Photographic promiscuity

All of those photographs are going to show up on someone's FB newsfeed.

All of those photographs are going to show up on someone’s newsfeed.

There was a time when I was very interested in photography. I learned how to shoot pictures when one used an external meter and instructions on the box. My dad was a photographer during WWII. He had a darkroom in the basement, and I loved messing around in it. My husband was as keenly interested as me. Both of us shot in black and white and that wonder of the 20th century, Kodachrome.

W. H. Jackson traveled with three cameras, all wet-plate:  a stereographic, an 8X10 plate, and another as large as 18x22—plus the supporting darkroom equipment. This is from the US Geological Survey trip to Wyoming in 1870.

W. H. Jackson traveled with three cameras, all wet-plate: a stereographic, an 8X10 plate, and another as large as 18×22—plus the supporting darkroom equipment. This is from the US Geological Survey trip to Wyoming in 1870.

Pretty early on, I went over to the “dark side,” as Kodakers of the time called it, with a series of digital cameras. These were always pretty high-end, and always seemed to be obsolete after about 18 months.

As I spent more time doing landscape painting, I became less interested in toting a camera bag filled with lenses and accessories. I wanted something I could slip in my pocket and hopefully not break.

Matthew Brady and other Civil War era photographers were using wet-plate collodion photography, which require doing their darkroom work in the field. Still, he managed to capture images that move us 150 years later, like this famous image of the Sunken Road (1862) from Antietam.

Matthew Brady and other Civil War era photographers were using wet-plate collodion photography, which require doing their darkroom work in the field. Still, he managed to capture images that move us 150 years later, like this famous image of the Sunken Road (1862) from Antietam.

The perfect camera for that is, of course, my cell phone, but it has technical limitations. Now I just carry cheap point-and-shoot cameras.

Sam A. Cooley was an official photographer of the U.S. Army's Department of the South, and worked in St. Augustine, FL. This photo shows his rig and the equipment necessary to take field photos during the Civil War.

Sam A. Cooley was an official photographer of the U.S. Army’s Department of the South, and worked in St. Augustine, FL. This photo shows his rig and the equipment necessary to take field photos during the Civil War.

In Alaska I had a few brief moments of camera envy. Tourists, mostly men, were shooting with monstrous telephoto lenses and gazillion-frames-per-second cameras. Some showed me their shots, and they were all very proficient. (They were also a tad monomaniacal. They leaped up each time a blade of glass rustled and blocked every available viewpoint.)

In my youth, I would have shot five rolls of 36 exposures on a two-week trip, and then agonized over the cost of developing them. When I finally ponied up, I would have 180 slides. Carousel slide trays held a maximum of 140 slides, so I would edit my collection down by at least a quarter. That was more than enough to put most people to sleep.

The scrum when a grizzly bear showed up on my recent trip to Denali.

You have to look snappy to take your snap when a grizzly bear shows up.

On this trip, I shot 1764 images, despite being so laconic about it. I suspect that’s actually a low number compared to anyone using anything bigger than a cell phone. Alaska got about 2 million tourists in 2013. If one in a hundred of these brings a “good” camera, and if each these people shoots 2,000 photos, they take about 40 million photos of Alaska each year. A large percentage of these end up on social media… without compensation to the artist, in most cases.

My father and many other wartime photographers used the 4X5 version of a Graflex Speed Graphic .  It was a cumbersome tool. The focal plane shutter speed required setting a slit width and spring tension. The film holder was changed for each exposure, and actually shooting the picture required several steps.

My father and many other wartime photographers used the 4X5 version of a Graflex Speed Graphic. It was a cumbersome tool. The focal plane shutter speed required setting a slit width and spring tension. The film holder was changed for each exposure, and actually shooting the picture required several steps.

This is not to say that there aren’t fine nature photographers out there—Fred Kellerman and Ralph Lee Hopkins both come to mind. But we are buried in a sea of digital photographs. Many are technically excellent, because even cheap cameras take good photos these days. A special few are inspired.

Despite being cumbersome, the Speed Graphic was America's press camera for 50 years, and was responsible for many iconic photos, including Joe Rosenthal's "Raising the Flag on Iwo Jima," 1945.

Despite being cumbersome, the Speed Graphic was America’s press camera for 50 years, and was used for many iconic photos, including Joe Rosenthal’s “Raising the Flag on Iwo Jima,” 1945.

Yes, photographs record time, place and detail with great fidelity. Some even move us. But the vast profligacy of amateur photographers and their greed to capture and publish absolutely everything leads to a paradoxical desert of creativity.

Painting, in contrast, is time-consuming, highly subjective and idiosyncratic. It isn’t interested in meticulous recording of details, but in telling you something about the subject. The surfeit of photographic images in our lives, paradoxically, makes paintings stand out like jewels in comparison.

Carol Douglas

About Carol Douglas

Carol L. Douglas is a painter who lives, works and teaches in Rockport, ME. Her annual workshop will again be held on the Schoodic Peninsula in beautiful Acadia National Park, from August 6-11, 2017. Visit www.watch-me-paint.com/ for more information.