Address the Vest: Notes on Photography

by Ross Evertson

Introduction

MakingRoom Magazine is about, for the most part, approaching photographers concerning their relationship to the photographic process. Illustrators, too. Filmmakers. I personally am interested in reaching out to both amateurs and professionals and trying to get them to hold themselves accountable for what they are doing.

You may have read that digital has made this photography thing pretty approachable. True, true. This is why I think it is important for people, once they are somewhat technically skilled, to take a step or two back and consider what it is they are doing with their image making. Those few steps can also be used to see the bigger historical picture, which is always a hoot to react to.

I say this not out of any sense of elitism, rather I just have a desire to see as much interesting work as possible. It can easily be just as helpful to consider the words of someone who is frustrated with their first 5 rolls of film as it is to talk with a seasoned pro.

Anyway. Take this series of short essays with a grain of salt. I am insecure, and only able to talk about that which is most important to me if I infuse it will a sorghum-thick amount of cynicism (it is a problem, I know). We’ll eventually talk about photographic methodologies, education and photographers themselves.

Part 1 : The Timeline

From both personal experience and observation I have found that this is a fairly accurate timeline (give or take) for a lot of photographers.

Get first camera at age 5. Shoot a couple rolls over the course of a decade. Lots of photographs looking up at things (you’re short, you can’t help it). Take a photo class in high school. Borrow Dads’ old K1000. You mess up a couple rolls because you can’t load it right. Shoot girlfriend/boyfriend naked in your bedroom (ooh man you’re naughty).

At this point there seem to be a few options.

Option 1: Never pick up a camera again, other than a disposable or cheap digital to shoot snaps at drunken office parties.

Option 2: You dig up the old K1000 while you are getting your business degree. You remember how much fun it was shooting your sweetheart naked. You decide that the camera embodies the creative freedom you had while in high school, and are lacking now in college. You shoot 20 rolls and process them at Walgreens. You beg your parents for a digital SLR, and you start a photoblog. You include many photographs involving looking up. Hmm.

Option 3: You become obsessed with photography, shooting everything all the time. You run out of money, what with all this film and processing, so you squat with the guys who used to sell you pot in 10th grade. Only they are into heroin now. You can’t resist this photographically so you shoot them the 2 years you sleep on their puke. Then you pull yourself together and publish a book of their squalor and start shooting ads of chavs for Burberry.

Just in case you don’t understand, these options are not presented to you ahead of time. Like most decisions in life, the photographic ones are sometimes made before you understand the gravity of that you are addressing. That’s fine, because at anytime you can take a look in the mirror and hold yourself accountable for what you are doing. And unlike most decisions in life, you can change your mind.

Sometimes, though, changing your mind is not as important as just accepting what you are. Are you a photoblogger? That is awesome, but you are not a professional (they make money, see). Are you a professional? Absolutely super, but that doesn't mean you necessarily have the capacity to make fine art work (we will not get into this here, other than to say I believe, say, Ansel Adams was a photographer, not a fine artist…don’t hurt me). It goes on and on. The first step to improving, as they say, is admitting you have a problem. I am not suggesting that a photoblogger cannot be a pro or a fine artist or a journalist, I am just trying to explain that making photographs (even very good ones) doesn’t implicitly mean that you are any one of these things. This is good, trust me.

There are an infinite number of paths one can take on this expensive road we travel, such as actually going to college for photography. Hahaha, yeah, I know. We’ll cover the photographic education next time.


Ross Evertson is a Los Angeles-based photographer and illustrator. His work can be seen at RossEvertson.com.