Ed Schlotzhauer

An artists journey

Category: Craft

The Weakness of Photography
I love photography. It is my chosen art form. But photography has a weakness that weakens and cheapens it, in some people’s eye. Can it really be art?
Literal
We point our camera at a scene, press the shutter release, and it is recorded. Everything in the field of view is captured. We didn’t have to arrange it or decide what should be there. It is all scooped up.
Therefore, most photographs are straight views of literal scenes. Little thought and consideration went into it. There is trash and power lines we are expected to overlook. And that telephone pole growing out of the subject’s head: yeah, ignore that.
If we want to document a place or time, that can work. But we wouldn’t call that art.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Too easy
Along with that is just the fact that taking a photograph is too easy. Anyone with a phone can take a pretty good picture with no thought or effort. An amazing amount of computational science is applied in your phone to make it look good. And just like everyone else’s.
This is clearly seen in the trillions of photographs uploaded to social media and photo sites each year. And by the billions of hours of video uploaded to YouTube and TikTok. Everyone can do it, and they do.
If everyone can do it, it must not be special.
Too mechanical
And photography is criticized for being too mechanical. It seems more technology than art. People don’t need training to do it. Just Point and Shoot.
We capture a photograph in an instant. It can be sent anywhere in the world in milliseconds. We can paste it on social media for the world to see and comment on.
How many people shooting pictures on their phone are spending much time considering the artistic elements of the work? No, there is little to consider. Click the button. If you don’t like it, use the AI editing controls to make it good, or just shoot it again.
It’s just an automatically produced thing. It is no longer a picture; it is a commodity.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Is photography worthless?
To me, who likes photography as art, that sounds very bleak. So, has photography become worthless?
I like to think not.
Photography is an extremely challenging art form that requires intense effort and years of practice. At least for me. And at that, I’m just getting somewhat competent at it. I don’t think I will ever consider that I have mastered it.
That sounds contradictory. Thoughtless image capture that anyone can do or difficult and thoughtful art. Obviously 2 different things. That’s where we go off track in the argument. It is not photography that is art or not, it is our intended purpose and expectation. Are we capturing an image for a utilitarian purpose or creating a piece of art?
The same tools and processes are used for both. That confuses things.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
The difference
On the surface, it is hard to tell the difference between photography being done for art vs for utilitarian reasons. The subjects could be the same, the equipment could be the same, the locations could be the same.
If you watched the photographers work you would probably spot some differences, but not always. That is not a reliable indicator.
It may be overly simplistic, but I think the difference is what is going on in the photographer’s head. Their intent and purpose, the feeling and insight they bring to the scene, and their experience. It becomes art because there was an artist present, involved, responding, feeling, creating. This can transform a simple scene into art.
The subject
If we are creating for art, the depth of our involvement must become far more intense than a simple snapshot. One of the traps many people fall into is the consideration of the subject itself. Did you just capture the obvious shallow view of the subject, or does the image say something about our feeling or perception of the subject? Did we delve deeper and try to bring our something that is not obvious on the surface?
A representation of the subject is just that. What you see is what you get. But if we can bring our something different or new or insightful to challenge the viewer, the image could have staying power.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Composition
Most people walk up to a scene and snap it. An artist thinks about composition. About how the parts relate and are perceived. And about what to include and what to leave out.
Often the artist has no ability to re-arrange the scene, but they have freedom to change their position or to zoom in to parts of the whole. Small changes of location or framing can make huge changes in the visual effect.
If we are serious about photography, we know the basic principles of composition: placement on thirds, leading lines, visual weight, etc. How we use them while making an image depends on our personality and experience. I don’t have a checklist of composition rules with me. For me, it is more subconscious recognition of them. As in “there’s a potential leading line; can I exploit it; will it make the composition stronger?”
A well composed image will be seen as designed, intentional, crafted, and more whole.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Form
An artist will look at the same scene as anyone else and see interesting shapes and patterns. They are aware of textures and reflections and how the light is playing across the subject.
Sometimes form is the whole purpose of an image. This is especially common in black & white. One of the reasons for producing an image in black & white is to remove extraneous elements like color and immediate subject recognition, leaving the forms and tones as the focus.
Subtleties like this are not usually obvious to the snapshot shooter.
Gesture
This is a favorite of mine. Gesture is not just a certain movement. It is what shows the innate character of something. The great Jay Maisel is a huge proponent of the concept. He goes so far as to say:
It’s light, gesture, and color. It really doesn’t matter what you photograph.
Jay Maisel
That is, the subject is less important than capturing that thing or moment that shows its essence. Discovering the gesture can be hard, but it is worthwhile. We could take a picture of a thing, or we can look for something that shows what the thing does or feels or how it behaves. That gives it life.
Finding and capturing the gesture usually requires intense concentration and attention. You must approach it with the will to find it. But it is a process of the artist looking deeper and with more intent than the snapshot shooter.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Are photography’s problems solvable?
Yes, because it doesn’t actually have a problem. Photography is a wonderful practice and every bit as artistic as any of the other established art forms.
The fact that the vast majority of pictures are taken as snapshots/throwaway/selfies/travel memories does not invalidate that the medium can be used for artistic purposes. That would be like saying most people can’t write well, so writing is not valuable.
I use my phone to grab quick shots all the time: a sign with a name or telephone number I need, a part I need to find at the hardware store, something that amuses me, or my grandson. These serve exactly the purpose I want. Either a throwaway or a memory. Every day I also take my “real” camera with me and occasionally see something to shoot from an artistic viewpoint.
These are 2 different activities with completely different purposes. Neither invalidates the other. Both exist together and do not compete. The same technology is being used for different goals. It’s not the subject or the equipment or the location that separates them. It is the intent and skill of the photographer. And it is the desire of the artist to create.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Is photography as an art going away?
As far as photography as art going away, I would claim the opposite. Since most pictures taken are mediocre, at best, when we come along with an image created with skill and an artistic style, it will get noticed. It will be obvious to most people that this is different and special.
The introduction of photography caused many painters to fear it would replace them. Instead, it freed them from a lot of routine and repetitive work, like basic portrait commissions, and allowed them to create. Impressionism and other artistic directions emerged. I believe we will see some of the same.
As photographers who are trying to lift our work above the base level, we should not be apologetic about photography or feel inferior. Our intent is to produce art. We should not price our work at giveaway prices because many people expect that. Look for a market that appreciates the difference.
You are an artist. You are creating things that are unique and special – aren’t you? If not, you will be swallowed up in the giant flood of ordinary and AI generated images.
June 11, 2026
And Be There
If you have done photography for a while, you probably have heard the expression “f/8 and be there.” Have you ever thought about it?
Origin
The quote is most often associated with the photographer Arthur Fellig (more commonly known as Weegee). It is not known for certain if he originated it or even said it. But it has stuck and become a cliché.
Keep in mind that this originated in the first half of the 20th Century. As a photojournalist Weegee used a bulky SpeedGraphic 5×7 film camera with film holders. These are slow and heavy and difficult to use at the best of times. These were manual focus, manual exposure with no metering, and single shot film holders.
Weegee shot mostly at night in New York City in fast moving situations. He was usually competing with the police to be first on scene so he could get a good picture. Often, he developed his film in a makeshift studio in the trunk of his car.
He became one of the masters of this craft of gritty photojournalism. When asked the secret of his photographic technique he is supposed to have replied “f/8 and be there”.
Was that just a clever throw-away phrase or did it have meaning?
©Ed Schlotzhauer
f/8
We know that f/8 refers to the aperture of the lens. It is a truth of lens design that the “sweet spot” or maximum sharpness of a lens is generally around f/8 or f/11. That was very true in Weegee’s day and is still true today. So, presetting your aperture to f/8 is a pretty good initial guess for a balance between exposure, depth of field, and sharpness.
Weegee is reported to usually leave his camera focused at 10 ft and aperture f/11 or f/16 (contrary to the reported quote). Then it was already set to a good guess for a fast-breaking situation. His big flash bulb would light up the exposure at night. Remember those?
Weegee was a master of his craft. His Speed Graphic was slow and heavy compared to modern cameras, so he believed in presetting his camera to a good starting guess for the situations he expected. He was comfortable using his tools and tried hard to keep time consuming technical decisions out of the way.
This sounds like good advice for us, too. Being so familiar with our cameras that we can adjust them quickly, even instinctively, for the creative situation we encounter will usually help us come away with good pictures. Anticipating settings for what we will encounter is even faster.
So, my takeaway here is that f/8 is not a magic setting, but we should practice using our tools until we can adjust them to the settings we want quickly and even in the dark. The technical process should fade into the background. It is sad to miss great pictures because we are fiddling with camera settings.
And f/8 is a pretty good default choice.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Being there
Maybe the more important part of the phrase is “being there.” We can plan, we can spend all day on Google Earth or PhotoPils or studying people’s online posts, planning what we would do if we were there, but if we are not there, we can’t shoot it.
My virtual mentor Jay Maisel said:
If you are out there shooting, things will happen for you. If you’re not out there, you’ll only hear about it.
Jay Maisel
Weegee was out there, every day, in the worst conditions, racing the police to crime scenes. His persistence is one reason we still talk about him today. He got results.
Going out and making photographs where you are may be more useful than spending all year planning for that “big” photo trip. What good is it to get to that bucket list location but not know how to use your equipment well enough to capture what you planned? What do you do if you get there and conditions are completely different from what you planned for? Do you have the mental toughness and technical savvy to look around for something else interesting?
If you shoot fast and instinctively, constant practice develops the muscle memory that makes camera settings automatic. That frees more of our mind for considering composition, feeling, and interpretation. Part of it is education, but a lot of it is practice.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
For us
I think, for most of us, the situation is very different from Weegee’s day. We have fast acting and accurate automatic cameras with speedy auto focus lenses. So then, is the f8 and be there saying still relevant?
I think so. I read it as encouragement to learn our equipment well enough that it is not a barrier to getting the shot we want, and to put ourselves out in the action, because that is where things are happening.
The “action” does not have to be fast breaking photojournalism on the gritty streets of New York City. Go out exploring frequently in your local environment. Take a few day trips to surrounding places. Try to get a window seat on the airplane and be that guy who shoots out of the window during the flight.
Basically, be tuned in (mindful) wherever you go and wherever you are. Weegee may have meant the phrase as a quickly tossed off platitude. But I believe it contained some truth we can learn from. It may have been a platitude, but that does not make it incorrect.
F/8 and be there. Practice it.
April 8, 2026
Impatience
Here’s a confession: one reason I’m a photographer is that I’m too impatient to do any other type of art I like (except writing). Have you ever considered that photography is a form of impatience?
Not painting
I long ago figured out that I could never be happy painting. I can’t draw well. Most of my grandkids exceeded my drawing ability when they were about 4. Well, I have one who is only 6 weeks old, so I can do better than him. But even more than my inability to draw, I know that I would not be able to keep my interest going through rounds of sketches and design trials, and through days or weeks of work manually laying pigment on a canvas to create a finished work.
And then if I want another copy, I must either photograph it and make prints or go through the manual work of painting another one. I guess that enforced scarcity works to the advantage of a painter by keeping numbers low and prices high.
I’m just not wired that way. If I see something interesting, I want it captured now. And if you like it and want a print, I want to be able to make a copy for you quickly.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Not short attention span
Based on what I said, you might assume I have a short attention span. But that’s not true. In my career as an Engineer I would often get so lost in a project that I might disappear in it for hours without remembering to eat or go to the bathroom. Flow states were common. Even now, I can spend hours reading or writing or working on images on the computer. No, I can focus my attention fully on something I am interested in.
The problem is a type of boredom that stems from impatience. If I am not engaged, if something is not keeping my interest, I tend to avoid or abandon it. More of my life is behind me than in front of me. I can feel that, and my reaction is to walk away from things that I consider a waste of my time. Time can’t be saved, only spent well.
For instance, as I write this, it is tax time in the US. I gather up all of my data and hand it off to someone else to go through the details of figuring it and filling out the forms. It is worth it to me to pay them. Otherwise, I would go crazy beating my head against that mindless bureaucracy.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Spontaneity
I find that in my art, I love spontaneity. If I see something interesting, I want to capture it immediately. Spending hours, if necessary, working it on the computer is not a problem. I did the raw image capture when I saw it. That satisfied my basic need.
My photography is almost exclusively “in the moment”. I am a hunter-gatherer. Planning usually does not go farther than “it should be stormy tomorrow. Maybe I’ll head east to see if I can find some good shots without getting caught in a tornado.” Literally, being aware of tornadoes, hail, or serious thunderstorms is a primary consideration where I live. But that makes for some great images.
I know that some people plan their shoots in great detail. They want to know the exact day and time and location to be at to get “the shot.” This doesn’t work for me. Unless it is a commercial shoot, that much planning narrows my options too much. It takes all the spontaneity out.
I don’t care about “the shot” as much as finding something interesting that I can exercise creativity on.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Work with what’s there
Why do I work this way? The simple answer is “it works for me.” I am generally happy with the results I get, even if I sometimes come back with nothing. The thrill of the hunt is reward enough. It is a percentage game. Win a few, lose a few, the process is satisfaction. The benefit of finding a new viewpoint or something unique is enough.
Perhaps I’m an endorphin junky. If I’m out and about my subconscious may recognize something, even if it is just a potential to be worked. It alerts me to it, and this creates a burst of light/energy/warmth, whatever. It is difficult to describe. But there is a joy and excitement of discovery. Each find creates a kind of high. I would not be finding these things if I was fixed to a shot list and schedule.
Plus, there is something about my psyche that enjoys working with a real scene rather than creating a fictitious world. I may take the image, or bits and pieces of several and create something different, abstract, even surreal. but ultimately my raw material is real world elements.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
It fits me
So, I have learned and rationalized that photography fits me. I prefer to “run and gun” instead of carefully planning. I want to be inspired by what I discover and be able to capture it immediately. Then go on to the next scene that stimulates me.
It’s not so much the overall time. An image may require hours of computer work to perfect. It is the lack of barrier between what I see and what I capture that keeps me going. My creativity likes to work spontaneously and in the flow. That is one reason I could never express my art in painting.
Sure, I could try to do plein air painting or paint from photographs. But why? Plein air painting seems to me to be attempting to (slowly) capture a photograph. And if I were to paint from a photograph, I would have to wrestle with the question of why not just print the photograph?
So, over time, I concluded that photography is my art. Besides not being able to draw, I would be bored trying to express my vision so slowly and painfully. I like to move fast when I see something interesting. It is a joy to get in a flow, to follow my mood and instincts.
I have great respect for good painters. But I could not be content doing what they do. Too much impatience.
March 25, 2026
A Blank Canvas
Some people seem to hunt for the same images others have already taken. I go out with a blank canvas to fill with what I experience or visualize.
Research
I have known many people who would never go anywhere without thoroughly researching the location. They study samples of photos there. An itinerary will probably be planned, scheduling locations and the best time of day to be there and places to stand to shoot each scene.
The internet has amazing resources for doing this type of research. You can see exactly when and where the sun will rise and set. Likewise, when the moon will rise and set and the phase. You can virtually “stand” in any location and look around and see the view. And, of course, there are endless galleries of photos from most locations.
I am not criticizing this. We each do what works best for us. This does not work for me. I am not a planner in this way. I would. prefer to be surprised. Finding something interesting is more important to me than coming away with a certain pre-planned shot.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Iconic locations
And how many people plan whole vacations around traveling to prime iconic locations to photograph? I guess, if you are new to photography, there is an excitement around being able to say, “I can shoot that, too.” Some have their “bucket list” they want to fill out. Maybe it seems to build a sort of credential.
I do not resonate with this. I have little interest with going somewhere just to metaphorically put my tripod feet in the holes others have worn over the years. It is great to visit beautiful locations. I cannot help but snap some pictures. But I would seldom consider putting them in a portfolio. To me, this is filling my canvas with someone else’s picture. But then, I’m weird.
A possible exception is an iconic location I can become intimately familiar with. For instance, I live less than an hour from Rocky Mountain National Park. I have shot a lot there. I am beginning to develop a relationship with it. It’s moods and weather changes, its commonly seen and out of the way sights are familiar. I feel this lets me see it in a very different way from an occasional tourist. Still, though, most of the pictures I would choose to show are somewhat different from the classic iconic shots. By getting familiar with a location, I can discover how I see it on a deeper level.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Likes
And there is the great lure of social media likes. It is a deep psychological addiction the tech companies have hooked people on.
I can’t say it is impossible to make actual friends on social media. And I agree that there can be some benefit to posting some photos to see the reactions. I’m afraid, though, that for some of us, it becomes a game of collecting the most “likes” to validate ourselves.
Thank you, but I’ll pass. The way to maximize likes is to shoot the bland, ordinary pictures that the masses like. A pretty sunset always gets likes. I would rather create images that excite me. If I am going to go to the trouble of filling my canvas, shouldn’t I make something that pleases me?
©Ed Schlotzhauer
What is a blank canvas?
I have been using this metaphor of a blank canvas, but what does that mean? I think of my digital file as a canvas. It is a surface to paint on.
As photographers, we paint with light. I and many others have noted that one of the unique aspects of photography is that, when we click the shutter release, everything in the field of view of our lens is recorded. So, we must be very careful to decide beforehand what we want to image and what to exclude. This is one aspect of filling my canvas.
Alternatively, we can use a more painterly technique of drawing and brushing or copy/pasting or compositing to build an image “from scratch.”
Either way, a digital image is created. That is my workflow. I do not do film anymore.
Both the paths I described involve deliberate artistic decisions rather than just “Pretty – Click”. The camera and computer are tools to use to make art. We must bend the tools to our will and vision.
Some of us focus a lot on the technology. We use only the best prime lenses with the highest resolution sensors and always use a steady tripod to capture the finest detail that can be obtained. I understand.
Personally, I have fallen out of love with technology. I no longer will decide not to print an image because it was shot with a lens that did not have optimum lines of resolution. Ultimate technical perfection is no longer my goal.
So, basically, my blank canvas is my digital file. It starts as empty. I choose what to image or draw or composite onto this canvas. Hopefully, it is a well-chosen creative decision.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Who am I shooting for?
In the end, I want to create images that please me. I am the audience that matters most. The ones I really like are seldom standard iconic scenes anymore and they are not designed to maximize likes.
Rule of thirds? Don’t care. Expose to the right? Maybe, maybe not. Sharp focused subject? Not necessarily. Locked down on a tripod for maximum sharpness? Probably not, maybe exactly the opposite. Don’t photograph in the middle of the day. Ridiculous!
Those technical considerations are of little interest to me. I delight in going against normal conventions. A good image is usually one I consider creative, a fresh point of view, something I’ve never seen and that I think my viewers have not seen.
But there is a problem with that. Once I have shot it, it is not as creative anymore. I might explore the idea for a while until it has run its course, but then I must keep going to find something else new and creative. But that is part of what excites me. The goal line is always moving. There is no point where I believe I will be able to say, “I have arrived; I am the perfect artist.”
My photography is an exercise in creativity. It is a creative image that I want on my canvas. Even if it is not technically perfect. It may even be impossible to make the image technically perfect. That does not bother me anymore.
What will you choose to write on your canvas? Copies of the same standard shots or fresh, new work? We make the choice every time we pick up our camera and contemplate that blank canvas.
March 18, 2026
Loud Whispers
Most images today are designed to explode, to attack, to shout. Are these the ones you remember? I usually don’t. I think the quiet ones, the loud whispers, have more staying power.
Attention
It is repeated endlessly and taken for true that we are in an attention economy. Media vendors make money by keeping people engaged on their site. So entertainment, doom-scrolling, click bait, fake news, short videos, and many other products and psychological tricks are used to hook us and keep us watching. I read that the average person now touches their phone 2,617 times a day. We spend over three hours daily on social media alone.
A byproduct of this attention manipulation is that it changes us mentally. Many people develop a short attention span. We must be continually stimulated to keep the dopamine flowing. Basically, the companies encourage us to regress to childhood.
Do not believe that the media companies care about art. It is just a commodity. They don’t care what they sell so long as it keeps eyeballs on their app.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Photography
This short attention span affects much photography today. Images are expected to have punch, to hook us immediately. It is believed that they should immediately reveal their meaning without requiring any work by the viewer.
Implicit in this is the assumption that a viewer will look at an image for about 1 – 2 seconds and then go on, looking for the next exciting image. The next dopamine hit. Doom scrolling until we go blind.
Even in a gallery or a museum, where it would be expected that people would have a higher level of appreciation, it is normal to watch people just strolling by the lines of art on the wall. Just idly considering some of them, but dismissive of most.
Now I will be quick to say that a lot of art, including photography, can be quickly dismissed. Things that try so hard to be “creative” that they forget to be good. If it is made by or for the short attention span generation, there is little staying power.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Impact
I believe that much of the “impact” that is promoted in the attention economy is false. It’s like eating candy. There is a quick sugar rush that feels good for a minute, but it fades quickly and there is no food value that is good for you. It is actually worse for you than skipping it completely.
The dramatic, over saturated sunset is pretty, but there is little to get from it. The classic landscape image is pretty, but it is just another wide angle shot from the same viewpoint everybody stops at. Portraits tend to be either selfies or would-be fashion shots that tend toward creepy.
Most of these are easily forgettable. A few minutes later we don’t even recall anything about them.
I guess the question is was it OK to put it out there just to get a few “likes”, or did you want people to engage with your image? That is a very personal question. I can’t claim there is a universal right or wrong answer.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
What stays
I have noticed, over the years, that many of my images are “nice” and people like them, but only a few leave a lasting impression on me. It would be nice to be able to give a definitive description of what makes one have staying power, but I cannot.
Since I cannot define it, I cannot reproduce it on demand. Often, I do not recognize these images immediately. It is not uncommon for the images that excited me when I was taking them to not be ones that had this staying power. It may even be that some of these long term keepers are on the edge of being culled out during editing. Sometimes, though, something pulls at my subconscious, and I keep it until I can figure out how I feel.
It may be days or weeks in coming, but eventually I have a mini-epiphany and recognize that there is something significant there calling to me. Or perhaps I must work with the image for a while. Crop it, change it around some, maybe see it in black & white. But at some point, a new understanding may emerge. It changes magically from a picture I guess I will keep to something I really like.
That is like finding a buried treasure.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Quiet
I said I can’t define what makes one of these images, but one thing I can identify as a frequent characteristic is that they are quiet images. They don’t shout for attention. They don’t jump up and scream “look at me!”
Instead, they are often more reserved, almost shy. These are the ones that whisper instead of shout. These are the loud whispers. They quietly have something to say, and they know it. It is there to see, if the viewer takes the time to look for a while. The reward will come through investing the time and attention to appreciate it. I think that is the side of the attention economy I prefer.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Out of the mainstream
So, maybe it is true that the attention economy. has completely taken over photography. Perhaps most people expect every image to jump up and shout and bare all in 1 second.
I am old and out of touch. I still have this notion that a photograph must be well crafted and thoughtful. That it should be something you want to keep coming back to. You want to spend time with it and reflect on the subtle interest and meanings you find. These are the ones I call a loud whisper.
So, I will continue to shoot a lot, to experiment freely, and to try to think fresh about my subjects. Occasionally I will discover one of these quiet gems. I will continue to go along my own path of obscurity, but content in the joy and satisfaction my work brings me. And it does. Sometimes the whisper becomes a shout.
February 25, 2026