I try to balance the technical, or the craft, with the concept. I believe that the craft should support the work, not the other way around.
Too many times you see photographs that rely on the process, size, or technical skill of the photographer for their value. That only goes so far. A process photographer is not an artist (necessarily). They are process photographers. Skilled at making large or technically difficult images. That’s all. There’s nothing wrong with that, but a lot of times, viewers conflate size and technical complexity with art.
How do you create art? What is it that makes one photograph art and the other not? These are hefty questions that take a lot of conversation and background to answer. The quick, uncomplicated answer is narrative. What makes anything art is a good story. We, as humans, need to make sense of the world through stories, or life experiences. And if the stories are constructed well, sensible and coherent, they will resonate with us. That, to me, is the quick definition of art. Yes, it should be enigmatic, and interesting. You can leave some things to interpretation, of course. However, the main theme should be easy to understand. Complexity can come later.
Balancing the craft with the concept is difficult. I usually find myself wanting the viewer to travel in time (visually) to the place that I’m telling my story about. Or I want the viewer to feel like they are looking at a memory of something, a forgotten place or time. That’s why I use 19th-century processes. It creates temporal confusion. It engages the viewer and supports my narrative.
Think about how you work. Do you ever consider these ideas? Does it make sense to lean on the narrative rather than the technical? What’s more impactful and meaningful to you? I find myself more interested in why the images were made rather than how they were made. And if the “how” support the “why” it’s can be a powerful piece or body of work!