Today’s Globe and Mail carried an article by photographer Ian Brown entitled “Humanity takes millions of photos every day. Why are most forgettable?” In his article Brown reveals that he was recently on a panel of judges for the Banff Mountain Photography Competition in which no winner was awarded, a first in 18 years. The judges could not find one photo out of over 500 entrants that told a worthy story. In his article, Brown laments the proliferation of “photo grabs” at the hands of the smart phone carrying masses. He goes as far as to say that taking photos, “capturing the moment”, has become an addiction to instant gratification. Brown underlines his case when he quotes Edmonton writer Ted Bishop who states:

“In a culture where print and ink are disappearing, more and more people get tattoos: They satisfy our desire for permanence, for the stain of the real. As we live less and less physically and more and more virtually, we take pictures as substitutes for the real.”

I would recommend reading the comments section under Brown’s article. It is almost more interesting and as provocative as the article itself. Does Brown have a point?  I must say I do find it interesting that in this same week I found the following articles, all worth a read: “Is Smartphone Photography Killing Our Memories and Experiences?“, “Post Process: Why the Smartphone Camera Changed Photography Forever,” “Annie Leibovitz Talks About the Future of Professional Photographers” and “New Series: Big Time Photographers Talk About Their Most Iconic Shot.”  It seems that the recent dismissal of the Chicago Sun-Times photography staff has photography enthusiasts and pros alike reflecting on the changing nature of photography, the impact of digital disruption, and the very definition of a photo versus a snapshot.

You might wonder where I stand. Well, it’s no mystery that I love great photography. The kind that makes you think. Makes you feel. That elicits an emotion. I love photography that reminds us of who we are and where we have been. I love photos that tell a story. That have “the stain of the real.” Can such photography come from an iPhone? Yes!  Is there too much “bad photography” out there now? Probably. But there is so much more good, and I’m amazed how easy it is to find and appreciate it every day. I love the grittiness of the wonderful “Humans of New York” series. I love the work of Larry Towell (referenced in Ian Brown’s article and proudly from my home county). I follow National Geographic legend Steve McCurry’s photo blog as passionately as I follow the Blue Jays and Maple Leafs. I also love the photos my sister takes of my niece, nephews and parents when I cannot be home to see them. And I admit that I enjoy Instagram shots of fantastic food when I’m hungry (gasp) and the often stark, colourful and creative snaps taken every moment by my colleagues on Oggl. In this new digital, highly visual age, images have the power to capture our imagination quicker than words. Some have fleeting impact and some stay with you forever.

Is my photo above good? Well, it will not win an award. But it does have a story. My first trip to Tofino, British Columbia found me far away from home and in awe of my rugged, captivating surroundings. On the day this shot was taken, a wedding took place on the beach in front of Long Beach Lodge where I was staying. While I sat having my supper in the late afternoon sun, I watched the wedding party, all in bare feet, take their vows, their toes digging into the sand as a band played. And then they danced. All along the giant swath of Cox Bay, the Pacific Ocean their back drop. Magic!  After the wedding party finally left the beach, I dug out my camera and walked the same beach looking for a “captured moment” on my final night in Tofino. The air was fresh. The waves crashed in the distance as the tide made its way in. I was not alone. Two surfers finished their day and watched the sun set with me, exhausted and elated. In the distance, a hiker watched the same sunset from high on a rock looking out over the ocean. I was there, in that moment, and took a picture that makes me smile today. I can still smell the ocean and hear the pounding surf. Can you? I hope so.

As always, thanks for stopping by!