Polaroid Week 2021: What Makes Polaroids So Fun, Anyway?

I love Polaroids.

Not a shocking statement if you’ve spent even 5 minutes around me or browsed this site or my Instagram, but it is a statement I like to make as often as possible.

But, why do I love Polaroids so much? What makes Polaroids so fun, anyway?

For me, what makes them great is the physicality of them. Up until the recent resurgence in popularity of Polaroid and Instax prints, no one was really printing images anymore; everything had moved to digital platforms, like computers and cell phones, and the feeling of holding images in one’s hands was largely bygone. Currently, there is a shift toward printing again, and a lot of this has to do, again, with the popularity of Instax and Polaroid cameras that has taken place due to the nostalgia of the late 90’s/early 2000’s taking over popular culture. Polaroid is making new cameras that combine the basic controls of older cameras with smartphone apps that give the user even greater control of their image creation, while continuing to restore and stock vintage cameras and the film to go with them; Fujifilm makes Instax cameras that range from very basic to quite advanced, much in the same way Polaroid does, and these two companies combined have seemingly recaptured the public’s love for instant film and physical images.

Okay, that’s all well and good, but that doesn’t quite answer the question — what makes them fun?

For me, what makes them so fun is the seemingly endless ways I can create using such simple cameras. I have two vintage 600-type cameras, and neither uses advanced controls of any kind; there is a slider you move to the left when it is dark, or to the right when it is bright, and two trigger buttons — one to fire the flash, and one to take a photo sans flash. This is a stark contrast to the full-manual modes I shoot with on my Nikons, and, somehow, the simpler controls give me a greater creative edge, because I can’t rely simply on the camera to do all the work. Suddenly, composition becomes much more important, and imperfection becomes the usual and preferred aesthetic. Also fun for me is the fact that I can take each individual image and put them together to tell a greater story about my life than a singular images ever could — the power of collage is not to be underestimated with such small, seemingly mundane images.

The cool thing about modern Polaroid images is that Polaroid themselves make so many different types of film; you can opt for the classic white frame and color image, of course, but you can also branch out and explore black-and-white options, or make images surrounded by colorful or patterned frames. This, for me, makes them even more enjoyable to shoot, especially as you never know what order your colored or patterned frames will come out in as you are shooting. The experimental nature of the Polaroid combined with a small element of the unknown makes for infinite possibilities and infinite amounts of creative joy, in my opinion, anyway.

Lastly, what makes them so fun is sharing the images with friends, family, and the vibrant community of Polaroid photographers around the world. I have connected with hundreds of Polaroid photographers over the four years I have been shooting them, and have even gotten friends interested in shooting them for themselves. That, to me, is the best part of the whole experience — the community. It is amazing to talk to so many people who, like me, enjoy telling stories with square images that pop out of a camera and develop in 10-15 minutes.

After all, what is the point of making art if you never share it with anyone?

I shoot on a lot of different 35mm cameras, but, if I could choose only one camera to shoot on forever, I would pick my Polaroid 600AF over them all. I never have to worry about getting them developed, I can hold them and show them off to everyone a mere 15 minutes after I’ve shot them, and I have the ability to create in endless ways with a multitude of film colors and frames. There is nothing more fun in the world to me than that.

The Beginning of the End of Entry-Level DSLRs and the Transition to Mirrorless

A few days ago, I opened up Google Chrome on my phone, and I was met with this suggested article: The Death of the Entry-Level DSLR is Upon Us: Nikon Calls Time on the D3500 and D5600.

I was stunned.

There is a huge market out there for entry-level DSLRs, from students buying them for their first photography class to parents buying them to take better pictures of their kids at ball games and other functions than cell phone or point-and-shoot cameras can provide, and, while Nikon is not yet discontinuing the sale of these cameras in the U.S. and other markets outside of Japan, it is clear that, eventually, they will be phased out. It is also clear that, once they are phased out, they will not be replaced.

For the past three years, Nikon has shifted their focus to the mirrorless market, and they are set to continue to do so as they are facing a huge $720M loss this financial year. Mirrorless cameras are seeing a surge in popularity as more companies are adding mirrorless cameras to their lineups, an, from this standpoint, I can see why Nikon would want to focus on them; their Z-series is popular with the market, and they have to do what is profitable (and, to be fair, they say this measure is only “temporary” while they recoup their losses — we shall see).. I have seen theories floating around within the community that Nikon will eventually create an entry-level mirrorless system to add to their lineup, and while I think this is a much-needed addition (the lowest-end mirrorless system Nikon offers starts at $860 US, which is $250 more than the advanced-entry D5600 and $350 more than the entry-level D3500), it still does not, in my mind, replace the need for entry-level DSLRs.*

• *Here is a link to an article describing the difference between DSLRs and mirrorless cameras. I did not want to move on before I described the terminology being used, and, well, someone has already done that for me, so there you go.

As I mentioned previously, the market for entry-level DSLRs is that of amateurs — people wanting cameras to take photos of their kids, people picking up photography as a hobby, people wanting to learn photography, and students (this is not an exhaustive list, but you get the idea). Most of these people cannot afford to jump in and spend a small fortune on a camera and a few lenses, and thus will go with an entry-level crop-sensor camera to fulfill their needs (in the world of Nikon, these crop-sensor models are their DX models). Nikon will continue to make their other, more expensive crop-sensor cameras (the popular D7500 starts at $1000 US, while their flagship DX model, the D500, starts at $1500 US), but these are not “budget” models, and this means people will have to look to other camera companies, such as Canon, to get what they want.

As a student, I went with Nikon because a) I had a Nikon point-and-shoot camera I loved (still have it, still love it 8 years later) and b) when I was doing my research, I found that Nikon put better glass in their lenses than Canon, plus I liked Nikon’s color-grading straight out of the camera more than I liked Canon’s (Nikon leans more green, Canon leans more blue — I will make a separate guide to choosing a digital camera later on, which will cover this in detail). I also loved that Nikon’s lenses were backward-compatible, which meant I could put a lens from the 1950’s on my mid-2010’s camera and it would still work, albeit without modern features such as autofocus and vibration reduction; this is huge, as you cannot do this with a Canon, since they changed their lens mount when switching from film to digital, and, since I also shoot film on a Nikon F5, it means a lot to me that I can use any of my lenses on either of my cameras and they will work without the need for a mount adapter. I am so passionate about this that, if someone asks me what I recommend as far as digital cameras are concerned, I always tell them to go with a Nikon from the D3000 or D5000 lines, and I lay out for them all of the reasons I just laid out for you, especially if I know they are taking a photography class that also has a film component and they are planning on picking up their own film camera as well. However, this will be more difficult, if not impossible to do once Nikon ends the sale of these entry-level cameras, because none of the people who have asked me this question thus far have $1000, or even $860, to drop on a camera.

Another reason this is particularly disadvantageous to students is because most photography classes teach the art of photography using traditional DSLRs, as mirrorless systems are too new to be mainstream enough to be taught on. Until there are better, less expensive mirrorless options out there, I don’t see the transition to mirrorless happening in the classroom any time soon.

This is not me saying that mirrorless cameras are bad; in fact, I fully intend on upgrading to a full-frame mirrorless system sometime in the future, as I believe these cameras are perfect for the kind of photography I am into. However, if Nikon is successful in this venture, this could lead the way for other companies, like Canon, to do away with their entry-level cameras, in much the same way Apple has taught other cell phone companies that they can do away with features, such as headphone jacks, on their phones, or computer companies that they can do away with ports on their laptops and force everyone to use dongles for every basic need (bitter, much? You know it’s all true). The other issue I see here is that, often times, the brand a photographer learns on is the brand the photographer sticks with, and the discontinuation of these entry-level DSLRs will lead to those who would have bought these cameras to another brand that does have entry-level models, thus shutting out an entire group of people who, over time, would have continued to grow their Nikon collection, which, in turn, would have created future profit for the company. Just a little food for thought.

For now, we will have to wait and see. It will likely be another couple of years before Nikon pulls the D3500 and D5600 off of the market completely, and hopefully by that time we will see an entry-level mirrorless system or two taking their place.

I know this is not one of my better or more exciting posts, but I wanted to put my opinion on the matter out there, as getting people into photography is a huge passion of mine, and limiting people’s options for getting into photography is not. I promise I will be back on a fun topic next week, but, for now, let me know how you feel about this weird transitional period Nikon is in.

See you next Friday!

Cell Phone Photography: One Week, 5 Images, a Whole Lot of Thoughts

I am something of a snob when it comes to the tools I use to make a photograph. As in, I have never believed in making artistic photographs with my cell phone camera. Sure, it’s always there, in my pocket or my bag or in my hand, and sure I use it for selfies or to take quick snaps for Facebook or Snapchat, but I do not truly regard these as works of art. For art, I use my Polaroid cameras or my Nikon or any other camera except the one in my phone. Even when I was purchasing my iPhone last April, I scoffed (in my head) at the salespeople trying to get me to buy a phone based on its picture-taking capabilities because, duh, I’m a photographer — I have cameras to take photos with.

This week, however, I decided to experiment with using my run-of-the-mill iPhone 11 to create photographs that fit into my artistic catalogue. Before starting, I set up a couple of parameters: first, I confined my photo-taking to my bedroom; second, I forced myself to use only the basic editing software that comes with the Camera app. I felt that these two limitations would make the experience more challenging, since my bedroom is an area I am extremely familiar with and, therefore, less excited by, and because I have access to the mobile app versions of Lightroom and Photoshop (arguably better mobile editing software) via my Adobe Creative Cloud subscription. I also decided after shooting the first photo that I would keep everything black-and-white, because color can be distracting, and I wanted the viewer to focus on compositional elements (shapes, lines, etc) instead of the color of the images. Plus, I just like black-and-white photography, alright?

With all of this said, let’s take a look at this week’s photos:

Day 1: Midnight

Day 2: Feast

Day 3: Ground-Level

Day 4: Circles

Day 5: Do You Even Read?

Here is what I enjoyed about using my phone camera:

• It was convenient. This is an obvious perk. My phone is usually near wherever I am, it is lightweight, it does not require an SD card or a battery, and there is no pesky lens cap for me to keep up with. It was also convenient being able to do basic editing right in the Camera app instead of having to upload the photographs to Lightroom, export them to Photoshop… you know, that whole process. It was quick, easy, and simple — enough said.

• I could shoot a variety of angles with ease. One thing about a traditional camera is that they are definitely bulky, which means it can be difficult to shoot certain angles. For example, I would not have been able to get that exact photograph of my hairdryer on the floor with my Nikon or Polaroid cameras, because there would have been no way to get the lenses to go that low to the ground, but with my phone, all it took was sitting on the floor and aligning my phone’s lens into the right position, and I had the shot I wanted. Again, it was convenient, but, more than that, it unlocked a creative option I otherwise would not have had with any of my other cameras.

• I could get close-up to my subjects… without a close-up lens! With a dSLR, I would have needed a micro lens to get some of these shots (such as the shot of my snack), but with my cell phone, I could get within a few centimeters of my subject — and keep the subject in focus — without hassle. Again, it was convenient, and again, it opened up a creative option I do not currently have with my SLR setups.

Okay, you get it — what I enjoyed more than anything about using my phone to make photographs was the convenience of it.

Here is what I did not enjoy:

• The lack of depth-of-field options. I know that some phones to come equipped with depth-of-field options and that this statement does not apply to every phone, but my iPhone 11 does not come equipped with such options, and this, I found, to be a hindrance. Depth-of-field, otherwise known to a layperson as having certain things in focus and the rest blurred, is important to me in terms of digital photography, and I missed it here. For example, in the photo of my hairdryer, the background is distracting because it is not blurred out enough that you cannot clearly make out that there is blocky furniture back there. Annoying.

• Editing. Editing on iOS is, in my opinion, clunky and I straight-up did not enjoy the experience of having to sides-croll endlessly to do a couple of simple edits. Again, annoying.

• It was convenient. “But, wait!” I hear you say, “You just said you enjoyed the convenience more than anything! Now you’re saying you didn’t enjoy it? Which is it!? Did you, or didn’t you!?”

  Okay, here’s the deal: while I did absolutely love the convenience of being able to pull out my phone and do basically everything I would do with my dSLR but on the phone itself, I feel that this convenience is a little too convenient. Yes, some of the convenience of having a more lightweight system that could fit into places my usual cameras could not also meant I had more avenues for creativity; this is, to me, the bright side. The dark side, however, is that, because of this convenience, I wound up taking a lot of really crappy shots because I wasn’t thinking about what I was shooting, I was just shooting random things because it was easy to.

This is my gripe with using only a cell phone as one’s photo-taking device: it is so easy to snap, snap, snap without thinking about what you are taking snaps of. In fact, to me, there is a difference between taking a photograph and making a photograph; taking a photograph is a less deliberate action than making one. When I am out shooting with my dSLR, I feel that I have to make more conscious decisions about what I am doing, because it takes more time to get to the point of pressing the shutter button. I have to take the time to look through the viewfinder, focus the lens, move into just the right position — it becomes an intimate act rather than a passive one. With my Polaroids and Instax photographs, I spend time working out the composition and deciding if the shot is really worth it, because, let’s be honest, the film for those cameras is expensive. With my cell phone, I found that my process and my way of thinking was completely different; with my dSLR I will take a series of photographs, upload them to Lightroom, and let them sit for a day or two before I sit down to look at and edit them. With my cell phone, it was all too easy for me to snap, delete, snap, delete, edit right then and there, and not think about the photos again. The intimacy is lost, and, ultimately, I wind up not caring as much — or even at all — about the photos I am taking.

Here is my takeaway from this experiment:

Shooting portfolio-grade photographs exclusively with my cell phone is never going to be for me. I admit I was biased going in, but actually taking the time to test my theory proved that I was right about myself — I am a little too snap-happy to be able to make good, thoughtful photographs with my mobile device. I need more traditional camera in order to ground myself in my work. This is, perhaps, because I use my cell phone camera mostly for Snapchat, so I associate the action of using my phone’s camera as a lazy one for the sole purpose of being stupid with my friends on social media. Or, perhaps, it is because I see too many other people on social media who use their cell phone cameras in place of a traditional camera and post trite photographs that look — excuse me for being so blunt — just like everyone else’s. Whatever the case may be, using my cell phone as my main camera is simply not the lifestyle I plan to lead.

Does this mean I won’t ever use my cell phone camera to create work that may make it into my portfolio? No, especially since cell phone cameras get better all the time and since I don’t have my other cameras with me 24/7. What it does mean, however, is that any photographs I do make with my cell phone will have to have been done with intent, because if I do not feel a connection to my work, what in the world is it worth, anyway?

Self-Isolation: Wrap-Up and Next Steps

What a time this has been.

Most of you who are reading this have probably seen, either through this website or on my Instagram, that I spent my self-isolation period taking one Polaroid for every day that I was home (there are 50 days and 51 photographs total, for any new visitors out there). I am officially back at work now, and can therefore no longer call any new images “Self-Isolation,” because I am no longer technically self-isolating (though I am not going anywhere except for to work — rest assured that I am still taking all possible precautions, because I understand that this crisis is FAR from over). Because this series has ended (unless another lock-down happens in the future, in which case, expect a part II), I wanted to sit down and take the time to a) talk about my experience making this new series of work and b) discuss my plans for the future and a few exciting things that are happening.

If you aren’t aware of my past work, I am a photographer who works primarily with Polaroids, and I use the medium to explore my surroundings and what “home” means to me (feel free to read my bio to get the expanded explanation). I began the body of work entitled Home in the fall of 2017 when I was beginning to work on my senior portfolio for my BFA program, and have been photographing my home since my first college photography class in the spring of 2015. Clearly, I have spent a lot of time thinking about my surroundings and the meaning that I draw from them, so, to me, picking up my Polaroid camera and expanding my Polaroid collection was a natural response to being stuck at home due to the current pandemic.

One thing I found myself doing while creating this series, which can both stand alone and be integrated into my already-existing body of work, something that was important to me when beginning this project, was finding new ways to explore parts of my home (and the front and back yards surrounding it) that I have already explored in photographs before. I experimented with new angles, zoomed in on specific scenes, and even managed to find a few things that have yet to be photographed, either because I haven’t gotten around to them or because they have changed over the past two-and-a-half years. Doing this series has re-invigorated my work in a way I did not believe was possible, and it has encouraged me to continue with a series that, a year ago, I proclaimed I was closing the doors on. I have been genuinely excited to make work every day, and not being able to call the series “Self-Isolation” anymore does not mean that I won’t continue to make photographs as often as I can.

I said in my last blog entry that I had not yet decided how I want to continue with my work; one idea that I have had that I want to try out is making a “Photo of the Week” post each Saturday to highlight my favorite image from that week, and continuing to put photos up on my Instagram and in my Polaroid gallery on this website. This seems the most reasonable way for me to continue to share my work without overwhelming the blog with new entries, since I want to get back to writing about photography and don’t want it to get lost in a sea of photographs or to disrupt the flow of any posts I am making (I hope that all makes sense). Another thing I have been doing during this time is playing with some new digital work that involves the use of crystal balls also known as crystal ball refraction photography, some of which you can find in the “film and digital” section of my site, and I am hoping to use this technique to add an interesting twist on my home photography sometime in the near future (also, if anyone knows of a reasonably priced macro lens I could add to my wish list, let me know!). Two final ideas I am considering are getting back into film work, since I have found a lab to send film to for development, and really delving into the world of cyanotypes, which I learned to do in a college photography course, but never took much interest in incorporating into my work until recently (I am drawn to these because they are relatively cheap to make and require only sunlight and water for development, making them a great at-home project). All this to say, I have a lot of ideas, and I am excited to explore all of my creative options.

Finally, I want to mention that I got a public feature in a local news article about photographers using creativity to stay connected during the COVID-19 isolation period, which I encourage you to check out here, since there are 4 other talented locals featured that I think you all should check out. This came as a total but welcomed surprise to me this morning, and I am grateful to have my work recognized, especially since I feel that this is the best work I have produced in a long time (thank you so much, Bham Now!).

FINALLY finally, thank YOU ALL so much for loving and supporting my work. I have enjoyed reading your comments and messages, seeing your reposts, and staying connected with you all during this time. I truly believe that creativity brings us all together and helps us to better relate to one another, and nothing has reaffirmed that belief more than seeing the outpouring of love you all have given my work and me over the past several weeks. For the next few days, I will be taking a break in photography to focus on a few life things, but I will be back soon with new photos and new blog posts focusing on a variety of photography-related topics (if there is anything you want me to cover, leave me a comment, send me an email, or message my on my Instagram @kelseycollierphotography — I am always open to suggestions and requests).

Thank you all again for sticking with me; I hope you and yours are well, and may peace be with you.

— Kelsey

Self-Isolation, Day 28: Solemn, Somber

Self-Isolation, Day 28: Solemn, Somber

“Only photography has been able to divide human life into a series of moments, each of them has the value of a complete existence.”
— Eadweard Muybridge

Self-Isolation, Day 14: Vintage Vibes

Self-Isolation, Day 14: Vintage Vibes

“One doesn’t stop seeing. One doesn’t stop framing. It doesn’t turn off and turn on. It’s on all the time.”
— Annie Leibovitz

The Love of the Analog

We live in a digital age.

You’ve all heard this statement a million times, and you all know it to be true.

Everything, from listening to music to watching movies to taking pictures can be done on a device we all carry around in our back pockets every day. When I talk to kids about how we used to watch movies at home, they are dumbfounded — they have no concept of what a VHS tape or player is, and, slowly, they are even moving away from DVD’s because it has become so much more convenient to watch your favorite films on various streaming services than to go out and buy physical copies. Kids don’t even realize that Netflix wasn’t always a streaming service, and don’t even get me started on video rental stores like Blockbuster. Even the word “films” has lost some of its meaning to people — most movies you see in theaters now are shot digitally as opposed to being shot on actual film. The idea that, not so long ago — within my lifetime, even — the world looked like a totally different place in terms of technology is astounding. Even for those of us who lived through it, it is hard to imagine life without all of the modern conveniences that we have now (especially smart phones — how did we function back in the day!, am I right?). However, in a time when technology seems to be taking over every aspect of our daily lives, there are some of us who are nostalgic for a time when cassettes were still a thing, for when phones were tethered to a line, and for when film photography ruled the land.

Like most photographers these days, I do shoot digitally for the convenience, but, at the core, I am an analog photographer. I love analog photography because the physicality of shooting film is like nothing else in the world to me; unwrapping the canister or film pack, placing it in the camera, and taking each shot, not ever truly knowing exactly what it will look like until it is developed, is a feeling that never gets old. I am always excited to develop a roll or to watch a shot develop (remember, I shoot both 35mm and instant film); it is like Christmas morning is happening all over again each and every time.

I love analog photography because there are so many options that come with it. There are hundreds of different types of film you can shoot with, from your basic 35mm black-and-white or color films to specialty films that have different effects (such as purple or red tinting) to medium-format to instant and beyond, and the same goes for the different types of film cameras you can purchase. The combinations of types of film and cameras you can use together to create images is mind-blowing, and with companies like Lomography and Polaroid Originals constantly working on new products to feed into this growing obsession with analog processes, the options for creativity are becoming increasingly limitless.

I love analog photography because it forces you to stop and pay attention to what you are doing. With film, you have only a certain number of shots you can take before you run out, so you have to be intentional with what you are shooting, otherwise you are wasting resources. I genuinely believe that digital photography makes us snap-happy because we know we can point the camera any which way, take a bunch of pictures, delete what we don’t like, and start the process again and again until it is time to insert the next memory card. Digital photography takes us out of the moment and keeps our eyes behind a camera lens; we see this especially with cell phone photography and applications like Instagram and Snapchat, which encourage people to take images of every single tiny moment in their lives instead of living those moments. Film is not like that; when you know you have only so many frames, you cherish each one, and you spend your time focusing on every moment until the right one to photograph comes along. I tend to remember the moments and feelings attached to my film photographs more than I do the digital ones, and, because of this, I have become more intentional with the digital shots that I do take. Which leads me to my next point…

I love analog photography because it teaches a better appreciation of photography overall. So many people ask why I got a degree in photography, because “anyone can do it.” I mean, yes, I suppose anyone can pick up a digital camera, set it to auto, and snap away, but where is the love and appreciation in that? Digital photography seems to give people the impression that photography is easy, that nothing much goes into it, and this, to me, is an extremely poor way of looking at photography as a practice. Something I learned while getting my degree and seeing numerous people take photography for the first time is that, once you hand them a manual film camera and teach them to use it, they begin to understand that there is a lot more to photography than we are led to believe in this digital age. Analog photography teaches discipline and awareness, because, as I said before, you have only a limited number of frames to shoot before you run out. It teaches us an understanding of camera mechanics and how to control the camera versus letting the camera control itself and us; once you learn how all of the functions of the camera work together to create an image, you can manipulate the camera to make images that are to your liking and, thus, images that are more unique to you and your vision of the world. Something I personally have noticed is that, because I have picked up these habits from shooting film, this translates to my digital work and into my everyday life; I pay much more attention to small details and to special moments, and I don’t spend all my time with my friends snapping pictures on my phone to post to social media platforms. This surprises most people, because I am a photographer, after all, but I have learned that there is value in quality over quantity in my work, and there is value in spending quality time with the people I love instead of taking a million pictures to prove to everyone else that I had a good time.

Lastly, I love analog photography because it gives me the freedom to express myself in a way that digital photography has yet to be able to give me.

I will never say that digital photography has no place in the world and is not a legitimate form of artistic expression; as I mentioned earlier, I do use digital from time to time, even in my artistic work, and it most definitely has its uses to me and to other photographers. However, I do not find that digital photography gives me the same satisfaction or freedom of expression that I gain from using analog processes. I stated earlier that I love all of the combinations of film and cameras that exist on the market, and the reason is that this gives me absolute freedom to change up the way I do things all the time without having to do a bunch of digital manipulation because, at the end of the day, that is not how I want to work. I like the simplicity of popping a roll or cartridge into a camera and going with the flow of the day. Analog photography has taught me to find freedom and creativity within myself that I did not know existed, and this is why, if I had to choose between shooting only analog or only digital, I would choose analog every day of the week.

I hope you enjoyed today’s post. I wanted to pop in and let you all know that I think I am going to stick to making these blog posts bi-weekly, as that allows me the time to think through the topics I want to discuss and to research for posts that are rooted in history. That being said, I hope to see you in two weeks when I show you all my camera collection and wish list.

Photography as Art, Pt. 2: Photography's Place in Modern and Contemporary Art

In part one of this two-part series , we discussed how photography came to be recognized as a valid form of art within the art historical canon. As promised last time, I will still be discussing how photography is used in contemporary art and giving my personal take on photography as art, but I felt that I also needed to cover photography in modern art as well, since it did shape the way we use photography in today’s world. So, instead of including my personal opinion on photography as art in today’s post, I will instead be discussing it in a wrap-up post on Friday (yes, you get two posts this week — get excited). Once again, I will be including links to all of the sources I used in researching this post, and you can click on them for more information on the topic. For the sake of brevity, let’s get on with today’s talk.

Modernism as a movement took place from roughly the 1860’s to the mid 1960’s (this can vary slightly depending on who you are talking to, but this is the time span that is generally accepted). Modern artists embraced change and brought about the idea that art could talk about the self and reflect one’s own interests and experiences, whereas art prior to this period was largely commissioned by either wealthy individuals or by institutions such as the church. Artists began to use new materials, techniques, and mediums to express themselves, and they challenged the idea that art had to be purely representational and realistic (to read more about modern art, click here). Modern movements that embraced photography as a medium include Italian Futurism, Constructivism and Bauhaus, and Dada, and Surrealism (for more information, click here).

Within the Modernist movement, there is the Modern Photography movement, which took on the idea that a photograph was allowed to look like a photograph and, thus, Straight Photography was born in the early 1900’s. Straight Photography, as opposed to Pictorialism, abandoned the imitation of other art forms and sought to use photography in a way that was free of manipulation. An important figure in this movement was a critic named Sadakichi Hartmann, whose 1904 “Plea for Straight Photography” praised straightforward photography and the photographers who took this approach, such as Stiegletz, who by this time had moved away from Pictorialism in favor of the Straight approach (x). Other influential figures of this movement include Ansel Adams and Edward Wesson, who were part of Group f/64, a group founded by Adams that advocated for sharp-focus and clarity within photographs so as not to obscure reality. Modern Photography was (and still is) the block upon which many types of photography were built, such as Photojournalists, Street Photography, Documentary Photography, and Snapshot Photography (for more about Straight Photography, click here). As you can see, Modern Photography and Modern Art stand in opposition to one another’s ideals; one values moving toward realism, and one values moving away from realism. The argument can be made that photography is a large part of the shifting attitudes within the art world that brought about the Modernist movement. Photographers could make the same portraits mechanically and with relative speed that painters spent hours, days, and months making; painters were no longer needed in the art of realistic portraiture or landscapes, so they adapted to this change by embracing new techniques and styles within their work. Other artists, such as Man Ray and Andy Warhol, chose to include photography and photographic techniques within their work. Man Ray famously created “rayographs” (also known as photograms — but very punny, Man Ray) by placing random objects on photosensitive paper and exposing them to light, and Andy Warhol (who I will likely dedicate an entire blog post to one day) not only turned famous images of celebrities into Pop-Art paintings and prints, but spent a lot of time taking photographs, and he apparently wrote in one of his journals that he told a friend of his, "“I didn’t believe in art; I believed in photography.” (x) It would take a whole textbook to discuss photography in Modern Art, but I think you get the idea of its impact.

Let’s move on to Contemporary Art.

In the mid-1960’s through the early 1970’s, the art world shifted toward new ideas that fall under the umbrella term “Contemporary Art.” Contemporary Art as a movement has proven difficult to define, partly because it is so new and is still happening today (I myself wonder what people who look back on the Contemporary era will come to define it as and what it will come to be named in the future, since any current art is technically “contemporary,” but I digress). One thing that can generally be agreed upon is that Contemporary Art places great importance on the concepts and methods behind each artists’s work, and one thing that I found to be true to me about Contemporary Art throughout my time as a B.F.A. student is that Contemporary Art is open to the idea that anything can be art as long as there is a concept to back it up. Photography has certainly taken on a huge role in Contemporary Art, especially with the advent of the digital camera and cell phone cameras. We continue to practice Photojournalism, Street, Documentary, and Fashion Photography, just as the Straight Photographers did, and elements of Pictorialism continue to play a part in the work of contemporary photographers, and the added element of digital processes has allowed for further artistic expression and exploration within the medium. And, as ever, artists are constantly finding new ways to use photographs in combination with other artistic mediums, especially painting and printmaking.

One of the earliest movement in Contemporary Art is, in fact, Photorealism, a movement that came about around 1968 in which artists took photographs and tried to replicate them as realistically as humanly possible (this movement had a revival in the 1990’s with the advent of digital cameras and digital technology). (x) Photography has also been used in Performance Art, both to document it as it happened live and to capture performances that were specifically meant for the camera’s eye (x). Photography has been used within contemporary art to create new worlds (such as in the work of Andreas Gursky), to explore new identities within the self (such as in the work of Cindy Sherman), to create scenes that could have been pulled from the movies (such as in the work of Gregory Crewdson), to document the people and issues around them (such as in the work on Nan Goldin), and to explore the ideas of home, family, time, love, loss, and so much more. Currently, there is a rise in popularity of older photographic processes (now known as “alternative processes) being used in rebellion against the evasive digital processes that have taken over the contemporary world. Companies such as Lomography and Polaroid Originals are catering to this trend by selling cameras and film that hearken back to what are now the “old days” before the world went digital, and even digital applications have photographic filters that are meant to make the photographs you take on your cell phone look like vintage film photographs.

Photography, though it is new in comparison to other forms of art, has a history that is continuing to evolve at a rapid pace. It plays an important part in our everyday lives, and it is for this reason that it is such a popular medium among artists today.

I hope you got something out of this reading, and I hope to see you in my wrap-up post on Friday.

Photography as Art, Pt. 1: How it Came to Be Recognized as Art

In my last post, we discussed how photography is not necessarily, if ever, truthful, and how photographers, consciously or unconsciously, bend the truth to fit their personal narrative. This, naturally, leads to today’s discussion on photography as a form of art (so, if you haven’t read last week’s post, please, feel free to do so now). This post will be written in two parts — the first part giving a (very) brief overview of how photography became a recognized form of art within the artistic community and the second discussing my personal take on photography as art by discussing what constitutes art in the first place. Also, in my best effort to keep this post as brief as possible and to prevent accusations of plagiarism, I will be including links to the resources I used to write this post so that, with one click, you can have access to even more information on the history of photography (because who doesn’t want that in their life?). Without further chit-chat, here’s some history for you

Photography as an idea has been around since the time of the camera obscura, which used a pinhole to project an upside-down image onto a wall or other surface. Photography as we now know it came into being in the 1820’s when Joseph Nicéphore Niépce exposed a pewter plate coated in bitumen to light via the camera obscura to create the first permanent photographic image, and, from there, the medium took off (for more history on advancements within early photography, click here). At first, photography was seen largely as a form of science and was used for documentary purposes, such to take pictures of people or places. Another turning-point in early photography that made it seem like even less of an artistic endeavor came with the advent of the Original Kodak in 1888 Kodak Brownie in 1900, which were both commercially available so that the middle-class could affordably make images of their family and friends. This promoted the idea of photography as something any amateur could do because a large number of people could get their hands on cameras (oh, how times have not changed one bit).

The first group to lobby for photography as a fine art were the Pictorialists, who rejected the snapshots that cameras like those made by Kodak has made popular in favor of labor-intensive forms of photography that showed the medium to be more than a mechanical process and, instead, one that involved great skill and craftsmanship. Under the umbrella of Pictorialism were the Photo-Secessionists, a group of photographers chosen and led by Alfred Stiegletz, whose aim was to move away from the idea of photography as a realistic representation of the world and, instead, toward a painterly aesthetic (for more on the Photo-Secessionists and for examples of their work, click here). Stiegletz, with the founding of The Little Galleries of the Photo-Secession (later re-branded simply as 291), was the first to exhibit photographs in a gallery setting, and was critical to the wider acceptance of photography as a fine art (what a guy).

In 1932, thirty years after the beginning of Photo-Secession, the Museum of Modern Art in New York City exhibited its first photograph; a year later, the first photographs were acquired for its collection and photographer Walker Evans exhibited the first one-man photography show, both within the museum and within the medium itself; in 1940, with influential photographer Ansel Adams as the Vice-Chairman of the Photography Committee, the Department of Photography at the MoMA was established, and, finally, in 1943, the Musuem of Modern Art Photography Center was established (to view the Department of Photography’s official press release, click here; for a complete chronology of the MoMA’s Department of Photography, click here). It is at this time in the 1940’s that, in The United States of America, photography becomes officially recognized as a form of fine art.

Needless to say, it would take an entire class (very likely more than one) to go over the history of photography, how it came to be known as art, and how it has since continued to evolve and thrive within the world of fine art. Also needless to say is that, although I have BFA in Fine Art, I am not (currently, anyway — maybe someday?) an art historian; I am simply interested in art history and, specifically and for obvious reasons, the history of photography. Finally, I felt that it was important to give the historical context of how photography became known as art before giving a talk on how photography is used in art today and my personal opinion on what makes it art because, well, context is everything, and, to understand the present, you must first understand the past (erm, well… in theory, anyway).

With all that being said, I hope you enjoyed today’s brief history lesson, and I hope to see you in my next post.

Photography: How and Why?

Hello everyone, and welcome to the blog! This space will be dedicated to sharing various photography-related content. You can feel free to send me an email on topics you would like for me to discuss by clicking “contact” at the top of the page and filling out the form or drop me a comment below — I am open to any suggestions you have!

Future posts will be more formal and less long-winded, but today, I want to sit down and share with you how I got into photography and why it captivated me enough for me to want to pursue a degree (and, hopefully, one day, a full-time career) in it.

How photography?

I don’t remember exactly when — maybe when I was 9 or 10 — my mother’s mother and her husband gave me my first point-and-shoot camera (which, funnily enough, I still have, and, yes, it still works!). This was, of course, back in the days of ye-old film photography, and I vividly remember the excitement of finishing a roll and my grandmother going to Wal-Mart to get it developed and printed. Most of the photographs weren’t very good, I’ll admit, but I did enjoy taking them, and this is what planted the first seed in my journey to becoming a photographer.

When I was 16, I had a history teacher who was also a photographer, and, for whatever reason, I showed her a few pictures I had taken with a point-and-shoot Nikon that my dad’s parents had gotten me for Christmas (again, I still have this camera), and she told me she thought that, with some instruction, I could be a pretty good photographer. This planted the second seed.

The third and final seed was planted during my Freshman year at Birmingham-Southern College. I began a work-study job in the Fine Arts Department, and my coordinator’s office was located in the art building and directly beside the photography professor’s office. Everyone talked about how amazing this professor was, and, as I got to know her, I knew that I wanted to take her introductory photography class. I also knew that this class was difficult to get into because, what can I say, my professor was in-demand, so I asked if she would be willing to sign me in during registration, and, kindly, she said yes.

Now, what you need to understand before I continue is that I went into college genuinely believing that I wanted a business degree because everyone said this was the thing to do if I wanted a job in the future. My first sign that this would not last, however, was when I insisted on using my Christmas money to purchase my own Nikon DSLR to use in class instead of borrowing one of the department’s cameras.

I was so excited for this class to start. So excited, in fact, that, being the impatient eager-beaver that I am, I started learning how to use all the various modes and functions on my dSLR in January before term started in February because there was no way I could let this magnificent machine I had spent $475 on sit around untouched until the digital unit of my class rolled around. This should have been my second sign that being a business major was not going to last.

We started off this introductory class with a film unit. During this segment, we shot on black-and-white film and learned how to process and print it ourselves. This process was both frustrating and thrilling to me. I started off not being very good at it — I, like many of my classmates, ruined several rolls of film and had several more turn out with a few usable images while the rest were blotchy from being incorrectly rolled onto the processing wheel — but, by the end, I wound up with a few winning rolls and a few winning images (again, some of which you will find on this site). We spent the second half of the semester on a digital unit, during which we learned how to use the cameras, how to use Photoshop to do basic enhancements, and how to print our photographs using professional printers. I continued to find success in this course and, to my excitement, my professor approached me (as she does all of the students who are not seniors and show potential in photography) to invite me to continue on into her upper-level courses.

The third sign that I would not continue as a business major came when I decided at the end of the semester to declare a minor in art. Looking back now, I knew in my heart that I wanted to do photography, but my head was still screaming that I needed to stick with business because, you know, the job thing. I began my Sophomore year taking an introductory art history class, which I loved, and Two-Dimensional Design (which I took with my photography professor because, yet again, she was willing to sign me in). It was at this time also that I took the introductory business class (which I had not been able to get into at all my Freshman year), and macro-economics. Though I enjoyed the professors, I was not entirely good at the classes, and I found them difficult to enjoy anyway because my head and heart tended to stay in my art and art history courses instead of in the business courses.

The following semester I took a course called “Photography: From Chemistry to Digital," and this was the class where I found what I loved. I struggled through it, and I was not always good at it, but this is where I found a true love for film photography and all that it offered. This was the course that encouraged me to try out all of the toy cameras that I love so much today — this was the course that shaped who I would become as a photographer. It was also in the middle of this semester that I officially changed my major to “Bachelor of Fine Arts in Studio Art” and joined forces with an amazing group of artists who I am so lucky to call my friends and colleagues.

The rest of my time in college was, like the photography courses I mentioned earlier, not always easy, and, also as I mentioned earlier, I was not always good. I told myself (and, admittedly, still tell myself sometimes) that I was a bad photographer and would never make it. However, because I don’t know how to quit, I kept going. Why? Because, at the end of the day, photography gives me a purpose and a goal. One day, I want to pursue a graduate degree in photography so that I can become a professor and teach others to love photography as much as I do. I do photography because it is my way of showing everyone who I am and how I see the world around me. It is my way of keeping track of my life so that one day I can look back at the photographs and remind myself where I came from. It is my way of pouring my frustrations and joys and everything in-between into something constructive and beautiful, into something that I can share instead of always having it all locked inside.

Why photography?

Because, at the end of the day, it is my way of connecting both with myself and with everyone else, and that feeling of connection is the single most important factor in my life because, without it, what is the point of anything, anyway?