You shoot perfect pictures. But are they the photographic equivalent of fast food? Maybe it’s time to consider changing the way you shoot and reject sausage machine images.
Piers thrust themselves into dead-still water, birds perch on rocks, beautiful women show off their perfect bodies, the interiors of decaying buildings crumble, distant snow-topped mountains reflect in lakes, and light shines off polished Porsches. If you look at any photo community website, there are thousands of technically flawless images like these. Each is a well-executed, flawlessly sharp representation of the subject. They are well lit, and their compositions, colors, contrasts, and exposure fit with everything we know about photography. They look great.
But after browsing your way through a few pages in any genre, doesn’t each successive photograph make you gradually lose interest?
However technically perfect they are, they no longer surprise us. I would go as far as to say that most are clichés, unoriginal imitations of similar photos that came before them. Occasionally, one does jump out and grab your attention because it is unique, but most fall into the category of what I call sausage machine photography.
Similarly, we appeal to our audiences by adding continuity between a string of images, as I mentioned in my previous article about photographic essays. This usually means sticking to one type of photography. Most great photographers are known for doing just that, concentrating on one genre, or, at least, one genre at a time.
Sausage Machine Commercial Photography
Of course, there is a commercial need for these kinds of shots: car advertisers want to see those flashy fenders, and bird identification books need shots of separate species of a sparrow sitting on a stick, or indeed, a puffin on a rock. Unhappily, fashion magazines still require perfect images of unhealthily skinny young women with plastic-looking skin.
There is nothing wrong with trying to achieve perfection in our images. It means that with each shot, we have studied our art, learned from our mistakes, and honed our techniques. We have studied other photographers’ works, and then emulated or even improved on them. Indeed, I would encourage everyone to seek the ability to achieve pristine photographs. However, commercial interests aside, we should then strive to be challenging in our photography, attempt to create something different.
Barriers to Being Different
It’s a tall order. Firstly, the photographic establishment expects images to cohere with its norms. Anyone who rejects the recognized standards will get pilloried for doing so. History has shown that this is true of any art form. Nevertheless, photography often seems to be stuck in the mud because a vocal conservative minority will deride anyone who suggests approaching it differently. For example, if one dares to suggest that great photographs can be shot with crop sensor cameras, the full frame fascists leap to attack.
Secondly, with around 1.5 trillion photos taken this year, shooting something unique becomes harder. Admittedly, only around 7% of those will be shot with digital cameras, with most being mobile phone snaps, but that’s still around 105 billion DSLR, mirrorless, and compact camera photos per year. In other words, 3,330 images are snapped every second by photographers like you. With that proliferation, it’s difficult to find a way of showing our viewers something new, because someone else is probably shooting something similar at the same time.
Nevertheless, there are still good reasons for breaking away from repetitive perfection and achieving compelling images that don’t comply with the accepted norms of the photographic establishment. Not least is the need to thrill our audience with surprises that keep them engaged with our work.
Lessons From the Other Arts
So, how can we surprise our viewers? There are lessons to be learned from other art forms, including cinema, television, books, and paintings.
Great photographers take things further than just shooting a single genre. Like some movie directors and cinematographers stick to using one focal length, some top photographers restrict themselves to just one too. Fixed apertures and shutter values, subject distances, and other compositional variables are kept the same within their collections. In this way, they make their portfolios more coherent and, consequently, more appealing to the viewer, especially if they reject the most widely used settings for that subject.
Then, there’s the image content. That’s where the big surprises sit.
Jump Scares, Big Reveals, and Plot Twists
The hand reaches out from under the bed and grabs the hero’s ankle (The Sixth Sense). The journalist looks at a photo and spots a vital clue that helps solve the mystery (The Girl with a Dragon Tattoo). A murder is revealed when an image from a hidden camera is developed (Enemy of the State). We are left wondering what was real and what was not (Total Recall).
They could easily become something of a cliché in movies, but the jump-scare, the climactic plot twist, and the big reveal still work. M. Night Shyamalan is a master of cinematic surprises, as was Alfred Hitchcock before him. In his written stories that were later televised, Roald Dahl added a twist to the end of his Tales of the Unexpected. They shock us and are often the turning point or climax of the story. Can we incorporate those sorts of surprises into photography?
It isn’t as easy as it is in stories. In books and films, the revelation happens at a point along a timeline and, individually, our pictures are a fixed point in time.
Nevertheless, we can surprise. For example, hiding a twist somewhere within the photograph, something we don’t immediately spot can make an image more compelling, assuming the viewer takes the time to see it. Alternatively, it can be a surprise image at the end of a sequence of photos that brings the whole series together. Adding a title to a photograph can also make the viewer see the image differently.
Things That Don't Sit Comfortably Together
Another approach is fitting disparate subjects together. Photographing things that are out of place with their environment can work too. Surrealist artists, such as René Magritte and Salvador Dalí, perfected this approach in their art. I am not suggesting you should have melting clocks on the beach or castles floating in the sky, but mundane objects out of place can have an impact and make the viewer think.
Hiding the Main Subject
Then again, the main subject of the image may be less obvious than the secondary subjects. For example, in the above photo, the leading line of the mast’s reflection draws the eye to the nearest boat. One is then taken further into the image to the larger hull, top right. It’s only then that one realizes that the real subject is relatively small and is not the boat at all.
I must reiterate that I am differentiating between creative and observational photographic art and commercial photography here. Commercial markets cry out for sausage machine images. My clients have specific expectations that fit into the norms of commercial photography, and it would be foolish of me not to meet their needs. Photographers making a living from their work know their photos must cohere with the expectations of the broader public; most people buy bland, mass-produced images from Ikea to hang on their walls.
The appeal of extraordinary photography that takes an effort to appreciate isn’t as big. But it has far greater value. There is space for more challenging, less usual photography too.
What Do You Think?
Do you shoot images that break free from the clichés? It would be fantastic to see them in the comments. Or are you solely shooting standard images with mass appeal? If so, do you disagree with my premise that we should shun the expectations of the photographic establishment? It would be great to hear your thoughts on this topic, even if you disagree with me.
Super comment, thanks Stuart. I hope you enjoy carrying on shooting what you like, how you like.
Thanks Ivor, I think we in the North East are lucky that there are so many original shots to be had away from the honeypot locations, and also plenty of scope to get one with a different feel to it.
I almost skipped this article fearing that it was another one of those pros telling amateurs what’s OK to shoot and what’s not for the benefit of “the industry.” Glad I didn’t. What a wonderful article. Really makes me think and get energized about what to go shoot next! Volume wise, I guess I mostly shoot “events”, high school marching band, Easter at church, even family vacations, where the “clients” (I’m an amateur ) generally just want to get a nice, flattering picture of themselves within some context. However, I always try to inject a few surprising ones: odd angles, un-natural processing (simply switching to B&W can often work), spy shot candids (400 f/2.8 works great for this!), or just inappropriately using a fisheye lens. These are almost always my favorites and generally produce the biggest reactions from others, not always in a good way! ;-)
Reminds me of the delightful surprises I had after putting a point and shoot camera in the hands of my 4 year old. The perspectives he captured where pretty amazing. Who would have thought capturing a low angle close up of your dad’s butt at a 37 degree angle would make such a compelling image? When I’m paying attention, I try to incorporate some of that not-how-to-do-it spirit in my photography.
High school marching band photography. It was the best! Yes there are the requisite photos, but if you keep your eyes open you can get the good ones, too.
https://www.grahamglover.com/OHS-and-St-Mark-Bands/OHS-Marching-Band-2016/
Thank you, David. I'm glad you took the time to read it. I did the same with my son when he was little, and I've got some photos I shot when I was 7. It's amazing how the untrained eye can produce super compositions. I hope we can see some of your work.
Graham, I enjoyed looking at that gallery. Marching bands are not such a big thing here in the UK. Apart from in the military, there are few to be seen. They make a great subject, and you've done a super job of capturing the joy of it.
For me, the enjoyment is in the process. If someone says it has been done millions of times before, so what? It may be a cliche painting or photograph, but it's MY cliche and I got pleasure from producing it and I enjoy looking at it. Maybe you could explain what you mean by "extraordinary photography" and how it could have "far greater value"...?
Agree. All these "extraordinary" photos are garbage in my opinion. You can win some kind of competition or praise on some website but nobody going to give you a dime for a print of Covid mask on the ground to put it on their wall. On other hand you will have no problem selling "sausage machine" beautiful landscape picture you took in your local state or national park.
Hi David and Sam, I agree that enjoyment in the process is most important, and that would be a good subject for another article.
I hoped someone would pick me up on my use of the word extraordinary. I meant the literal meaning of the word, with the "extra" part synonymous with outside, so outside the ordinary. Not better nor worse, just different from the ordinary sausages.
By far greater value, I was not referring to monetary value, and not to mass appeal.
For example, Ikea sell hundreds of thousands of photographic prints that adorn the walls of people's houses. Commercially, they have, in total, great value.
However, if a customer of Ikea gets invited to a house party, there is a good chance that they will see the same prints on the wall as they have in their own house. Similarly, if they buy a print of a long exposure photo of a pier jutting into the water, then they are likely to see another print by a different photographer of the same subject. If, however, the print is unique, then that uniqueness adds interest, that may even challenge the mind of the viewer in ways that generic photos don't. That's the value I was referring to.
I agree with you Sam that selling the sausage machine photos of beautiful landscapes to the masses is easier, but maybe not so to a collector.
Thanks for the great comments.
I'm an amateur, so perhaps I have an advantage of not having to always produce sausage machine photos. The b&w shot was taken in NYC two years ago on a project I called, "Silver Streets". (Silver referred to silver bromide in b&w film photography.) It was one of two "echo" images from that project. Ivor, in your shot for "Hiding the Main Subject", I saw the subject immediately; you'll know what I mean as the color shot from me was taken in July of this year.
I'm interested in not being boring. Sometimes I've gotten lucky.
Graham, thanks for replying. This was very much an article aimed at amateur photographers who shoot for the joy of photography, and I do differentiate between that and professionals. I accept your comment that you saw the main subject immediately, but I know from previous sharing of this image that not everyone doe; we all see photos differently. It was just to illustrate the point that the main subject does not have to be the most obvious one, and can even be hidden. The slow reveal is a technique that has been used in art for a long time. Take, for example "The Sermon on the Mount" by Claude Lorraine, c 1656.
John, thanks for your opinion. Happily for me, there seem to be a lot of people disagreeing with you in their comments that this article is garbage. But, that's exactly what I am encouraging, having a different way of seeing the world from others. Nevertheless, if you read it more carefully, you are agreeing with me. I do say "There is nothing wrong with trying to achieve perfection in our images. It means that with each shot, we have studied our art, learned from our mistakes, and honed our techniques", which is, I think, the point you are trying to make.
One of the problems is the obsession from a lot of people online on the quality of lenses. It’s obsessing over how sharp lenses are and the quality of the bokeh. Also the obsession for some with shooting wide open or close to wide open with very shallow dof is also very tedious. People judge and criticise lenses purely based on how well they perform wide open too. I own a Voigtlander 40mm f1.2 E mount and have seen comments from people dismissing it outright just because it’s soft wide open. People need to stop obsessing over the technical details of lenses so much and just get out there and shoot photos. Not all photography needs technically perfect lenses which do lead to clinically boring photos quite often.
Very true, Sam. Thanks for that.
--- "Do you shoot images that break free from the clichés?"
Yes, family/friends get togethers and roadtrip/travel touristy photos. Basically stuff just for memory and not for potential payment or collaborations.
--- "do you disagree with my premise that we should shun the expectations of the photographic establishment?"
Yes and no.
Yes, I disagree. No one is going to pay or collaborate for snapshot looking images.
No, I don't disagree if you are happy with your results. If it's good enough for you, that's all that matters.
Absolutely right. There are lots of different purposes for photographs, each as valid as the next. (Personally, I like to see snapshot looking images that document real life. ) Thanks for the super reply!
There are plenty technically perfect, boring photos. I rather see something interesting
It used to be when you mentioned the word "art", non-artists associated the word with beauty and grace. The works of artists and sculptors like Raphael, Titan, Donatello came to mind. Now days the word "art" covers a multitude of sins in addition to the more standard association with beauty. Our current perspective on art allows us the luxury to forego the need for skill and vision. In other words, it's a free-for-all definition and yes, you too can immediately be an artist. Just do something, anything and call it art.
I'm for having a vision and purpose and then possessing the skill to capture it rather than randomly capturing something and then trying to create a purpose for it as "art". Maybe there are sausage makers on both sides!
Art can be defined as beauty, and my previous article talked about why that is something we should strive for. The Oxford English Dictionary also includes in its definition the words "emotional power", and maybe that is what I see as missing, or diluted down, in sausage machine photos. Thanks for the comment.
I found this article hit close to home with the continuing evolution of my purpose in photography. After many, many decades of striving for the "technically correct" images [focus, exposure, composition, etc.], I now find myself more interested in what and why I decide to create an image rather than how to do it. The change of approach [for me] has been extremely exciting, invigorating, challenging, and enjoyable. My approach these days involves the pursuit of "creating unique images of ordinary things as opposed to ordinary images of unique things". I continuously find myself reverting back to Ansel Adams's response when asked what was the most critical component of his photographic process, the film, exposure, lens, post processing? His answer was "the 12 inches behind the viewfinder"!
While technology has done so much to simplify and help cameras address all the various technical aspects involved with capturing images [which is really what the vast majority of people are looking for], it leaves something to be desired in helping the photographer who wants to "see more creatively"; something more is required.
While pursuing creative/contemplative photography over the last several years, I found aspects of Zen Buddhism [no you do NOT have to become a Buddhist] held answers for me. I needed to put myself in a different frame of mind - more aware, less judgmental, and open to "beginner's mind" [observing things without the unconscious bias's we all amass over time], i.e. become more "Mindful". It is amazing the world that has been opened to me not only as a photographer, but to life in general.
For me the enhancements are coming from "seeing" better!
Note: these opinions are mine and may not be of use to others - I ask only that you consider giving them some objective consideration as you continue your photographic journey.
That's an interesting and insightful addition to the conversation, Vince. Thank you. I am a great believer in mindful photography too. I know lots of photographers who switch off from the outside world and go "into the zone" while shooting, or what I think chess players call flow, me included. When that happens, all thought is on the composition, and I'm not paying too much attention to the camera's settings. That's why I am in the habit of setting the camera up before the shoot.
As a total amateur, I appreciated this article. Nature is filled with beauty, and it's nice to record it- but I think of those as "cheap shots". And I'll never have the gear that can freeze a bird in flight where you can count each feather, or see every snowflake.
For me, it's more about noticing the world around me, keeping my eyes open. Getting the shot is nice, of course.
Here's one that I like- you might have to look twice at it. Not any kind of award-winning shot, but a bit interesting.
You are right, it is an interesting shot and out of the ordinary, so it ticks the boxes for me. Thank you for replying. I enjoyed the comment.
Interesting take. However imo It took me too long to shoot pro looking images to go back to shooting like an amateur to explain to someone it was intentional. I like polished looking photos and my product photography clients do too.
Thanks for taking the time to comment, Vito. I'm not advocating shooting like an amateur, but being original and not producing images that are similar in most respects to all the others out there.
Many of the greatest and most famous photos of all time are technically imperfect. e.g.
Marilyn Monroe in Chicago, Illinois. 1955 - Eve Arnold, or Henri Cartier-Bresson's Gare Saint Lazare, Place de l'Europe. Paris, France. 1932. Some of David Bailey's great shots of Jean Shrimpton in New York are astounding, but don't fit with the ideals of populist perfection that is so common today. What they all ave is uniqueness.
...
Except for paid work I don't even think about it beyond the goal only being making photos that i like. Anything else is just a waste of time.
That's all that really matters. If someone else likes it too, then it's a bonus! Thanks for commenting.
Lovely article, I agree with a lot of the sentiments expressed. Perfection of technique is always an admirable goal in any craft but ultimately it's the icing on the cake, it's not the cake itself. And I prefer photos (or cinema) that feel like they were made by talented but flawed human beings rather than by soulless computers. Maybe it's related to the notion of wabi-sabi, I don't know. Do something long enough, if you even have just a modicum of talent, and you reach a level of craftsmanship that is above-average and then you find yourself asking "what's next?"
Thanks, David, for that kind comment about my article. I agree with everything you have written there. I am a fan of the concept of wabi sabi too.
I know this article doesn't bash people who are striving for technically excellent photos, but it feels like some people in the comments are. There's nothing wrong with "breaking the rules" to come up with something unique, but I have met some photographers who deride the technically excellent seemingly out of their own inability to create a technically excellent photo. I have seen this in other arts too. I've taught classical fencing for 16 years and a lot of fencers forego learning the basics because they want to have a "style." Their "style" is almost inevitably just sloppy. My club's best fencers learn the art first and then they learn how to be original, stylistic, and when it's appropriate (even desirable) to break the rules. I think that goes a bit with the author's point here; there's nothing wrong with achieving what excellence you can and then trying to change it up. Lately my focus has really been on creating concepts that I enjoy and trying to execute them as best I can. I understand they may seem derivative, but as the author points out, millions of photographs are created every day and nothing will be completely original. I try to shoot until I'm pleased with the shot BOTH from a technical perspective AND from an emotional perspective.
Yes, you right about everything you say there, Emily.
Shooting until you are pleased with the results is what is most important, but I have to say you have some splendid photos in your portfolio, so the photos that please you work for me too.
Thanks for the great comment
Photography for many of us is an art form, so the finished picture may be appreciated by different people in different ways. Of course there are technical issues involved in judging a photograph, but there is more than just that one aspect of photography… and that is what the author of this article is saying. Technical quality without an element of distinction is simply another ordinary picture, and the world is inundated with them every day. For those who appreciate Ansel Adams’ quotes, here’s one of his that may be relevant to the discussion: “There is nothing worse than a sharp image of a fuzzy concept.”
The fundamental questions in my mind for evaluating a photograph are: first, whether the image holds my attention long enough to explore its nooks and crannies, and second, whether I can determine if the image was made purposely by design and with intent, or just a sloppy picture executed without thought.
The cat picture at the beginning of this thread is a case in point. If one enjoys making ordinary pictures of cats, that’s fine. We each click the shutter for different reasons and I’m not here to tell someone else what they should photograph. I would not criticize the photographer’s goal of mastering focus and depth of field. But as a detached viewer, I would not give the cat picture a second look. I don’t even care much if you call it good or bad, or by what standards you use. Besides, to what standards are we evaluating technical qualities? The color balance in the cat picture is tilted overall toward yellow but for the sake of technical perfection, shouldn’t the cat’s fur be white? If it looks white, look again. Does that make the picture bad, or is the color balance shifted intentionally by the photographer?
On the other hand, the black and white image by Justin Sharp (the one which caught the ire of the cat photographer) gets my attention. It’s not a sharp image with clearly defined elements. In one person’s words, it’s a bit of a mess. But it takes me somewhere, and I think that’s a good thing in all forms of art or literature. It brings me back in time. I’m curious about the elements in that picture. It’s like a dream; my imagination wants to find a story in that picture. Is that a person with an Asian conical hat? Another smaller person or two? I enjoy the element of mystery. My point is that there are far more questions than answers in evaluating an image, so be careful of drawing narrowly defined conclusions about good and bad.
Excellent points, thanks Ed.
I don't disagree with any of the points you've made. My main gripe is the exclusionary nature of the trend of what is chosen as winners and what is considered the best photos. If you look at my portfolio here on fstoppers, I strive for accurate color reproduction of what I see out in the world because I love light and color so much. If you compare mine -or simply how the world really looks like - and then compare it to winners here on fstoppers or just about any photos competition, you'll see that the world does not look like that. Your great photo cannot be considered wonderful or will be criticized ("needs work") because the style has not been enhanced to look like today's trends of unreal colors that simply don't exist in the real world.
(Though I'm not quite sure why I'm trying to convince you of my argument. haha)
Hello Charles… I suspect you are trying to convince yourself, not me. And that’s perfectly reasonable. Most humans appreciate affirmation of who they are as a person. Alas, it’s hard to come by in the art world. First of all, we’re up against a lot of competition. If you think winning a photo competition is tough, try making a living selling fine art prints. I personally have no hesitation reaching out to interior designers and art consultants, most of whom recognize the quality and diversity of my work… and then proceed to file my contact information away with hundreds, if not thousands, of other equally capable artists. The sheer volume of photography created in the digital age is staggering. Winning a large photo competition might be compared to a standout high school athlete making it as a player in the NFL. It only happens in the rarest of occasions, and if you don’t, it’s not necessarily a sign that there’s something inherently wrong with your work.
How would you describe a “great” photo? If you claim it must be constrained by what looks natural, and the competition judge says that color must knock him off his feet, isn’t that a little like having a preference for spicy food vs mild food? Or any number of subjective issues that you could think of? So while searching for affirmation is entirely natural, I think you’re looking in the wrong places. At some point you must take responsibility for defining your own values with your art. And while not necessarily surrounding yourself with friends, family, and only those who lavish unfettered praise on your pictures, you might search out people who share similar values, or who can at least understand you for who you are, and encourage you on that level. And then forget the rest.
Most photographers are familiar with Ansel Adams and the plethora of one-liners he said about his craft. I’d encourage you to pick up a few books about Edward Weston and read what he had to say about his challenges of making photographs, and struggles with acceptance. “Edward Weston On Photography” from 1983 is my favorite. He supposedly died with about $300 in his bank account, although his prints today are worth tens of thousands of dollars. He, too, railed on the competitions of his time, especially after the art salons rejected his prints: “The only thing critics do is psychoanalyze themselves,” said Weston. And that is as typical of competition judges of our time as it has ever been before. Even on a local camera club level, notice how competition judges, if asked to comment, typically try to remake a picture in light of how they would do it. Crop this, clone that, move to a different shooting position, try different lighting… the list is exhausting. Okay, I understand that they might be simply trying to help amateurs make a better picture, and there’s a place for that. But it’s also a dangerous path to follow for too long when their values and yours clash. At that point, one might adopt another of Weston’s gems… I don’t recall the exact words but it was something like: “Competitions are for horses, not artists.”
Thank you, Charles and Ed.
As I mentioned in a previous comment, I never agree to judge photographic competitions, because I don't want photographers trying to please my tastes, no anyone else's.
I'm most surprised, though I suppose I shouldn't be, to learn some photographers try to make the illogical and absurd argument that a great photo can't be taken on a crop sensor camera.
I think the best way to approach photography, even a paid assignment, is to shoot for yourself. I couldn't care less what another photographer thinks of my work as long as I like it and am satisfied. It doesn't make it any less challenging if you're your own honest and toughest critic.
Absolutely, Dave. But as someone who makes money from shooting images for other people, I do try to be mindful of their expectations. But, I think that's why I enjoy photographing for myself more.
Great article, Ivor. And I see the many comments show appreciation for this type of content. Many thanks for that.
Thank you Jan, very much appreciated. I am glad it's had a good response in readership, as quite a lot of time and work goes into researching and writing articles, as well as replying to the comments. However, I believe it's the video reposts that usually gain the highest readership and what most people want to read. I don't enjoy producing those so much though.
The result is worth the effort, I would say. I am not sure about the video contributions. They often remain uncommented and are unfortunately too often of rather mediocre quality. Your articles do reach real photographers, while many videos are aimed at a beginner audience. Besides, many prefer to read articles rather than watch videos. Videos are also available in masses elsewhere.
Thank you Ivor for an excellent, well-balanced article, it is truly refreshing to read… a world full of seemingly inescapable ‘sausage machine’ photos is disappointing and dull, of course, they have their place but it’s always great to see and applaud those photographers who are prepared to break the rules and apply real creativity and imagination to create something unique and different…
There is a term in The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, Vemödalen, which sums this up perfectly
Vemödalen
n. the frustration of photographing something amazing when thousands of identical photos already exist—the same sunset, the same waterfall, the same curve of a hip, the same closeup of an eye—which can turn a unique subject into something hollow and pulpy and cheap, like a mass-produced piece of furniture you happen to have assembled yourself.
That's excellent and sums it up precisely. Thanks so much for the comment, I've learned something today!
John... Have you not worn yourself out repeating the same comments over, and over, and over again? Okay, we get your point.
And not that it probably matters to you because I suspect speaking bluntly and trashing one another is commonplace in your world, but have you no respect for civility? Could you not try choosing words to convey your message without a barrage of insults? As Ivor said, there is a lot of time that's required of producing an article. I wish you would at least respect the effort the author has made to make this forum possible, and refrain from using words like disastrous, terrible, garbage, absurd, fantasy, nonsense, and stupid. It's really that awful? An article which has generated nearly a hundred comments is that bad? That's a rhetorical question... no need to answer – I know what it would be. Besides, I feel like you're missing the point of his article anyway.
You stated in one of your earlier comments that “it’s only about personal attacks at this point… and I don’t got time for that crap.” Don’t got time? Obviously you do got time, because you keep beating a dead horse. You began railing against this article at the very beginning of the comments section, continued on a day or two later, and you're still calling the article a disaster nearly a week later. Excuse me, but the Titanic was a disaster... this is merely a discussion.
If you are half as intelligent as you think you are, please express your thoughts in a more civilized manner which reflects that opinion of yourself. Photography is an art form, and those who practice it, regardless of whether you approve of their work, deserve to be treated with respect and dignity.
Before you make such condescending comments about an author, which, as always, say more about the writer than he probably would like, you should take a look at his other articles available on FS. They will prove you wrong. Apart from that, I would work on my manners if I were you.