The decisive moment
The definition of artistic success, empty aesthetics, and the Algorithm™
My mother keeps asking me to upload photos I’ve taken over the course of our trip here to our family KakaoTalk chat.
“What is the point of having such expensive camera equipment,” she complained, “if you never share your pictures?”
I get this a lot from my mother, especially when we travel together. (Which we do often.) I never upload anything fast enough for her.
“I need to edit them first,” I replied.
“You always say that,” she retorted. “And yet, you never share.”
She’s not entirely wrong. I never share anything that isn’t edited to some extent, and that’s not just photos. Sketches, drawings, photos, videos, writing...indeed, what is the point of any art if you’re not going to share?
I think about this a lot, mostly because I’ve been wrestling with the question of why I publish for the past several years. Of course, this does beg the question of whether or not my photography is art at all, but that is somewhat beside the point. I think the point is that the reason I take photos differs from my mother’s. For her, photography is documentary, a record, an archive of activities she’s done, the food she’s eaten, and the places she seen.
For me, photography is an attempt to capture, to shape, to curate my point-of-view. What I see, what I notice, and why. But photography also exists as a form of documentary for me as well, just not in the same way as my mother’s. The reason I edit my photos is that it is often in the editing suite that I discover the story.
In many ways, that isn’t all that different from the way I write. I don’t often know the Point until I’ve written a first draft, and it is often only during the revision process — the editing suite, if you will — that I discover what it is.
Yet photography as a creative endeavor is also different from writing, or at least from writing a novel. The advantage of a novel is infinite space — both internally and in words — to explore an idea. Because of that infinite potential space, I usually start writing with some vague sense of the destination in mind, the theme or feeling or mood I am writing toward.
But because a story must be contained in a single image in photography, the process is inverted for me. I usually don’t know the Point of anything until I’ve sifted through all the exposures I’ve taken that day and notice a single detail that brings the image together.
This is, of course, different still from the way I take photos for Instagram, where I grudgingly admit I must make content rather than art in order to appease the Almighty Algorithm.™ There is also a difference between art I create for me and content I create to be consumed. I look over the photos I take and feel something about the images, even though I know it has none of the empty aesthetics the Algorithm will promote. As such, I often don’t know what to do with the photos I take that don’t fall into the content bucket anymore, so I often keep them to myself (although I may share them to Chat or my private Instagram account).
And to be honest, the photos I like are terrible for the Algorithm. They don’t say the right things (oh hello, artistic wound) — instead of telling Instagram that I’m an Author, the photos I like will probably just confuse my audience. In a feed full of book-related content, what would a photograph like this say?
If I were a street photography account, perhaps this image would make sense in context, but I am not. I don’t really mind making content — there is satisfaction in creating with constraints, even if I’m creating for utility’s sake instead of connection.
But that does leave me a bit at odds with what to do with my photos that aren’t created to be content. I do want to share them, to find that connection, but where?
The honest truth is, unless you were already interested in my point-of-view, I doubt my photos say anything to you at all. And that’s okay. But it’s also why I’m reticent to upload them to my family KakaoTalk chat; they’re not seeking an artistic connection with me. They want reportage, not a highly edited point-of-view.
Not vision.
If everything I write comes from my artistic wound, then it would follow that everything I photograph comes from that same wound, yes?
I’m not sure.
I don’t entirely know where and how photography falls in terms of the art I create, but that may only be a function of the fact that I am incredibly amateur, without much practice or a body of work to reveal common themes. Or perhaps it’s because photography is a visual art form, and therefore requires a different artistic fixation than writing.
Whether or not the artistic wound remains the same across both disciplines, I know where both creative impulses start.
People.
In the mid-aughts, the USA network’s tagline was Characters Welcome, and to some extent, I feel like that slogan informs where I begin in all my artistic pursuits. In high school, when I curated my AP Art Portfolio in visual arts conservatory, I focused on Portraiture as my concentration. I am endlessly, relentlessly fascinated by people, to the point where I would sketch and draw complete strangers for an academic grade.
Characters are also where my novels shine. I’m not in the habit of paying myself too many compliments, but if there is one thing I take pride in with regards to my writing, it’s that my characters breathe. They may not always be likable, but they are vivid, memorable, and real.
When it comes to shooting photos, I’m always on the lookout for moments, because it is in these little details where a person comes alive for me. The Korean flag in the first photo, the gesture of the dalgona vendor’s finger in the second. The flowers in a little girl’s hair and the mismatched scholar’s-hat-and-royal-robes combination of her brother’s outfit in the third. The way a schoolboy flounces the embroidered skirts of a girl’s hanbok in the fourth. The resigned, flat-footed squat of a man on a cigarette break below.
There is nothing in this world that does not have a decisive moment.
— Cardinal Retz, from The Decisive Moment by Henri Cartier-Bresson
I think what famed photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson called the decisive moment is what I call the Point. In his essay (linked above) about the decisive moment, Cartier-Bresson considers the elements and qualities that make a decisive moment, the ineffable combination of timing, contrivance, and intuition that come together to create impact. That impact, like all art, is subjective — what I find arresting in a scene other people might not even notice or care about.
But therein lies the rub: after all, isn’t the measure of artistic success just how successfully we are able to communicate the decisive moment and its impact?
I feel relatively assured of my skills with the written word, but when it comes to images, I know I’m nothing but a dilettante. And I’m okay with that. I’m not trying to literally profit off my photos. They’re something I create for me, and me alone.
So I guess I won’t be uploading them to the family KakaoTalk chat.
Sorry, Mum.
"In a feed full of book-related content, what would a photograph like this say?"
Though I am not The Algorithm, I would welcome it. Solely book-related accounts make me feel like the account is a "brand" - whereas I prefer to be reminded that the account is run by a PERSON. Instead of just PROMOTING, I like to see that an account is simply BEING.