Recently,
Dan K posed a question on Twitter:
The
question brought various answers and comments, and then this response
from Dan, which set me thinking:
I
know what he was getting at: if the words aren't your own, how can
you be expressing yourself by singing someone else's words? His own
response is arguably more provocative: the question about greatness
seems to be general, rather than specifically about photography, but
then the brevity of the Twitter format may be responsible. Then there
is the assertion itself: that he will never be great, whether it is
in photography, writing, or whatever.
Can
someone express themselves with words or music written by someone
else? I think they certainly can, if they are up to the job. I'd say
the expression is distinct from the act of creating the original text
or score, but there is certainly expression in performing someone
else's work. Think amateur theatre compared with Blanchett, McKellen
or Olivier; the performance is not just presentation, but
interpretation as well. Or in music: it is said that Dylan declared
Hendrix's All along the watchtower
to be the definitive version. And if you have ever seen Sid Vicious
performing My way, you'd have to admit
that it wasn't anyone else's way but Sid's. Some of the words may
have been changed, and may not have been written by Sid, but are we
in any doubt that he was expressing his anarchistic, cynical self,
behind the theatrics? In all of these cases, the base expression will
be that of the writer or composer, but it is necessarily overlaid
with the expression of the artist that performs the work.
How
many great speeches are heard and either admired or loathed for their
content, when they are delivered by someone other than the writer
(I'm talking paid speechwriters, not plagiarists)? And yet the
message is delivered and perceived as the expression of the orator's
own sentiments and emotions—and if the oration is any good, the
message will be seen as being totally owned by them, and doubtless is
in at least some cases ... but with politicians, who can tell?
Maybe
the most genuine expression is in performing someone else's work. It
at once affirms an association with the work and any meaning it may
have, and allows the performer to overlay their own brand on the
material. If the performance stirs something in the listener, then it
is likely that not only is the work of some merit, but the
performance is adding something extra. Cover versions come to mind:
if every cover version sounded exactly like the original, you'd have
to ask “what's the point?”, but if the cover is an individual and
novel performance (as distinct from merely a novelty*), then it must
contain some individual expression on the part of the performer.
*
But even a novelty version (Barron Knights, I'm looking at you) is in
itself an individual expression.
Still,
I grant that your own words, performed by yourself, are nothing if
not expressing yourself.
The
second issue is the question of greatness in one medium if you find
yourself 'naturally' expressing yourself in another. Why should one
preclude the other? However, there is a personal resonance here,
which is probably what prompted me to dwell on this, in the first
place, and to respond in words, in the second. I never used to be
much good with words, be they written or spoken, and still find that
to express myself most effectively, I need to gather my thoughts and
round them up on paper/monitor. I suspect in fact that the
introduction, in 1986, of Yours Truly to Mr Word Processor was a
turning point in my desire to write anything of substance. I did
write a few humorous lines in the early 80s, with a typewriter, but I
was frustrated by the business of having to either get it
substantially right first time—notwithstanding the corrective magic
of the Tippex papers—or rewrite another version. 1st
Word on the Atari ST changed all
that, and I was free to express myself, and it was legible to others
where my handwriting was not. Of course, there was that small matter
of creative merit to get right; 29 years later, I think I might be
getting close.
The
fact that polymaths and multi-talented individuals are something of
note does provide an answer to the question within Dan's thesis, but
it's not necessarily the only one. It is entirely plausible that Dan
may excel in photography or drawing as well as writing (and so, for
that matter, might I), but what governs that outcome? If there is any
spark of talent at all, is it not possible to develop it to a
significant level by study and practice? Maybe the answer lies where
the heart does. For some time, I've had the realisation that although
photography was an early passion—which later became a profession—I
do get particular satisfaction in expressing myself in writing. It is
also a pursuit that can be carried out no matter where I am, whatever
the time of day, whatever the light (as long as there is some), and
without darkroom, chemicals, expensive optics or huge amounts of RAM.
It can also be a several thousand-word technical document or a
six-word story;
each gives satisfaction in the completion.
Dan
went on to say “I just feel if images were my primary medium of
expression I'd be more prolific...” What if you take but one
photograph in your career, or shoot just one film, but the outcome is
the photographic equivalent of To kill a mockingbird? I'd
venture that greatness is not so wedded to quantity as quality.
Still, point taken.
It
is also clear to me that merely reading about photography gives
pleasure beyond simply the acquisition of knowledge. The
vicarious pleasure of photography by proxy? It is similar to looking
at good photography, but not quite the same. Should I be worried? I
should perhaps be more worried by an inkling a couple of years ago:
it occurred to me that I could possibly derive much pleasure in
simply walking around with an empty camera; aiming, composing and
firing the shutter (a proper mechanical shutter, that is, not the
electronic sound file that digital cameras are endowed with), and
enjoying that very process, as well as the thought of the photographs
that I'd 'taken'. There would be a huge benefit: no expense on film
and processing, and no hours afterwards in going through the
negatives and either scanning or printing them and trying to get the
best out of them; naturally, the photographs would all be great. I'd
also have more room on the walls for Steiglitz, Weston, Adams...
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