...One of my favourite Swedish photographers is a sort of quieter, small-town Freidlander. I'm delighted that he is around to document the world I live in with that sort of take: Friedlander isn't going to pop over and do the job any time soon....
Might that be Lars Tunbjörk? I really like his work.
It's a good idea to keep in mind that artists of the pre-romantic era focused on rendering their subjects with skill and taste that conformed to the common practice of the era, and not on a self-conscious concern with their own unique style. Vermeer was so much a member of the guild he belonged to in terms of style that it's apparently very hard for scholars to always be certain exactly which pieces are actually painted by him. Prominent artists had stables of assistants who managed the drudge work of art that the master chose not concern himself with, and the final arbiter of the quality and value of their art was the opinion of the client. Sometimes, in fact, music of the 18th century is even characterized as belonging to the "period of common practice" where national styles were what people discussed, not personal ones.
So angst about one's place in, ahead of, or behind the zeitgeist is unfortunate. It is totally normal to absorb the influences of the photographers who inspire you, and totally within the practice of artists since Lascaux to make art that reflects those influences. Over time, the greatest practitioners change direction and many follow in their own way, still making enormously worthy art. It's perhaps the intimation of one's not being one of the very, very few who move and shake that is the hardest pill to swallow. It's one of those times that it makes sense to 'get over yourself'.
I tried to read this whole thread, but I'm out of my ADD drugs. So, I'm going to ramble my way through my thoughts, and tomorrow I'll come back medicated to see how I did.
I was three years old when I started playing the piano. I wasn't taking lessons; my five-year-old sister was, and I was very good at mimicking what she played. At four years old, my parents decided I should have lessons, too, but I was seven years old before they realized I couldn't read music. My piano teacher would play each new piece for me when he assigned it, and I would play it back note for note. I didn't start learning properly until he stopped playing new pieces for me.
When I studied foreign languages in school, that skill was enormously useful. But it was NOT useful when I started exploring photography.
I knew right from the start of my photography obsession that if I looked too much or too long at other photographers' work, I would copy it, whether I did so consciously or not. So, I isolated myself, as completely as I could. No photography books, no looking through photographers' websites, no photography magazines, nothing. (OK, almost nothing.) I didn't want to do what someone else was already doing.
When I finally found my own way of working and my photographic voice, I landed a show in a Denver gallery. During the opening reception, I can't tell you how many people I heard say, "She's obviously quite influenced by Sally Mann." I had no idea who Sally Mann was.
During my first real portfolio critique, I was told that several of my images were "more Rodney Smith than Rodney Smith." Had to go home and google him.
I was a little frustrated by those experiences. Here I'd gone to all the trouble not to mimic others, and all I was hearing was how much like so-and-so my work looked. It made me realize, though, that just because someone's work looks similar to someone else's, it doesn't necessarily mean there was any direct influence. They may have gotten to similar places via very different paths. And, as has already been mentioned several times in this thread, we are all unconsciously influenced by what we see and hear everyday. Similarities will happen.
I don't think it's right or wrong to imitate others work, whether it's music, photography, whatever. I do think that different approaches are right for different people. I wouldn't enjoy photography if I was consciously imitating someone else. Others may be happiest using someone else's work as a jumping-off point. In the end, we'll all work the way we like to work, and "shoulds" and "shouldn'ts" are irrelevant.
I don't think it is a matter of imitation as limitation; we all have to do it at some point in order to learn. Your examples of learning languages and music that way are prime examples. It is how we all learn to speak our native language, and to a great extent, any other language we speak as well. When we depart from imitation and move on to originality is when poetry occurs. The same is true for any form of expression. Where imitation degrades to mimicry happens when someone has no personal vision or refuses to express it. When that happens is hard to say, as in your example of people feeling you were like Sally Mann or Rodney Smith. But, I'm sure that your work has diverged from their examples since then, and not just out of a desire to distinguish yourself from them, but out of the genuine impulse to explore and stretch your own boundaries, and to express ideas that neither one of them have had. Stagnation as an artist is perhaps the worst artistic sin possible. Then you're no longer an artist, you're a poster factory.
When that happens is hard to say, as in your example of people feeling you were like Sally Mann or Rodney Smith. But, I'm sure that your work has diverged from their examples since then, and not just out of a desire to distinguish yourself from them, but out of the genuine impulse to explore and stretch your own boundaries, and to express ideas that neither one of them have had.
Scott, that misses the point. The point I was making was that I had never seen Sally Mann's or Rodney Smith's work, so I could not possibly have imitated in any way, therefore there was/is no need to distinguish myself from them. I did discover bits of similarity between my work and Mann's/Smith's after the fact, but my work was my own. Their work was not a starting point for me.
I am not an artist nor will I ever claim to be, but I have been following this and the other thread (what a train wreck that one turned out to be)with a lot of interest. All this talk about style here, and once you weed through the BS in the other, all seem to be saying the same thing. Go shoot what you want and don't worry about it. Our style revolves around what we like to take pictures of and what the final image should look like.
I am not a big Kenna fan but I really like Bill's images. For me there is a serious difference. Maybe it is the jaundiced feeling of Kenna's, I don't know, but I see two different styles within the same camp. Another in this camp would be Fokos. There is no comparison outside of the general aesthetic camp.
If you are shooting, writing, painting, etc...and you are happy with what you do who the hell cares who you are compared too. Those who scream "I am an Artist and you are not" are going to be everywhere. Hell I spent 5 years with them in writing school. The only difference between them and those of us who did not scream this was they tended to be more full of shit. SOme people imagine they have found a way to set themselves a part and be MORE of an artist than others, never quite realizing that many many have done the same thing in the past. Often times these people were ardent supporters of what they scream so loud against. They also tend to change their minds a lot.
Do what you like, the way you like and like what you end up with.
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Technological society has succeeded in multiplying the opportunities for pleasure, but it has great difficulty in generating joy. Pope Paul VI
So, I think the "greats" were true to their visions, once their visions no longer sucked. Ralph Barker 12/2004
Scott, that misses the point. The point I was making was that I had never seen Sally Mann's or Rodney Smith's work, so I could not possibly have imitated in any way, therefore there was/is no need to distinguish myself from them. I did discover bits of similarity between my work and Mann's/Smith's after the fact, but my work was my own. Their work was not a starting point for me.
I was speaking in a more general sense. I did not mean that you consciously imitated them. I think that goes back to something (I think it was John Voss, or else Suzanne Revy) said about how people working in isolation can still end up being similar to other people they have not been exposed to who are working at the same time. My point was more that having seen the similarity, you did not rush out to break away from it, nor did you slavishly preserve that similarity.
There's always someone who will make a reference to somebody else's work in looking at yours, because they are more known to that individual. What pisses me off is the sometimes assumption that you are copying or emulating if that similarity exists. As CJ said about hers, she had no idea what Mann and Smith's work was about.
In any event, how could any of us not be influenced by what precedes us? What's important I feel is how we allow that influence to interject itself in our own work, whatever medium.
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