Symbolism

It is good to look at something and recognize symbolism, allegory or deeper truth. This is a troublesome statement, and must quickly be qualified, for I think that many of us have been made to endure specious or disingenuous interpretations of symbolism in Art. Few people make it through higher education, for example, without being subjected to uninspired interpretations of symbolism in literature, painting or music. These classes are monotonous because they are presented in the wrong way. No one is inspired simply by cataloguing information. It takes an investment of emotional and creative energy on the part of the viewer to turn what is seen into something deeper and more personal or universal. Sadly, because we are often taught in school merely to accept and memorize the deeper elements of symbolism in Art, many people file the process away in a corner of their mind, never to be accessed again.

 
But this does not mean that meaning in artwork or literature is hogwash. It just means that it must be approached in the right frame of mind, with a more creative and unconventional approach to observation. Indeed, if the style of observation is conventional, then categorically we may say that the interpretation will be uninspired and unengaging, because our creative mind is not activated, our problem-solving capacity not put to work to understand what we are seeing.

 
As creative types, it can be a strong temptation to force symbolism and meaning into our work, but without the spark the fire will not light. The result of this attempt is pretension, which is often no better than imitation of the work of others. Long-winded captions that seem necessary to explain the meaning behind a photograph are another example. Generally, it is a far better idea to leave out the whole concept of symbolism than to force it. But, for those of us who would like for something deeper to perhaps develop naturally in our work, embracing imperfection and serendipity can be a way to let that happen without forcing it. In my experience, the results of happy accidents are only revealed to have any deeper substance later on. More likely, when I had thought a photograph taken had some spark of symbolism at the time of shooting, it turned out to be quite dead upon considering the photograph later.

 
Before leaving the subject, let me just add that any consideration of depth and meaning in your photography can only be properly evaluated by your audience, not by yourself. As creative types, we often have a sense that something may be there, lurking somewhere in the shadows. But in photography as in other mediums, communication is an approximation. As a writer, I have been made keenly aware time and again that what I had thought to be crystal clear communication is in fact not clear at all. What I tend to hear in my head when I read a passage is not so much the meaning of the words I put on the paper, but the ideas which I intended to convey. Fiction writers experience this sometimes when their readers develop a liking or a dislike of characters that the author had intended for them to feel the opposite way about. It is the same way in photography – perhaps a little less, since there is less subtext involved in imagery than in a collection of words, but the concept holds. The best that we can do is trust our intuition to recognize the possibility of the presence of the spark. It is up to our audience to see if it is really there.