Inside Culture

There are different kinds of art. You knew that but I’m going to explore an art contrast you may not have considered. If you are reading this you know of one kind of art, the kind in museums and galleries. The word “art “ is in use constantly in newspaper newsrooms. It means photographs, as in, “I need some art for page six.” (This editor is taking the high road or the low road of photojournalism.)

The high road is. Photographs can say some things better than words. For example, the news story may say “7,000 starving children.” A photo of one child has more impact. The low road is, “I need some art to break up all the type on the page.” Newspaper photographers compete with words, as a painter may compete with the DJ at an exhibit opening. There’s enough abuse to go around. Let’s look at the strengths of each, by eavesdropping on an artist/photojournalist discussion.

Photojournalist:   I’m showing the public major events of the day.

Artist:  You are showing the public the major tragedies of the day , the failures of the day, wars, accidents, murders, fires.

Photojournalist:  I also show daily life, kids in the park, people struggling with the rain, even people coping, successfully and dot successfully.

Artist:  Your emphasis is on the day. Things happen on the day for sure. But important things happen over a period of time.  With my art I try to speak to contemporary culture. This is a longer view.
Photojournalist:   You may be talking but who’s listening? There are a few in galleries but half a million people read my paper.
Artist:  That’s pre-industrial revolution thinking. Notice you said,  “read my paper,” not, “ view my pictures,” so get off your high horse. Both of our works are available to audiences around the world on the Internet. Availability of our work is a draw.

Photojournalist:   Speaking of high horses, have you read your artist statement?

Artist:  OK, let’s talk nice. Yeah, artists’ statements can be a little much, but I’m trying to explain something deep in my psyche, way beyond words. Yep, some times, I think my artist statement is more abstract than my art.

Photojournalist:   I do have two advantages. Those word people I compete with do supply context to my work. Second, the environment and the the culture, supply context to my work.  The viewer knows something about my picture before they see it.

Artist:   You do have an advantage, but I have an advantage (if I’m lucky) of an exhibition. People are predisposed to view my art.  They may chat it up among themselves, exchange opinions.
Photojournalist:    That’s an advantage. Half a million may see my work, but I get little feedback. I get about three emails a year commenting on my work. The count goes up if I make a mistake, or do something that challenges the public’s taste.

Artist:  I can have the wonderful experience of someone giving me money to take home my art.  It’s a one-on-one experience.

Photojournalist:   I wish. Mine’s delivered to those homes, but I seldom have a one-on-one experience. So, exactly what are they getting when they take your art home?

Artist:  They are getting a piece of my soul, an unspeakable part of me. “Unspeakable” is hard to describe. The art world has been expanding inclusion in recent years.  Some day, art may challenge sports for audience.

Photojournalist:   Wow! That’s great. My world is contracting. Newspapers are dying, photography departments are downsizing.  I’m being challenged by Instagram. Everybody has a camera and they are invited to send their photos to the media, replacing a need for me. My world used to be a secret world of F/stops and flash calculations. You had to calculate flash based on the distance of the subject and the amount of existing light. Now, the hundred-dollar camera can do all that for any amateur.  Your world is expanding. Mine’s contracting. Maybe some day, your art will eclipse mine.

Artist:  Wow back to you! I’m not very good at chronicling today.  My challenge is to chronicle the era, leading someone to understand his/her relationship with the culture.

Photojournalist:   I think you just reduced your artist statement to one sentence. I think, “chronicle the era,” leading someone to understand his/her relationship with the culture” covers it.

Artist:  Aren’t we a pair! You inform the citizenry of the day’s happenings. I’m chronicling the era. We can’t hoist a “Mission Accomplished” banner yet. There’s lots more to do.

Photojournalist:   We both have to explain our efforts. Journalism does a better job of explaining the world than it does in explaining itself.

Artist:  Artists deal in the polite world of conversation. I could easily explain my art with this interrogation. “What do you see? What do you really see? What do you question but are too polite to say? Most important, what do you not see?”  An art viewer would escape to the bar next door rather than continue this interrogation.  We have to find a more subtle way to instigate this process.
Photojournalist:    Isn’t the job of the art critic?

Artist:  It is, but they can’t explain each piece in the market. Also, critics explain successful Artist:  They don’t discover artists.

Artist:  The undiscovered artist has few professional allies. They enter the art world fringes. It may be a coffee shop display, or rent a hundred dollar tent at a neighborhood art show. The entry route is not a super highway. It’s more like a coon path through the woods.  It takes perception, perseverance and luck. Maybe I’ll make some T-shirts with PPL, to sell as a reminder.

Photojournalist:   We Photojournalist: s used to make a print and “sell” it to the newsroom. Today, the newsroom sees our transmitted images before we return to the newsroom. It works, but it’s not as intimate as selecting the right negative in the darkroom.

Artist:  Oh, our work is intimate as we make it. ‘We need to do a better job of “selling” to our first overture to a gallery, somehow “sell” the product of our psyche.

Photojournalist:   Our work is presold to the newsroom. If the demonstration gets ugly, the newsroom is waiting for art. It seems both of us have problems in introducing new topics to the public. The newsroom wants that demonstration photo. It’s not interested in my psyche.

Artist:  I have trouble selling my psyche to an audience too. Sometimes, I think the art audience just wants to match their sofa with a landscape. A good artist can put interpretation in a landscape, but there is the element of copy work.
Photojournalist:   I deal with copywork too. There’s the routine demonstration, the crime scene and the politician trying to portray the most presentable persona. My joy is capturing the telling instant when the truth emerges.
Artist:  You’re looking for truth? What about the facts?
Photojournalist:   Don’t tell the newsroom. They think journalism is objective. The truth is (fact is,) any human report originates with an individual effort. Your world accepts this. It makes my world nervous.
Artist:  Not so fast. My world is slow to accept a unique individual effort. It’s comfortable with the familiar. A deep, insightful effort encounters difficulty finding acceptance. I have a cynical mantra. “The new is the enemy of success.”
Photojournalist:   Yep, the emphasis is on doing more of what you did yesterday. Let’s try to capture successes of our worlds and try to apply it to the other world.  What can the Photojournalist:  do for an artist and vice versa?
Artist: Lets make it the individual, how I deal with it in my garret ;-) and you at a news scene.
Photojournalist:   Let’s consider what we can do, individually and collectively in our worlds. Aside from our problems, how can we contribute to the culture?
Artist:  That’s big. Let’s think about it and get back together in a few days to compare notes.
Tom Hubbard was a photojournalist for 18 years in Atlanta and Cincinnati. He then taught photojournalism at Ohio State for 16 years and has been creating digital art since 2000. He may be talking to himself here.