Why Photographers Obsess on Lighting Techniques...

...and other craft and technical stuff.

I received an email today from Amazon. In it, they were touting Joe McNally's book, The Moment It Clicks.

Amazon often sends these sorts of emails to their customers. They know most all of my purchases from them have been photography books. I guess they figure any new purchases I'm likely to make will, more than likely, also be photography related. And they're probably right. (I love being so predictable. I suppose Amazon loves this about me as well.)

As I often do, I clicked on the reviews and read, what Amazon refers to as, "The most helpful favorable review." What can I say? I try to be optimistic that way. Here's how that particular customer review began:

"Picture this. You meet one of the world's great photographers in a bar. He has a stack of pictures with him from his portfolio. As you go through the pictures, he talks about them, about the people in the photographs, and how he made each of them. About a third of the way through you realize that when he talks about the technical details he talks mostly about the lighting, and you are sorry you didn't pick up on that right from the beginning, but now you listen avidly to try to learn his lighting techniques."

Great opening paragraph! The review succeeded in sparking my interest. But it also got me thinking. (Thinking? Uh oh! Danger Will Robinson!)

Anyway, my thinking wasn't so much about McNally's book but about many books related to photography. Specifically, all those "how-to" books related to photography. And then I began thinking about all the other "how-to" stuff related to this thing we do: Stuff like blogs and websites and workshops and seminars designed to help photographers shoot better pictures. My brain then focused on the crazy popularity of such things amongst photo hobbyists and enthusiasts and pros and semi-pros.

Then, I started thinking about how all us consumers (of such "how-to" things) have come to believe that craft and technical skills, i.e., learning about lighting and exposure and Photoshop and gear and all those not-so-secret secrets of the pros, are the things that make a great photographer. And how, if we learn that stuff, we'll all be great photographers. And then, suddenly, I realized it's all bullshit.

Sure, learning the craft and technical stuff often is the foundation of great photography. But it isn't necessarily the stuff of great photographers. The sad truth (for us mere mortal shooters) is that great photographers didn't learn to be great photographers by simply learning technical skills. They became great photographers because they had that potential for greatness already within them. And that's something that can't be learned or taught or gleaned from a book. It can't be gotten from websites or at seminars and workshops. All that stuff might be part of the equation but it's not the solution to the equation.

When a great photographer shares the things they might believe made them great, it isn't going to make anyone else great. It might help make other photographers more competent but it isn't going to make anyone a truly great and successful photographer. Although the sharing (by wildly successful photographers) of craft and tech info might convince others it will include a road map to greatness, all of that sharing is designed, in reality, for one purpose: To make money for the celebrated photographer and to boost their rep for greatness. (Not to create more level playing field competition for the successful photographer-author.)

Don't get me wrong. It's all good. It's the way these things work. Carrot-dangling is a major component of marketing. I'm not in any way put off by any of this. There's a good chance I'll still buy McNally's book even though I realize that all this stuff I've just written about means his book, or any other book, isn't going to make me a great photographer. I'll still buy it because, against my new-found better judgment, I hold out hope that McNally's book, like the many other books I've already purchased, will somehow and against logic, contain a magic pill that will make me a great photographer. But I also realize there is no magic pill that McNally or anyone else can prescribe and dispense to me. If I ever turn out to be a truly great photographer, the stuff of greatness is already within me. All I have to do is figure out how to get in touch with it, assuming it's even there.

The behind-the-scenes shot at the top is the beautiful Nautica in my studio from a couple of years ago. Two assistants helping! One of them shooting smoke and the other fanning it away from the front-side of the model.