The Wisdom of the Photographic Crowd - Part I

Please find below the first instalment of a two-part piece which was inspired after receiving some jaw-dropping photographic books this Xmas….

I am looking through the photographic books which I received over the festive period and am having mixed feelings because whilst they are all undeniably stunning, they may also be heralding the end of the ‘one-author-one-book’ tradition.

You see, the books in question are all ‘compilation works’ (i.e. assembled from pictures submitted by various photographers and/or contest entrants) and the images themselves are stunning. They have truly captured Mother Nature at her finest, in every location, in every season and in every light imaginable.


  
I believe that the cornerstone of this photographic renaissance is the digital camera – a tool which has liberated us from the shackles of the darkroom. (Whilst this may seem a slightly contrarian things for a commercial photographer to say, I love landscapes more than I do photography and the thought that someone is around to record and share Nature’s incredibly fleeting moments more than outweighs the envy of not capturing something myself.)

In many ways, it reminds me of James Surowiecki’s The Wisdom of the Crowds, only in this medium the ‘wisdom’ is not information or knowledge, but the 24/7 omnipresence of the masses. With camera and Flickr in hand, we can all now contribute to the real-time documentary of Nature simultaneously around the world.

However, I am increasingly feeling that the downside of this photographic democratisation is the complete lack of visual narrative.

To demonstrate this point, I just conducted a rather unscientific experiment of my most favoured photographic books in the library. Top of the Pops were works from Joe Cornish, Peter Dombrovskis and Zhang Liping (amongst others). Books from such ‘storytellers’ lead us through a world - be it Scotland, Tasmania or Guilin respectively - with a consistent artistic eye and a clear visual narrative. I particularly enjoy looking out for deft visual touches (for example, charting not only the development of the landscape during the course of a book but also of the photographer) and I don’t feel I receive the same level of enjoyment from compilation works.

What does this mean for us photographers still plodding away by ourselves?? Well, you can read about that and thoughts on my next journey in part two of this article which I shall post shortly after further reflection…