Ed Schlotzhauer

An artists journey

Category: Emotion

  • Competition

    Competition

    Why is it that we feel like we are in competition with other artists? Maybe, at its root, it is envy or insecurity. I don’t like to live in a competition. My desire is to make art and share my vision with other people. I believe that feeling we are in competition with other artists leads to problems for ourselves and can be a malignant stress eating away at us.

    Not competing until…

    Most people merrily go through their lives enjoying art without feeling any sense of competition. But for those of us who become artists, unfortunately, we tend to become critical and competitive.

    Once we are in the game we tend to look at other artist’s work more critically. It is hard to not think we could do better. Or think that our image that was similar was better composed and executed. Maybe we are right. Often, though, it is our ego or fear talking.

    Theodore Roosevelt (may have) once said “Comparison is the thief of joy”. Regardless of who said it, it is true that comparing ourselves to others is seldom beneficial and uplifting.

    Fear

    Why should we fear looking at someone else’s work? I think a lot of us are insecure. We aren’t secure in our conviction about the adequacy of our artistic skills. We have to boost our confidence by convincing our self that we are as good as them. Perhaps we fear failure and are unwilling to put our work out in the world publicly and face the potential criticism and rejection.

    It is not really a zero sum game – one winner and everybody else looses. When we see someone’s work that is good and excites us, we should be happy. It was a great achievement by them and it can inspire us to rise to greater levels in our own work.

    But doesn’t their achievement strike fear into us? Oh no, we aren’t any good, why am I calling myself an artist, how can I ever compete with them? This is our insecurity turned to fear. We try to compensate by criticizing the other artist’s work. Maybe it will make us feel better. If we believe our self.

    Jealousy

    Another negative feeling we may get is jealousy. We may not like to admit it, but think about it. Other people are getting praise and attention. They are selling well and making a lot of money. I should be in this gallery instead of them.

    We wish we were them. So we resent them. We look for ways to tear them down and to prove, even just to ourselves, that they are not so great. To believe that we are just as good.

    But don’t forget, you are jealous of them because you recognize their talent. That should be sobering.

    Become a critic

    Even if we don’t have full on, green-eyed jealousy, we may become a critic. To paraphrase George Bernard Shaw’s famous quote: “Those who can, do. Those who can’t become critics.”

    We can get to this point through festering fear or envy or jealousy. We try to put ourselves above the other artist. To give ourselves credentials to label them, to minimize their achievements, even to just nit-pick (the top left corner is not in perfect focus).

    Let me be very controversial and say I don’t think there are many critics who are worth listening to. Unless a critic has demonstrated history of creativity and success in similar art forms, they should be just another voice of someone entitled to their personal opinion.

    If George Lepp or John Paul Canponigro gave me a critique I would listen closely and thank them for their opinion. I would carefully consider it and may or may not act on it. If I decided to critique George Lepp, he probably wouldn’t listen to me at all. As he should. I have little experience in his genre and zero track record compared to him.

    Competitive market

    It is unavoidable a highly competitive market. We are always being compared to other artists. Fairly or unfairly, there will be winners and losers. The best don’t always win. “If you make it they will come” is ridiculous. There are biases and vested interests and politics at play everywhere.

    When we compete – and we always compete – we need to avoid the attitude that we are competing against “all those other artists”. That is turning our view out to worry about forces we cannot control. Instead, do your best and make work you are proud of.

    Sure, for a particular contest, we could research the judges and their styles and biases and research the audience and what usually sells and create work designed to score well here. It might work. But whose art are you creating? Is your work going to be dictated by other people’s attitudes?

    Relax

    Fear, jealousy, envy, and being critical are self-destructive attitudes. Look at other artist’s work and admire the ones you like. Go to them and sincerely congratulate them. It will have rewards for both of you. You will reclaim your self confidence and creativity. Getting over the competition and fear and jealousy will free up your emotional energy to create art.

    The reality is that we have our own unique vision, our own style and viewpoint. We are best off when we try to be the best version of our self we can be and create our own art. Even is nobody appreciates it. (cue a vanGogh discussion here 🙂 ) Unless you are starving and view your art as a job to earn money, it is better to follow your own vision. It would feel good to win that contest, but wouldn’t it be more rewarding to feel very proud of what we created?

    Art is an intensely personal internal journey. Hence the tag line for my blog: An artist’s journey.

  • Reality is Overrated

    Reality is Overrated

    Is this controversial for a photographer to say? I hope so. 🙂 Photography used to be the land of total realism. Not so any more. Photography for me is purely artistic expression, with little concern for reality. That’s because reality is overrated.

    Reality – the good

    There is a long and honored tradition of highly realistic landscape and street photography. When you think of landscapes, you might think of John Fielder or Art Wolf or Ansel Adams. For street photography maybe it is Henri Cartier-Bresson or Jay Maisel or Elliott Erwitt.

    All of these artists were true to the reality of the scenes they found. Of course they looked for the best composition or the right light or the dramatic expression – that is why they are recognized artists. But the photographs they took were not modified at all, other than routine spotting or color corrections.

    Is their work good because they only shot reality? No, their work is good because they are great artists. I could walk outside and shoot a picture looking down my suburban street and publish it. It would be absolutely real and unmodified. Would it be good art because of that? Not to me.

    Reality – the bad

    Following up on the point about shooting down the street, a picture isn’t good just because it is reality. Reality can be boring. It can be depressing. It can be dreary and banal. While there may be a time and place for these things, they are not where I want to spend much time.

    I am not a critic or authority. I would never say such subjects do not constitute art. But don’t get caught up in the post-modernism depression where you don’t view art as worthwhile unless it is depressing or banal. That is just one passing movement led by some people with a very dark world view.

    Be yourself. Express your own values. Like, and buy, what you like.

    Assume no reality

    Photography has become much wider and more diverse than it was a few decades ago. It used to indeed be true that “a photograph didn’t lie”. You could believe what you saw. Not anymore. Photojournalism may be an exception, but in today’s climate, I wouldn’t rush to ascribe too much credence to any particular image you see on the news unless you know the circumstances. News has become just a business, not a guardian of truth.

    A lot of artists, including myself, no longer consider it necessary to represent reality. Now, some of my work is extremely detailed, with sharp, crunchy texture and edges. I actually like doing these sometimes. It is almost reveling in the detail that can be captured by my sensor and lenses. Quite the opposite of some of my blurred, low texture images.

    But if you see one of my images with super sharp detail, don’t necessarily assume it is reality. Even when I am going for crisp and detailed, I am not at the same time representing to you that it is reality. It could be manufactured. Even if I know that it is real, it could look so abstract to you that you could not describe exactly what it is.

    It is art, not a documentary

    My point being that I am making art. I think most “artists” are making art. Enjoy it as art. Don’t be disappointed if you find out it is not reality. I’m not sure there is much overlap between art and reality.

    Art may speak to universal truths and bring deep insights into our lives, but it does it through its metaphors and imagery. It does it by touching something within us. In the same way that Shakespear gives us a lot of insights about life, even though his stories are fiction.

    So don’t assume photography has to depict reality while painting does not. Both are art.

    It is art, not reality

    I will go out on a limb and state that art is not reality and it cannot be. Art might show a representation of reality. Even a very realistic representation. But the art is not the reality. Art is a 2 or 3 dimensional object you look at.

    To take an example that may be easier to comprehend, it is like a book. An excellent work of fiction may create a reality in our mind, but that reality is what we interpret from what the book describes. The places may seem real. The characters may seem real and alive to us. But they are feelings the author has communicated to us through the words. Not reality itself.

    I am drawn to joy

    On a personal note, I am drawn to joy and things that are uplifting. Even when my images are dark or showing bleak mid winter scenes, they are not depressing. At least, not to me. I try to find a hopeful angle on my art.

    For instance, I love finding certain types of old rusty trucks and cars. After surviving for 50 to 90 years, it seems these relics have something to tell me. They have resisted the elements far longer than most things. They may be beat up and rusty and out of service, but they are still there defiantly. That is the joy to me in old things like this. They are still standing and making a statement; they are not junk. There seems to be something significant about that generation. Some quality that makes people want to keep them. A 1952 truck is often still around in 60 years. I don’t expect that many 2022 trucks will still be in as good a shape after 60 years.

    The picture with this article is composited from shots of some old vehicles. It is detailed and sharp, but it is not “real”. No object I know of in the world actually looks exactly like this. That doesn’t keep me from creating it. I could even represent it as something that could be, even if it does not currently exist. But realism or potential realism is not an important consideration for me. I only care about if I like it. I do.

    What do you think?

  • Changing the World

    Changing the World

    Is your work important if it’s not changing the world? I know many earnest artists believe this must be their goal. They are focused on their particular cause and it seems the center of the universe. Their work must be serious and significant and world changing.

    And sometimes it happens. A couple of Nick Ut’s and Eddie Adams’s photograph of the Vietnam war or some of Robert Capa’s images of the Spanish Civil War, among others, probably effected a lot of opinion. But these events happen once or a small number of times in a photographer’s lifetime. And they happened because the photographer was there in harm’s way and snapped a quick image of a poignant scene that materialized in front of him.

    Maybe setting this as our standard is an unrealistic goal for most of us, unless we are going to spend our lives in danger zones. It might even be self-defeating.

    Serious art

    You may have a cause that is very important to you. Seems like everyone does these days. It may be climate change or pollution or human trafficking or animal rescue or any of many other things. It is healthy to be trying to make positive change.

    But how does this affect your art? Should it?

    Here is a huge generalization I freely admit I cannot prove: when the cause becomes the center of focus, the art is secondary. This is just logic. If your primary goal is to promote your cause, the art will probably become photojournalism or even propaganda. I have seen things that grab me, but I have seldom also said, “and what great art”.

    Exceptions

    Every “rule” has exceptions. One that comes to mind is the great Paul Simon song Kodachrome. Did you know this was kind of a protest song done to try to stop Kodak from obsoleting Kodachrome film? It didn’t work, but it was an excellent song all on it’s own. It is still well known, long after Kodachrome is fading from memory.

    A famous painting that was intentionally done as a protest was Picasso’s Guernica. While it is almost unapproachable by me, it was influential and generated a lot of support for the Republicans in the Spanish Civil War. But, it was done by Picasso. He already had credibility and a huge following. If Bob Smith (sorry Bob) did it, would it have been so widely received?

    Another whole class of art was done to promote conservation. Great activists such as Ansel Adams and Galen Rowell, often working with organizations such as the Sierra Club, promoted conservation by showing beautiful pictures of wilderness areas. They were making art and serving a cause. It was and continues to be an excellent strategy: beautiful and uplifting art to show the benefits of advancing the cause. First, it was great art. Secondly, it furthered their cause.

    Create art that resonates

    I suggest, for those of us who haven’t reached the stature of a Picasso, that we first create great art. If we can capture beauty or reveal deep insights into the human condition or the world around us, that will attract attention. If we earn a forum to speak from, then we can tie our art in to a cause and try to persuade people. Produce things that attract people so they will listen to you.

    There is an old saying that “you can attract more flies with honey than with vinegar.” Leaving aside the question of why you would want to attract flies, you will build an audience by giving people things they are drawn to.

    Alexandra Klimas paints portraits of animals that are part of our food chain. They are warm and touching portraits and they make us think fresh about the animals. She says, “I am not an activist, I am an artist and I make art. Art should touch people and make them think. I don’t want to shock people. I am satisfied when people feel more connected to this group of ‘forgotten’ animals.” I think she has a great approach.

    Even if you are not promoting a cause, don’t you want people to resonate with your art? Not to say we should take a coldly commercial view and only produce what is popular at the moment. That is a sell-out. Shouldn’t we use our creativity to engage people, to draw them in, to make them ask questions?

    After all, it is supposed to be art. Go and make great art. It might help promote your cause. Or it might just make the world better. We need that more and more these days.

  • Polarizing

    Polarizing

    I wish I were talking about the great polarizing filters I routinely have on my lens. But no. We live in highly polarizing times. Just look at almost any political talk, at least here in the United States that I am familiar with. Or any “discussion” of social values, climate control, animal rights, etc. There seems to be a bimodal distribution on all things. That is just a fancy way of saying everyone is to one extreme or the other with few in the middle – we are polarized.

    I actually want to encourage it. Let me explain.

    Emotion

    One of my goals is to create a reaction in you with my images. It doesn’t have to be a strong reaction. I don’t shoot for social causes, so you won’t see starving refugees or sex trafficking or such subjects. Congratulations to those who are drawn to exploring such things, but that is not me.

    Nor do images need to be graphic and depressing to evoke emotion. One of the side effects of the extreme polarization in most things is that promoters of a cause are extremely “serious” about what they are doing. To the point where, if you don’t agree and support them, you are a worthless human being.

    I promise never to deal with you that way. My images look at the world around me, wherever I am. I try to find joy and wonder in even the smallest things. If I can transfer some of that wonder to you, I am successful. We all need more wonder and joy in our lives.

    So one metric I look for is that an image needs to be more than just about something. It needs to make you feel something.

    Boring

    I will express my personal opinion that most photography is boring. Including some of mine. Beautiful sunsets get old quick. Technically perfect images aren’t much use unless the subject or composition is also very strong. And selfies – I won’t even go there.

    I believe an image should move you in some way. Even if it is just to make you stare at it in disbelief or puzzlement. Ideally it should connect with you in some way. Some way that makes you pause and consider it for a while.

    It takes a lot of effort to make an image that is not boring. That is one reason it is fun and creative.

    Conventional

    Another trap is making conventional images. That is, subjects and compositions that we expect, that are similar to what most other people do. This is playing it safe. This is a danger of thinking in terms of social media “likes”.

    Learn the rules, then decide when to break them. You are an artist. There are really no rules. If we apply our creativity we can probably do better than the average and conventional. Try to look at things differently. Maybe a different position or unconventional lens choice. Spend time thinking about what you want to say.

    Being different can easily be abused. I do not care for images that are different in some weird way just for the sake of being different. What makes you think that landscape actually looks better out of focus? Have something to say.

    Wonder

    For me, it comes down to trying to keep a sense of wonder and finding out how to convey that to my viewers. It’s easier said than done. Most of us lose our wonder as we mature. That is unfortunate. We are just getting to a place where we can understand enough of the world to actually wonder at it.

    I understand. I lose my wonder at times and have to re-discover it. Especially now that I am old cynicism seems to wash the color out of everything. I fight it. Sometimes I win. It feels good to really get interested in something.

    Power of art

    I’m a hopeless optimist. I believe art is one of the things that can bring people together. It rises above our polarizing differences. There is not conservative or liberal art. No Blue or Red art. Even if we disagree on many things, we can share enjoyment of an image that speaks to us. We can even share dislike of an image.

    Maybe agreeing on something we both don’t like can start bringing us together.

    Love it or hate it

    That brings me back around to my theme for this article. I want my viewers to feel something when they look at my art. Ideally I would like them to love it. But is they don’t, I would prefer them to hate it than to be indifferent.

    This is my art. I labored over it to present it to you. Being indifferent is the most terrible outcome I can imagine.

    Unlike our divided political climate, I would prefer a polarizing, bimodal response to my art. If you don’t feel anything one way or another I have probably failed. Even if you hate it, perhaps you will at least consider it for a few minutes and decide maybe there is something there to take away.

  • It’s Not Necessarily About the Outcome

    It’s Not Necessarily About the Outcome

    Sometimes the muse abandons us or conditions conspire against us or we get interrupted by something urgent. This can make us create pictures that do not live up to our expectations. But unless we are shooting for a client, we probably should not worry so much about the results we get, the outcome. We should remember to enjoy the creative exercise and have fun.

    We all want great images

    I assume that creating exceptional images is a goal for most of us. I know my expectations are high. We study technique and browse images by great artists we appreciate. We spend a lot of time getting to a location, exploring, setting up, composing. But it doesn’t always work.

    Despite our best efforts, we are often disappointed. What we get may not be great. It may not even be very good. This can be very disappointing if we only judge our self by the outcome.

    They won’t all be great

    It is not uncommon for me to go out for a day of shooting and end up throwing most of them away, with none to add to my portfolio. Does this make me a failure? I try to see it differently.

    I hope we can be philosophical about it. Sometimes all we seem to get from our effort is experience. Hopefully we learn from our experiences and improve our craft. That’s a bittersweet benefit. But the reality is we will learn more from a failed shoot than a successful one.

    I’m coming to see that I am evaluating it wrong. My attitude was that I failed unless I got a number of great images. I concentrated on the outcome. There are greater goals.

    The process may be as important

    Sure, it is disappointing to not have captured those scenes that called to us at the time. But it is an opportunity for self-examination. What caused them to be unspectacular? Was there something we could have done different?

    The editing process is a mirror where we can see how our mind worked and even see our soul to some degree. The images are captured. For better or worse, the bits are there on the computer. Now we have to deal with them. We can process them, but we cannot change them substantively – well, usually not.

    I actually see something cathartic in deleting bad images. I have evaluated them and analyzed the problems and learned what I can. Now I have no more need of them. Remove them from my world. It’s a purging. In most cases I actually have an informal goal of throwing a certain percentage of my images away in the early stages of editing. The thought process is that I should be experimenting and working at the edge of my comfort zone. This causes a lot of failures. Failure is just part of learning.

    Enjoy your art

    Maybe I’m weird, but I see art as a work of joy. We should love what we do. Loving what we do is not the same as creating great work. They may be related, but they are not the same.

    There are times when I go out and don’t end up with anything to keep except the memory of the great scene and the feelings I had. That is enough. Good art should be based on the feelings we are trying to convey. If I had the feelings but couldn’t realize them in the image, that means I am on the right track but I have to learn more. That is a challenge for artistic growth. I have seen too much art that is technically perfect but seems to me devoid of feeling.

    There is a lot of talk about “flow” in the artistic process. Have you really experienced it? Not the fake stuff that is hyped by a lot of self-help gurus. There is no “hack” or shortcut to get there.

    I developed the ability in my previous professional career, before I ever heard the term defined. There was a “place” I could easily drop into, a creative mode where I did great work and would be completely unaware of time for hours.

    I can occasionally find the same place in my art, both when shooting and when processing. This is a reveling in the work regardless of the outcome. Yes, true flow is independent of what we might or might not produce. It is the joy of creation.

    Let’s learn to revel in the process, the flow. We will create great things, but that is not the goal in itself. The joy of creation will carry us to become greater. Look at what you are becoming, not just what you are producing.