The photos to not take

Ever since the incident where a gunman attacked an Amish schoolhouse in Nickel Mines, Pennsylvania, and the media settled in to document everything about that event, I’ve been pondering this question: are there photographs I don’t want to make?  I’m not just considering the obvious case where the subject doesn’t interest me- I don’t want to make photographs of Madonna, or photographs of beetles, because I’m just not interested.  That’s a simple decision.  I’m pondering, really, the ethics of making photographs.  Nowhere have I seen that highlighted with quite the intensity as with the photographers on the scene in Nickel Mines, Pennsylvania back in October when a truck driver took an entire Amish schoolhouse hostage and killed five students.

The dilemma is straightforward – the Amish don’t want to be photographed.  If you’re a news photographer, your job is clear – get the photos that tell the story.  The actual treatment of this by various photographers is nicely covered in this article in the CJR.  But I’m not a photojournalist, so thankfully I’m not confronted with choices which are quite so stark.  I’m just a landscape photographer, so my decisions seem both less critical and less clear cut.  It doesn’t mean that my decisions aren’t important, or don’t have any impact on the art I make.  It just means the issues can be a little less intense, and the consequences of not getting the photo are a little less short term, and much more long term.

Unlike quite a few landscape photographers, I won’t jump a fence for a photo.  I’ll set my tripod against the fence, I’ll even set the tripod legs astride the fence if needed, but I won’t jump the fence.  The fence is there for a reason, and if I really want to be on the other side, I’ll get permission.  Likewise, I won’t go past ‘No Trespassing” signs without permission.  Property owners have the right to decide how their property is used, including the right to exclude people for any reason (or for no reason at all).  I want the owners of the landscape I photograph to exercise good stewardship.  If I want them to be responsible and respect the landscape, then I have to be responsible and respect their decisions.

Does this mean walking away from photos I wanted?  You betcha.  But every photographer who jumps a fence adds to the incremental resentment of property owners, and makes it that much harder for the next photographer to come along. There are places in the Palouse in Eastern Washington where trespassing photographers have pissed off the farmers so badly that the farmers harass any photographers they spot, regardless of whether they’re trespassing or not.   

This isn’t just “I won’t jump the fence if I’m likely to get caught”.  I don’t do it even if I’m positive that no one will even see me.  I believe my attitudes will show in the work I do, and it’s not a matter of getting caught, it’s a matter of having the right attitude. 

Beyond the obvious trespass issues, though, there are other situations where I won’t open the shutter.  If I’m setting up, and the property owner comes out and asks me to stop, I stop.  I stop even if I’m on a public right of way, and have every legal right to be where I am and photograph whatever I can see.  I don’t want the people who live where I’m photographing to feel that I’m an intruder, or that I’m a threat.  Will I talk with them, explain what I’m doing, and try to persuade them to let me photograph?  Sure – I won’t push hard, but I’ll give it a shot if I can keep it friendly.  But while I’m being charming and persuasive, I put away the camera and the tripod, to make it clear that I’ve stopped.  And, in the end, if they don’t change their mind, that’s it.  It’s their choice.  If they don’t want me to take the photograph, I don’t want to take it.

So I was very interested to read this post and comments over on Art & Perception.  The author, Richard Rothstein, is very concerned about his legal rights, and about how restrictions are being placed on where he can photograph and what he can photograph.  I have some sympathy for Rothstein, who is finding that his access to the subjects he wants to photograph is being curtailed.  That’s enormously frustrating.  And, I’ll be the first to point out that with the exception of private property issues, I believe that Rothstein has every legal right to photograph as he pleases.  He has a legal right to stand on the public sidewalk and take photographs of passers-by.  He has a legal right to stand in the public right of way and photograph a church.

But what I find missing from Rothstein’s post is this: the fact that we have a legal right to do something doesn’t mean that it’s right to go ahead and do it.  The law may not prevent me from photographing up women’s dresses in public, but that doesn’t make it right to do so.  It’s wrong.  And in the same sense, I’m very uneasy with Mr. Rothstein and his legal right to photograph that church, if what he’s doing is increasing the concern on the part of the congregation of that church that they might become targets of violence.

And so I found the following snip of comment from that same Art and Perception post chilling:

It’s always good to find ways to join rather than fight the local community. Disguises are sometimes useful.

Is this what we’ve come to – that we’re so intent on making our art that we’ll engage in deception to get the photo?  I’d like to think that the person who wrote that made a bad choice of words, but I’m not optimistic about that.  I’m afraid that we’ve reached the point that we feel that if something is legal, that means it’s perfectly ok for us to go ahead and do it. 

And, if that’s the case, I can only quote Samuel Goldwyn : “Gentlemen, include me out”.