Do Photographers ‘Take’ Photographs, or ‘Make’ Them?

Well, this seems like an unnecessary question with a pretty obvious answer, doesn’t it? “Leave only footprints, TAKE only photos,” as the saying goes, makes it fairly clear that photos are “taken”. So there you go, we have our answer; or do we?

Ansel Adams was also pretty clear when he said, “You don’t take a photograph, you make it.” Pinpointing exactly where Adams first might have said this can be problematic, as it is one of his better-known statements and the idea pops up a lot. Needless to say, it was a subject near and dear to his heart, or at least, at the heart of his artistic expression.

I think it’s important to get a clearer picture (see what I did there?) of what Adams meant in order to understand the relative connotations of each term, before we get hip deep into my ramblings on the subject. As I alluded to in my earlier post, “Why Photography?”, to ‘take’ a photo implies a passive action and with that implication comes all sorts of potential baggage. No one ever asked this of a painting, or a sculpture, but by being vulnerable to this question, photography is at risk of its status as an artistic expression also being called into question. This is what Adams was saying; a photographer ‘makes’ a photograph as much as a painter or sculptor makes their art. Photographs are made, because photography is art.

Mt Tam

Now that we have that out of the way, let’s get to my point about the ‘taking’ and the ‘making’ of photos, understanding that I am not calling into question photography’s artistic merits.

So yes, all photographers ‘make’ photographs in that at the end, an image is produced. Whether on film or digitally, a photograph has been crafted by the photographer. But I want to look at this question of ‘taking’ or ‘making’ from the standpoint not of the act performed, but the underlining motive behind it.  That is to say, are an ‘output’ photographer, or an ‘input’ photographer?

By motive I mean, what is your reason for the creation of a photograph? Why do you click that shutter button? I’m not talking about your conscious motive, but the animating force at the core of your being. Are you driven to ‘input’ or to ‘output’? Let me give a little deeper insight into what rabbit hole my brain has scurried off into.

In the simplest terms I can come up with (and at the extreme risk of over-simplifying something I’m not sure really makes sense), there are those among us who get a tremendous sense of satisfaction and accomplishment from building something. Or fixing something, making something, producing something, etc. Again, I’m not referring to what is being produced, but the sense of fulfilment it brings a person. This, for the sake of this post, I will call an ‘output’ person.

At the other end of this hypothetical spectrum is the ‘input’ person. They are at their most content when learning something new (this is me), or exploring a new location or idea (also me). They also produce things, but the motive behind it is different. To be clear, everyone inputs and outputs. You can’t make anything until you’ve learned how to make it, and likewise, information that goes into a brain, eventually comes out of it.

Let’s look a bit more closely at this and how I see it relating to photography.  

“Output”

The ‘output’ photographer gets an idea for an image, so they research locations, weather patterns, and solar and lunar movements to get everything planned. You may have noticed that they have just done an awful lot of ‘input’ for someone I’m referring to as an ‘output’ photographer, but it’s to what this all leads that’s important, a photograph, prominently displayed on the photographer’s easy to build RectangularArea website.

For this photographer, all that planning was worth it because of the photograph produced in the end. For this hypothetical person, the experience has value because of the photograph the resulted from it. But what if the weather hadn’t cooperated and the photographer didn’t get the shot they had planned for? Now all that time spent planning and traveling could potentially be seen as a waste of effort. The input experience only has the value the output image bestows upon it. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’ve been here way too many times.

“Input”

The ‘input’ photographer, scrolling around on Google Earth, discovers some interesting looking place that they’d like to explore. They check the weather so they know how to dress, and when the sun sets so they know whether to bring a head torch (I know I’m American, but I like the sound of “head torch” better). They spend the day exploring the area and taking pictures, and to what does it all lead? A photograph, prominently displayed on the photographer’s affordable CircularVoid website.

For this photographer, that photograph has worth because of the experience it represents. But what if the weather report was wrong for them also, and they got soaked to the bone? Then the batteries in the head torch died forcing them to use their phone to stumble their way back to the car through the darkness. They were able to squeeze off one handheld shot before the rain shorted out something apparently very important in their camera. It’s not a good photo, but it’s their favorite, ever. The value of that image in the eyes of the photographer comes from that miserable experience. They love that photo because of all that went into creating it. The output image gets its worth for the input experience.

Oyster Pots

It may seem from these two sketches that I think ‘input’ photographers and their photography are better than ‘output’. Not at all. I just structured my writing to make you think that. All is not rosy for the input photographer.

Remember that photo they love because of the experience it represents? No one else likes it. Well, there’s those three followers that just “like” everything in hopes of getting attention, and his mom, but does that really count? This lack of affirmation in the ‘input’ photographer’s ‘output’, can lead them to question their own work. It can further lead to a feeling of isolation, that the community of photographers doesn’t accept them. If their photo has no worth in the eyes of their peers, then their experience must not either, and experience is life to an ‘input’ person. So they plan and try harder to produce the kind of image that does get attention, but look upon the popular result of such effort with dead eyes. It means nothing to them because the experience in producing it wasn’t born out of their deepest desire. They lived someone else’s life to create it, and now realize they killed a part of themselves to do so. Or is that just me?

Both photographers seek affirmation. One is internally affirmed by the resultant success of their own effort, the other is affirmed by the gathering of community around the idea their work represents. When either one doesn’t get the desired affirmation. . . well I think we’ve all been there.

Seeking affirmation isn’t bad. Basing our worth on the affirmation received is. The importance is knowing where our eyes tend to drift once that photo hits Instagram, so we can recognize the impending despair before it consumes us.

So, are you an ‘input’ photographer, or an ‘output’ photographer? Why does it matter? It doesn’t really. It only matters that you understand yourself and why you create, so you can be true to yourself. If thinking in terms of ‘input’ and ‘output’ helps achieve this, great. If you think it’s stupid. . . well, you probably stopped reading long before getting to this point.