It’s how you say it. We all know that. And isn’t the same true with pictures? It’s not what you show. It’s how you show it. The goal isn’t to dazzle people with the technique. That’s just showing off. The goal is use the technique to peel off the layers of distraction and reveal exactly what you see. What you feel. The goal is to clarify. But weddings are tricky stuff. If you start your life out as a photojournalist, you focus on the story. As a street photographer, context. As a portrait photographer, expression and body language. These become your tools. They let you speak, so you really learn how to use them.
Weddings, on the other hand, are just plain bad training. They are everything, which means they’re also nothing. It’s hard to focus and refine. They tend to pull you in ten different directions. They are deceptively difficult and surprisingly misleading. They require lightning fast reflexes in high stress situations with little time for thought or planning. They are unpredictable, and your reputation is on the line every moment of the day. It’s no surprise that there is so much repetition and such a distinct arsenal of tricks. The job nearly demands it.
When you look at the work of the greats, you just get it. Whether it’s Frank, Shore, Davidson, or Weston. You might not love it. It might not be your inspiration. But you understand what the images say. One of my favorite videos is Magnum photographer Bruce Gilden working on the street. Is there any question that his pictures feel exactly like him? He isn’t just finding shots. Watch how he creates them:
The problem with weddings is that they are so pregnant with meaning. You shoot a normal person walking out a door or on a street, and it’s pointless. You shoot someone in that white wedding dress walking out a door, and it becomes a moment of storied anticipation. Even a simple smile on a bride is easy fodder for symbolism. It becomes about love and the future. A smile on anyone else? That’s just someone who’s happy. Have you ever shot a bride wearing a normal dress? It changes the feel, doesn’t it? If you haven’t, trust me, it does. It’s uncanny. But taking a free ride on all that meaning sends out exactly the wrong message. Photographers start to think anytime anyone puts on some make-up, it’s noteworthy. That whenever someone walks anywhere, looks anywhere, does this, or does that, that it means a whole lot more than it really does. After all, it worked when the subject was a bride, right? Pretty soon, pictures become all about what people do, and not how they do it.
And what is the how? It’s the story. You see someone standing, and that means very little. You see how they stand – maybe straight and stern, or relaxed with a bend in the knee, and you start to imagine that person’s world. The how is the part of the picture that clarifies what’s interesting about the what. It’s not the action. It’s the way the action is done.
The truth is it’s never really about the actions. The great shots are about implication. It’s the thing that makes you go “Hmmmmm…” It’s context or body language, a feel or an idea. It might be the framing, it might be the light. Implication can be anything. It’s our nature to read into things. And that’s just the point. There are so many pictures to take that go past people just doing stuff. Good pictures are sexy. They’re suggestive. They flirt with you. They tell you just enough to let you know what they’re about, and they let your imagination do the rest. When you show the how instead of the what, you go beyond the literal. You fill your pictures with what only you can see. That’s when photography becomes art. Otherwise, it’s really just about a white dress.
Bravo. That last paragraph hit me like a ton of bricks. I get so caught up in the safe shots that I forget to venture out and capture the edges of the action. Thank you for reminding me to color outside of the lines. Well said.
Thanks! I do the same. I know how it goes – I’ve decided to give myself permission to be as unsafe as I like this year.