Thought also implies the ability to distinguish real creativity from imagined creativity. While any snapshot you take tomorrow has never existed before and may therefore be considered “original”, in the deeper, artistic sense it has surely existed countless times before. To do something that truly has never been done before requires planning, as well as a great deal of personal insight.
EXPERIENCE. This can prove to be a double-edged sword. Experience can and should free you from concentrating on the mundane, mechanical aspects of the photographic process and allow you to concentrate on new concepts, techniques, and approaches. Experience tells you what to expect from most things you’ve done previously, freeing you from concerns with the basics. Yet too often, experience tends to lock you into regular habits and proven techniques, stifling creative potential. Every photographer has to guard against allowing experience to become a means of growing stale.
EXPERIMENTATION. Except in the case of a happy accident, originality doesn’t arrive without experimentation. Nothing new comes from standard ways of seeing or standard ways of using familiar materials. Bear in mind that experimentation runs the risk of failure and that most experiments are dead ends. In recognition (or fear) of this basic truth, photographers shy away from experimentation. You must be willing to try and fail, then try and fail again, and again, and again. This can be frustrating, time-consuming, and costly, but it can also be incredibly rewarding when the experiment yields positive results.
Experimentation can be random or directed. You can work toward improving weaknesses in your existing work or toward expanding your horizons by delving into untried realms. This can take a variety of forms. If your body of work seems too limited, search for new subject matter or new ways of printing or presenting your work. If the quality of your work is not personally pleasing, try new exposure and printing techniques or different materials and chemicals. Even if everything seems pleasing, it’s still important to test new concepts, new combinations, and new approaches simply to avoid stagnation and also to recharge your own batteries.
INNER CONVICTION. I’ve referred to this several times previously as a “gut feeling” that your imagery has meaning beyond its obvious, outward trappings. Inner conviction also means your way of expressing your personal view as you see it, and as you want it seen by others. Many photographers photograph where others have done so previously, yet a different vision marks the newer attempt. Just as each of us has different opinions about any subject, we also see things differently. If you feel your vision of even the most commonplace things is unique, satisfy that inner conviction with photographic expression.
This also implies doing what you want to do, whether or not the value of your work is immediately recognized by others. It doesn’t mean following the trends of the moment or the demands of the public or the critics. It means being yourself and following your inner motivations. It means having a sense of purpose and pursuing it with an honest approach. Today, galleries and museums are filled with work that is new, different, original, and gimmicky. The emphasis on originality has created a near-paranoia among artists and would-be artists to do something different, which all too often translates to something shocking. So a tremendous amount of “different” work is being produced, but much of it lacks personal conviction, insight, or emotion. It uses the materials of art, but it isn’t art. It’s nothing more than an unfeeling response to the demands of collectors, art critics, gallery owners, museum curators, and the like.
I feel that artists who maintain their personal integrity even at the risk of critical rejection are fulfilling the purpose of art more positively than those who produce original work lacking inner conviction. Van Gogh would have quit painting if his inner convictions were not as strong as they were, for his work received no acclaim in his lifetime.
Creativity, then, stems from a complex interaction of many factors. Where it comes from and how any individual can acquire it are equally complex concerns. Some people are more inclined to creativity than others; when it comes to creativity, it’s obviously not true that all people are created equal. Those with intelligence, insight, and an inclination to experiment are likely to be the most creative.
Creativity can be nurtured, if not learned. You have to push yourself to do new and different things; push yourself, but not pressure yourself. There’s a difference, a huge difference. It’s rare indeed when anyone can produce creative work under pressure.
Obstacles to Creativity
Other than inability, there are three basic obstacles to creativity. The first and greatest obstacle is the adamant opposition most people have toward trying anything unusual, strange, wild, different, or new. I hear students of photography talk emotionally about their desire to be creative and then refuse to do anything that breaks with their entrenched patterns of thought and general approach to photography.
The second obstacle to creativity is insufficient time to think about new approaches or to implement them once conceived. Since photography is available to virtually everyone, it’s widely perceived to be an “easy” art form. In one sense, it is easy to make decent slides, negatives, and digital files; it’s also easy to send them to the lab for processing or put JPEGs on the computer for friends and relatives. With a little more difficulty, you can make your own prints with excellent technical quality. But it’s not easy to produce photographs with personal insight, unique vision, and meaningful expression. If you’re attempting to make art via the medium of photography, you need adequate time to reflect on the many characteristics of a successful photograph, and on the creative possibilities of changing one or more of the variables in order to produce a significantly different image. It’s nearly impossible to do this on a part-time basis.
Many people who wish to be creative don’t lack the ability; they lack the time. But then again, if they had the time, would they put in the required effort? Of course, thought can be devoted to photography while engaging in other endeavors (if those other endeavors aren’t too demanding), and those thoughts can be pursued during the time available to photography. This increases the potential for photographic creativity on a part-time basis. Yet I have doubts about the creative possibilities for someone who picks up the camera periodically, or someone who enters the darkroom or gets in front of the screen, keyboard, and mouse infrequently and has no other time to think about the process. While photography may seem to be an easy art form, it’s deceptively difficult.
The final impediment to creativity comes from without, not within. It’s the staunch opposition that the public and the critics throw in front of creative artists when they take off in new directions. Jerry Uelsmann has noted that he’s somewhat “boxed in” with his surrealistic, multiple-print images. He is expected to do that, and he finds resistance to presenting anything other than that. Jay Dusard photographed landscapes for nearly 20 years before producing his exceptional book, The North American Cowboy, A Portrait, in 1983. Since then, he’s been perceived by many as a “cowboy photographer” and has encountered resistance to presenting other work, even landscapes.