Not that long ago, a friend of mine referred to the act of photographing waves derisively - as if it weren’t a serious photographic act. It wasn’t directed at me, it was a generalized statement in the context of what constitutes real photographic work.
I don’t much remember what preceded or followed it, because it stopped me in my tracks. This is a person that I have a lot of respect for - another person who’s given much of their life to the art and craft of photography and tried to use it in ways to affect positive change. The conversation was over beers, and sometimes, over beers, it’s easy to trot out a sort of dogma of industry in a reflexive manner.
Too much time in the industries of media and journalism can give one a sense that certain types of photography, (or writing, or filmmaking etc) are not serious pursuits. Pictures of waves are not news. They have no timely utility. From that perspective, the speaker wasn’t wrong. But I’m only assuming that perspective, and why should it be so limited?
From a general perspective? So wrong!
What is serious is what the photographer takes the time to look at. It doesn’t matter what it is, or what any particular market sector may value it at. If the photographer senses wonder, fun, joy or pleasure, if they come from a place of concern or curiosity, it is serious. The act of truly attending to something phenomenological is one of the more rebellious acts available to us. It is a rejection of everything that ultimately holds no meaning and an act of love to everything that does.
The idea that photographing waves isn’t a serious act hit me personally. I’ve known since my time in journalism school that some of the most important parts of life worthy of daily discussion and reflection have no place in the industry. I’ve lamented this since.
As a poor but enthusiastic surfer, I have admired looking at waves since before I first paddled out on the Atlantic Coast when I was eighteen. For years, I’ve made a point of attending to the waves I see in southeast Michigan. Only occasionally are they the sort I could surf on but that’s not the point.
The point is the act of looking and imagining and photographing. The Lake1 is relaxing, it is tormenting, it is mysterious. It is a balm and a battle, often in the same day.
Doing my best to do these ideas justice might not pierce the veil of a political problem, but also - it might.2 The Lake is significantly threatened (by industry, by invasive species, by climate change generally) just like much of what is good right now.
What is the right way to show what we need to save? Does the act of looking and appreciating have a role in this? I suspect it may.
Anyways, I can’t think of many things that are more serious to photograph. I can think of plenty that are just as serious, but the waves are not less so - and I fear the world where we think they are.
Just a brief note to welcome and thank both the new subscribers and those of you who opted into a paid subscription - gestures I am humbled by.
Over time, you’ll see a lot about Lake Michigan. When it comes to photographic subjects, it’s one of the ones I’ve been most devoted to for years. I don’t see that stopping any time soon. It’s too important, it encompasses too many of the broader issues I’m concerned about, and I’m too personally connected.
https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/article/2024/may/29/widening-the-lens-photography-exhibition-environment
People that think waves aren’t a serious thing to photograph haven’t seen the work of Ben Thouard.
Lovely shot by the way.
Love this! And great photo! A good reminder to check in with myself to see what am I attending to and noticing!