2 responses to “PODCAST: A Photographic Life, Episode 366: ‘Cartier-Bresson Words, One Lens Creativity and Photo Book Titles’”

1. 

   Peter Cannon

   May 20, 2025 at 4:04 am

   There’s a lot in this episode to ponder. I appreciate your comments on HCB and agree that I prefer those interviews or lectures that probe the artist’s creative space as opposed to those fanboy (or fangirl) pieces that talk about gear or the artist’s “greatest hits.”

   As a photographer, I would like to suggest the line “Fiddle when I can/Work when I should” from John Denver’s “Thank God I’m a Country Boy” as something to explore.

   I admit that I do not identify with much of what’s in the song. I do admire the sheer joyfulness of the piece. It comes at you, wave after wave. For me, as an amateur photographer, the above line from this song reminds me how I feel about the craft. It brings me joy, and I would do it all the time if I didn’t have to earn a living doing something else.

   I don’t believe that all photographers should aspire to be professional photographers. I also don’t believe that the quality of one’s work depends on whether they are a professional or an enthusiast.

   The song is about a family of fiddlers-darn good ones-that fiddle for the love and joy of making music. They never made money from fiddling because that was never the point.

   For me, and for many, that’s the same feeling I get when I am out taking photographs (and not landscapes with my bag full of lenses). It’s a process – the research, the equipment, capturing the image, processing, printing, and exhibiting- that brings me happiness. Isn’t this also a legitimate pursuit, or does it have to be tied to some capitalist pursuit to be recognized as art?

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2. 

   Rob Campbell

   May 16, 2025 at 6:25 pm

   HC-B.

   Well, I think the paucity of worthwhile material is no accident. As you point out, the man was somewhat reluctant to bare his soul and it appears that he did his best to create an aura of mystery about himself. It’s my suspicion that he knew only too well that an excessive familiarity breeds boredom, if not outright contempt.

   At the bottom of it all, Magnum was and remains a business, and its prime objective, as such, is to turn a buck or two more than it spends. What, at the time, had it to offer that the competition did not? I guess that in real terms, not a lot, so the trick had to be to create illusions. This, in my memory, at least through H-CB, it sure managed to do. That stuff about holding contact sheets upside down, for instance: come on, I have had to produce zillions of them during my career, and especially from 135 film it was difficult enough seeing and reading the image if only because of the grain of the SWG paper itself. Not every darkroom owned an 8 x 10 Durst! As for discovering or checking design and “geometry” that way, it’s great drama to feed camera clubs. You get – or should get – framing right in camera.

   The decisive moment is a bit of a con too: if his trigger finger was held until he saw decisive moments, how come he had to use contact sheet; were they all perfect shots in each sequence, did his sheets hold thirty-six keepers? Methinks they held the same truth as anyone else’s: the visual proof of the progression of working the scene, working it until something good was nailed.

   This may come over as unkind; nope, I think him a great photographer, but I do not feel that appreciation that I hold is dependent on hype. I can understand why he abandoned photography and returned to the pencil and the brush. I came into photography via that route, and if I had been good enough, capable of making it as an artist, I wonder whether my parallel love for photography would have been the eventual road to which I opted to dedicate my life. The great problem with photography is that in the end, success or otherwise depends on nothing more than opinion, and those crucial opinions are not always well informed ones. Of course, much the same is true with art. Accountancy suddenly sounds less depressing a career path than I thought when I was in my teens.

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