Scanning from old slides. Feeling the photo universe grapple with oncoming entropy.

 

I've finally hit the point where I am mostly bored with photography. Mostly bored with other people's photography. I sat and listened to VII photographer, Ed Kashi, speak at the Briscoe Center at UT yesterday evening. His work was technically good and he has spent the last 40 years traveling around the world making photographs of war zones and cultural upheavals. The reason for his presentation? The Briscoe Center (Adjacent to the LBJ Library) will be the recipient of Kashi's archive. Couched as a donation. 

But as I sat in the dark for the presentation I realized that while the images were connected with major world events they had nothing to them that made them specific to Kashi. Nor did any of the images have the power to make change in the world, no matter how hard current photojournalists try to make the case that their work can be a powerful motivator of public opinion. In the moment? Perhaps. In the long run? Not likely. 

Kashi was a good speaker and did a good job showing what he's spent the last few decades working on. But we no longer live in a culture or time in which even the most riveting images have the power that work done in the print era of the 20th century did. All the first world cultures have become too granulated, and too silo'd with micro-targets, for images to have the reach they once did when they didn't have to compete with endless video documentation, and news coverage, endless access to zillions of similar images from every corner of the internet. All arriving continuously.

They can't compete with the singular and huge markets of the 1950s and 1960s when photographic news and event coverage was presented exclusively by a very small handful of magazines that hit every market in the country, from coast to coast. Remember, back during most of the 20th century there were also ONLY three TV networks that broadcast nationally. Seven or eight nationally distributed weekly news magazines and only a handful of national newspapers. We, the people, were a much more homogenous market when it came to our news sources. And the media was much, much more consolidated.  It's a luxury no working photographer has today. And Kashi said as much during his presentation. 

I left the presentation happy that Kashi survived his long career with his marriage and family still lovingly intact. I'm happy the Briscoe Center moved to collect his work. But I am in no way convinced that, outside of academic circles, that kind of photographic work still has the power to move people; to sway opinions, to make change. It's now falling into rote documentation. Much to the chagrin of the "old guard" of photojournalism. (And, incidentally, the vast majority of the audience present for last night's event were well into their medicare years....even though the event was held on the border of a major university, and the program was not only free but also offered free catering and an open bar for any who would like to attend. Times have changed from my student days when an event like this would have been packed for no other reason than free wine and beer!). 

But this whole episode drove home to me, finally, the futility I have been feeling in my own approaches to photography. The same-ness of everyones' images. The failed idea that somehow, when surrounded and endlessly influenced, minute by minute, by a universal and powerful feedback loop, that any work created recently is "special" "different" or the work of masters. 

I pulled a camera out today and put it in the car with me when I went about my day. Nothing I saw seemed worth shooting. Nothing seemed in need of additional revelation or spotlighting. 

Then I had lunch with a fellow photographer from my own demographic. He was at the show as well last night. His take was that while the work was competent it was in a uniform style, a photojournalism template, a kind of work that was informational but not personalized in any meaningful way. I suggested that the historic role of a photojournalist was straight documentation, not interpretation but he was having none of my argument and insisted that the work should have some sort of twist or style to it to make it stand out. To make it accessible by photo elitists. To make it "important." 

I realized at that point that arguing was useless and the reality is that photography, while still fun to do, has lost its world stage status and importance. It just doesn't make sense any more as a vocation that's supposed to have some sort of power to effect societal change. And its power is further diminished daily by the remarkable ease with which reality and photographs can be constructed entirely in A.I. programs. No human need to click a shutter, dodge a bullet or catch the decisive moment. Media, non-journalists, and bad actors can construct their own interpretations of reality as they see fit with a mouse, a keyboard and a bit of time. Which means that all the photos we're endless sharing become more or less meaningless. Even suspect.

At some point perhaps a despotic leader will realize the power of completely homogenous media to sway his subjects and perhaps will resurrect a single government sponsored TV network,  universal news website or online newspaper that will be the only place to get news and to see images as they are related to "news". A thought monopoly controlled and enforced by the government. At that point we will have descended into hell and images will have lost the last bit of their power. 

So, tomorrow I guess I'll start boxing up extra cameras and lenses and sending them off to vendors who will buy them for sixty cents on the dollar and sell them to someone more motivated and optimistic. 

Me? I'll just keep photographing for myself.