Dear photographer,
Those who’ve come before me would probably refer to you as a fauxtographer. But I strongly believe that even after 15 years of running this online magazine, it is my job to not continue the generational trauma of previous photographers before me. This letter is to you — yes, you. You, who said that cameras like the Fujifilm GFX 100RF are useless and wasteful of your money. With it finally in my hands, I swear to you, very few cameras have inspired me to want to get out there and shoot like this. I haven’t felt joy like this about a camera since the last Leica M I held. And I haven’t felt joy like this about a Fujifilm camera since the X Pro 3 was launched. I hope that the firmware updates don’t let me down the way the X Pro 3 did. But this letter isn’t about me.
It’s about you.
You, in my eyes and my experience, are not a Photographer yet — you are simply just a photographer. Did you notice how I used a capitalization on the “P” to emphasize my respect towards the name of the Photographer?
I recently became part of a tea club that brings me immense joy, and I’ve been meditating on the idea of tea trees. Did you know, photographer, that what happens to the top of the tree also happens to the bottom? As the tree gets taller, the roots go deeper and access very old, mineral-rich soil that brings out a completely different and more mineral-infused taste. If one side of the tree gets pruned, the roots take a similar path in the tree’s growth.
To that end, a tree’s upper leaves only reach as far as its roots do. And in conclusion: a tree only grows as high as its roots and the soil allow it to go deeply.
I like to think that we, as Photographers, are trees. We are trees that got deep into our growth but also dove deeper into our roots. That’s far different from a fundamentalist mentality of working to please an algorithmic social media cycle to create content — not Photographs. It is fundamentalist because one forgets why they got into it to start with and instead doubles down on an effort while forgetting their roots.
A Photographer, however, never forgets their roots. Take it from the man who’s been in charge of interviews and editing the interviews of Photographers for 15 years. We’ve only now taken a break from the art world because of the insanely self-centered actions of a group of people.
My dear photographer, Photographs are not content. They’re Photographs. They’re meant to be respected as such.
Here is an idea that probably won’t make it into the content algorithms because it’s not promoting capitalist ideals: take a single lens and a single camera, and shoot every single day with it while working to intentionally make better Photographs. The idea of a creative vision through a single lens in the way that you see it will help you develop a much more keen eye and will do more than that.
Sam Altman, the head of OpenAI, uses a pen and paper for all of his ideas. Let that sink in — the head of one of the best AI companies in the world still uses a pen and paper. He simplifies it. So why not simplify your Photography? Why do you need a billion lenses when you have only been creating to please an algorithm that doesn’t appreciate or ruminate over your work? You’re treated like a post in a feed meant for a double tap or emojis — the audience can’t even give you the decency of written words.
Yes, a single camera gave me these thoughts. You don’t need a million lenses yet. When you are deeper in touch with the soil that you’ve rooted into, we can talk about a million lenses. But in the meantime, stick to one thing and embrace the idea of slow producitivity.
My dear photographer, one day you will be a Photographer if you just ensure that your roots are as rich as the leaves you are sprouting.
