to you if you consider it, engage with it, and decide to do the opposite!
Author and critic Richard Schickel. Photo by Sarah Rivera.
This is an interesting feature of criticism too. There was a movie critic who had an extremely long and successful career at Time magazine (1965–2010) whose name is Richard Schickel (he's now 82). His opinions were usually very useful to me because I usually disagreed with him, and his opinions often provoked me. I engaged with his writing and his opinions, but in the negative. He helped form my outlook, at least on movies. I still have a lot of affection and appreciation for his work.
So what if someone reads my piece, goes on an extended period of grappling with the ideas, and concludes in the end that he'd still like to shoot anything he sees than catches his eye? Or who determines that she has a real gift for still life but enjoys candids more and decides to turn her back on still life? Well, the advice in that case was still very helpful, wasn't it, if grappling with the idea helps you make a conscious, positive choice?
I think it was Ezra Pound (probably in the indispensable ABC of Reading, which every artist should read, preferably when young) who said that a work of art you hate can be just as important to you and to your growth as a work of art you love. It too can serve as an important clue to your direction.
Up to you
What all this says is, if advice doesn't fit you, that's perfectly okay. Just don't take it, then. All advice is optional. Take what you need, leave the rest. It just depends on how it strikes you. It's always up to you.
That's how it works. No: more: that's how it's supposed to work.
Mike
(Thanks to everyone who commented on 'It Can Be Anything...')
*I'm just fantasizing here, of course—I have no idea how many people respond in what way to what they read. Even the comments are just a very vague indication, because most readers don't comment.
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:
Chris Norris: "The advice you gave hit home for me and served to solidify that which I've discovered in the past few years: I am good at and enjoy a very narrow range of photography (landscapes, particularly hyperlocal urban ones). Abandoning photography that didn't fit that bill has made it overall more enjoyable and has really honed my skill in the area I like. Plus it helps me graciously decline a lot of suggested pursuits and events. 'Oh, I don't really shoot that kind of thing anymore.'"
G. Dan Mitchell: "Re 'Another interesting feature of advice is that it can be just as useful to you if you consider it, engage with it, and decide to do the opposite!' I like that notion. I use it when teaching certain music classes and trying to explain the impact of serialism (exotic topic—suffice it to say it was/is a big deal) on 20th century and later music. I point out that two of the ways it had in impact were: 1. Some folks adopted it as their primary working method, and lot of great work was created. 2. Some folks thought it was the worst thing they'd ever heard of and they did everything to avoid it, thus creating a lot of great work."
When you get married you get lots of un-solicited advice about what to do. After going through the process I thought of the perfect answer:
"Thank you for that thought. We meet at [local place] at 7:00 AM on Saturday to discuss wedding related ideas. Please come and share your idea with the team."
Posted by: KeithB | Monday, 02 November 2015 at 10:51 AM
I'm glad you realize that an (intelligent) opposing comment just means that someone has read and thought about the issue. Sadly, some writers take such comments personally, and even sadder that sometimes trolls respond (which can be unintentionally amusing). Keep up the good work.
Posted by: Richard Newman | Monday, 02 November 2015 at 11:19 AM
Far enough. In your past post, I almost linked to Mark Cuban's advice, which is, "Don't follow your passion, follow your effort." I think this is similar to the point you were making.
http://blogmaverick.com/2012/03/18/dont-follow-your-passion-follow-your-effort/
I can't find a link to another bit of advice, which I believe also came from Cuban. The advice: when looking for something to do, don't look for something you love, look for something that ticks you off. Something that to you is just obviously wrong, stupid and broken. You may be the best qualified and motivated person to fix it, and to have success doing so.
Posted by: Bruce Mc | Monday, 02 November 2015 at 11:34 AM
To quote Wesley Liebenberg-Walker: though provoking (sic) and thought provoking indeed.
Thank you Mr. Johnston
Posted by: Michael Martin-Morgan | Monday, 02 November 2015 at 11:38 AM
In the other post, I mentioned that this whole issue really bothers me, especially as it affects other people that I know and like. (Usually young people.) It seems to me that it always boils down to one thing: you have to choose. It almost makes no difference what you choose, as long as you do. You can't let anything simply drive you, especially when it comes to an art form. YOU have to drive IT. Instead of putting your camera in the car and driving around aimlessly, hoping for the best, you have to choose what to do (driving aimlessly isn't a choice.) If you do that, even if things don't get better, they certainly get more interesting. And ultimately, in all your varied daily activities, you have to choose a longer-term strategy: how do you want your life to work. What do you want to do? That's even more complicated, but is perhaps made less so if you try to cooly (as you put it) assess your interests, and your strengths and weaknesses, and figure out what you CAN do. If you're 45 years old with no musical talent, deciding to be a rock star probably isn't a cool decision. (Although, I admit, it could be interesting. Might even make a book -- but you'd have to decide in advance that you're really a writer, not really a rock star.)
It's all very complicated, but IMHO, choosing is the critical action.
Posted by: John Camp | Monday, 02 November 2015 at 11:48 AM
Mike, in my case I'm afraid you're preaching to a converted. After an initial all-encompassing enthusiasm for photography, shooting virtually everything I saw, I've been gradually dropping lots of themes and concentrating on only a few. I remember finding it awkward to answer the question 'what's your favourite subject?' without a long speech which nobody had any interest in hearing. (The fact that this question is so often asked is actually quite telling, if we think about it: you're really supposed to have made a choice.) For instance, I found my strengths to lie in composition and exploring lines, so I try to make that work for the benefit of my photographs. (Whether I'm successful at it or not is something I prefer to leave for others to assess.)
What you should have stated more emphatically is that self-assessing one's own strenghts and weaknesses and concentrate on the former is instrumental in finding a language of his or her own. If we span our efforts over a large number of subjects and techniques, or shoot regardless as if there were no tomorrow, we'll never develop it. Being a dilletante can be nice, of course, but dilletanti seldom achieve greatness. If one's serious about photography, chances are he (or she) will go through some kind of selection process which will allow them to concentrate on their strengths. That's how they'll find a language of their own, a form of expression that's unique to them. Some find it for themselves, others need advice. The latter should spare your writings a thought or two.
Your advice would have been nicely complemented by this one: people shouldn't take too many pictures. Digital photography brought the habit of making a plethora of shots of a single subject, but I find there's nothing to learn from that. It's much better to have one satisfactory picture of a subject than having a memory card filled with mediocre ones.
Posted by: Manuel | Monday, 02 November 2015 at 12:41 PM
An off-topic reply, but - I love the top picture of the truck cheese advert.
Anthony
Posted by: Anthony Shaughnessy | Monday, 02 November 2015 at 12:57 PM
Thanks, Mike, for this elaborate essay. Actually for me your advice came at the right time to corroborate my yet wayward decision to stick to an explorative style that I unintentionally developed in the past two years or so and dismiss other more canonical styles and subjects that folks around me do like more but are less satifying for me. Makes for less applause but more of an inner journey.
Posted by: Markus | Monday, 02 November 2015 at 12:59 PM
EEK! "... to happily say ..."
Has one of the last stalwarts of intact infinitives on the web given in?
Personally, although they jump out at me, and stop the flow of my reading, I'm not sure there aren't times when split infinitives read more felicitously, and occasionally struggle with them when writing.
Here, though, "... to say happily ..." reads no worse, and doesn't grate on some sensibilities. \;~)>
Posted by: Moose | Monday, 02 November 2015 at 01:29 PM
I agree with essentially all you have said in this post.
And yet, "There's actually nothing prescriptive about advice. It just always looks that way." is so true that perhaps making the implicit explicit might be useful?
" what's implicit is, "hey, some people might find it useful to think of this in this particular way."
That might help those who are too easily swayed by "authority" from being pulled away from a nascent movement in the direction of their more true calling of this time in their life by taking too seriously advice that's not for them.
Posted by: Moose | Monday, 02 November 2015 at 01:41 PM
When practicing as an engineer I went on a lot of training courses, typically a couple of days up to a week. I soon realised that if I picked up just one idea from a course it was worth the money. If that idea came up the first day I didn't switch off, of course, because there might be a bonus second idea. But I never tried to absorb most of what was said.
Posted by: Gerry Winterbourne | Monday, 02 November 2015 at 02:03 PM
I think one of the problems with advice is that it is more of the same when it comes from someone working in the same field.
I had a personal transformation two months ago and it has radically altered my photography. But nowhere do I read that being kind to the self will improve your work in the world of photography.
Closer to home, I read Eric Kandel's extraordinary book on neuroscience and painting, Age of Insight, and it has given me a tremendous insight. Here is my review of the book
http://johnslaytor.com/the-age-of-insight-the-quest-to-understand-the-unconscious-in-art-mind-by-eric-kandel/
So in this new photographic world where you don't really need technical assistance, maybe other worlds should be your first port of call when you want to change your photography?
Posted by: John Slaytor | Monday, 02 November 2015 at 03:14 PM
VLRT = Very Long, Read Thrice
Stimulated a lot of discussion between my wife and me.
At 73, I'm not interested in "where do you want to be 10 years from now." If I'm both healthy and lucky enough, I'll still be reading TOP and VSL.
BUT ... but ... from the point of view of someone who aspires to "more" than snapshots at family parties, (where the constant question is, "Mike, What do you DO with all the pictures you take?"), this topic makes me just take stock a little bit. Do I have a consistent thread in my more "serious" stuff? It's a good question to ask from time to time. (Btw, I do. But who cares, except me?)
So, Mike, I appreciated your initial post, I read and appreciated both Ctein's and Kenneth Tanaka's response, I found useful nuggets in all of it.
Thanks.
Posted by: MikeR | Monday, 02 November 2015 at 03:48 PM
FWIW, I liked your original article. A lot. And it got me thinking even several minutes after I had left my computer.
You see, in the beginning I was into portraiture. Plus fashion / model shoots. I liked things like the H&M catalogue (see http://www.hm.com/us/) a lot, thinking that this is where the pros are shooting, and the way to go.
But now, after several years - and yes, I've done my share of that - it's all same old, same old. Don't wanna shoot like everyone else, that's just plain boring.
And while I've also tried land- and city scapes, even astro imaging (hard to do, it's a numbers game of extreme precision), I come back to portraiture, but 'purified' in a sense. I want to see and show people, not breathing clothes stands. And while a super model has its charms (and mostly, looks), "normal" people are that much more interesting, at least to me they are. Waiting for the right moment is so much better than trying to "pose" them...
Anyway, thanks for your thoughts, as always. Very appreciated that you share these with us.
Posted by: Wolfgang Lonien | Tuesday, 03 November 2015 at 12:22 AM
Mike, you are not so much giving advice but giving well-informed opinions (founded on much knowledge and not a little wisdom); as indeed, do most of your readers who post comments. That is such a great rarity in this inter-tube age that I usually read your posts and every comment, which is also a great rarity. My advice to you is to keep writing, because it is making your readers beautiful, as well as rich; that's my opinion and I'm sticking to it.
Posted by: Michael Bearman | Tuesday, 03 November 2015 at 06:05 AM
“Find out what you don't do well in life, and then don't do those things.” Bill Bishop, http://themarineinstallersrant.blogspot.com
Posted by: R.W. Bloomer | Tuesday, 03 November 2015 at 08:57 AM
hi, i've been a reader of this blog for years now. i think almost a decade. i still remember the first post i read - "Great photographers on the Internet". that was really funny.
i don't normally comment, but the line " 'persisting' in his increasingly unreasonable, quixotic dream" in your apparently controversial previous post resonated with me. i'm 34 this year, and i feel i'm on track to being that 40 year old "musician" guy you mentioned in that post. :P
Posted by: Gem | Tuesday, 03 November 2015 at 09:29 AM
This present post with the featured comment atop did help me understand better the original article.
I can see now how I easily think I "have to" master some photgraphic genres because... they're beaten like dead horses on the Internet.
Posted by: Winwalloe | Tuesday, 03 November 2015 at 12:32 PM
There's some kind of paradox lurking in this post. You're advising that we shouldn't take advice prescriptively, and presumably that applies to the advice to not take advice prescriptively. So we can take advice prescriptively in order to not take advice prescriptively. For what it's worth, I agree with at least one of those bits of advice.
Posted by: Bill Tyler | Wednesday, 04 November 2015 at 01:09 AM
Advice is the gift of the giver.
Posted by: Ernest Zarate | Wednesday, 04 November 2015 at 02:44 AM
Hilarious, Bill Tyler!
Here's a simpler, unambiguous take-away that's impossible to deny: Just make/take/capture the images you like and/or need. Let future historians/curators deal with your taxonomies! (They'll need the work.)
Posted by: Kenneth Tanaka | Wednesday, 04 November 2015 at 11:00 AM
A well designed sofa may not look right in your living room, but years later it may inspire the decor in your next one.
To a large extent I think you need to be 'ready' for advice, however 'well designed' it is.
Posted by: Steve Jacob | Wednesday, 04 November 2015 at 03:43 PM
The Vermont Cheese Truck!
Glad to see that. I used to pass it at least twice a week driving between NH and NY...the scenic route, as if there's any other kind in VT.
Posted by: Marty | Wednesday, 04 November 2015 at 06:08 PM