Sometimes, photos don’t need to be complicated. You’re on your way somewhere, and you’re struck by a sight that appeals to you. You might not be able to explain why. It just looks pleasant.
Simple Landscape
Photography Doesn’t Need a PhD!
I argued a few weeks ago how serious image-making is similar in many ways to scientific research: photographers, like scientists, must master specialised terminology, analyse minute technical details, and engage in lengthy theoretical discussions to truly understand their craft.
I touched on the opposite argument when mentioning how images are consumed on IG and other social media platforms. But there is a larger argument to be had here: photography shouldn’t require a PhD to be appreciated.
As I mentioned when I started this newsletter, I use writing to argue with myself. And in the case of this discussion, I wasn’t entirely finished. But having the whole argument in a single post would have made it way too long and too complicated. This is essentially part 2 of the argument.
Crovie
I took this photo in Crovie, on the Northern coast of Scotland. It’s a tiny fishing village stuck between a cliff and the sea.
Commute to Work (2002 Edition)
When I was working in an office or at the university, I’d sometimes record my routine in photos. It was before the age of social media, so it was for me only, but I used to take a lot of random photos not knowing anything about how to make them good.
Ode to Boring Photos
Your kitchen counter at 7 AM. Someone’s unmade bed caught in afternoon light. A stranger’s mug collection on open shelving. These images shouldn’t matter. They’re compositionally unremarkable, technically forgettable, and utterly ordinary.
If we really only cared about excellence, these should end up in the bin. Yet to me they’re among the most compelling photographs.
Victorian Lighthouse
I’ve taken a lot of lighthouses in my years because I find their idea insane: build a structure in the most inhospitable places, put a few guards in it, and make them keep the light on. It’s crazy.
This insanity made me go round a lot of the Scottish East coast lighthouses to photograph them.
Become a Good Photographer, Step Three: Sane Obsession
I’ve noticed something about the photography advice floating around online. Everyone talks about finding your “style” or upgrading your gear, but nobody mentions the one thing that actually separates competent photographers from exceptional ones: obsession.
The Colour of 70s Childhoods
I took this picture in October 2006 in Findhorn, Scotland (see previous posts to see more photos from that spot).
Black rock cottage
I used to spend a lot of time on Scotland’s West coast to take photos. The landscape is wild and desolate, nobody is around, a perfect place for photography.
One of my favourite places is Glencoe and Glen Etive. Small mountains, scarce vegetation, crazy weather and midges. It’s also a lot of other photographers’ favourite place. Around Black rock cottage, you can nearly tell where to put your tripod because the rocks have the marks.
But it doesn’t detract from the fact that it’s a great place, full of poetry and character.
Other’s Photographs Are Always Greener
Other people’s photos are always more interesting to me. When I look at other people’s photos, I always find them better made than mine: the technique is better, the composition is better, the tones are better, the colours or contrast are better, the artistic vision is more obvious, they’re more innovative, and the general idea is more interesting.
