I’ve been grappling with a dilemma these past months, or perhaps even years. I have this nagging feeling that producing merely ‘good’ photos is not enough anymore. Perhaps it was never enough, but nonetheless… I look around online and in print, and I see an ocean of amazing photographs. Especially these days, with the ubiquity of accessible camera gear, there is no longer a hurdle keeping people out of the craft. High quality images are easier and easier to attain.
Now, what do I mean by quality? I mean, technically perfect, compositionally sound, with great editing, sharpness, and all that we think of typically good images. And though it still takes a lot to learn all of the skills needed to create such images, they are becoming more and more commonplace. But one might look to great photography beyond social media and find a wealth images that go beyond that, that tell stories and capture ideas in ways that are not necessarily perfect on a technical level. Yet, the photos are great and have ‘quality’ in the own way.
I love portraying people indirectly—mere suggestions of the human presence.
So, what is my dilemma? With such a wealth of amazing work out there… I wonder, why do I bother? To be honest, I’ve often felt a tinge of jealousy. Those other works are so good, that maybe I wish I took them. I overcame this negative line of thinking with a simple mantra: don’t be jealous; be inspired. When this came to me years ago, whether I read it somewhere or it was a personal realization, it was like a salve on a wound. It soothed the pain caused by that dilemma—the ubiquity of great work.
But it was not the really a cure. It left the question: I really like [x] content, does this mean I should also create [x] content? In some ways, I followed that path. I honed my skills and learned how to create photos with excellent technical quality. And this felt like an achievement, for a time. However, the problem lurked beneath the surface. All I am doing is creating what others are creating. I guess I am competitive by nature, but I was sliding down the path of one-upmanship. I wanted my photos to be more impressive, more impactful, and more liked by others. Not all the time of course. Not every single photo I took had that underlying motivation. Some photos I took because I simply wanted to.
A medley of some of my favorite things: a utility pole, a neon sign, a deep-dusk sky, silhouettes.
This is the core of the dilemma that has been on my mind the last few months. To restate the question: in a sea of excellent photography, what is the sense to create more excellent photos myself? The first part of the answer was not so profound. It was simply that technical quality is not the mark of a great work of art, whether it be a photograph or otherwise. Instead, it was authenticity that I should be after—that we should all be after.
I realized, that in a sea of quality, it is authenticity that is rare and hard to come by. So many creatives are out there copying one another. Trying to do the same thing that has been done before. Don’t get me wrong, I think this is part of the path, a step on the creative journey of any artist. We have to copy and emulate in order to learn. Only then can we stand on the shoulders of giants. But in our soul, we should keep an insulated kernel of self. A little nugget of truth that is untainted by the capricious currents of the masses.
Dark buildings set against rainy haze bursting into violet brilliance.
What Does it Mean for Art to be Authentic?
This was the real challenge, the actual question. Everything I grappled with leading up this question was just the hors d'oeuvre. Now I had something serious to chew on. I thought about it on and off for months. How can I define a work of art to be authentic? Is my own work authentic? How do I know? The dictionary definition just talks about it in the literal sense: something of a known origin, something genuine, not fake. But that is useless for advancing any understand of my own work. Of course, my work originates with me. I created it. This was not enough.
And then one night at 3am in a bought of insomnia, I had an epiphany. It just hit me out of the blue. I sprang out of bed and wrote it down in a notebook, an act I reserve only for the most important, most fleeting bedtime thoughts.
Authenticity means photographing that which interests you, not that which might interest others.
That sentence may not sound like much, but it led me to realize an important truth about my own photos, especially the ones that I love most. I took them because there was something about the scene that captivated me. I didn’t think about how other people might perceive the images. I am creating my art to scratch an itch that is internal only to my own creative psyche. It exists in my inner space and no one else’s. Sure, someone else might, by chance, have similar preoccupations, but at the very least I am not motivated by that external force. The creative act stems purely from an internal pressure.
In a sense the dictionary was right: authentic work has a known and distinct origin. But the origin is not my camera, my hands, my eyes, or mind. The origin is in the self.
Pipes—they are everywhere in Tokyo and I am obsessed with then.
You may wonder, how is this different from 'mere' originality? I feel the difference lies in its organic nature. It is not original for originality’s sake. It is original because it happens to be so most of the time. And in fact, I would argue that authenticity means to persevere even in the realization that someone else has done it before. Even if you’ve seen it done before, that should not stop you. If you have a genuine interest in your subject, you will see the work through to the end for its own sake despite the realization that someone has tread a similar path before you.
It's okay if you produce something similar to another work because it is not why you produced it. And your own ‘why’ is likely unique, no matter the outcome of the work itself. Pure internal motivation is what results in authentic work. You trudge on because it is true to your own vision.
So, what is the value in the end? In the end the photos, the art, are indisputably yours. And the motivation lies not in creating ‘good’ work. It lies in exploring your own mind and interests. That exploration creates art from an origin that is undeniably your own.
I will end with one last question—some food for thought. Authentic work is work that others would not think to create. So, what does it mean to be an authentic person? Is an authentic life one that other people would not think to live?