Ed Schlotzhauer

An artists journey

Tag: fine art photography

Choose Your Style
Many photographers wonder if they have a style, especially if they are fairly new to the game. Do you ever look at the wonderful work other photographers are publishing and think it would best to choose your style to be like them? Don’t.
What is considered a style?
There is no hard and fast rule that defines what a “style” is. To some, it is the type of subjects you shoot. That is, they see little or no difference between style and genre. Here is another list, longer almost to the point of being absurd, but still talking mostly about what the subject is.
Others refer to photographic style as the effects you use to make your final picture. Our phones have an abundance of them. You can find many sets of “styles” available to purchase for use in LIghtroom Classic or Photoshop. They are mostly shortcuts for making your picture look a lot like another artist’s work.
More advanced authors extend the concept to include not only what you shoot, but how you shoot it..This is starting to get to the point.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
My view
When you look at some famous photographer’s work, can you make a good guess who made the image? That is because they have an established and recognizable style.
In my view, style is not as much about what you shoot as it is about what the final image looks like. This final image is not only a function of what the subject is and how you “treat” it to get the look you want, but how you were thinking about it, and the lens you choose and how you frame and compose and expose it. In other words, your own viewpoint on it.
You have a point of view, the way you see the world around you that is different from anyone else. This determines your style. It comes naturally.
That is why, when you see a print of a grand landscape with superb detail and the blue sky printed almost to black, there is a good chance that is Ansel Adams. When you see another black & white image, but blurred in a long time exposure and overall very dark, it may well be a Cole Thompson. Those things are not certain, but they have a defined style.
Can you copy one?
One of the ways we learn is to copy. It is instructive, and can be fun, to try on the style of famous artists to see if it “fits” us. We may find bits and pieces that we adopt.
But most of the time we will decide soon that that was instructive, but I’m done with it. Maybe we’ll go off to copy someone else for a while.
Ask yourself why you are copying someone else’s style. Is it because you admire their work and want to explore it in more depth? Are you really searching and trying to figure out what your style is? Is it because one is “popular” and you think it will help you to sell more?
I can’t question your motives, but I can predict that you will eventually give up trying to copy a style and settle down to doing your own work. It is hard to just copy. You are faking it. Besides, in a new situation, how would you copy someone if you haven’t seen any similar work they have done?
©Ed Schlotzhauer
How do you develop yours?
In most cases, you don’t. What you do is shoot a lot. Cartier-Bresson said your first 10,000 photos are the worst. I think one of the things he was telling us is that we have to experiment a lot to find out who we are.
Yes, we can copy other people’s styles to see if we can learn anything from them. If we are lucky, we might have good mentor to give us honest feedback. But ultimately, it is up to each of us to figure out who we are as artists.
I believe a style is something we look back on and discover. It is not something we plan to get to someday.
Look in your image catalog
How do we know if we have a style and understand what it is? A good start is examining your image catalog. I am using Lightroom terminology, but it applies to whatever sorting and filing system you use.
I assume you have a system for grading your images. You know which you consider your best. Have you put together portfolios? Small collections of your very best work organized by subject or project or location, for instance. If not, pick out, say, your 50 best images. Be brutal. This is important and you do not have to show them to anyone else.
Now go through them carefully and examine them from the point of view of what they can tell you about your artistic likes and beliefs. Are most of them landscapes? Are they predominantly square cropped or black & white or low key? Can you see that your favorite pictures are typically shot with a certain lens?
What about the subject matter? Are your favorites more likely to be a rusty truck than a portrait? Do you favor highly detailed or very simple? Sharp or intentional camera movement (ICM)? Travel locations or mostly close to home?
There are too many questions to enumerate. The idea is to look at this body of work and figure out who you are as an artist. This is you. This is your style. It certainly does not mean this is all you can do. It is just what you naturally gravitate to.
Now you can stop trying to be someone else and concentrate on developing yourself.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Be who you are
This is a very enlightening exercise. You will probably come away thinking “wow, I have a style!” It can be very hard for us to think about and accept our style. That is just something that other people have. People who are real artists.
But yes, you do have a style. It is unique to you, so there is no need to try to copy someone else’s. Your point of view and values will come through in your images, if you are being honest with yourself.
Here is a recent personal example. I was watching a video by a photographer talking about his style. It wasn’t very interesting to me and I was about to turn it off when he said something that caught me. He said he understands his style to be very simple. He is a portrait photographer and he uses simple lighting, plain backgrounds, and basic head shot poses.
That lit up something in me. I hadn’t considered something like simplicity a dimension of style.
I did the exercise I recommended above and saw clearly for the first time that I like complexity, detail, extremes of color and contrast and action. That is a common thread through many of my favorite images.
What does it mean? Nothing in itself. It is just some insight on my work. But I understand myself a little better now. I will be less surprised when I see I am being drawn to these.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Choose your style
I started with the notion of whether or not we should choose our style. I hope I have established that you don’t really choose your style. Your style chooses you. You can imitate someone else’s style for a while for the education and experience, but ultimately we find ourselves drawn back to what comes naturally to us.
Don’t fight it. Don’t worry about it. Relax. Be yourself.
But to be yourself, you have to continually learn and practice and improve. It is a lifelong quest.
March 12, 2025
The Magic of Silhouettes
We’re all familiar with silhouettes. Do you ever think about why they are interesting? I believe there is a kind of magic of silhouettes.
What silhouettes are
“A silhouette is the image of a person, animal, object or scene represented as a solid shape of a single colour, usually black, with its edges matching the outline of the subject. The interior of a silhouette is featureless, and the silhouette is usually presented on a light background, usually white, or none at all.”
You are familiar with them. You see them often. A featureless black form in a picture. Have you ever thought how something that shows no detail can be interesting?
We know from experience that they happen when a foreground object has a bright light behind it. A simple explanation and they are easy to generate, but that by itself does not explain their impact.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Origin
I love history and finding out how things came to be. I assumed silhouettes have been an artistic technique for centuries. Not exactly. It mainly dates from the 18th century. Cutting portraits out of black paper became a popular and inexpensive art form. It was especially popular for miniatures, small images on lockets and things like that.
You can argue the technique was used by Greeks and others as far back as 7 to 8 centuries BC on some of their pottery. Perhaps it is possible to include some even older cave art. But as far as I could find, there was no name given to it back then and the technique seems to have fallen mostly out of practice until the 18th century.
Here is a piece of nerd interest that will be of absolutely no use to you, but is an intriguing part of our history. The word “silhouette” is not an artistic or technical term. In 1759 Étienne de Silhouette was the French Finance Minister during the Seven Years War. The country’s finances were hard pressed and he had to institute a lot of unpopular austerity measures. So much so that people began to use the term “silhouette” to refer to things done cheaply.
This was the same time period (18th century) when paper cutouts were becoming popular for portraits and the name transferred and stuck. Silhouettes were an inexpensive art form. It fascinates me that no one remembers Étienne de Silhouette, but we use his name all the time without realizing it.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Why are they interesting
But that still leave open the question of why they are interesting. Just being black does not make it interesting. Being featureless would seem to make them less interesting, not more. Why do they catch our interest?
They are somewhat different from what we normally see, but that should not in itself be enough to make them special. There are a lot of “gimmick” techniques that photographers and other artists use to try to catch our interest. Generally these fads do not have staying power and fade out as quickly as they appear.
I believe there is something fundamentally important and intriguing about silhouettes that catches our attention and has lasting power. There seems to be something about them that captures the essence of a subject.
Less is more
Less really is more sometimes. This is particularly true in photography, where our super megapixel sensors capture lots of information and detail. We can confuse our viewers with too much detail. I generally love lots of detail, but the subjective experience we want to present is more important than technical details.
A silhouette is an exercise in simplicity. We remove all information about a subject except its outer form. The way our marvelous brain works, this is usually sufficient for us to recognize the object.
But even though we recognize it, it is presented in a completely different form. With no interior detail we only have its outline. We are left to guess what is in the big, black, featureless area in the middle of it.
And we do. We fill in the blanks. Based on our experience, we “know” what is in that shape. But still, the mystery remains and we perceive it different. We see it in a new way.
It is an exercise in simplicity and minimalization. Absolutely nothing except the information about its shape.
Similar to black & white
In some respects silhouettes are related to black & white photographs. They often are presented in black & white. I believe there is a reason for this beyond just the big black area.
The beauty of black & white is that it removes all color from the image. Color is the most powerful visual sense. We tend to see it first. It can overpower everything else.
But when the color is removed, we more fully perceive the shapes and tonal relationships that are there. The image is transformed into a different art form, giving us an altered way to see it.
Silhouettes are like that, but with an emphasis on just the shape of the isolated black forms. The shapes become the subject of the image. There is generally no tonal range in the silhouetted object, just form.
So, although silhouettes are often made as black & white images, that is not required. It is often preferable to leave the color information in the rest of the image to emphasize the difference of the silhouetted objects and to draw more attention to them.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
The featured image
The image featured at the top of this article illustrates some of these points. This was taken in a field on a tiny, nameless back road in northeast Oklahoma. I doubt if I could find it again.
I chose to make both the foreground and mid ground black. Everything that is black is featureless black silhouettes. But there is no problem at all knowing what they are. Adding interior detail would not have improved the image. I could argue that it would have weakened it. It is the exterior shapes we see.
And this is a case where I felt that preserving the color of the background helps set the context and emphasize the shapes of the foreground. I believe the color adds to the mood.
March 5, 2025
Acceptance
Some people are detailed planners for a shoot. Some go out with an attitude of acceptance, ready to work with what they find. Which is best?
Planning can achieve great results
Some people love planning and are good at it. I will totally admit that there are occasions where it is necessary and appropriate.
Chris Weston (sorry, this is a subscription site; I asked, but they could not provide a way for me to give you access to this lesson for free) tells of a time on assignment when he had a very special shot in mind. Lions hunting at night under the stars. By planning it out in detail, even sketching the final shot, he knew what lens to use, how many flashes to use and where, where to set up, and what direction to aim the camera to get the milky way positioned as he wanted. It worked and he got his desired shot. But even then it took 6 days. Not because it took many tries to get it, but because he had to wait for the new moon so the stars would be optimum.
It was a unique and interesting shot. I applaud his persistence and hard work. Yes, and even his planning. But it is not the way i work. I don’t do National Geographic or book assignments where a certain result is needed. I accept the scene I’m given and try to make it the best I can.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Not negative
Acceptance may be a negative word to some people. It could imply a type of fatalism. A form of low standards and values, where you are willing to settle for anything. Like, you are not worthy. Or you are not the kind of person who should expect to receive good things. Or maybe it’s not worth trying for something better. Poor me. Eeyore.
Don’t go there. I encourage you to take a different meaning. View acceptance as a kind of peace and contentment. In the context of photography, I mean it to be a mindful encounter with our subject or scene. One where we are willing and able to look at it honestly and evaluate it for what it is. Once you accept it, you can more fully see its story. You might discover something unexpected. And you are free to reinterpret it according to the story you want to tell with it. But it is important to get our biases out of the way first.
Seeing it for what it is releases us from assumptions and expectations that could hold us back. We see the flaws, but also the possibilities.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Acceptance gets more results
I hear people complaining about not getting the great shot they had planned because conditions were not what they anticipated and planned for. Some astronomer friends of mine spent a year planning a trip around a solar eclipse. When they got there, it was cloudy. There was nothing else they wanted to photograph. That is sad. I empathize with them, because it has happened to me.
I sometimes still go out with expectations in mind. That is a trap, but it is natural and I’m not immune. For example, it being winter here as I write this, I went out shooting today with images in mind of nice ice shapes along the river. Well, it snowed a couple of days ago and most of the ice is covered up. And it is warmer today and some of the ice has melted. Not what I had in mind.
Having a fixed expectation in mind is like a filter. Our mind obediently screens out everything else that is not what we are looking for. So we are disappointed because we did not see any good picture possibilities.
But there’s a different reaction we can take to a situation like this. We could say to our self “Bummer, the conditions I wanted are not there. But let’s see what is there and what I can do with it.” I believe if we take a mindful attitude we can discover new points of view, even on an iconic scene.
Accept what you see and make your images to the highest level of quality you know how to do. Compose each frame as if it was the most important image you have ever shot. It might be.
And peace
A hidden benefit of having an accepting attitude is that it can bring us peace and joy. Rather than getting frustrated and walking away we can launch into a productive session exploring what we discover. We turn disappointment into joy and contentment. Most likely, we come away with unexpected images we like. Some may even make it into our portfolio.
Happiness springs from a clear-minded engagement with the present moment
Gary Buzzard
Changing our attitude and turning a disappointment into a joy is a good thing. Even if the pictures aren’t great, isn’t the good feeling worth it?
This is a benefit I don’t hear talked about for mindfulness. When we are mindful, we are looking for the opportunity, the good, the fresh. That is beneficial to our life and attitude.
And we can get some interesting pictures.
So is detailed planning or spontaneity best? That’s up to you. It depends on your personality and your needs. But whichever you choose, I recommend keeping a mindful attitude of acceptance. You will enjoy yourself more and discover some new images you did not have in mind.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Today’s image
This is an example of lemons to lemonade. We were on top of Mount Washington. I guess it was fairly typical weather for there. Completely socked in by clouds. So windy we could barely stand up. Not good photography weather.
We were going to walk the last few feet up to the top, but conditions were so bad that I decided to not even to take my camera. Then I saw this, ran back to the car – still close luckily – got my camera and was only able to get this one shot.
I don’t know the story. I don’t understand why it is happening. And still, years later, I wonder about it. If you know of a reason to have the dog hung on his back, please let me know. But it is one of those images i remember.
Side note: after that, I took the camera to the top. The clouds broke for moments and I got some shots I liked. Don’t ever leave your camera behind.
February 26, 2025
If You Were There
One “rule” I hear about expressiveness is “is this creative, or is it the same picture anyone would take if they were there?” I struggle with this. Should I care what picture you would take if you were there?
Obvious
I think I understand the intent of this phrase. Most pictures are fairly obvious. At least, to the photographer.
You come out at tunnel view in Yosemite, stop, and shoot the scene you see. You are doing the same thing and getting basically the same picture thousands of other people do every day.
Obvious and uncreative. Yes, that is judgmental, but it is very difficult to get creative with such an iconic scene.
As we grow in our artistic journey, we should try to avoid doing the simple and obvious thing. We should find something fresh and creative to add to the image. But at a famous icon location, good luck. It has been shot in every light and every weather.
You might catch an eagle flying by in the foreground carrying a large fish, just as a storm breaks allowing a majestic sunbeam to light up the scene. That would stand out. Some. But wouldn’t anyone else there shoot it, too?
I don’t see you
But here’s one of the things: I didn’t see you there when I was shooting most of the images I like best. Maybe you chose not to be out in the sub-zero cold, or not in a remote location where few people go. I didn’t see you embarrassing yourself too, shooting photos out the window of any of my recent flights. You weren’t around when I was in the junkyard looking for interesting rusty old trucks.
How broadly do I interpret the “if you were there” question? Do I question what a dozen other photographers would have done if they were magically transported to where I am now? I think that the fact that they are not here is significant.
Perhaps it means that what I choose to see and give significance is part of my unique style. What I am drawn to by my own particular mindfulness.
A fact is that there are seldom any other photographers around me when I am shooting. I guess few people care about the things that call to me.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
On a recent trip to France we did some short tour groups part of the time. Sure, I would look at what the guide is talking about, maybe even shoot a couple of pictures to remember it. But I found myself wandering off on side trips. The light is great over here. Look at the scene down this side street. That window is interesting. Look at this ancient stone work. Occasionally I would lose the group completely and have to go try to find them. Luckily for me my wife would sometimes come looking for me. I would hate to be a guide with me in the group.
My point is, no one else was tagging along on these side trips. It was just places and things I was being drawn to. No one else. If people had followed me, they likely would have shot some of the same things I did. But they didn’t seem to be called to do that.
I don’t know what you would do
Another, even bigger factor, is that I cannot predict what you would shoot, even if you were there. It has become obvious to me that I am drawn to some things most other people would ignore. And vise versa.
If you were flipping through my portfolios you would likely be thinking to yourself “that’s weird; I wonder why he shot that”. Even if I was shooting at a location you were familiar with, you probably would say “I didn’t see that, or if I did, it did not register with me as being a picture.”
The point being that a significant part of our personal style is our vision – what we are drawn to. What we are mindful of. Some things seem to jump out to me. Other things jump out to you.
This is one of the reasons I don’t trust the test of “if you were there, would you shoot the same picture?” We have different interests and values. If you were standing right beside me, you may well chose to not shoot at all. Rather, you would probably get engaged by something off to the side that I ignored.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Expressiveness
We are told that we have to add our own expression, our own point of view and feelings to distinguish our images. While I believe this, I also don’t believe it is something to worry too much about.
If we are an artist, we have a burning need to express our view. Just do it.
Fall in love with every frame. You are taking the picture because you love it, right? If that is genuine, it will come through. Never try to fake it. You should not have to.
If you are an artist, you make images that express your feelings and beliefs, or at least, what interests you in a scene. If you are a businessperson, you take pictures that you calculate will make the most money. Some of us are a mix of both. Only you can set your own goals.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Do my own thing
So I plan to bumble along on my own path, not worrying about what other photographers may or may not do. One reason is that there seldom are any around. Another is that I believe I have a different viewpoint and value set than them.
I’ll be the guy you see stopped along the road shooting a picture of who knows what. I’ll be the geek shooting out the window of the airplane, even at night. You may drive by and see me wandering around out in a snowstorm.
Anything that interests me is fair game. It is the dead of winter as I write this. Today I shot up through patterns of snow on a grid what was part of a sign above a sidewalk. I shot ice patterns forming along a river. Some majestic old Cottonwood trees silhouetted against storm clouds drew me in. I did not see a single other photographer. Not even someone using a cell phone camera.
If you were walking with me, would you have seen these things? Even if you did, would they interest you enough to shoot them? In the cold?
Maybe. Maybe not. I’m not going to bother worrying about what interests you. I have trouble keeping up with what interests me.
I hope you do, too.
February 19, 2025
It’s Just a Camera
That piece of technology we use to make images, it’s just a camera. Not magic or sentient or automatic. It still needs someone to take the picture.
Brushes
I really like my camera. It is a good tool to use to make images I like. When I’m in the field, my camera is the vehicle for my creative expression.
Have you ever had someone look at one of your pictures and say “Wow, you must have a great camera”? Or see you taking pictures and say “You must be a professional, since you have a big camera.” I have. Many times. Now, I basically just smile and go on.
But if you see a painting hanging in a gallery, who looks for the artist and tells them “Man, those must be some great brushes you have.” Or, seeing a nice wood carving, tell the sculptor “you must have some really sharp chisels”.
The public has a tendency to attribute a good photograph to the camera more than to the photographer. Being a piece of technology, somehow there is the implication that the camera somehow made the picture.
As artists, we should not encourage this attitude.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
A box
At it’s most basic, a camera is a box that keeps out light. The name comes from “camera obscura”, which was a dark space, often a room, with a small opening to let in light. This caused an inverted and reversed image to be projected on the back wall. It is believed this technique has been used since 500 BC.
The first “modern” cameras were wooden boxes that had a lens on one end and a holder for coated glass plates on the other. This is how many great historical photographs were exposed.
They have certainly become much more sophisticated now, with auto focus, camera shake compensation, exposure measurement, ability to automatically set exposure parameters, etc. Too much to list. The user manual for my Nikon Z7 II is 823 pages. Astounding, but it still doesn’t take the pictures. At it’s most basic, it is still a closed box to keep light off the sensor until time to record the image.
I appreciate many of the features in modern cameras. They make my art easier and extend the range I can operate in. It is great to have our little “dark spaces” getting smaller all the time. Even to becoming little flat things we can put in our pocket (phone).
I fear there will come a point where we will face some major decisions.
It’s still a tool
Right now our cameras and phones have amazing capabilities. Some of them are just basic technological advances. Some are deemed “AI”. Many of the best features are appearing first in our phones.
The ability to “sweep” our phone across a scene and have it automatically stitch together a panorama is very useful. Face detection is common now and can be useful for some types of work. An interesting feature I have seen is where, when taking a group shot, some cameras actually take many images and pick out and merge together the “best” look for everyone. At least, ones when they are smiling and their eyes are open.
Features like these make shooting pictures less technical and less stressful. Anyone can get “professional” level results. That is probably a good thing. It is an aid.©Ed Schlotzhauer
A coming “revolution”
There are still some of us who want to make the artistic decisions ourselves. Even if it is difficult and requires lots of training. Even if we make mistakes and bad choices. Those don’t matter. It is our art, our decisions, our responsibility. The technology is likely to get a lot more intrusive.
Probably right now most major camera manufacturers and all phone makers have teams of smart people trying to go all in with AI. People who actually believe in it and confidently think AI actually is or will become intelligent. Some who actually think AI can do art.
I can imagine one of the user stories they are working from: “(Camera speaking) Attach the 24-70 lens. It is best for this shot. Move me 34.7 inches left and lower me 9.3 inches. I detect a glare. Attach the lens hood. Place the subject at the Rule of Thirds point I am illuminating in the viewfinder. I will shoot it now and remove the non-subject person traversing the frame. I am also correcting the 3° tilt to the right and the overall color. Done. “
To me, this is a dystopian scene. I do not want to relinquish my artistic vision to anything, especially a machine. I am very willing to use smart tools to assist my work. In-camera features like eye identification and focus tracking can be very handy. On the computer, making it easier to make selections or to remove distractions is useful. But I do not plan to give control over to the camera to make it’s own decisions
Plasticity.
In The Interior Landscape, Guy Tal states
For any medium to be useful to an artist, it must allow a generous degree of plasticity. It must lend itself readily to subjective expression of concepts and feelings originating in the artist’s mind and not just those inherent in or commonly associated with the subject.
Mr. Tal was not referring to AI here, but I believe it applies. An AI controlled camera could probably expose images that would be regarded by most consumers as pleasing. The pictures would be a faithful and well exposed depiction of the subject. Most users would be happy. Unfortunately, the AI could not know the subjective expressions that are in my mind. It cannot know my vision and intent.
Again in The Interior Landscape, Guy Tal states
There are well-established compositional templates knows to impress viewers, requiring only mechanical skills but no expressive intent. Art raises the bar. Art requires from the artist a degree of emotional investment and an elevated subjective experience, as well as the skill to express visual concepts beyond “here’s something pretty,” “look where I’ve been,” or”see how lucky I was”.
I resonate with this concept of plasticity. It gives structure to my desire to create images that are not simply representations of what is there. I want to use the camera and other parts of the technology of photography simply as tools to help me capture what I visualize and feel.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Make art
You might get the impression that I am not a fan of AI. Well, I definitely am not a true believer. It could be a useful tool for some things. One of the big problems is that most people do not understand its limitations, so they believe it is something it is not.
By it’s nature, AI cannot be creative. It is a compendium of what it has been trained on. The output of AI is a statistical prediction of a response given an input. So, at best, it is an average of what it has been given. It cannot think or feel or have inspiration.
I am a human. I do think, get depressed, find inspiration, feel love, and see things in my own quirky way. If those are faults compared to AI, then I readily admit to being deeply flawed. But from those flaws, and all the other strange bits of my makeup, I can create art. Because my art comes from my unique human understanding and viewpoint.
I like my camera. It is a great tool. I have actually read most of the user manual in order to know what features it has and to pick which I choose to use. The reality is that I probably only use, I would guess, less than 20% of its capabilities. That’s OK. It’s a tool, not the center of my attention.
I know that designs have gotten so good that camera manufacturers are up against boundaries of physics. It is easier to add value through new “intelligent” tricks than to expand resolution or dynamic range or reduce noise. AI is a hype magnet and a path of least resistance. I get it.
Who/What is in charge?
But if the next camera I select is bloated with AI features and the price is double because of that, I will pass. I can even envision them wanting me to pay a monthly subscription to use the features in my new camera. If these things happen, my next camera is likely to be an older, used camera with less features but better raw performance and easier manual operation. Yeah, I’m an old curmudgeon. I get to be. I’m the artist in charge.
The camera does not make images. The artist does. It will continue that way for me as long as I have something to say about it. And I do. 🙂
So modern cameras are wonderful tools. I would love to have a new one. But are you an artist or just someone who takes pictures? If you are an artist, do not forget that the camera is basically just a dark box that holds the lens and sensor in the right positions. It is an instrument allowing us to create art. The artistic intelligence is in you. Do not surrender your artistic vision to a machine.
Photography is based on technology more than most other arts. That does not mean the technology makes the art.
“The equipment of Alfred Stieglitz or Edward Weston represents less in cost and variety than many an amateur ‘can barely get along with.’ Their magnificent photographs were made with intelligence and sympathy – not with merely the machines.”
Ansel Adams
February 12, 2025