The challenge of originality

a quick comment before I get to the heart of my blog today... I will generally be updating this blog two or three times a week, but didn't get the chance to do so while I was out of town from May 20 through June 1. Since then, I've been dealing with the aftermath of the hard-drive failure discussed in my previous blog entry, but I'm back on track now.

If you enjoy photographing landscapes - particularly at iconic locations like our national parks - you've undoubtedly tried to create images that are like those of the great masters of photography. Your attempt may not have even been on the conscious level - your mind just composed the image in a way that, when you looked at the photograph later, looked vaguely familiar.

Is this lack of originality an entirely bad thing? Or can it be used as a springboard to your own creativity? Are we simply mimicking those who have gone before us, or are we able to develop our own skills by seeing just what our predecessors have managed to create?

I was faced with this very question as I looked out over the Snake River towards the Grand Tetons in Wyoming at the very end of May. Perhaps one of the most iconic photographs ever created, Ansel Adams' "The Tetons and the Snake River" is a truly sublime work of art:


This photograph is © 1942 Ansel Adams. Educational use is covered under the Fair Use doctrine.

When I found myself at the same overlook, I couldn't help but look for his tripod holes! Then again, with the dozens of other people trying to shoot the scene, I was lucky just to find some room. Knowing full well that I am not Ansel Adams, I composed my own version of the scene (click on the photo to see the full-size version):

© 2008 Alan Sisto / freshpageimages. All rights reserved.

It is a slightly different angle and, of course, the trees are much taller than they were in Adams' photograph. Still, anyone who is familiar with Adams' work will see the similarity...

So, does this make me less original? Less of an artist? Not surprisingly, I'd argue that it does not. When it comes to these grand vistas - Yosemite Valley is another example - an entirely unique perspective is nearly impossible to find. (The late Galen Rowell comes to mind, though: he would simply climb a nearby vertical cliff in order to find a new angle - but most of us are not accomplished mountain goats!) What matters isn't just where you put your tripod, but where you put your mind. Sure, I could have tried to re-create Adams' image as precisely as possible, but instead, I created my own version, allowing the light and clouds to dictate the feel of the image. Okay, it's not entirely original; it's like a cover version of a classic rock tune. But it still takes a musician to pull off a great cover...

The point is this: don't be afraid to stand on the shoulders of the giants and learn from their work.