** Books mentioned have Amazon affiliate links, meaning I make a few cents if you purchase through my link. I only recommend books that I’ve read.
Learning to draw can teach us how to learn to see. Years ago, an acquaintance recommended that I take a drawing class to help me with my photography. I followed through and took a class based on the book – Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain by Betty Edwards. I learned two important things in that class.
1. Anyone can learn to draw decently. All you have to do is learn to see what’s right in front of you, not the image in your head. The exercises in the book show you how to do just this.
“Drawing can teach us to see: to notice properly rather than gaze absentmindedly. In the process of recreating with our own hand what lies before our eyes, we naturally move from a position of observing beauty in a loose way to one where we acquire a deep understanding of its parts.” ~ The Philosopher’s Mail
2. I discovered Frederick Franck (Zen Seeing, Zen Drawing), a draw-er and sculptor, who became one of my mentors for seeing and life.
“Firstly, we’re likely to be so busy taking the pictures, we forget to look at the world whose beauty and interest prompted us to take a photograph in the first place. And secondly, because we feel the pictures are safely stored on our phones, we never get around to looking at them, so sure are we that we’ll get around to it one day.” ~ The Philosopher’s Mail
Frederick Franck agreed with the quote above – specifically, that photography can get in the way of actually seeing what’s there. Drawing is naturally a slow process, inviting us to observe closely. We often forget to do this in photography. However, I believe that the practice of contemplative photography can help us to see what’s really there – just like drawing does. Through careful observation and exploring multiple perspectives, we can come to a deeper understanding of the parts and the whole.
The camera is an instrument that teaches people to see without a camera. ~ Dorothea Lange
Does the camera get in the way of your seeing? I’d love to hear your thoughts on this.
Note: This post was inspired by an article in The Philosopher’s Mail – Why you should stop taking pictures on your phone – and learn to draw.
Further Reading
* Photography, Drawing, and Seeing
* Patricia Turner guides us in looking at and sketching the landscape before photographing in this wonderful (and free) e-book, A Field Guide for the Contemplative Photographer.
First I want to say what an exquisite photo! Something in me just *responds* to it – the alternating light and shadow, and probably the uniformity. It is soothing – maybe the unspoken rhythm… I resonate with what you say about “using the camera to see what’s really there…through exploring multiple perspectives.” I will often take multiple shots of the same thing from different angles. Although, sometimes it’s only afterwards, when viewing the photo that I will *see* what’s really there – the little nuances that I didn’t see through the camera. The camera seems to help me *focus.* I experience this the most when I am taking shots of single objects, rather than landscapes. It helps me to pay attention to the detail in what I’m seeing. I do find that the camera does “get in the way” of my seeing when taking landscape photos.
Hi Christine, I was very excited when I “saw” that image. That type of seeing is available to all of us all of the time, but we rarely see it. I’m curious about why you think that the camera gets in the way for landscape shots. Is there a different approach we could take – for example, Patricia Turner’s way of sitting with the scene and doing some sketching before we reach for the camera.
Yes, it’s probably a matter or slowing down more and connecting to *see* what’s there *before* I start snapping. 🙂 With landscape shots (land, sky, clouds, trees, plants, maybe a lake, etc.) looking through the camera I feel as if everything is a blur, everything merges in to everything and it has an overwhelming feeling. But this could also be a reflection of where I am internally – too much going on, and so I am drawn to a more simple, defined subject, if you know what I mean…
I know what you mean – overwhelming is a good word for it. How do we translate what we see within the frame. It’s not easy. Personally, I prefer working in close, noticing the smaller details.
Eddie Soloway on Essence – http://www.eddiesoloway.com/2011/12/important-photos-misty-dawn/
Kim, thank you for the link you provided below. (I couldn’t reply underneath that one.) I really resonated with what he said – “letting go of the giant reality…and connect to the essence…”
I think that the camera – properly considered and employed – is an excellent tool for recording what I see, as well as how I see it. It’s like sketching…I capture several images at various settings in-camera, both thoughtfully and experimentally chosen, then import them into Lightroom and cull them (thank you Kim Klassen!) and see which images ‘speak’ to me as well as which are technically usable raw material. Then I further think about what I have captured – trends, ‘icons,’ themes, etc. and enjoy the photo editing process with the same thoughtful/experimental process (thank you David duChemin and Kim Klassen). I’ve always loved to ‘make stuff’.’ I majored in painting (Univ of Denver 1982) but my favorite classes had to be drawing. I continue to play with many media. Studyiing contemplative photography – thanks to you – in recent weeks has energized and inspired me to create…in any visual medium. Yes, you are speaking ‘photography’ but your wisdom applies beyond to other arts…creativity in general: just what I’m craving. I work full time, but make time for my art. Haven’t had time to draw in a few years, but today I dug up my sketchbook and pens and my Zen Seeing book.
Thank you for making sense of all this for me.
xoxo
Thanks for explaining your process, Cindy. What I hear you say is that photography can also be a tool for learning to see, but we can use many different mediums to practice.
I believe anyone can be shown how to see in a “painterly” way: To take note of perspective, shadow, shapes, patterns and textures. Much of the skill is learned through being mindful and “staying” with what you see.
Nice to see you here, Sue! Yes, I too believe that anyone can learn to see in a painterly way. As a painter yourself, I love that you say that the skill is learned by being mindful and staying with what you see – exactly what is practiced with contemplative photography.
I love that photo with the striped reflections on the glass table-top and the diffused lighting. Such a lovely atmosphere.
I have sometimes wondered if the camera is a hindrance to really seeing… and I find the exercise of being without a camera on purpose develops my seeing skills.
That book about drawing with the left side of the brain sounds really good and I’m sure it’s worth exploring.
Interesting that you of all people, Sandra, see the importance of sometimes being without the camera. I say that because you have such a unique way of seeing with your camera. I do believe that, as photographers, we can get into a bad habit of bringing our camera to the eye too quickly. If it’s not there, we can’t do that.
So much of this is new to me, but since I have been exploring contemplation in various forms – most recently with photography, I am learning to ‘see differently’, to pay attention. Thank you for saying that anyone can learn to draw decently! I have felt – probably a false impression – that those who can draw are a bit smug about their talent and, thus, unwittingly squelch my interest in ‘trying’. I really do want to see what I can do. Where would be a good place to start? (Daring to ask is a “start” for me. Ha.)
Photography has definitely changed the way I see, with and without the camera. But there is also something special that happens when I have my camera in hand – it is as if the act of holding the camera triggers a certain mindset – something that says “slow down – your camera mediation has begun”. It is like a switch turning on. But even within my photographer mindset, I still find that I often hurry on to the “next” thing that may be around the corner – especially when I am in a new place.