When I made the transition from amateur to pro photographer
I had to re-learn my approach to the medium. The old way of seeing, based on
the notion that the picture stood isolated as a personal statement, had to give
way to developing the instinct to see photographs as the commercial world saw
them. In short, I had to lay aside any pretensions to arty-ness and become a
low level illustrator. Or, to put it even shorter still, I had to become a
commercial whore. I did, after all, have to pay the rent, and couldn’t shake
the habit of eating something every day. And let’s face it, driving around the
country taking nice pictures of nice places was better than sitting in a stuffy
office concerning myself with the question of whether some plumber’s financial
returns looked credible or not. And does it really matter anyway?
Nevertheless, just occasionally I would see some combination
of colours or forms or textures which encouraged the old habit of taking pictures
for myself and not the paymasters (notwithstanding my blessings on them for
giving me commissions and buying the rights to use my pictures – seriously.)
And so occasionally I would take a different kind of picture. They made no
pretence to being art, but they had maybe a little more about them than you
would normally find in a travel guide.
The four below are examples of this missing link, and they
did appear in the International Photography Yearbooks for 1990 and 1991 so
somebody must have thought them unsuitable for chocolate boxes.
This one was never offered to the Photography Yearbook, but
I like it anyway.
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