This from an article written by Michael Gregory. There is
much more of the article but I would like to share this small but important
bit:
“The word seeing is itself ambiguous in the very
sense that the photographic style is ambiguous. That is, it means two distinct
things at the same time. First, it means the recognition of an imageable scene,
and the recording of that scene by photographic means. But seeing means,
at the same time, something quite different. It means having insight; that
is, intuitively understanding. And here we come to the real point, a
valid basis for defining photographic style. It means having insight.
First we must ask “insight into what?” And “intuitively
understand what” To answer these questions, we must consider what a photograph
ultimately means. What a photograph communicates. The answer, I
think, is that the photograph communicates the imcommunicable, that it means
exactly itself—no less and no more, and that is enough. This is another way of
saying that the photograph is a symbol of the experience, which unites
photographer and object in a given recordable instant of meaning. It is
important to understand that the photograph is not merely the recording
of that experience, but rather its symbolic equivalent.
What do we mean by “symbolic equivalent?” The nearest
definition I think is that which T.S. Eliot provided for poetry; that poetry is
the ”objective correlative” of an experience which is in itself
unverbaizable; beyond rational, logical language. The poem, Eliot says, is a
kind of formula for the experience which, through it uses language, surpasses
it, and enables the poet to communicate the incommunicable.
The same holds true, I would assert, for photography. How do
we know when we are in the presence of a photograph which is a symbolic
equivalent for an experience—a photograph possessing “style”? We know it by the
quality of our response; the depth and intensity and unspeakableness of the
emotional reaction we feel within us as we view the photograph. We can tell,
too, by the uniqueness of that response. If we feel what we have never, in just
the same way, before, we know we are confronting style. For style can never be
cliché; these are the old, irreconcilable enemies. If we are viewing, les us
say, the photograph of a forlorn child holding a torn and grimy doll and we
say, “the poor thing!” we are in the presence of cliché, not style. If on the
other hand, we say nothing and feel a strange and unique admixture of emotions
to which the cliché exclamation would be blasphemy, we know that we are in the
power of photographic style—the exact equivalent of an indescribable, memorable
emotion response…