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Why I stopped going to camera clubs.I once belonged to two local camera clubs -- one sponsored by my then-employer and the other was my home-city's club. I stopped going to the latter strictly for artistic reasons. I stopped going to the former for both pragmatic and artistic reasons. The pragmatic reasons were two. First, it was a long drive to the meeting place. Second, I realized that I was spending more time on the club as an organization than I was on my own work. I had been both program director and president and was their representative to the Northwest Council of Camera Clubs. That’s always the danger of being in a volunteer organization; which someone (I wish I could remember whom) defined as “a few people working feverishly and the remainder idle to a degree I would have doubted achievable by a live human.” Actually, that definition was intended to describe a university art department but I think it applies equally well to camera clubs, churches, etc. The artistic reasons are more complex. First is that there is, or at least was, no mechanism in either club’s activities to encourage or support development of a body of work – as opposed to bringing in a couple of prints for judging in the monthly competition. Second is the judging itself. The format of the judging legislates against prints that require careful examination – that don’t have a lot of ‘impact.' Now I yield to nobody in my admiration for a print that reaches from across the room and grabs you by the collar. But I also enjoy (and happen to make) prints that require you to look at them for a while – or, worse yet in the terms of club judging, require you to see them in context; either of other prints in a body of work or in relation to caption or accompanying text. I believe that there are only three questions in judging any piece of art (or music or literature): “What was the artist attempting to do?”, “How well did the artist succeed?” and the zinger “Was is worth doing?” The short form is “Does it work?” However, this approach assumes that the artist did pretty much exactly what he or she intended. Club judging is hampered because the agenda isn’t clear – is the intent of judging to evaluate the piece as-is or to give the artist suggestions on making it better? If the former, then discussion of positive/negative space, leading lines, crash points, etc. adds nothing. If the latter, then the judge needs to know the skill level of the artist. Suggestions for improvement are a different matter for a beginner who badly needs technical advice than for someone who purposely ignores the “rules” to make a statement. And, of course, the judges don’t know because the work is anonymous. While I’m bashing the club judging, much of the club judging is, frankly, pretty hateful to those not working in a sharp focus, dc to daylight genre. In this club I saw a pretty compelling piece combining written text with the photograph dismissed as obviously derivative; “What hath Duane Michels wrought?”. In the same print night there was a very nice landscape of rocks and rushing water and nobody dismissed it as derivative; “What hath Ansel Adams wrought?” My own infrared photograph of a single figure walking by the massive pillars of the Seattle coliseum (before it was the Key arena) was dismissed as a “smeared up mess”. By the way, I later sold that print for a (for me) handsome price. Just for fun, the following month I brought a print for the monthly judging that I had made specifically for that purpose; a pleasant scene well-printed – sharp from foreground to horizon, good tonal range, well framed by overhanging branches, fine grain. It did well in the competition. Only problem is that I have absolutely no interest in doing that kind of work. I like that kind of work. I have both an Ansel Adams poster and a Paul Caponigro poster hung among the art in my home. But it isn’t my bag and I kind of need a measure of acceptance for the kind of work I do want to do in the folks with which I associate. So the short answer is that I quit going to camera clubs because doing so was not helping my development as an artist. I am a member of a loose organization called Group f/5.6, www.groupf56.com. Our primary goal is to spur each other on to keep the work moving. We don’t have dues or competitions. Our skill levels range from modest to phenomenal. I regard myself as somewhere in between. Our members work is color and black and white, landscape, still life, portraits, street photography, hand coloring, alternative processes, one member does exclusively macro-underwater. We have a ruthlessly enforced rule against discussing equipment until after our regular meeting is over. We have an unwritten rule against trashing work because you don’t like it. So what do I suggest for those who belong to camera clubs? Well, obviously if your club as-is fills your needs both for comradeship and support to your photography – nothing. However, think about it; how much work do you see in your monthly club competition that is other than what you are used to seeing? Look around you. Where are the young photographers? Now, I have nothing against geezerhood – I am more than slightly geezerish myself. But I also like to see the work of young artists whose approach is not burdened with a lot of history. There is some pretty exciting work out there. If you aren’t comfortable with your club as-is, then work broadening your horizons and push the club to broaden its horizons. Go to shows. I doubt seriously that you will like everything you see. I sure don’t but it gives me a lot to think about while waiting for film to develop. Over the years I have, sometimes grudgingly, come to appreciate work that completely escaped me at first. Look at lots of books. Your public library probably has a big collection of photography books. When I go to the library I always grab one book that looks good to me and one that I haven’t a clue about. Finally, insist that the judges in your monthly competition use more than one yardstick. Does it make sense to judge all images based on excellent tonal range, sharp focus, broad depth of field, and so on? Is fine grain always better except, of course, when you are using the grain as an artistic device? The usual answer to these questions is “yes” that the ideal photograph obeys these dicta in addition to having visual interest and that difficulty of execution doesn’t count. Who says? One of my all-time favorite Willy Ronis photographs is of two girls in the sidewalk café. It isn’t quite sharp. It is grainy. It is more than a bit flat – obviously strained out of a negative that caused various curses in French that are still hovering over Paris. Yet, judged on its own terms it is one of the greatest street photographs ever made! I come back to it again and again. The presence, the sheer joy of being alive that it conveys transcends any technical defects – if they are defects. Would it be a “better” photograph if it were technically perfect? Beats me, that’s another question that occupies my mind while waiting for film to develop. Neither do I think it is a bad move for judges to ask the photographer what was intended if they don’t see the point of a print. That violates the anonymity of the usual system. Who cares? One club I visited had an interesting judging procedure. Each of the three judges wrote their scores on a card and showed them simultaneously. If there was more than a 3 point (out of 10) difference then they had to discuss it right then and there and the audience (and photographer) was welcome to participate. This led to a lengthy competition but it was very stimulating. It is a good thing to get people to be part of your program night whose work is very different from the club’s norm. Get people like me. Get a plastic camera photographer. Get the photography teacher from the local high school to bring some students and their work. Some of the student work I’ve seen would blow your socks off. Or you can drop out.
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