Hunt. Fish. Farm. Prior to the industrial age, these were basically the only choices available to a hungry human hoping to fulfill their daily caloric needs.
But times change, and for the majority of today’s first-world burghers, it’s take-out, vending machine and frozen food aisle that top the list of options to sate a rumbling belly. Industrialized sustenance might offer the advantage of convenience, but I would posit that a blackberry plucked fresh from the vine is infinitely more satisfying than a blackberry-flavoured popsicle dropped from the lunchroom vending machine.
In case you’re wondering — no, I haven’t just rebranded ULTRAsomething as a foodie blog. I’m still writing about photography — I’m just indulging in metaphors again.
Take-out, vending machine and frozen food aisle are stand-ins for Photoshop, Affinity Photo and PaintShop Pro — three popular options for the modern photographer looking for “likes” in these dog-eat-dog days of social media. And while these options might indeed yield images as quickly and conveniently as a popsicle from a vending machine, they are equally void of nutritional value. So as long as I’m on my positing pedestal, I’ll also declare that a naturally compelling photo is infinitely more satisfying than one which tries to manufacture its charisma through extensive software manipulation.
So what about hunt, fish and farm? For what photographic techniques are these terms a substitute? I would suggest that the photographic equivalent for these words are: hunt, fish and farm. Which makes this perhaps the lamest metaphor I’ve ever crafted.
But even if you’ve succumbed to the seductive allure of altering your photos through illustration and collage, you still need to gather the raw ingredients — some assemblage of pixels with which to begin. And where do you get those pixels? You hunt, fish or farm for them.
Hunting for photos is what I do. It involves hitting the streets with nothing more than a small camera and a pocket full of hope. Hunters have no idea what their cameras will shoot that day — if anything. A successful hunt could feed your ego for months, while a string of unsuccessful hunts leaves you enervated and desperate. Hunters never stop moving. Fast shutters and good shoes are key. Hunters are always searching; always scanning the immediate surroundings for something — anything that might look tasty in a frame. I think of Daido Moriyama stalking the streets of Shinjuku. Or Josef Koudelka, who seemingly travels 100,000 kilometers per published photograph.
Go to any “street photography” class, and you’ll inevitably find it taught by a fisherman. Fishermen prefer to locate areas ripe with potential photo opportunities, and then cast a net. Fishing might mean attending events, parties or celebrations because you know you’ll be going home with something in your camera. Or fishing might mean locating the most intriguing geometric spot in the neighbourhood, and then waiting patiently for something to happen within it. Most of the great photojournalists or documentary-style photographers are fishermen, and why not? Fishing produces a steadier stream of photos than the ‘feast or famine’ nature of hunting, and it’s a lot less stressful. I think of Henri Cartier-Bresson as the consummate fisherman. Or Lee Friedlander for those of us with more esoteric tastes. Fishermen possess patience. I do not. 7 seconds is roughly the maximum amount of time I can stand still and wait for a photo opportunity to materialize before pounding more pavement.
Farming is what most photographers do if they want an actual income. Growing your own photos in a studio or under a controlled environment is a lot less risky than wandering around aimlessly with a camera, or spending hours hunkered down over some little spot you’re fishing that day. Farmers grow their own photos from the seeds of an idea, rather than relying on chance encounters in nature. Motion blur, focus errors and lighting challenges disappear. There’s no such thing as a missed shot. My photographic journey actually began with farming, and I may yet choose to till a little corner of the condo should the hunting prove too lean. Farming might lack the thrill of the hunt, but you’ll never be lacking for portfolio fodder. Most photographers with names known to the general public qualify as farmers: Richard Avedon; Annie Leibovitz; Helmut Newton. But for me, Frantisek Drtikol is the one who first got me interested in farming, and his shapes, tones and shadows still fertilize my imagination to this day.
Some of you may wonder why this metaphorical list neglects other nutriment-satisfying activities, like ranching, foraging or trapping. The reason, of course, is that ranching is just farming for carnivores; foraging is simply hunting for vegetarians; and trapping is fishing for non-pescatarians. In the end, if we want to satisfy our hunger for images, we all must first become hunters, fishermen or farmers — even if our ultimate goal is only another popsicle for our Instagram feed.
So what feeds your photography? Are you a farmer who pursues photography with the same creative vision and aesthetic refinement that motivates painters, sculptors and other studio-based artists? Or are you a healthy and well-balanced fisherman who effortlessly merges life and friendship with an appreciative eye and a passion for photography? Or maybe you’re like me — a hunter seduced by the unknown, obsessed with the chase, riddled with uncertainty, yet nourished by photographic possibilities deemed unpalatable to many?
©2017 grEGORy simpson
ABOUT THE PHOTOS:
The three photos accompanying this article could only come from the camera of a hunter. I can assure you I would never have thought to stage a scene in which a man in a clown suit pushes his contented child in a stroller. And I could fish all year, but no matter how hard I tried, I’m certain that I would never land a photo of a man about to eat a shoe. And I still can’t fathom how Forrest Gump beat out Pulp Fiction for the Best Picture Oscar in 1994, so you can be certain this is not the sort of image I would choose to either fish for or farm — but hunters can’t be choosers.
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Hunting, with a dose of fishing for me. Hunting is the most satisfying, fishing the most aggravating. I, too, have little patience to wait for a shot to happen. In spite of that, my favorite shot of the year (so far) happened whilst fishing. So there you go…
Farming is really not my interest (says the guy whose occupation is basically farming).
Nice set of photos today – made me laugh at each. Hope you are well!
Thanks, Hank.
I suspect most folks who bother with this site are hunters. Perhaps a sprinkling of fishermen here and there. I’d be surprised to learn any farmers read this site — the disheveled nature of hunting photos are anathema to the more pristine imaging goals of the average farmer. Though curiously, when I do dabble in farming, it’s with the goal of creating a photo that’s every bit as sloppy as one of my hunting shots.
Fascinating. I am trying to place myself on the spectrum, perhaps you can help. I don’t think of myself as a hunter in the sense that you describe, of perhaps not coming home with an image for days or weeks. But I always thought of fishing as finding a backdrop you like, such as a particular patterned wall, or crosswalk paint, or light falling across an object and then waiting for a matching/interesting person to walk through. But you describe it more along the lines of being somewhere busy to increase your odds, and that is what I tend to do. I try to go to the busiest places in my city; downtown during rush hour, the beach in summer, the shopping district on weekends. I will also work a particular intersection or area for hours if there is good light and interesting things going on. But its rarely a set background or concept. I guess I think of it more like hunting fish in a barrel 🙂
Hi Chris:
There is definitely a DNA connection between fishermen and hunters, in that both techniques require an element of chance and luck. The difference lies in the balance.
A fisherman knows he’s hunting for trout; he knows when they feed; where they feed and what they’re feeding on. He travels to that spot, wades into the stream, selects his fly and casts into the hole. Will he catch something? Maybe. Maybe not. But if he does catch something, it’s probably going to be a trout. Odds are good he’s not going to snag a possum for dinner. A fisherman knows he wants trout and, if he’s prepared, clever and a bit lucky, trout is what he’ll be eating.
Hunters, as I describe them, are not nearly as intelligent, methodical or mentally stable. A hunter might go down to the Hudson River, tie a shoe on a line, drop it in the water and drag it along behind him on his daily stroll. Odds are rather slim that he’ll catch something. But if he does, it’s got a good chance of being something, well… odd. Hunters’ tastes lean more toward yeti, Loch Ness monsters and chupacabra, which means there’s a very real possibility they might actually end up snagging a possum for dinner.
In a non-metaphorical sense, I (as a hunter) will often head in the opposite direction of the days’ big event because, as we all know, yetis, sea monsters and chupacabra are notoriously shy. Oh wait, I just slipped back into metaphors…
Amen Egor!
If the fact that you might come back without any exploitable images doesn’t fright you, then I would say definitely a hunter.
After that it’s what i’m hunting that gives me the thrill not the chase itself.
Whether their are stories or emotion or just walking in huge crowds stolling moments.
When the planet aligns (i’m Open, not to stressed, not to tired….) it’s a rare rewarding moment that lift me up for a couple of month each time
Cheers
Alex
Contrary to your suggestion I think that the hunter needs the most patience. Roaming the streets for hours and days on end hoping for serendipity to strike. Well that just sounds like the definition of patience to me. Or insanity 🙂
I reckon that the diligent hunter who works his territory frequently is “farming” to some degree. And if he suspects that he could “strike lucky” in one particular location might be “fishing” as he passes that spot for the 50th time. Hey but don’t let me mess with your similes. They’re good ones. I suspect that my recent lack of discipline has resulted in starvation hence the lack of photographic output. You know anyone into resurrection?
“Ever eat a Pine Tree? Many parts are edible.” This Euell Gibbons quote represents an essential philosophy for hunters. Sometimes you need to be willing to nibble on things, just to see whether or not they might be palatable. If you’re hungry for images and too weak to continue engaging in metaphors, then just remember this Garry Winogrand quote: “All things are photographable.” Many of my favourite photos turn out being things a fisherman would have thrown back; a farmer would have spayed with pesticide; or the average hunter would have tripped over whilst stalking bigger game.
So, the fast track to resurrection is simply to take a photo of something — anything. If you need to spit it out, go ahead. But then immediately take a photo of something else. Bite. Spit. Repeat. Until you get a photo you actually like. My photography has been embalmed and buried more times than I can count, but this technique reanimates me every time.
Good analogies. Useful, and largely right I think too.
I’m somewhere between hunter and fisherman. The choice scene / backdrop / light might lead to something of a controlled hunting ground. Working a patch. But it is a found patch.
Trent Parke for me is the ultimate fisherman – knowing how natural light will work at the specific place at a specific time, and trying over and over again to get something in that tight window.
But all of this sits at some bottom tip of your inverted Maslow pyramid. You hunt and gather well, but you are doing something else when you are out there ‘self-actualising’. Where, for example, do you put ‘fractured’, ‘slit scan’, or the likes of Are-Bure-Boke-Matic’s “Granular”, or, my favourite, “Rocket Man”? Where does your experiment with “time-folding” fit in – “Mad Science 3” in ‘Mad Science’, for example? EGOR, does there need to be some kind of fourth analogy in your taxonomy, or am I missing something? “Mad Science” makes molecular gastronomy spring to mind. Hunter with Post-Modern predilections?
Hi Linden:
You’ll get no argument from me about Trent Parke. Every time I sit down with my copy of ‘Minutes til Midnight’ I can’t decide if it’s so good that it inspires me to go be a better photographer, or if it’s so good that it inspires me to put down the camera and take up whittling instead.
Regarding the “outlier” photos that you mentioned — I consider those to be every bit as much “hunting” photos as the more traditional (i.e. “in focus-ish”) candids. Hunting is just a technique — and as such, it doesn’t really have anything to do with the taste (or sanity) of the hunter. In my case, I’m often hunting for something normally unseen or unnoticed. I’m hunting for a mood or a feeling. I’m hunting for something that I can stare at for years, and yet never figure out why I’m compelled to do so. Those are the images that become my favourite hunting ‘trophies.’
I scatter the seed, like a farmer. Then the birds comes, and I am the fisherman with my camera. The birds are excellent cover for capturing more furtive subjects – then I am the hunter.
Likewise as I roam between the spots where I feed the birds, I am again the hunter, following faint trails in the aether, letting my instincts guide me.
Sometimes the birds find me first and demand that they be fed. Then I am more like the hunted.