Hi Marthinus:
Thanks for your interest in my newsletter. I send one out from time to time. Feel free to check out my blog, which has lots of stuff.
Enjoy.
mooi bly
Tony
Hi Tony
I met you in South Africa at the one evening meeting we had at the Helderberg Photography club (where you showed the AV’s).
I remember reading some time ago something you posted on picture taking on a blog. You mentioned that taking a picture in Africa where a child’s face screams for care is an easy way to portray emotion and feeling with a photograph, whereas it is very difficult to take a shot of an absolutely beautiful nature landscape and actually really make it speak with emotion and feeling (the reason I want to photograph). So in other word, it is easy to portray emotion with sad pictures and much more difficult with beautiful scenery shots. This is now if I understood you correctly, did I? (was some time ago that I read it). I have also only read a couple of items on your blog, so maybe you discussed this already
My question is, what feelings do you want to portray? I always ask myself what was I feeling when I took the shot? And I want that feeling to touch as deep as possible. Maybe this is not a question, more just I want to hear what you think about it.
What do you feel when you take those amazing nature shots? Maybe I need to understand beauty better, and not just pain. Many times I struggle to portray feeling with everyday things. What do I need to look for?
I actually meant this as a comment on the blog where you challenge to hear what everybody thinks about your blog, but I don’t think it is so applicable anymore. Anyway, would like to hear what you think. And if you discuss things like this on your blog, I’ll love to read everyday!
Kind regards
Groete!
Marthinus Retief

Hi Marthinus:
Thank you so much for writing to me. I do remember you and I really appreciate hearing from somebody in South Africa.
I suspect, if you read through my Blog posts, you’ll find the answer to some of your questions. For my part it is definitely a case of trying to make pictures so beautiful that they evoke emotion in the heart of the viewer. I think when you do this, you are treading a fine line between making an original statement and cliché. I think it’s fantastic that you’re seeking to evoke an emotion in the heart of the viewer. I see too many pictures where the photographer is following a formula developed by somebody else. I think its important to inject yourself into your images. Naturally, it means that you have to have some idea of who you are and what you’re trying to say. And that isn’t easy.
As for what I feel when I’m photographing, sometimes it’s joy, sometimes it’s fear, sometimes it’s pure terror. But at least I’m feeling something! I think too, that an order for us to make the best pictures we can, we have to be prepared to step beyond our comfort zone, be prepared to take risks, and definitely be prepared to cut our own track through the savannah, rather than following a tried-and-true path. If we follow another people’s footsteps we can only ever walk behind them. And be derivative.
Anyway, thanks for staying with my Blog. I have been away over Christmas, spending time with my family, so the posts haven’t been quite as frequent as I would have liked. I’m getting back into it now, so there should be some more making-of-a-photograph posts in the near future.
I cherish a dream of one-day getting back to South Africa. What is really interesting is when my people ask me how I found the country. Almost inevitably they have this perception that it is dark and dangerous and not for the fainthearted! What’s it like they ask? Well, I reply, it is probably the most fascinating country I’ve ever visited. It’s a big, scary, and incredibly beautiful! The people are absolutely fantastic and the landscape is unbelievably beautiful! But it is rather like the Wild West. Seeing security guards outside banks armed with submachine guns, seeing Hijack Hotspot signs outside Witbank, and gun check-in counters at airports comes as a bit of a shock to a Kiwi! Did you feel threatened they ask? No, I reply, I really felt like I’d come home.
Please keep writing-it’s lovely to hear from you!
Best wishes
Tony Bridge

From: Marthinus Retief [mailto:marthinus@entech.co.za]
Sent: Thursday, 11 January 2007 2:29 a.m.
To: Tony Bridge
Subject: RE: Hi there
Hi Tony:
I really appreciate your email and understand it. Your statement about what you feel and that you at least feel something is a big thing for me. I normally don’t give myself time to feel and then take 30 shots and did not feel a thing. My wife says; think 10 times, shoot once. I think, feel 10 times, think, shoot. I have to feel something if you want your viewer to feel something. I Got a nice quote by Adams:
“A great photograph is one that fully expresses what one feels, in the deepest sense, about what is being photographed, and is, thereby, a true manifestation of what one feels about life in its entirety…”
Which gets to what you mentioned about having some idea of who you are and what you are trying to say, which can be a lot. I have to work at this.
The other thing is what you mention about following in another persons footsteps. I have to work at this as well.
Very glad that you appreciate my country so much and it is actually one of the best descriptions I’ve heard about SA for a long time. Would love to see you hear again!
Kind Regards
Marthinus

From: Tony Bridge [mailto:tony@thistonybridge.com]
Sent: 11 January 2007 01:15 AM
To: ‘Marthinus Retief’
Subject: RE: Hi there
Hi Marthinus:
I have to say I’m really enjoying this e-mail conversation. So often I put it out there and from the response I receive it is clear the person I’m talking to either does not get what I’m trying to say or does not want to get it. When I meet the odd person who is obviously receptive to what I’m trying to say, it just encourages me to keep going!
Teaching adults is quite a different thing to teaching teenagers. So often the adults I get to teach come along to my classes wanting me to teach them how to use their equipment, because they think it will make them a better photographer. They haven’t really taken the time to sit down and think what they understand by the term “be a better photographer “. Some of them are firmly wedded to the idea that better equipment and a more in-depth understanding of the technology involved and photography will lead to better photographs (more often than not these people are male). Others have been in the camera club movement so long that they have lost any chance of developing their own individuality. They are so poisoned by the grading system, or the comments of judges on work they have submitted, that they can’t see any further. It is the rare few who are able to see beyond what they’re doing, or rather what they’ve been told they should be doing, and find the personal strength to strike out on their own. To the best of my knowledge very few photographers of significance have ever gained their own individuality through camera club competitions. One of the nice things I enjoyed about my evening at Helderberg was to see the range, breadth, and originality of the work. Helderberg is a very unique club. Meeting the members makes it plainly obvious why this is so: you are all a bunch of individuals each with your own way of seeing things. Freeman said to me I would find Helderberg quite different. Actually this is a club which stands head and shoulders above any I’ve ever had much to do with..
I think you are obviously on the right track. Consideration of self is a pre-requisite to making pictures which are unique, creative (read: reflect the personality of the individual photographer) and ultimately satisfying to the photographer. So how do you go about considering where you are and what you stand for? Well, I have an exercise you can do, if you’re up for it. Buy yourself an A4 visual diary and start writing down your thoughts about photography. When I was an art teacher, this was something that all arts students were required to do. I guess it’s the equivalent of the artist’s sketchbook, where process is brought out from inside the artist and placed on the page. How does a photographer do this? Here are some ways:
1. Carry it with you at all times. When you get an idea about a photograph, or see a photograph that you like, or even have a thought about life, the universe and everything, write it down. Let whatever is in your head come out on paper. It might include recipes, bus tickets, songs reviewed or jokes you want to share. Sketch ideas for photographs; you don’t have to produce beautiful work, just something that makes sense to you. One of the great fallacies about being an artist is that you have to be able to draw. Not true. Accurate representation of what you see isn’t in fact necessary, and you might be amazed at the number of artists whose drawing skills are minimal to say the least.
2. Take the time to reflect on what you’re writing down. Print out some of your best images and stick them in the visual diary. Better still, printout some of your best images and stick them into a visual diary. Now take the time to look at them, think about them and write them down. Note the technical issues, note the compositional issues, looking for both successful and (in your mind-this is important) unsuccessful factors as well. Think about how you felt when you made the photograph and write this down. Reflect often on what you’ve written, and write down what you feel when you reflect. This is important!
3. When you get an idea for a body of work, or an image, write that down too. It may be years before you actually use that idea but it’s always there, concrete and out in the open. Writing your ideas, thoughts and feelings down somehow makes them solid, and pins them to the universe in a form that you can pick up later. Think of them as psychological stickies.
It sounds as if you have a wonderful wife, and from what you have said, it is obvious that she is perceptive, wise, and knows you well! I would listen to her; she obviously has much to offer you.
Another small exercise that I often give to students seeking direction the work is to say this; imagine being at your own funeral. There you are, lying in your coffin with your grieving relatives filing past. On the lid of your casket are seven photographs you’ve made in your lifetime. They are your seven best pictures, and from looking at them, your relatives will be able to reflect on what excited you, what interested you, and more importantly, the sort of person you were. Now use your imagination and try and see those pictures. What are they of? Where did you take them? What were you feeling at the time? What did you want to say (this one is much harder)? Are they colour or black and white? What do you care about? What is important to you? Answers to these questions are all grist to your mill..
Most importantly, write them down.
Now if I may talk about the following in others’ footsteps thing. Every artist does it. Art student learn to look at the works of the Masters, to understand what they were on about, and to take from their work those things of importance. It is called the artist’s model. There’s nothing wrong with it; all the great artists have done it. Claude Monet studied the work of great painters; Picasso looked to African art for his ideas, and David Hockney sought of his inspiration from Picasso. Picasso and Hockney are, as artists, distinctly different in both their philosophies and their approach, yet there is a clear link between the two of them. The trick here is to take from your role models what you need (it may be technical, conceptual, or process-oriented), absorb it through emulation, then filter it through your own experience, understanding, and philosophy on life. Do this last thing and you cannot help making work that is unique. Where you can come unstuck is in the emulation process. If all you do is copy what the greats have done then you will never move on. Filtration through yourself is the most important and critical phase.
Again, you need the strength of character, the bloody mindedness if necessary and a certain dogged determination to do it. A good friend and successful artist, Peter Caley, maintains that it takes around 20 years to mature as an artist. If you look at the biographies of the great artists, it is amazing how many of them really only got going from the age of 50 onwards. Ignore the prodigies like Manet, Picasso and Hockney. Munch, Minor White and Atget all really kicked into gear in later life. I cannot help feeling that in many cases, life experience is the spice you need to add distinctive flavour to your work. Of course that means knowing what that spice is, it means reflecting on both who you are and where you have been (the one leads to the other) and then consciously using it to inform your own work.
And that means using a visual diary.
Marthinus, I hope this is of some use to you. As I write this, it occurs to me this is something everybody reading my Blog should see. I would very much like, with your permission, to be able to publish it as an ongoing discussion on my Blog. Before I do that have ever I need your permission to include both your statements and questions, so that people can follow our conversation and provide their own take on it through the comments. If you’re strong enough for this, please e-mail me back and I’ll get it underway. What I would really like is for you to supply one or two of your own pictures. I need them sized to about 600 pixels along the long side, at 96. dpi, and in sRGB colour space. Pick one or two photographs you are happy to share with the planet.
Lovely to hear from you. I hope this was of some use. Let’s keep this conversation going.
Groete:
Tony Bridge

Hi Tony
Thanks for the practical guidance to keep a visual diary. Already started. You have an excellent way to explain things, I can actually understand! Also you don’t leave it at saying what is the thing to do, but explains how and why.
I think the most difficult thing you could ask me to do is to choose one or two of my images and sent them to the planet. It is not that I have thousands to choose from, but I tend to have difficulty to choose (in everything in life). Normally I’m afraid to choose one image and then on the end I don’t. Want to start with a bang, most of the time can’t and then I do nothing. But I know I have to start anywhere in order to progress to somewhere I want to be. So here are two images:
Title: The sea. When I took this image it reminded me of a movie I saw by Guiseppe Tornatore, called “Legend of 1900?. If you haven’t seen it, please do so. To quote a sentence from the movie where a Frenchmen explains what incident changed his take on life. He was walking up a hill and for the first time he saw the ocean. He explains that he heard the voice of the sea: “The voice of the sea, it is like a shout, big and strong, screaming and screaming, and the thing it was screaming was: Life is immense, can you understand that life is immense.” It is as if these “trumpets” are screaming the same, a silent scream, the person in the photo does not hear it, but the birds do. This is almost a life statement for me: “Life is immense”.

I was actually doing photographs for a wedding and the couple decided to have their shots taken at this old farm. I had a look at the area and there was enough potential. On the day, a warm day in summer, that we did the photographs, I stumbled upon this cement chair. It is a smaller version of what the chair normally looks like, a very standard 70’s outside chair for people in South Africa. It was standing next to an abandoned green swimming pool and the whole area were overgrown and full of old leafs as it gathered over the years with no maintenance. I sent the couple to a spot I knew and made a couple of images. Tried it at a third from left, lower angle etc. but the best one was this one, the way I saw it first. Just there, and empty. Reason being, when I saw it as I walked around the wall it showed me how I actually felt inside that day an actually the last couple of months that time. It actually gave me shivers and I knew I had to photograph it, just the way I saw it.
Not sure if you asked for explanations for these. Hope you can do something with these, I can also send others. I know these won’t do very well at club competitions!
Hope to hear from you soon.
Baie dankie
Marthinus
Morena Marthinus:
Firstly, my apologies for having been so long in responding. It has been a ferociously busy time for me, what with workshops, weddings and an exhibition. But the seasons are changing and I am moving into a different space.
For a time.
I sat for some time, studying these photographs and then thinking about your explanation for them. A number of things spring to mind and I will let them out, in no particular order. Bear in mind that these are my thoughts at the moment, that what I say today will almost certainly change tomorrow.
There is a reason for this. Great images, intriguing images, allow us to visit them in different ways and from different angles. They intrigue because they come from different places, are constantly shifting and allow a variety of interpretations. They almost have a life of their own, and like the children we raise, are constantly evolving. Both of these images seem, to me, to belong to this ever-mutating category.
But wait, there is more. I think there is a continuum here. At one end is the hard news photograph, such as we see in a newspaper. A friend, who was once illustrations editor for a major city newspaper, explained how photographers were trained to shoot images that a reader would completely comprehend in no more than 4 seconds. Captioning just added in extra details. If it took any longer the photograph would be rejected. Look at any image in your major daily and you will see what I mean. I cannot help feeling that many photographers seek to do this.
To my mind much of what I am called to comment on in photographic club competitions is at this end of the continuum. Frequently the statement they make is obvious, often perfectly produced, but little else. It is a bit like eating McDonalds or Wimpys. There is the original taste burst then…nothing. What there is is self-evident, blatant and, ultimately…unsatisfying. The great photographer Ansel Adams wrote something along the lines of ” there is nothing worse than the brilliant execution of a fuzzy concept”. How true. Much of this fuzziness comes from being derivative (read: emulating what others have done before) or decorative (read: I wonder what frame I will choose to hang that on my lounge wall or I don’t know much about ART, but I know what I like). The pleasure is instant, a flavour burst that fades quickly. Inevitably pictures of this ilk have short half-lives and minimal relevance to a wider audience.
Great photographs are like fine French food or a Stellenbosch red. The flavour keeps on coming, the interest continues, the complexity develops rather than fades away. This is the other end of the spectrum. Images of this type ask more questions than they answer. As they should. I think it was Edward Steichen who stated, “The mission of photography is to explain Man to Man, and each man to himself”. Beyond that is a rare zone where people make statements that are incomprehensible to all but those literati who speak the language. Frankly, I have difficulty seeing the point, so I tend to be rather dismissive of this work. I know I should not be.
I am really interested in your interpretation of your own works. I have to say that it is not my own. The Sea is a very complex image that took me quite some time to read. It has a multiplicity of layers, and the readings just kept on coming. Detail upon detail made itself known, and in the end it was those birds and the perfect moment you captured in that tiny part of the picturespace that pinned it in place. As I reflected on it (Minor White maintained you could not understand an image until you had spent at least 3 concentrated minutes studying it), I came to see the Munch-like schrei of the ventilators as a metaphor for man’s attempts to circumscribe Nature, for the dehumanising influence of modernism and Post-modernism, that Nature will, in spite of our best efforts (the birds), do what She does. You own reading is a product of who you are and what you feel. This is as it should be. I guess then, in a sense, we are not so far apart.
You will note I have said little about the composition and technique. Nor will I. It is the ideas that draw me, and I have long held that if my attention is drawn to to the picture-making methodology, then there is little to consider. Good technique should support a statement rather than overpowering it.
Put bluntly, this is a supremely accomplished photograph that offers me much to consider.
Your second image, of the chair, has real overtones of the New Topographics movement that began around 1975. New What? I hear you say. Here is a definition from Wikipedia:
New Topographics is a movement in photographic art in which the landscape is depicted without sentimental representation of the world we inhabit as being a place we do not exist in. It is sometimes seen as a reaction against utopian representations in landscape photography, of the sort exemplified by Ansel Adams’ photographs of Yosemite; depicting only unfettered nature at a time when industrialization was at its peak in the American economy. The photographers in the New Topographics style show landscapes that include roads, housing projects, bridges, and other aspects of the landscape which show the traces of human activity. The 1975 exhibition New Topographics: Photographs of a Man-Altered Landscape defines this movement.
There is a sense of a reminder of former human presence. It alludes to things that happened in the past, but no longer take place. The colour scheme of the image, which so perfectly reinforces the tenor of the image, really reminds me of the work of William Eggleston, Lewis Baltz or Robert Adams (you might want to check them out). There is a curious ennui present in the image that somehow points to the transience of Man and his works.
As I read this, I am reminded of how this conversation began, when you asked me what I felt when I made photographs. . I wonder if you were really asking me to confirm that you were reading my work correctly….
Now it is your turn. I hereby pass the baton back.
Ka kite ano
Tony:
Just had a quick look. I’ve double spaced it, printed it out and am going to read it at home with my feet up and one of those reds you are talking about in my hand.Tony, your reply is an artwork itself! Thanks
Groete
Added 31 March, 2007
Goeie môre Tony!
I find it very exciting that you describe some photographs as constantly shifting and allow a variety of interpretations. I think the thing that bothers me about perfectly executed “nice” photographs is just that, they are “nice”. And they are. But every time I look at them, they just stay “nice”. Your description of McDonalds food hit the nail on its head. Some are nicer than others and there are appreciation for good technique and visual design. But many times I end up with “nice” in my head. Must admit, I have taken many of these. Still working on the technique and visual design though, but as Ansel Adams said: “the Way to Art is through Craft, not around it”. You mentioned this as well. I just know my photography fall so much short of what I want it to be.
Thought this was good:
‘A Ming vase can be well designed and well made and is beautiful for that reason alone. I don’t think this can be so true of photography. Unless there is something a little incomplete and a little strange, it will simply look like a copy of something pretty. We won’t take an interest in it’.
John Loerngard “Pictures under Discussion”
I recently returned from a visual design photo tour with Freeman Patterson here in Namaquland. He mentioned something (among many other things!) that made me think. He said that the problem with a postcard photo is that there is no problem, all is perfect and all is said. It never rains. Nothing is left for mystery or to intrigue.
I thought about this. A friend of mine once asked me whether it is my mood or current feeling that determines the cd I will place in my cd player to listen to. Or, on the other hand, is my mood, interpretation or emotions determined by the melody or rhythm of the music I listen to. Being a music lover and having a fairly wide variety in taste thereof, I was rather fascinated by this question. First, I suppose I have to like it in a way, what ever it is. And then, well I guess it is both. The reason I am saying this is I wonder if it is in a way similar to photography. Sometimes I am especially intrigued by an image because it so accurately paints the way I am feeling at that time, then it is amazing! When I view the image again, it will either remind me of what I felt or in a way helped me to deal with or understand that feeling. Placing it in the open and qualify it. Other times I would be strangely intrigued by a photograph and I can’t place why at first. Normally these keep opening up to me as I study it, and then later again. I learn new and different things. I suppose it is what you meant with one that constantly evolves. I wonder if it is us who evolve and as it goes with being human, our feelings change and thus our interpretations. In other words, are our understanding of and image controlled by OUR feelings, or is it by the image? As is the case with my music. I may think with great images, as you say images that are like French food or a Stellenbosch red (I could not say it better!), do both these. Sometimes my own feelings determine my appeal to an image. Other times, the image itself, speaks enough to determine my emotional response. Suppose the same goes with why we make them. Hope I make sense…?
If I understand you correctly you are saying that we like some photographs because they induce an emotional response in us. These images grow with us (and us with them) and as we and our emotion changes over time, so we perceive different things in them. Ever evolving.
This is how I want to photograph. To either feel something and try to express it in an image or photograph something that appeal to me and let it grow with me, ever changing and evolving. I suppose that if we let ourselves photograph the way we feel, we are writing our own biography over time (even though we may not realise it). If we photograph what others feel or do and be derivative (like you said), we are writing someone else’s history. News images, record general history. This probably goes with your quote from Edward Streichen: “… to explain Man to Man, and each man to himself”.
I must say that I like what you mention about studying an images for at least three concentrated minutes to understand it. So easy today I will walk to the next image too soon. I need to have more patience with this. Thanks very much for studying mine Tony. I though your comments and interpretations were very interesting (you are teaching me quite a bit about art!). What you mentioned about the New Topographics (New what! ;-)) was actually absolutely exactly how I felt. No pretences, no false beauty, just as it is.
I also struggle with images that are as you say in that rare zone beyond understanding. I suppose, if you want to tell a story or speak a truth, you must use the language of the people. But I also need more patience with this. Is this a craft?
Reading your work correctly, yes, in a way I am never sure whether I am reading an artists work correctly. I remember in school when we did poetry, my brother would always write down notes from the teacher interpretation. He would then also write what he thought and his interpretation of the poem. Not sure which one is right, or exactly what the poet meant (you know which one to study if you want to pass the exam!). The other day, at one of our club evaluation evenings, I interpreted something in a photograph that someone displayed and it was so amazing to me that I had to share what I thought with everyone. On the end of the evening I spoke to the person who took the image and to him it was only a nice architectural shot, nothing more really. I felt a bit stupid, but actually it does not matter to me. I still remember the photographs and it still speaks to me! Thanks to the photographer!
What I can say about interpreting your work. Yes, I always wonder if I interpret correctly. Sometimes I wonder if it matters, as long as I interpret something that speaks to me. I always want to hear from the photographer how he interprets his own work. If you want to, you can specify a couple of images from your website. I will keep the baton you passed me and try to interpret them. Then I can see whether I understand your thoughts on them. Would learn a lot from this.
I wish we could have this discussion in person, since I believe it will lead to such an interesting conversation and might last more than one of those Stellenbosch reds! However, I learn so much from having to write this, since I force myself to really sit for a time and consider, ponder and absorb what you said.
Thanks for your time Tony.
Marthinus
Morena Marthinus:
I do apologise for taking so long to respond to your last letter. It is not that I have been avoiding it, or even, Heaven forbid, that I did not want to. Moving out of my beloved Maniototo has been a huge wrench, and shifting (my 3rd major move around the country in a year) and settling has been more traumatic than I have realised. While I have returned to Christchurch, a year living in remote parts of the South Island has grown within me a love for and sense of affinity with the wild places which is hard to part with. The Maniototo has much in common with Africa, in terms of its vast sense of scale and the temporal nature of Life. Living there is not for the weak. You either grow or implode. Only now have I begun to feel settled enough to catch up with the demands of running my own business, getting work out, teaching and getting some forward traction. Frankly I have been so exhausted that it has been enough to get through a day. But things are clearer now.
What has sustained me has been a local wetland nearby, purchased by our city council to preserve it, and which has now become a major bird sanctuary for the district. Each morning my sense of being locked into the narrow parameters of the cityscape and listening to the restless animal that is a city has been alleviated by the sounds of birds and observing wings of passing geese (wings seems more appropriate than gaggles) heading to and from the sanctuary. I use the word sanctuary, because for about 1-2 months from the beginning of May, it is open season in New Zealand on ducks, geese and other waterbirds. Ponds all over this country become death-traps for them, apart from the safe havens in towns and reserves, where shooting is prohibited. It never fails to amaze me how the birds know when duck-shooting time is coming around. For weeks beforehand the ponds and rivers become swollen with them as they come in to safe havens. When it is all over, they are gone again. Do ducks carry calendars?
You may be wondering why I am writing this. There is a point, and by and by, I will get to it.
Now that I have time to think, I want to respond to your last letter and see if I can add to the discussion. The Steichen quote, as I now look at it should be”.. each man to himself, and Man to Man”, in that order. If we are to be truly creative, then each of us must needs come to know himself, for it is from that sense of Self that original, non-derivative work will come. I know that I have talked about this before, but I want to explore it further.
I see a lot of highly-competent photography every day. The Internet is full of skilled practitioners, all jostling for position and inhabiting an increasingly-crowded space. Digital photography has only hastened that. Once technical proficiency would generally separate the pros from the amateurs. No more. Now if I Google ‘landscape’ or ‘portraiture’ or ‘documentary’, millions of websites will appear. Fine Art also throws up vast numbers of sites with images that show only the most rudimentary understanding of what FA actually is. Inevitably they are either technically excellent and boring, or exciting and technically bad. Ansel Adams wrote; there is nothing worse than a sharp image of a fuzzy concept. How true. I would include: There is also nothing worse than a fuzzy image of a sharp concept! So what makes the difference? What makes us look at the work of James Nachtwey and gasp? What makes us look in stunned amazement at the work of Duane Michals?
I would suggest that there are a number of possible answers.
Firstly, there is passion. Not the feel-good need to win a competition or sell an image. That is not about the subject. That is about ego or fiscal imperative. When you work in this way, you are never going to get very far. Inevitably all a viewer/reader sees is the (often-displayed) imperative of the organisation or group status with which the plaintiff identifies. Much of the work is formulaic and subject-unresponsive. I move on. Quickly. The passion I am talking about is driven by a fascination for the subject and a sense of commitment to it. Freeman is passionate about the natural world, about the rhythms of Nature and it shows. Last year, when I had the honour of visiting your club, I saw Johan de Beyer’s work, and it blew me away. His commitment is extraordinary and the results speak for themselves. His photographs of African wildlife are passionate, excellent and outstanding. His commitment is beyond question. When I saw his Landcruiser for the first time and saw all the time, effort and expense that had gone into providing the means to go out there and do it, I knew he was passionate. Sure, he might win a few awards and sell images, but it is clearly evident that is not why he does it. See his images and it becomes obvious. Meet the man and the feeling is reinforced. I hold his work in the highest regard. From passion comes commitment.
And there are dues to be paid. Commitment inevitably demands sacrifice. Johan will have spent long hours out in the desert, waiting for the Moment. He could have been at home, tucked up in front of his television set. He is however passionate about his picture-making and committed to it.
Secondly, there is Love. Love for the subject. Not the romantic, feel-good, I-just-love-photographing-flowers approach. That is cheesy and sentimental and is really about the photographer’s ego again. I am talking about love as understanding and a desire to understand. From Love comes understanding. From understanding comes approach and attitude. A good friend and amazing photographer, Sally Mason, has both of these. That is why her photographs of flowers are so stand-out, and were so long before others had thought of making them in this way. She knew her subject intimately, understood the flower-ness of flowers and how to grow them-by extension, how they grew and what they needed. They were her friends. I have been there when she talked to them. Her delight in the natural world,in particular the world of flowers ,is the joy of loving your subject. It shows in her pictures.
Then there is Light. This is not technical. It is about Seeing in the first instance, Knowing in the second and Understanding in the third. You must firstly be able to see the direction, quality and temperature of light. Then you must come to know what it does. After that you must understand its effect and effects. For light allows us to see, to know and to understand. Without light there is nothing to see. Therefore we must understand it. When I began my career as a photographer, I would often marvel at the ability of the masters to capture subject in the most amazing light. So I studied it, attempting to see through the eyes of great painters such as Rembrandt so I could come to see it. I studied the science of light so I could know what it did and what it was. I wanted to understand it. And when I arrogantly thought I had mastered it, I realised I was back at the beginning. Studying light is an endless and endlessly fascinating subject. I never stop learning something new.
But there is something else. It is Self. And this is the point I have been driving towards. To reach that extra level means knowing yourself, who you are and where you are trying to go in your life ( I am not talking about career here. Too few photographers make, are willing, or are able to make this investment. A recent interview I read with Duane Michals sums it up for me:
Karl: Duane, how did you come to be Duane Michals as we know him today?
Duane: With me, it’s all been about thinking. I don’t walk around with a camera waiting for something to take a picture of. I never did. Essentially, I’ve always been introspective, and it’s always been there, the notion that the mind is the source of everything. I’m an anomaly in photography because I don’t believe in the eyes!
If you look at the works of the truly greats, they all had a point to make. Adams was concerned with Nature, Cartier-Bresson was concerned with Life and the universality of the moment, Michals was looking into the afterlife and the surrealism of the quotidian. Winogrand was exploring the nature of the act of photography.
I know this discussion is veering towards the academic, but the point I am trying to make is this; if you don’t invest in yourself and invest yourself in your work( a scary thing to do), then how is it possible to move past the documentary to the expressive and self-expressive?
You mention the question of reading too much or The Wrong Thing into an image. You talk of your brother’s experience with his teacher. I know what you mean. To start with in my later school years, I would feel the same way about what my English teacher was telling me. Then, as I progressed through university and studied works in different languages and traditions by myself, I began to appreciate the warp and weft of symbolism and metaphor in literature. It definitely exists in photography as well. In New Zealand they teach reading of film and stills in English classes and call it visual text. At first I thought the term pretentious, but now I see that it is quite accurate. In a world relying increasingly on visual language as a means of communication, visual symbolism is becoming increasingly important.
I think it is possible to be overly-concerned with the correctness of analysis. If an image allows a variety of interpretations, surely that makes it stronger and more significant. As you point out, a postcard says it all and leaves nothing to the imagination. But then its interpretation is one that is largely literal and leaves no room for roaming without restraint, for allowing intellect and imagination free rein.
What then are the metaphors and symbols for your own beliefs, values and life experiences? I would venture to suggest that they are right there in front of you already. You have only to unpack them.
I can hear the question already. Let me share an image and my interpretation of it. So often the photograph will come and I spend time afterwards coming to an understanding of it. Here is one such.
For some years now I have made the journey from the East Coast of the South Island to the West Coast. The road, some 240km in length winds through the mountains and passes an area known as Craigieburn. To the left is an area of exotic plantings, originally done in the 1960’s to trial the effects of exotics at altitude, and as a way of halting erosion. For some years I have tried to photograph this stand of trees, with no success, As you may gather from my artist’s statement, trees are important to me, exotics no less so. They have their own personalities, quite different from native trees. They are increasingly finding their way into my opus, and for the moment I am not sure why, but I have to trust the process.
Coming back the week before last, I came up out of the cutting and there they were. It was late autumn, and the light was soft and diffused. They called to me and so I stopped, got out my equipment and spent a glorious 40 minutes with them. Somehow the contrast between the young pines in the bottom and top of the frame, and the yellow of the remaining foliage on the larches spoke to me of the cycle of the year and, by extension, of the Cycle of Life, a motif that has become increasingly important in both my work and my life. The raw strength and strong hues of the young pines accentuated the apparent fragility and almost monochromatic qualities of the exposed trunks and branches in the centre. It seemed to me a hymn to the cooling ashes of the year. It also spoke to me of the cycles of birth, death and rebirth that we all undergo many times in our lives. In a way it seemed also to remind me of the real meaning of Easter, that the crucifixion is really sending us the message that to be renewed, we must be willing to allow old ways to die, much as a snake sheds its skin and emerges transformed.
It is an image that is still talking to me, and drawing together the disparate threads of the different beliefs to which I have been exposed.
Now it is your turn.

I made this image a couple of weeks ago, while on a fieldtrip with one of my classes. It was dawn and we were working along the pier at the beach. I was fascinated by the rhythm of the ocean. As i was making a series of images, a seagull flew towards me, and into the frame. I kept shooting and a feeling of excitement gripped me, as if I was discovering something for the first time. The blur just under the top of the frame is the shadow of the bird. I await your comment.
It has taken me some time to return the serve, but the ball is now back on your side of the net….
Arohanui e
Hallouda Tony
Think this time I broke the record for taking long in responding! Similar to what you mentioned, I’ve also been through some changes lately. Being part time in photography, I moved into a different division at my daytime job and it suddenly demanded a lot more time from me. However, I now work with ocean related projects and (as you may know), I love the sea.
About a month ago I got stuck at an airport for about 4 hours due to my flight being delayed (eventually got home at 4am!). Being without laptop or anything else, I only had my notebook and a printed copy of our complete conversation with me (was planning to read it while I was away, but could not find the time). I reflected on it all again. From where and why you stated to use a visual diary, what you said you feel when you make those amazing images, all the quotes we discussed and also the Stellenbosch reds I had in thinking and feeling through all this. I was forced to stop and spent time with our conversation, what a pleasure!
As with your previous words, once again, you write amazing, clear and inspiring letters. I find the way you explain and choose words to clarify your statements vastly beyond how I would dream to do it. It is very inspiring to me.
Thinking and reading all this again, I still understand that what you mentioned about knowing oneself, knowing what you would like to say and really wanting to say it is the key to it all. Then I experience myself as way behind with all of this. My concerns are just daily things, but many of them. And I don’t find the time to always keep the diary or reflect on my life, what I feel and what I think or what I want to communicate. However, I believe there is light in this, like you said, things are clearer now. I recall that your good friend, Peter Caley, maintains that it takes around 20 years to mature as an artist and that life experience is many times the spice you need to add that distinctive (individual) flavour to your work. So I have hope again. Like you said, this is a work in progress, so I can write and explore what I feel.
You teach the following:
Real passion about a subject leads to Commitment. And a deep love for your subject teaches Understanding, and from that your approach and attitude towards it. The ability to see, know and understand Light is a continuous learning process and enables us to get to know our subject’s many faces, part of understanding it and knowing how to relate to it (please tell me if I am missing the point).
Starting at the start, I am again trying to know were my passion lie. What is the subject or number of subjects that creates that excitement and fascination you mention? And why? As part of my visual diary, I want to go back and have a look at the images I liked and the reasons for it. Why I liked it, what part about it I liked, do I still like it, what did I think when I photographed. This should take me further to the next step of discovering the desire to understand the subject. Hope these steps will lead me on that path that Dune Michals calls being introspective and to realize what it is that I am on about. This should also explain me to myself, and then to man. I agree with your order for the Steichen quote and believe this is an ongoing process, a bit of trail and error. I should not start with the camera, I should start with myself.
I think the current quote on your site is applicable to know one’s subject.
“As with all my work, whether it’s a leaf on a rock or ice on a rock, I’m trying to get beneath the surface appearance of things. Working the surface of a stone is an attempt to understand the internal energy of the stone.”
-Andy Goldsworthy
I would still like to discuss the question Peregrina asked in April regarding the statement by John Loerngard, why a ming vase can be beautiful because it is skilfully made and the same is not true for photography. One reason could be that the skill to create a ming vase is probably a lot more that to successfully execute a technically correct photograph. This will tie in with what you mention about the fact that there are currently so many technically good photographers around. But maybe it is more. Maybe it is a matter of expectation. Or maybe the skill to create a perfectly executed ming vase is something that has been practised for a thousand years and that stays the challenge. How do you communicate through a vase (this sounds funny!). Maybe it is because photography is in actual fact a means to creatively communicate, and that is the attribute that gives it the value and shows why a technically perfect executed image that does not speak is nothing more than a skill well developed. And here I would choose the ming vase by far. I want to ponder more on this.
Now, about your images
Your image of the Cycle of Life I find amazing. Your interpretation of it speaks so strong. I agree that it talks about a new beginning, shedding of the old skin, like the crucifixion. I did an interesting thing. I printed our conversation quickly at work for a proper read at home, it was printed black and white. When I saw your image of the trees in b&w, it suddenly became a much stronger image to me, although I actually like the colour one more. With the b&w one you can see the skeletons of the old exposed trees so much more. You can feel the fragility you mentioned in them and the strength of the young ones. The young ones still have time to shed the old skin and be transformed, but it is as if the old trunks almost had their chance, hence the skeletons. However, from the b&w they almost seems elevated from the rest, ready to leave. They made the right choices in life. Funny why I actually like your colour image more, maybe because it talks to me about slow and peaceful afternoons and shows that time can stand still.
Your image of the rhythm of the ocean…
I showed it to a good friend of mine, Christiaan, who happens to be a surfer. His interpretation: “that is definitely a good surf coming, the wave period must be about 12 seconds” (which means good surf, by the way!).
I immediately saw the gull, have been trying to capture the same movement a couple of times before in my images. I maintained what you mention about Minor White and studied the image for (quite) a long time (and it still grows on me). What came to mind after a while was rather different to my first observations. At first the subject of the image was the lines in the water and the light swell that is on its way. It spoke to me of calm water (the hues in the sky accentuated it), but the water being dark, prevent showing all that live inside, big, small, dangerous, friendly etc. And that, to the living under the textured water, it does not matter whether it is day or night, it just carries on with life. To understand and know light, will teach more about the sea. The sea is a person with many faces and does not reveal anything unless you take the time and search inside, or within, for that matter. It spoke to me of the many faces (or thoughts) we as people sometimes have and how difficult is must often be for those around us to learn to understand and know us. The image is also vast, like my metaphor. This is exciting and again speaks to me about the fact that “life is immense!”
After a while your image spoke a bit differently to me. A deeper meaning away from myself and people. The gull became the subject and I was reminded of how I believe all started. “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light ‘day’ and the darkness he called ‘night’. And there was evening, and there was morning - the first day.” Genesis 1:1-5 (NIV). And there’s your image! I understand that the image would not speak the same to all, especially not to our friends that do not believe in creation like I do. But that is what came to my mind and it still does when I look at it. And what was interesting to me was that your image took me back to my bible to read that passage again and reflect on it, how great my creator God is. He created all from starting with that couple of verses. Life is in fact immense!
You mention that a feeling of excitement gripped you as you made the shot. I would then say, it is an image well executed, because I can feel what you felt when you kept shooting. I love the image. Without the gull, it would not hold the same depth. You say it was as if you discovered something for the first time, I would love to know what it was… And what you felt and want to say with it…
Thank you Tony
Groete
Marthinus

>Part II