I should start by saying I’m not a confrontational person and am deeply uncomfortable with expressing strong opinions in a world already full of them! But sometimes it’s important to stick your head above the parapet, even if it serves no purpose than to quieten the dialogue in your own head.
In my area of work, I deal with many successful people from all over the world. On the whole, people are just people, with the same insecurities and humour. Successes and talents are seldom mentioned, and it is through good old-fashioned camaraderie and communication that connections are made. However, on rare occasions, you meet someone so full of their own self-importance and perceived success that it pervades everything they say and do.
Interestingly, it is often the people who are lacking in other areas who exude the most entitlement. The effect they have on those around them can be marked—some are intimidated and let them get away with outrageous behaviour, others seek to win favour, and some realise life is too short and only engage with them when absolutely necessary. While I probably fall into the latter group, I sometimes feel the need to challenge such attitudes, which partly encouraged me to write this blog.
Elitism in the arts is nothing new and, to some extent, is to be expected. But it is disappointing when it seeps into the little corner of the photography world I inhabit, especially given the considerable consequences it can have on people's enjoyment of the hobby.
The Article That Sparked This Blog
The article that prompted this blog appears on the website of photographer Demiray Oral, titled "How Social Media Nudges Are Fueling Plagiarism in Landscape Photography." The gist of his essay is interesting enough and likely well-discussed in various landscape photography forums:
• How chasing likes can stifle creativity
• Popular styles becoming the norm as people replicate what gains attention
• True artistry not being measured by likes or shares
All of these points are almost certainly true and important topics for someone with a voice in the photography world to promote and educate on. However, it is when Demiray offers his personal view that my eyebrows were raised. His writing is delivered in such a condescending and self-aggrandizing tone that any valid points are overshadowed. I encourage you to read the whole article to form your own interpretation, as it is possible I have missed the point, but here is one quote I found particularly egregious:
"A few years back, I became part of a small group of local photographer friends. We’d head out together on shoots, and while the camaraderie was what I sought, the experience came with its quirks. They copied me mercilessly, a habit I chose to overlook. I wasn’t there to compete; I enjoyed the company. Yet, over time, it became clear why this copying persisted. It wasn’t ill-intentioned—far from it. They simply weren’t particularly skilled photographers. And there’s no shame in that; everyone has to start somewhere. What struck me, though, was their lack of desire to improve."
I don’t know Demiray personally and have only a vague awareness of his work through social media, and there is no doubting he is a talented photographer. Perhaps his experience is entirely accurate, but it is a bold step to put such sentiments into the public sphere. It is a shame because the point he is trying to make is lost beneath the condescension.
My Perspective on Photography
My own experience with photography is not unique and likely mirrors that of many other photographers to some extent. My priorities are my family, my work, and my photography, in that order. However, I invest a lot of energy and focus into my photography. I’m out shooting a couple of times a week, spend my free time editing photos, researching locations, and consuming photography-related content on YouTube and podcasts.
My personal circumstances mean I can’t drive to remote places in Scotland to discover untouched woodlands. Instead, I focus on visiting areas within a couple of hours from me that I can visit before or after work. In my region, this means the Dorset coastline, Savernake, Dartmoor, and the like—well-trodden and well-photographed locations. I go out when I can and get the conditions I’m given, usually with no purpose other than photographing what I enjoy. Over time, my preferences have been shaped by using my camera regularly.
Sometimes the scenes I photograph have been captured before, and sometimes they haven’t. I don’t recall ever deliberately trying to recreate someone else’s shot, but inevitably, there will be overlap. Perhaps, as I’ve interpreted Demiray’s article, this is because my tiny mind cannot find its own creativity, having been influenced by better photographers who took the shot first. With this logic, I should credit these “more worthy” photographers for inspiring me to press the shutter button and spend more time photographing things I don’t enjoy, if I am to be taken seriously.
For many, photography is a way to deal with stress, mental health issues, or an escape from daily life. The pressure exerted by these elitist viewpoints are dangerous as they could be enough to turn someone away from the hobby or, at worst, discourage them from sharing their work. This happens often it would seem. A close friend of mine experienced this but thankfully overcame that mindset and returned to photography. For those who don’t, they lose a valuable part of themselves in the process.
Challenging Elitist Opinions
No one should be victimised or pushed away for failing to meet some bizarre creative ideal. Such opinions should be challenged, even if the challenge comes from a photographer like me with very little reach or influence.
If, as often discussed, there are seven basic stories in literature that form the basis of all fiction, then the same concept can apply to photography. No matter how original you think you are, someone is probably doing the same thing independently by coincidence, with the same ideals and motivations. A rainbow over Chrome Hill? Someone else has shot that before mate, best not press the shutter. Perhaps the only unique imagery left for the elitist photographer is to seize the opportunity of having their head so far up their own backside that they can shoot (or, as an elitist might say, “make”) an intimate portrait of their colon. Imagine the lovely textures.
A Simple Conclusion
A mature conclusion would offer an insightful opinion of my own, but the crux of my response is simple enough: shoot what you want, post what you want, and if you’re inspired by someone, let them know. Do you and don’t let others make you question your self worth. Ultimately, be a good human being and try your best. I’m only qualified to offer that opinion because that’s my own mantra in life.
However, as I’m not mature, I hold a firm belief that all beef should be aired in the form of rhyme, adapted from the Umbongo advert - like a budget Kendrick Lamar.
Way down deep in the middle of the forest,
Demiray claimed, “My vision is the purest!”
He critiqued all the others, their ideas he dismissed,
And blogged about how his art alone should exist!
Demiray, Demiray, his ego is enormous!
He mocked his friends for daring to create,
And scoffed at their snaps as a cheap mistake.
He worshipped Adams and Galen Rowells fame,
While dismissing the rest as “all the same!”
Demiray, Demiray, his vision is so flawless!
He snapped up mist and tangled trees,
And said, “I’m the master of shots like these!”
But the forest snickered, unimpressed by his might,
For art isn’t owned—it’s everyone’s right!
So when it comes to snapping trees and mists that softly play,
We all prefer the humble peers—not one like Demiray!
I'll put my handbag away for the next blog, which is likely to be a summary of my favourite photographs of the year.
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