Ed Schlotzhauer

An artists journey

Blog

What Does It Mean
We’re artists. Artists create art. We’re told art is supposed to have meaning. Do we always know what does it mean?
High art
We’re repeatedly told that art has meaning. It should educate or challenge or at least raise questions. To many, art should support a cause and try to change the world.
But when we read artist statements and gallery statements, it can seem they are speaking a different language. One too high for us commoners to understand. Therefore, we are not in the inner circle. But remember, they are selling a product. The more elite it appears to be, the higher the price it can command and the more collectable it is. I understand, but I don’t like the game.
This is from the point of view of photography, because that is the main art I understand. I can somewhat understand that if you have a very labor-intensive product that takes weeks or months to create, it may be necessary to do whatever you can to make it more valuable. And putting all that time and work into it makes you want to believe it must have great artistic significance. After all, if I can create a finished photo in a few hours but you need weeks to create your painting, the painting must have deeper meaning, right?
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Where does meaning come from?
But where does meaning come from? Do I put meaning in when I create a photograph? Or does the viewer assign meaning to it? Or is there even meaning at all?
Maybe all of those.
Sorry to be vague, but that is the way it seems to me. There are no clear, definite answers. Like many important things in life, the answer is “it depends”.
I think sometimes that I have meaning in mind when I make a photo. Sometimes not. I am occasionally surprised by meanings that viewers of my images describe to me. I have to try to keep a poker face while I’m thinking “where did they come up with that?”
And when I read some artist statements about images I can’t help being a little skeptical. They must be incredibly deep thinkers to have visualized all of that meaning and symbolism at the instant they took the photo.
But I typically do not operate on those lines.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Whose meaning?
This brings up the question of whose meaning are we talking about? As the artist, I may have visualized a meaning at that moment. This would be based on my cumulative feelings and experiences. But each viewer will form his own interpretation of meaning in the image. And each may be different, based on their own feelings and experiences. The viewers are experiencing the image in a different context than I shot it.
As the artist, do I have the right to decide the meaning and require everyone to line up with it? I don’t think so. The picture is mine, but each viewer’s meaning is theirs.
An art critic or curator may analyze one of my images in detail. They can talk about the composition and lighting and placement of elements and use of color and how those formed or contributed to the meaning. They could go into the symbolism it contains. How the symbols connect to some event or period and what meaning that has.
I might say thank you for complimenting my (probably instinctual) compositional design. But at the same time, my BS meter will be pegged. Maybe at some level I was aware of the symbolism and meaning he describes, but maybe not.
Do I create meaning?
I have often wondered if I create meaning in an image. I believe I occasionally use symbolism. Occasionally I touch on themes much larger than my work. But it is not my style, when making art, to be heavy-handed on meaning. I probably was unaware or only dimly aware of any symbolism when I make the image.
For example, a Sierra Club photographer might show hunters clubbing baby seals for their fur. This brutally makes their point, and it has “meaning” in the context of their cause, but it is not necessarily art. It is propaganda photography.
My art always expresses an opinion. But I do not believe I should try to force my opinion on you. If you look at my image and come to the same opinion I had, great. If not, I hope you form an opinion that makes you appreciate the image.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Do I know what it means?
I am continually asking myself if I even know what an image means. This is especially true when I am editing and culling images. We all occasionally ask ourselves “why did I take that?” But at a deeper level the question is “what does it mean?”
I often have to say, I don’t know. It triggered some emotion. Maybe that emotion was just that it was pleasing. But I know that sometimes I had a feeling that it had some meaning I might not have been able to express then.
I’ve stopped trying to over analyze my images as I am shooting them. That can come later during editing.
And another aspect of this I find very interesting is that the meaning or worth of an image often changes for me with time. I usually use a technique I call slow editing. That is, I try to wait for days or weeks before doing serious edits. This lets the emotion of the shoot fade and allows me to examine the images in a more detached way. Obviously, I don’t follow the common practice of downloading daily and rushing some images out to the eagerly waiting internet.
A side effect of slow editing is that my opinion of some images changes between the time I shot it and the time I edit it. Sometimes dramatically. I have been known to throw out most of a shoot that I thought was going to be significant. On the other hand, there have been times that an image I was about to throw out ends up being my favorite of a shoot. My understanding changes. A realization grows of something I must have been drawn to when I captured the image, but it did not break into my consciousness until I gave it time.
So, do I know what my images mean? Maybe over time, after reflecting on them long enough, I might have a glimmer of understanding. Perhaps I see a connection to my beliefs or values. I might, occasionally, even say an image has meaning.
But in general, I resist the presumption that my images “mean” anything of themselves. If I or a viewer give them meaning, that is wonderful. Meaning only makes sense for a human.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Make art
So, what about meaning? If you are making fine art, I recommend not worrying too much about what does it mean. Instead, concentrate on making what you consider to be your art. Pictures without art are advertising or propaganda or snapshots. Art without obvious meaning is still art.
I try to be gentle about conveying meaning to my viewers. To me, being heavy-handed robs an image of depth. Viewers will assign meaning to it. Or they won’t. It is fine with me if they just like it.
And worrying too much about meaning when I am shooting robs me of much of the emotional attachment I felt at the time. I don’t appreciate a meaningful but lifeless image. I want my images to feel fresh and lively and maybe, in a way, humorous. Sometimes just being pretty can be enough.
Make the best art you can. Put your feelings and intensity into it. Let yourself be surprised by the meaning. The best ones will have meaning, because it is an expression of your deep attachment to the subject. Your viewers want to see the meaning you felt. And they are free to create their own meaning.
November 5, 2025
Post Exploration
We focus a lot on the process of taking pictures. And rightly. But the world of post processing is another rich opportunity for “making” images.
Taking pictures
When we think about photography, we think about taking pictures. After all, that is what photography is, isn’t it? That is where we capture the data that becomes the final image. For many, the thinking stops there. Click – picture.
Maybe crop it a little or remove a distraction. Perhaps work on the overall color. But the picture is the picture. No reason to make many changes.
Many people, especially some “serious” photographers, feel that the image should be made whole and complete in the camera. Anything other than simple edits that make no substantive changes to the original image is suspect or forbidden. That is their opinion, and they are welcome to it, so long as they do not try to bind it on me.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Post processing
But for other photographers, the world of post processing is much larger than that. Yes, there is cropping and distraction removal and some color tweaks, but those are just the basic first steps.
I will go out on a limb and say that post processing is as large and important a skill as is capturing images. The world of digital imaging has thrown us into a situation where what happens after the shutter press can be as important as what happens leading up to it. And our tools have become far more powerful, enabling “darkroom” processing far beyond what any film shooter ever dreamed of. It would be foolish not to take advantage of it.
I assume you shoot RAW images. There are times to shoot jpg, but those are rare in my world of fine art photography. But RAW images require extensive editing. They look bland right out of the camera, since they did not go through heavy-handed jpg processing that is trying to make a best guess of what we wanted.
Just enhancing
After that initial round of basic edits, we get more serious for the images we pull out to work up. Now we probably do some initial sharpening. Then set overall contrast, black & white points, maybe some clarity to punch it up some more.
At this point the image is starting to take shape. Now I may spend a lot of time working on tonal gradations. Working on the details of lighting and separating element so they can be seen more clearly. Then there is working on global saturation and luminance and maybe even hue of individual colors.
We may decide to add a vignette to help focus attention on the subject. Perhaps we will use color grading or profiles to change the overall “look” of the image. Maybe so far as going to black & white.
There are so many more. This is just the tip of the iceberg. We can easily spend hours on one image doing these and many more. I have watched hundreds of hours of tutorial videos describing techniques for doing these things. Really getting in depth on Lightroom Classic or, especially, Photoshop is a project requiring years. And they are moving targets.
But at this point, we have a nicely corrected image – that is still basically the original photograph. It may be exactly the scene as we remember it, or it may have a color wash, or even be in black & white, but it is the same photograph.
Again, this is where another large group of photographers stop.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Permission to play
And that’s where I stop with most of my images. But there are other doors to open that can lead to new destinations.
Here is a statement of belief for me: pixels are raw material. They are just pieces of data saved on your computer. They do not “mean” anything except for the meaning we ascribe to them when we view them all together as an image. This is my belief. but since it is not based on laws or regulations or fundamentals of nature, it is just my belief. Feel free to disagree and act accordingly.
But since this is my belief, I am free to do anything I want with my data. There is nothing like PETA for protecting against the abuse of pixels.
I give myself unlimited permission to play with my data. And I do, to degrees. The problem is that it is hard to break away from old habits and beliefs. Too often, I am trapped by my limited thinking. I see an image. I don’t always see what those pixels could become. That, more than camera resolution or tools or computer power, limits what I make.
Permission to play does not mean I will always take advantage of my freedom. I am self-limited. My actions don’t always follow my beliefs. But I’m trying to break my mental barriers.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Making new images
I love compositing, combining 2 or more images to make something new. It is a joy when I can take 2 dissimilar images and make something different from either. Sometimes I put together 3,4, 10 images. The resulting image may only have bits and pieces of each source file. Did you know that a TIFF file has a maximum size of 4G Bytes? After that you must bump up to the PSB format. Quite a few of my experimental images do that.
And I love taking an image and processing it with different textures or digital effects to create a very different look. So much so that sometimes when I am out shooting, I mainly shoot textures. I have a good library of them.
And have you played with some of the interesting Photoshop filters that are built in? Quite a variety of tools for blur, rendering, warp, landscape mixer, distort, stylize, etc. I can experiment for hours in Photoshop trying new combinations of things.
Some actually create results I like. But you never know until you try.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
The digital world
My point is that our “photo opportunities” do not stop when we press the shutter. Capturing a good image is very important. But there are endless possibilities for improving it or totally changing it in post processing. Sometimes we see opportunities for doing more than just making an image look better. Post processing is another creative outlet.
Digital images are much more malleable than film. Pixels are just data. Data can be processed. There is a world of opportunity in the post processing, if we can break out of our limited view of what can and should be done to our pixels. I call it post exploration.
If you are a fine art photographer, the ethical choice is to do your best, most creative work. Not to protect pixels.
October 29, 2025
Lean Into It
I can’t be passive about my art, my photography. The only way I know to approach it is to lean into it. To boldly and confidently attack it.
Different styles
We all have different personalities and different working styles for our art. A portrait photographer or wedding photographer might need to be in positive control of the situation. To direct the subjects to get the shots and results anticipated. On the other hand, a street photographer may unobtrusively “stalk” the shots he wants. He works completely in the background and usually without the subjects being aware of being photographed.
A landscape photographer may plan a trip long in advance to be at a certain location at what he determines to be the best time for the shot he wants. Or another one may just go wandering with no preconceived plans or shot list.
These are examples. All show different methods of approaching the craft. But regardless of the approach or the personality, one of the common ingredients in our art is intensity.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Intensity
All good artists I know share a certain type of intensity about their craft. When they are doing their art, they are “on” – focused, earnest, single-minded.
In my limited experience, this seems to be true no matter what genre they work in. Their personality modifies the way this intensity is expressed, but it is usually there.
I think this intensity helps to focus us on where we are and what is happening. On our goals or what we are experiencing. It helps us to stay in the moment.
People talk with some longing about flow states and how desirable they are. But in my art and in the career I had before that, I find them common. Valuable and wonderful, but fairly easily achieved.
That is not bragging. I think the intensity and focus I can bring to my work enables flow. It is not uncommon for me to be so caught up in my photography or writing or editing that hours can pass without me being conscious of them. From talking to other artists, I believe this is a shared experience for many.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Mindful
I often talk about the desirability of being mindful. The intensity of our focus on our work leads to this type of mindfulness. Mindfulness in the sense that we are completely caught up in the moment. We are immersed in our art and the creative process. Other concerns and considerations do not exist for us at that moment.
Let me emphasize that I am taking about lower case “mindfulness”. Not some system of chants or meditation. It is not a semi-religious experience for me. I hold my own religious beliefs, and they are separate from this.
I believe this type of mindfulness is a result of my intense focus on my art, not a cause of my creative output. That is, my focus leads to creativity and mindfulness, not the other way around.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Do it
We all get into creative slumps. No new ideas are popping up. We aren’t even enthusiastic about getting out and taking pictures or editing. That’s natural.
But I feel that one of the worst things we can do is just sit around waiting to feel inspired. At these times, I believe it is important to get up and get out and work. Go out to “do” art and do it until we loosen up and get into the moment and things start to flow.
This is what I mean by “lean into it“. It is a process of embracing what we are doing and the situation we are in, making it into something good. It is a matter of overcoming a situation or our inertia. We push back against what is resisting us, and deal with it, with confidence and determinism.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Resistance can often be a good thing. That is what exercise basically is. Forcing our body to work against the weights or the track builds up strength and endurance. I believe strongly that it works the same way for our mental powers. We need to read and think about challenging material. Things that exercise our brain. I can’t prove it, but I believe it also works for our creative powers. We learn to create better by going through the pain of creating.
Same in our photography. We often blame circumstances, and they are real and inescapable. But much of the time the real barrier is our attitude. We are not willing to change our attitude and put in the work to overcome the situation. Get out the door (or go to where you do your work), get switched on, find your intensity. Lean into it.
Nike was right: just do it.
Do one thing every day that scares you. Those small things that make us uncomfortable help us build courage to do the work we do.
Eleanor Roosevelt
Inspiration is for amateurs. Us professionals just go to work in the morning.
Chuck Close
October 22, 2025
No Medium Format
Despite their advantages, and as much as I would like to, there is no medium format camera in my plans any time soon.
Fine tools
It is a joy to use fine tools. The better we become in any craft, the more we appreciate our tools. After all, we use them frequently and tend to push them to their limits. I believe this is as true for a photographer as any other artist or craftsman.
Plus, there is the ego boosting feeling of possessing and using something expensive and exceptionally well made. It makes us feel important. We must be a better artist, because we have better tools.
Most photographers are familiar with mega-pixel lust and/or lens lust. We “need” the latest technology breakthroughs, the highest scoring products. They will improve our photography, right? Well, sometimes. But probably not by themselves.
One of the ongoing lusts I fight is the desire to move to a medium format system.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Medium format
Camera systems have always been characterized by the size of the recording medium they expose. In film it was 8×10, 5×7, 6×6 cm, down to 35 mm. Digital systems tended to smaller formats, because of the cost of the sensor chip. For a long time, the 35 mm “full frame” sensor was king. Other lower cost sizes also became common, like APS-C, micro 4/3, etc.
Of course, there are many other contenders. Polaroid made a few huge sheets. There were 11×17 cameras. Others, especially in digital, range down to microscopic cameras small enough to fit unobtrusively in a pair of glasses. And don’t forget the tiny sensors in your phone, probably the most used cameras in the world today.
The cameras in the slot between 5×7 and 35 mm are called medium format.
Brave adventurers in the digital world decided to push digital larger than 35 mm. Their goal was to recapture the detail and mystique of legends like the Hasselblad 6×6 cm or Mamiya 6×4.5 cm medium format systems.
These huge sensor chips are a strain on semiconductor production. They are very expensive because the yields are low for such a large chip, and the production volume is small. But makers like PhaseOne, Hasselblad, and Fujifilm persisted and developed successful products, and the results seem to be spectacular.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Advantages
I do not speak from first-hand experience. Only from extensive research and reading. From what I can determine, the medium format digital systems are a marvel of image quality, with tangible and intangible properties that cannot be matched by 35 mm full frame cameras.
One obvious thing is that the larger sensors have a larger number of pixels. Typical medium format cameras have 100 MPixels, compared to 60 for the highest resolution full frame camera today.
But it is more than just number of pixels. The larger sensors allow larger pixel sites. This means each pixel gathers more light and each pixel has lower noise, greater dynamic range, and better color accuracy. Medium format lenses are also generally higher quality than 35 mm ones.
Overall, the whole system is high quality all the way through. This leads to files that can be printed at huge sizes with astounding detail and color.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Disadvantages
Of course, these advantages do not come for free. Everything must scale up physically with the sensor size. This makes the cost of all the components, including the sensor and lenses, go up exponentially.
Larger also means heavier. In a studio that is not a concern. But I shoot only outdoor, and I lug my equipment wherever I go. Heavy is bad. Big is bad. Medium format is both.
I indicated that the lens sizes must scale up for medium format. The lens must create a larger image circle to cover the larger sensor. This not only makes them heavy and expensive, but the physics of lens design and the small market limits the practical ability to make wide range zoom lenses. So, currently, something like a 35 mm equivalent range of 28 mm to 75 mm is about the best that is common for a medium format zoom. Other sizes are available, but nothing like the “super zooms” we love in full frame cameras. Medium format wide angle lenses are much easier to make and more common.
Underlying all of this is the sheer cost of the system. Buying into a medium format system with a reasonable selection of lenses can add up to 10’s of $1000s. Much more if you decide to go with PhaseOne. Do I want medium format or a new car? Medium format or a luxury anniversary trip to Europe?
Reality
The reality is that the medium format system currently is too big and heavy, it is too expensive, and I can’t get the type of lenses I want to use. At least, this is true for my value system.
My old body wants to shed weight I must carry, not add to it. Less is more when I am out for hours at a time. I seldom even carry a tripod anymore.
The “mainstream” camera companies like Sony, Cannon and Nikon have done a great job of improving their full frame products. To the point where it is a hard decision to make the jump. Yes, I’m sure it is true that if I did an A/B comparison between my Nikon and a Hasselblad 100 MPixel I would agree that the Hasselblad was better. But maybe not better enough for my needs.
Cost seems obvious. I am not earning enough from my photography to justify the huge increase in cost. I would have to rationalize it on factors other than cost, and I can’t right now.
But for me, an overriding factor right now is lens availability. This is a very individual decision point of view. I have become a photographic minimalist. I don’t like carrying extra lenses and I don’t like changing lenses in the field. One simple reason, besides fear of dropping one off a cliff, is that I get far fewer dust spots on my sensor if I do not change lenses outdoors.
I have adopted much of my vision around my marvelous Nikon 24-120 mm Z lens; it covers 98% of my needs. To the extent where my attitude now is that if this lens does not work, I will move to get the shot or make a different shot. I have made several multi-week trips now, taking only one camera body and one lens. It has worked great for me. No regrets. I can’t yet do this with a medium format system.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
No compelling need
I would love to use medium format. Just the sheer quality of the output would almost be worth it. Looking at the detail of my images at 1-to-1 on my monitor is a joy right now. I’m sure the joy would be even greater for a medium format image.
But I understand the reality of my life is that I am not called on to make billboard sized prints where you could put your nose up to it and marvel at the detail. I am not required to do portraits that have glowing, lifelike skin tones and shading when printed life size.
Would I like to be able to shoot like this? Of course. We always long for the best tools, the next technology bump. But the cost is so great I cannot justify it.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, Nikon has satisfied my basic needs with a high quality 46 MPixel sensor in a small mirror-less body, coupled with small, lightweight, high-quality lenses that meets my expectations. These cover my real-life needs. I can’t justify the change just for my ego.
Canon and Sony also cover those needs with excellent products, but I am a long-time Nikon user.
As of right now, there is no medium format system in my plans. It could change, but there is a high barrier to climb. I hope Nikon jumps their full frame system to 100 MPixel before I give in and take the plunge.
October 15, 2025
If No One Ever Saw It
Would you still take this shot if no one ever saw it? The answer to that can tell us important things about our goals and motivation.
There are many reasons for shooting images. I am focusing on “serious” pictures. Not just selfies or simple travel pictures or sunsets. Rather, ones where we are motivated to put our best effort into it because it is important to us. Where we are trying to create something lasting.
Shoot for hire
Some photographers are hired to create images for a client. It may be commercial photography or weddings or other things. but the result is that you will shoot images as specified by the client. They expect to see most if not all of the shoot.
This is a good way to earn money and build a reputation. If you can impose some of your style and personality on the result, it can also be a creative outlet. But ultimately, the client dictates.
In the context of this article, the point is that the client expects to see most of your shots. They will pick the ones they want to use.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Shoot for a competition
Sometimes we shoot for a competition. Whether it is International Photographer of the Year or your local camera club monthly contest, the process is generally the same.
We probably are given a subject or genre to focus on. We may have a deep catalog of relevant images to choose from, or we may go out and shoot specifically for the contest.
But ultimately, we will have to go through the painful process of deleting all except the one (or 5 or 10, depending on the contest) that will be submitted. Then it will be judged and, hopefully, shown to the “world” as a winner.
The point is that this is an outward focused process. The result of the exercise is to carefully present our star image to the world to compete. Sometimes we even study past winning images and the judges to try to game the system and give ourselves an edge.
The goal is to win in a public arena. Maybe at the expense of what we really like best.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Shoot for exposure
Many believe the siren song of “likes”. That lots of clicks, comments, and followers makes us a “real” artist, maybe even important.
I am having to talk here from what i have observed. I do not personally participate in this. Sorry if I overstate it.
I will just ask what has that social media presence earned you, versus what it has cost you? Becoming well-known and widely followed, maybe even becoming an ‘influencer”, is usually a long process with lots of time and effort. It involves learning the algorithms used by your social media channels of choice and trying to optimize for them. Maybe this involves conforming to the type of work that is popular with their viewers. The things that usually get “likes’.
This may not be the work you resonate with. Perhaps your real creative work is unpublished.
Keeping up with this takes a lot of time and may involve bending our artistic vision to the popular taste du jour. I can see that if you are a commercial photographer this might be a way to get visibility and some new clients. But I do not play this game. It is not worth it to me.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Shoot for ourselves
Or, if you are very lucky or strong minded, you decide to shoot primarily for yourself. You are the audience who matters.
It is hard to get rich or famous like this, so why would anyone choose to do it? Well, I believe that comes down to our goals, our personality, and our situation.
Is your goal to be famous and, maybe, rich? Or is it to satisfy some creative need within? I shoot to fill that creative need. I am an introvert. The marketing and self-promotion required to shoulder my way into the mainstream art world is alien to my personality. It is too big a price for me to pay. Trying to do that made my art drudgery, not creative fun. Plus, I am very lucky and grateful that my situation doesn’t require me to earn my living from my art. At this point in my life, I can reserve it for my personal joy and expression.
I realize that everyone is different and has varying goals and needs. This is just being honest about my motives.
You won’t see it
So, back to the question of what if no one sees it. I think I have established that my primary audience is myself. I’m not trying to make my income from photography, and I do not really care about likes or comments. They are welcome when they happen, but they are not the reason for making an image.
I do share some images with friends and the occasional show entry or online article, like here. Even an infrequent hanging in a gallery. Most of my images are for sale. But I would give a print away to a friend who appreciates it rather than sell it for an insulting price that doesn’t even cover my costs.
And the ones anyone does see just are the tip of the iceberg. I would not show an image I am not proud of. That means only a small portion of the images I shoot might ever be seen.
If I shoot thousands of images but only consider a few of them worthy of being seen, am I a failure? Not in my mind. My standards are high, and I am not motivated to try to get much seen publicly.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Would I shoot it?
Photography is mainly a creative exercise for me. I resonate with the challenge of trying to do something above average with the scene I find. If I am learning and growing and making fresh new work that pleases me, I am content. That is my standard and reason for making pictures. Your mileage may vary.
So, would I take the shot if no one ever saw it? Trick question. I will see it, and I am the audience that matters for my work. Yes, whenever I get the chance, I will shoot it. It may not be a “money” shot. It may not make me famous. But if it excites me, that is what is important.
Note: The inspiration of the phrase “if no one ever saw it” came from Nuno Alves on Medium.
October 8, 2025