The use of the photograph on the left for a recent post got me thinking about a thread I started some time ago but haven’t had the time to pick up again. So here is round 2 of Vernacular vs. Fine Art. The image on the right is by Ansel Adams, the image on the left by my 5 year old daughter.
Adams talks about this image in his book “Examples: The Making of 40 Photographs” and gives a technical reason as to why film (or sensors) under really intense light will actually reverse itself, resulting in the black sun. However, I can’t remember the explanation. I do have a recollection of some half-hearted attempts to replicate the effect in my early days of black and white landscape, but none were successful. In that respect, my daughter seems to have succeeded where I failed.
As the father of one of the photographers above, I won’t pretend to be able to render an even vaguely objective comparison of the two images, but instead will leave it up to you. However, if we judge solely on the basis of who was able to push the effect farther, Emma’s got Ansel beat. The sun in hers is a solid black, the sun in Adams print merely a dark grey. Nice job, Emma, now consider quitting while you’re ahead!
I read Wright Morris’s article “In Our Image” for the first time this week. There were a lot of points in it that got me thinking, but one in particular has motivated me to further exploration. Morris argues that often the vernacular photograph, devoid of the things that cocern us artist such as form and style, carries a weight that is lacking in the “fine art” photograph. The vernacular phtoograph remains a photograph, while the fine art photograph becomes an image, and ultimately an image of the photographer as much as of the subject.
Above is my first paring for an ongoing thread. I think vernacular wins hands down in this case in terms of raw impact.
Two Disclaimers:
1. OK, the photograph on the left is probably not vernacular in the strictest sense, but it was certainly not done for purposes of fine art, so it is still a fair comparison. There will be more strictly vernacular work in future posts.
2. I have a significant prejudice against Serrano’s work. Jorg Colberg nails it for me when on his Conscientious blog he describes Serrano’s photographs as “the kind of stuff you’d expect from a toddler who has just entered the phase where he or she is saying ‘dirty’ words to get reactions out of people and for some reason knows how to take photos.”
If this all is true, where does it leave us fine art photographers? I was briefly troubled by this question, but have realized there are plenty of good reasons for us to do what we do. I just haven’t thought of how to articulate them yet…
