Those who are excited in a positive sense see the combination print as a creative effort in the finest artistic tradition. Some people never ask where the photograph was taken; they simply respond to the visual image in front of them.
Would anybody ask a painter, “Where did you place your canvas when that painting was made?” Of course not. A landscape painting can be created entirely in the studio. It’s of no consequence. But apparently the question, “Where was it taken?” is important to some viewers of landscape photographs.
I view the photographs in this series as another way of creating a pleasing image, a meaningful image. If, for instance, I did not have the opportunity, the strength, or the courage to get to a particularly rugged landscape with my camera equipment, perhaps I could create an equally rugged scene from two or more negatives in the darkroom. This way I can create a photographic fiction that is as visually exciting to a viewer as a good novel can be to a reader, or a great piece of music can be to a listener. To me, painting, literature, music, and photography are all art forms, and anything that can produce an emotionally fulfilling experience is acceptable. I believe that the question should not be “Where was it made?” or “How was it made?” but “How do I respond to it?”
This two-negative image initially seems real but in fact is utterly strange. It’s based on Yogi Berra’s famous advice, “When you come to a fork in the road, take it”.
Figure 14-5. Corridors
It appears that the main objection springs from my attempts to have the composite image look realistic, i.e., to be derived from a real location in front of my camera rather than two or more real locations in front of my camera at different times and places (Figure 14-5). Surely there is a valid objection here, but evidently the objection is not about the artistic nature of the image but rather the reality of it. Also, I would have to agree that there is an intended deception. I try to make the image appear like a single landscape at a single moment in time, not two or more landscapes photographed at different times and places.
Some people object when I don’t clearly label which images are from one negative and which are from more than one. Apparently if I mix single and multiple negative images together without stating which are which, there is an objection; if I separate them into distinct categories or clearly label them, the objection disappears. Therefore it seems that the objection is not with the imagery, i.e., the artistry, but with the perceived deception of presenting a composite image as a single negative photograph. I can understand that objection, so I will not argue it, nor will I deride those who raise that objection. My defense is that any photograph I produce is a work of art first and foremost. It’s not a “capturing” of a landscape. Because it is a work of art, I don’t believe it’s necessary to explain how it was created, i.e., whether it had extensive burning or dodging or flashing or bleaching, or whether it was made from one or more negatives. In a sense, all of those details are technical. To me, the real question is whether or not the produced image stirs the viewer emotionally. As long as what I’m creating is not blackmailing or damaging someone, I feel it is acceptable.
Note
It may be worth noting that when I showed my composite work to color photographer Robert Glenn Ketchum, he jokingly suggested that I send several of the photographs to a magazine like Outdoor Photographer with an article about the “places” and include detailed directions to the locations! As compelling as the suggestion was, I chose not to fulfill it. But I have to admit, it would have been fun!
I further believe that objections or lack of them stem from the way a viewer initially responds to a landscape photograph. If the image is viewed as a specific place—as “evidence” of a moment in time—then multiple negative imagery is viewed as bothersome, unacceptable, or even a blatant lie. If the image is viewed as a work of art, then it is acceptable. Another objection comes from those who know about my lifelong environmental activism and complain that of all people, I shouldn’t engage in such false imagery. I totally reject that objection, for my art is my art; it has no environmentalist component, except in rare cases (Figure 1-1).
Multiple exposure, photomontage, multiple printing, negative printing, digital manipulation, and all other forms of “non-straight” photographic image making are all valid artistic endeavors. Any of them may be poorly done, but that’s different than the issue of legitimacy. To me, there is no more artistic alteration in a multiple negative image than there is in some heavily manipulated single negative images. As long as the images aren’t used for abusive purposes like those discussed at the start of this chapter, they strike me as perfectly valid, though others may draw the line on validity in a more restrictive manner.
However, you should always keep in mind the basic intent behind your work and use your tools properly and thoughtfully to reach those goals. This is especially true today with digital manipulation. Too many digital practitioners approach applications such as Lightroom or Photoshop the way a child approaches a huge toybox: it’s all there, so let’s play! I regularly encounter alterations (especially when HDR is used) that alter hue and color saturation, or equalize indoor and outdoor lighting to a degree that turns the final image into nothing less than a cartoon, with no logic to the light (i.e., indoor and outdoor light appear virtually equal in value) and no limit to color intensities.
Also, I have seen digital photographers become so comfortable with removing unwanted items (i.e., trash, power lines, vehicles, roads, people, facial blemishes, decayed teeth, etc.) that they soon fail to see the most obvious intrusions or distinguish between good and bad lighting. They feel they can always “fix it in Photoshop”. I believe it’s a bad start for any endeavor—artistic, scientific, business, etc.—to move forward with the idea that you’ll fix it at the end. You’re far better to start out on the right track instead of trying to get there late in the game. Furthermore, I’ve watched digital photographers employ a “shotgun approach” of taking dozens of shots with only minor variations of the same subject with the idea that one of them has to work. I feel it’s better to look first, assess, and then shoot instead of shooting first and looking later.
That said, there are indeed serious photographers, both digital and traditional, who use the available tools appropriately and meaningfully. When photographers get away from thinking, “This is what I can do” and get to “This is what I can say”, photography becomes a more mature interpretive medium.
Each of the topics discussed in this book is presented with the intent of expanding your artistic options and your approaches to creative personal expression. I don’t necessarily want everyone to think about these topics the way I do, but to think about them nevertheless. There are many different approaches to the creation of photographs, and all of them can be legitimate. When used well, they can help photography transcend the realm of mere documentation to become fine art.