To improve as a photographer, sometimes, you should stop worrying about what other people are doing and focus instead on what you do best.
Having been writing for this shop for several years now, I already know a few things to be true. One, people love to talk about devices. Two, I hate talking about equipment. Not because I hate the device. But because the underlying implication of most device discussions seems to suggest that the device itself is the driving force behind someone’s artistic success. For instance, not only will shorter flash duration help you freeze the action better. Rather, it’s a false belief that, if you don’t have that uniqueness, you can’t compete as an artist.
If you’ve ever spent more than five minutes in my presence, I’m sure I’ll stray into some unwanted cinematic problem. I am that guy. The guy lives his life at 24 frames a second and brings Citizen Kane into every discussion, relevant or not. In particular, I love classic movies. To me, this usually means movies from the late 1930s, 40s, and 50s. I don’t bring that up to start a debate about the relative quality of filmmaking from the past to the present. But what constantly amazes me about classic movies is how relevant a film can still be felt nearly 100 years after it was made. Good is good. And the quality is not determined by the date of manufacture.
Quality is also not determined by the tools used in the manufacturing process. Technology in the 1930s was hardly what it is today. Not everyone has a powerful 4K device in their pocket all the time. Nobody even knows what autofocus is. And, if you say the word bluetooth, the listener will probably picture a pretty serious dental condition. However, great art was made. Art is still great in 2022. So obviously, it’s not technology that makes great movies. That’s how the story is told.
The more you advance in your career, the harder it is to make a difference for yourself. When you first learn, photography is about craft. You can say you are learning your alphabet. You’re learning techniques to take your artwork beyond just a snapshot to something professional. And for certain segments of the market, this is more than enough to meet customer expectations. Many photographers never make it past this level and go on to have sustainable careers.
But if your ambition is to move up the ranks to get bigger and bigger jobs and fame, just knowing the basic Xs and Os of the tangent triangle will only get you so far. At a certain point, you need to explore art along with craft. You need to dig deep to find out what makes your work different from anyone else who has the money to buy a camera and enough time to master the basics.
This stage in your career is much more difficult to navigate. Unlike basic exposure techniques that have been firmly established since photography was discovered, finding your own personal voice is up to you. Sure, you can get other people’s opinions. You can listen to others talk about why they find their work important. But only you can determine what gives your voice a unique tenor. And while that sounds simple. After all, you take pictures. You would think that you would also always know the thoughts and feelings behind each of them. It’s not always as easy as it seems.
Sure you like a certain kind of photography, but why do you like it? Yes, you are attracted to objects that light up that way, but why? What are you trying to say with your work? And why is what you have to say more valuable to the prospect than what others are saying to their own work? Whoever you are, you can bet it’s pretty safe that there are a million and one other photographers in the world who can match your technical grasp. You can even make a fair bet that they can also access the same device you have. But what they can’t match is your life experience. They can imitate you. But they can’t be friends. So the first thing you have to do when developing your art style is to ask a fundamental question. Who I am?
Where do I even start?
The best way to start defining your artistic voice is to remove art completely from the equation. As a human being, what are you interested in? Not just what you want to photograph. But at the cellular level, what kinds of objects, people, and activities capture your attention? My own unique position in the active clothing fashion market is not based solely on a love for that genre of photography. Rather, it’s because, in addition to my art, I’m a fitness enthusiast. I simply love the workout (even if my aging knees might feel different). Fitness is a world that I will be a part of regardless of whether I am a photographer or not. So being able to do my actual work as a photographer and director in a segment of my life that I enjoy being a part of means that I often don’t find myself in a world that I want to be in. As they say, doing what you love for a living means you’ll never have to work a day in your life. Figuring out what interests you beyond art, then finding a way to combine those two distinct elements can help you find meaning in your work, not simply whether you make a beautiful painting. No.
Dive into the numbers
Our minds can play tricks on us. As smart as we can think of ourselves, our minds can always find a way to be smarter. We think we have it all figured out. Essentially, however, our minds may have simply convinced us of one path to protect us from taking another, riskier path that could ultimately be beneficial. than. Part of the brain’s job is to protect us. Even from ourselves. But defending yourself isn’t always the right course of action when it comes to growing as an artist. We have to trust our instincts. But sometimes it’s helpful, as one former politician said when discussing an opponent, “trust, but verify”.
Fortunately, if you’ve been shooting for any length of time, you’ll have more than enough data to go on. No doubt you think you like shooting a certain way or using certain lenses or settings. But is that really true? What can you find if you take a close look at the actual evidence?
I have a habit of reviewing my portfolio to see if I can spot any trends. Right now, it’s easy to get caught up in whether or not I like a particular image I just took. However, after the honeymoon period is over, I often find that the new image, while good in itself, doesn’t quite fit the overall story of my portfolio. Over the years of editing my portfolio, the kind of imagery I’m attracted to has become more and more apparent. What images stick in my portfolio for years and never want to appear. The images I took turned out to be my favorites, but apparently no one else. The lack of feedback might suggest that the image isn’t as good as I thought it would be. But my insistence that it be included may suggest that there is something about that image that says something about the person I want to be as an artist.
A few years ago, I sat down with an art producer to show her my work. She asked me which image I felt best reflected what I wanted to capture out of about 30 images in my book. At the time, I had a specific series of images that I had created for a personal project, located at the bottom of my portfolio. I really love one of the images, despite the fact that it never seemed to be the one the reviewers meant. Surely this particular image is my actual answer to the reviewer’s question. However, since neither she nor most of the reviewers seemed to be drawn to it, I chose instead to define a safer alternative to continue our discussion. After a while, I took that series of photos out of my portfolio. It’s not getting the response I want. So hard as it is, I stopped showing it.
Fast-forward to about five years later, and my voice and art style continue to evolve. I have improved my skills. However, I have also made great strides in honing my artistic voice. I have a much more concrete understanding of what I see as good photography and have less fear in following those artistic principles. As a result, I see my overall portfolio improving (at least in my own opinion). I also found more and more clients that I always wanted to eventually contact me to bid for work.
But another funny thing also happened. A series of photos that I loved, but had dropped from my portfolio years ago, suddenly reappeared. The pictures themselves are still the same. What I discovered, however, was that the type of imagery I was creating and the look and feel I achieved with that series many years ago actually better reflected who I am as an artist than I am. with other pictures in my book at the time. They didn’t play well with my portfolio 5 years ago because I didn’t understand the bigger picture of what I was trying to create with my work. As the rest of my work caught on in style and approach, that series suddenly ceased to be a stylistic exception. Now, that series of photos is completely in line with the other images in my book. In other words, I knew what I wanted a long time ago. I just haven’t had the courage to listen to myself and dive deeper into that style. Five years later, as I have grown as an artist, the previous series reflects my artistic voice as faithfully as the one I created last week. Artistic voices have been around for a long time. I just didn’t listen to it.
When you think back to your own work, what are the themes that constantly haunt you? I was listening to a speaker the other day, and she made a great point. She says that trying to let go of what you really want in life, often out of fear that you won’t be able to get it, is stupid. The things that really light our fire are the foundation of who we are. And trying to ignore those desires will only lead to unhappiness and failure because, at your core, you will always be fighting the urge to fulfill that deeper ambition. You can choose another art option that you think is more practical. But there will always be a voice, perhaps in your subconscious, that will prevent ultimate happiness because it knows what you really want. Even if you’re too scared to say it.
Finding your unique artistic voice is an ongoing process of finding what works for you. It’s about figuring out why the art of photography or filmmaking is important to you. And find ways to incorporate that unique perspective into your work. Find your voice has nothing to do with the type of camera you’re using or any of the photography trends currently popular on social media. Finding your unique artistic voice is no less than finding yourself. Like most things worth having in life, it won’t be an easy task. But getting to know yourself is one of the most valuable journeys you will ever begin.
