PHOTOGRAPHY AS INTERPRETATION: MOVING BEYOND THE ILLUSION OF REALITY
Photography is often misunderstood as a medium designed to replicate reality. I hear it often, especially from photographers early on their journey: a desire to stay close to what they perceive as "reality," as if straying too far might diminish the photograph’s integrity. But here's the truth: photography has never been about capturing reality. It’s always been interpretive.
Even in the days of film, photographers made creative decisions to shape how the world appeared through their lens. They chose specific films for their distinctive qualities—Fuji Velvia for vibrant colors, Tri-X for its gritty, high-contrast grain. In the digital era, these choices persist in different forms: white balance, exposure settings, color grading, and countless creative decisions that alter the final image.
WATERDANCE Maui, Hawaii
The Myth of Visual Reality
Our experience of reality isn’t confined to what we see. When you stand on a windswept beach, you don’t just register the visual elements: the stretch of sand, the crashing waves, the golden light of dusk. You feel the cool breeze on your skin, hear the rhythm of the waves, smell the salt in the air. Your reality in that moment is a fusion of senses and emotions. Vision is just a sliver of the pie of that reality.
So when we try to present reality solely through the lens of a camera, we inherently limit the experience. The camera cannot record the breeze, the scent, or the emotional resonance of the moment. But it can evoke them—if we embrace photography as an act of interpretation, not replication.
Photography becomes more compelling when we move beyond the pursuit of reality and embrace our unique perspective. Long exposures, for example, don’t show the scene as the eye perceives it. They reveal the flow of time, the movement of water and clouds, the stillness beneath the surface chaos. This shift from a literal to an interpretive view invites the viewer to feel something, rather than simply recognize what they see.
So the question isn’t, "How accurately can I capture what I saw?" but rather, "How do I feel in this moment as I create the photograph?" If I can connect with my own feelings while making the image, there's a higher likelihood that those emotions will come through—and ultimately resonate with others. What was it about the scene that stirred something in you? Was it the solitude? The power? The fleeting beauty of light? Let that guide your creative choices.
In the end, photography is a form of communication. It’s not about showing others what the eye saw in an instant but about conveying what the heart felt in the moment. This is where photography transcends the surface and becomes art—when it expresses something deeply personal that resonates universally.
Reality is the raw material; interpretation is the art. And when you embrace your role as an interpreter rather than a documentarian, your images will begin to connect more deeply, evoke more strongly, and express more authentically.
What do you want your photographs to say? And who do you want to hear them?
That’s where your journey begins.