Recently, someone looked at one of my photographs and said "What *is* it?" Which is fine, because I've been doing more and more abstract work lately. But the follow-up was a little disturbing. "Why don't you title your photographs so we can tell what they are?"
I used to title my work, but it got to be too laborious given the quantity of new work I was churning out. Did I already use that title? Should this bew "Tree and Rock #3" or "Tree and Rock #4"? That one was "Surf and Sand", can I call this variation "Sand and Surf"?
What I settled on was the location and the date, except in the case of still life images where I usually just put the date. But the question "Why don't you title your photographs so we can tell what they are?" from a random gallery visitor made me re-think these practices.
The bottom line is, if someone is looking at one of my photographs and cannot tell what it is without being told or reading a description, then as a photographer I am either a total failure or a total success. Which one? Depends on what I'm trying to accomplish with the photograph. Given the direction I've been going, if you find one of my photographs to be pleasing but you have no idea what the hell you are looking at, then I consider it to be a complete success. If you're curious, go ahead and ask; I won't hesistate to try to explain what you are looking at. But don't expect me to spell it out for you in tiny letters in the lower left.
[ photograph above: Claremont Packing House, 2005 ]
