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So I am assuming that some photographs represent what the eye is capable of seeing, what of those that do not accurately reflect what is seen? Do the more surrealistic photographs have no weight in representing what is seen or are they just as accurate? Take for example Plate 2; it is the same photograph as in Plate 1, yet quite different at the same time. This is an example of a snapshot photograph that has been manipulated by me to an end that I see fit. It began life as the photograph in Plate 1, but has ended up looking different. Much about the photograph has changed in some way. The lighting is different, the color, the feel, even the overall tone of the photograph has changed. This photograph puts you in a different place than the photograph in Plate 1. The color is not natural; it has been manipulated into something else. I remember the day that I took the original photograph, and I do not recall it looking anything like that. Instead of the cold morning sand that is shown in Plate 1, we see a warm morning sunrise that looks more like an afternoon sunset. The intense sun has deepened the shadows into pools of black cut off from each other by the warm sand. The sky has deepened to reveal a sharp backdrop of crusty mountainous terrain offset by the soft warm sand. The foliage on the right-hand side proves that some things can in fact grow, or once grew, in such a harsh environment. There are many ways that Plate 1 and Plate 2 are nothing alike, yet they are the same. They are the same image yet one image has been manipulated to look differently from what was actually represented on that chilly morning. So, is Plate 2 an accurate representation of that subtle Death Valley morning? Is one representation better than the other, or are the ‘Photorealistic View’ (Plate 1) and what I am going to call the ‘Artist View’ (Plate 2) essentially the same?

Plate 1 | Plate 2

Before this question gets answered, it is important to answer some other questions beforehand. Do photographs represent reality? Reality is a tricky word to define. But when I speak of reality, I speak in the sense that we share some common view of the world that is held together through society. For example, in “The Paradoxes Of Art” by Alan Paskow, he states that we have a fairly definite idea of what things are dictated by society. Namely, there are universal ideas that society can agree upon; such as a pen is a pen and not something else such as a hammer.
Even though it can be argued that between any two people the idea of reality changes greatly, there is some common idea of reality that most can attest to. Given that photographs are in many cases an accurate representation of what is there, I believe they are also an accurate representation of one’s reality. I believe that if someone else was standing by me on that morning in Death Valley his or her ‘Photorealistic View’ might be much different. The colors between us for example could be slightly different because the pigment in our eyes was of a different shade. But I believe that even though it may be true that not everyone sees Plate 1 exactly the way I do, it is close enough in proximity to discuss philosophically. So, do photographs represent reality? Yes, in many ways. Photographs represent my reality, your reality, her reality, his reality, and many others in between. If photographs represent reality they must be inextricably linked to the world through many avenues. Because of this they have significance.
Photographs are obviously linked to the world through us because we are the ones in fact taking the photographs. We are the ones pulling that shutter open, framing the view, choosing exactly what we want the viewer to see, and manipulating that view to no end in some cases. Sometimes we are even the subject matter of our photographs. If photographs are in fact linked to us, to when end are they linked? How deep does the connection go? I believe the connection to not be skin deep. Many photographs are linked to us on a much deeper level than one would initially think. For example someone could be linked to a photograph of a place that one has been before and feel connected to it on many levels. He may have a fond memory of that place, for example, or perhaps he climbed to the top of the sand dune one morning on a family trip; there is no end to which one can feel linked to a photograph.
It is also possible for a person to feel linked to a photograph in which they have never been to the place it depicts or seen anything like it depicts in their life. However I do believe it necessary for the viewer to have some idea of what it is they are looking at. Nevertheless I have felt linked to many the photograph of the exotic desert island or the remote glaciated landscape, regardless of whether I have been there or not. Why? Because if there is one constant in this discussion, I believe it to be that photographs are inextricably linked to us not just on a physical level but, more importantly, on an emotional level as well. It is true that we are emotional beings, and if photographs are in fact linked to us, it stands to reason that they can be emotionally linked to the world and us.
Landscapes are not the only photographs people can feel linked to. We are obviously linked in the world to each other, so it is possible to feel linked to a portrait of a person we have never seen before. Plate 3 and 4 are the best examples I have ever felt of photographs that provoke an emotional response. Plate 3 is a Pulitzer Prize winning photograph of a women in Kosovo by Michael Williamson, while Plate 4 is of Owens Valley by Ansel Adams. One is black and white and of a landscape and one is a portrait and in color. Two completely different photographs in almost every way, yet they have an effect on me: an intense welling up of emotion. I have never seen the women in Plate 3 before, yet for some reason I feel connected with her. Her portrait has provoked an intense emotional reaction in me. I feel it easy to relate to her, to feel sympathy for her situation. Her face tells a story of hardship unlike any I have seen. Aesthetically Williamson does a fantastic job capturing the colors, contrast, and the light on the woman’s face. The stark blue background contrasts the dirt and grim of war. Emotionally I feel a great sense of fear and urgency for the woman, and for myself. This terrifying photograph nearly does, evoke hopelessness in me. The fact that her hand rolled cigarette is half gone and it may be the last one she has makes the photograph feel even more desperate.

Plate 3 | Plate 4

The response I get when I look at Mount. Williamson is different but nonetheless significant. The photographs of Ansel Adams are dramatically emotional. Mount. Williamson, see Plate 4, is one of the best examples of this. I have to leave its description to another exercise spoken of later.
I believe the question of photographs evoking emotional responses has been answered thus far. The above examples are some of the photographs that I find emotionally striking, which is not to say everyone will. So to recap thus far, photographs are linked to the world, visually, physically, and emotionally. Photographs are linked to the person visually, physically and emotionally. Photographs are linked to reality, in some cases this may be referred to as true. All of these things lead back to one inescapable conclusion; they are all inextricably linked to the artist and his world first and foremost.
The artist is the creator. Wherein the artist creates he can also manipulate to a degree defined only by himself. The artist chooses what the viewer sees, thereby censoring the view in some ways. In this way the artist manipulates the scene into what we see. In most landscape photograph we only see a brief amount of information about the landscape. The artist presents us with a small censored window of the landscape. This is how the artist presents us with his reality or truth. Through controlling what we see by framing and other photographic techniques that will be discussed later, the artist shows us a glimpse of reality or truth. It is ironic that a device that only captures a small piece of a landscape can in some cases be such a powerful tool of truth.
The truth of an artist varies from one photograph to another. It is not necessarily the truth of the artist but the truth of the photographic print. John Stuart Mill was once quoted as saying he was not interested in the objective world, but the artist’s reconstruction of it. (Thompson pg.6) This is the artist’s truth, a reconstruction of the scene in a sense. The truth is different from one artist to another. Take any two photographers even if they have a common style, what they produce will be entirely different. Even if you put them in the same place side by side with the same tools, the resulting photographs would be very different.
The truth of the artist does some strange things. I find it fascinating what beings will produce when given complete artistic freedom. I believe that the truth of the artist adds much to the experience of viewing a photograph. Let us say for argument’s sake that I was alongside of Ansel Adams when he made the print of Mount. Williamson. I guarantee that with the naked eye, the landscape did not look like that. So I would at one point have my picture of what I saw on that day in my memory. If after, I then saw Adams print of Mount Williamson, I imagine I would be astonished at the resulting difference. So in a way Adams has altered that truth that I saw with my eyes into his truth, thereby adding something to my truth. Now what happens if I was not there with him on that day to see for myself? I believe one would just see Adams’ truth. This is not to say that this is bad, because it is still possible to get the truth. This would only depend on how skillfully the artist has depicted his or her scene. Knowing for a fact that I was not there when Adams took that photograph, I am still able to get at the truth of the photographs. In a way the artist’s interpretation of the scene adds something to it. The reality or truth of a photograph is something that is not inherently in a photograph. It is up to the artist to seek out and define this truth and thereby adding his own truth to it in the process.
Let us shift gears slightly and give some examples of what has been talked about. In the following discussion I will be using two photographs one of a ‘Photorealistic Reality’ and the other of the ‘Artists Reality.’ I will go through three examples, thus six photographs total, all to answer and demonstrate the points so far. Before I discuss my photographs I will describe the Mount Williamson print by Ansel Adams. The process is simple I will:

A.  Look at the Photorealistic View or ‘Photorealistic Reality’ and,
1. Describe to myself what I see.
2. Describe to myself what this image means to me.
3. Describe the differences between the two.
B. Look at the Photographic Print or ‘Artists Reality’ and
1. Describe to myself what I see.
2. Describe to myself what this image means to me.
3. Describe the differences between the two.
     C. I will discuss differences between ‘Photorealistic Reality’ and ‘Artists Reality’.

What I see in Plate 4 is fairly simple, a mountain range with clouds hanging in the valleys, large boulders littering the landscape from foreground to background, and the light and shadows that are produced by a setting sun. I see sagebrush dotted throughout the landscape in-between boulders. The peaks stretch up toward the sky out of the shadows. There are footprints in the sand. What you don’t see is the cloud cover that is creating the shadows on the ground.
This photograph evokes an emotional response in me. Disregarding the pure aesthetic value of the print, I still am imbued with emotion as I look at the image. To me this print signifies a struggle. This is a struggle between light and dark that could easily slip into the favor of either. This print strikes worry into my soul for fear that the shadow may win. This image is a moment in time, we do not know what came before nor do we know what is going to happen after. If I am correct in assuming that this image is one close to sunset, the shadows will eventually be victorious. Hours later when the sun rises again, the light will be victorious. To me this image signifies the never-ending relationship of light and shadow. The boulders seem to stretch on to the horizon and it only strengthens my impression of their being no end in sight between this relationship of light and shadow. This image genuinely brings an emotional response to the surface in me. I fear that I am getting to subjective and metaphorical in my analysis of the image. Even if we set aside my subjective scribbling about what I think is going on in the photo, it does nevertheless provoke more than one emotional response in me and I think most importantly the emotion of fear. I suggest that with every photograph there may be some different kind of emotional response to it.
Plate 5 was taken a last summer on the rim of beautiful Canyon De Chelley National Monument in Arizona. Standing from the canyon rim you can only see select parts of the canyon. This vista was by far the most open view in the area. The Navajo sandstone contrasts sharply with the blue sky and the white wisps of clouds separated only by a thin line of green foliage. The canyon itself wraps around a stone corner and fades into the distance. The only shadow hides underneath the right side of the canyon. The giant stone obelisk shoots up from the canyon floor and is clearly self-evident. It has long been separated from the rest of the canyon wall, now standing alone, it seems almost as if it does not belong there. At the base of the obelisk, there is sinuous trail that rolls through the canyon, destination unknown. At the canyon base the foliage hangs on to life in the harsh waterless desert environment only getting water through the canyon during the winter months, if at all.

Plate 5 | Plate 6 | Plate 11

The meaning or truth of this photograph is unclear; I find the landscape to be strangely real and unreal at the same time. Real in the sense that Plate 5 is what it is, a photograph from the rim of Canyon De Chelley. Strangely unreal in the sense that the sandstone obelisk should have toppled over centuries ago. There is not much of a difference between what I see of this photograph and what it means to me. I take it for what it is and besides an initial reaction of awe; there is no other response I get from it.
Plate 6 was taken either minutes before or minutes after but the result is radically different. One thing that black and white photographs sometimes do over color is transport you to a time and place rather than just to a place. Plate 11 for example brings you to a time and place rather that just a place. It brings me to the time during the gold rush in California and Nevada. The place is a dust-ridden patch of desert in Nevada only accessible to the brave traveler who can go hour and even sometimes days without seeing a soul. The first thing that I notice about Plate 6 is the sky seems to leap off the page; it is very intense. There is also a great deal of contrast in every part of the print. A harsh line of black foliage that spans the width of the landscape now separates sky from canyon. Instead of wispy clouds, there are harsh contrasts between white cloud and dark sky, its almost as if they are fighting for superiority. Shadows are intensely contrasted by the darks sandstone. The rift between canyon wall and obelisk seems infinite. The obelisk stands alone sharply contrasted against the canyon floor. The thin serpent like trail cuts trough the floor disappearing into the distance. A sense of curiosity arises wondering where exactly the road leads.
The print’s meaning, as a whole, is not that different from what is described above. Basically I think the print’s truth to be the separation of humankind from the earth itself. The sandstone obelisk separated from the rest of the canyon wall represents us, having been separated from the earth. The obelisk stands alone, tall, rugged, and prepared. I believe this to be illustrated not just by the obelisk in the foreground, but also by the print as a whole. The sky is also sharply separated from the ground by that thin line of dark foliage. An emotional response is provoked in me, but I think that could be because I was there and I am indeed linked to this photograph, being the artist. Everything in the print seems to loom or be lurking. Time feels slower when looking at this print, partly because the canyon took thousands of years to slowly form from wind and water erosion. Another part of the print’s truth is that we are being eroded too. The sandstone obelisk of humanity will not stand forever. It, like the real sandstone tower, will eventually crumble away into dust. This provokes a sense of quiet urgency in me. The real test will be if the reader gets an emotional response from the photograph.
There are some obvious differences between Plates 5 and 6, most notably are the reaction one gets from Plate 6. It provokes and emotional response, whereas Plate 5 may provoke a response that is not near the intensity or complexity of Plate 6. Plate 6 also gets at the truth of the artist by way of manipulation. The artist in this case is in full control of what they want the landscape to look like. I remember standing there on the rim of that canyon trying to visualize what the final product would look like. Ansel Adams once said the best photographers are the ones that can fully conceptualize the end product before even the shutter is released. I do not pretend to be at that skill level but there was visualization of an end product or an idea of what I wanted the final print to look like.

Plate 7 | Plate 8

Monument Valley is a stunning place both visually and emotionally. Plates 7 and 8 where taken in summer time from the south rim of the valley. Lets start with Plate 7. Standing there, one is immediately drawn to gigantic boulders that teeter on the valley’s rim. If one looks closely, one can see hundreds of carved names in the boulders. No doubt rich with the names of visitors who felt so inclined to make their visit a permanent addition of the valley.  Looking through them, three stone monuments, as large as six storied buildings rise from the valley floor. How did they get there, one wonders. Years of erosion and wind have no doubt slowly carved them away. When looking closely at the stone monuments one can see infinite patterns; they are almost like weathered stone faces. A tourist road snakes down through the valley off into the distance. A rare rainstorm, has feed the sparse vegetation turning it green. There is no blue sky in this photograph, just the deep shadow of an overcast sky.
To me this photograph is powerful by itself. It has a powerful vista contrasted by smooth sandstone that appears to have been painted with an array of southwest color. It is an accurate representation of this view. What is sometimes difficult when viewing photographs is realizing the scale of the landscape. This photograph does not do the natural drama of the landscape justice. There is so much flat light from the sky being overcast, that the sandstone does not jump out at you as should. This photograph definitely makes me remember being in that place but it does not evoke the strong feeling of awe that I got when I first walked to the edge of the valley.
Plate 8 on the other hand, only taken a few minute before, creates a striking separation between the two photographs. The first thing I notice is the scale of the boulders in the foreground, they take up nearly half the frame. The boulders are textured with lines that separate different layers. Again one can see the presence of the years of graffiti by visitors seamlessly etched in stone. The darks shadows between the boulders give way to the curve of the tourist road that is sharply cut off by the edge of one of the boulders. The framing has cut off some of the sandstone towers creating the illusion that perhaps they stretch panoramically around to the foreground, and that the long years of wind and erosion have slowly cut a gap between them so that now one can see into the distance. The sandstone monument now stands alone at the base of the valley. Deep shadows cut across the valley floor, seemingly blocking the light on the valley floor rather that on the stone monuments of the boulders in the foreground. The sky is deep with the onset of dark clouds. The vegetation dots the valley floor with black spots, no doubt thirsty for what the sky has to offer them. Also, the leftmost stone monument has a small tower on its edge that shoots up toward the sky separated and teetering from the main body of the monument.

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