Limits and Creativity
I want to tell you a story about two photographers.
For a while now, I’ve been wanting to get more into photography, hoping eventually to buy a nice digital SLR camera. So I was quite thrilled when a photojournalist friend offered to give me some of her old film equipment to learn on. The camera, a Nikon FM2, is a fully manual model first introduced almost 30 years ago. It only uses a battery to run the light meter, and the battery on the one she gave me is burnt out — and I’ve been forbidden to replace it.
Her thinking is this: if I’m serious about learning how a camera works, I need to hone my skills and instincts so I get a feel for how to put together a good image. A more modern camera (like the later-model auto-focus Nikon she also doesn’t use anymore) wouldn’t teach me that; instead, it would teach me how to use the camera’s bells and whistles.
I have another friend who is also a photographer, and I was excited to share with her the news of my new setup. She was more or less unimpressed until I told her what kind of camera it was, then she lit up. “Oh, that’s good — you’ll learn a lot from that!” Then we got to discussing her preference for Nikon cameras, and among other things she said she liked the black-and-white mode in Nikon’s best.
“Really?” I asked. “Wouldn’t it be better to convert to black-and-white in Photoshop, where you have far more control over the process?”
I might have been asking the Pope about his sex life — the response was rather chilly. Photoshop, to her, was a substitute for skill. Learning to make the best use of what you have in your hands, that’s photography for her, not applying the near-limitless potential of an image program.
Both of these photographers were telling me something interesting about not just photography but about… well, about life. They were telling me to stop resisting limits and embrace them as part of the process of creativity. Yes, the Nikon FM2 is a pretty limited camera — that’s what makes it a great learning tool (and, for that matter, it’s what makes it a model that’s remained popular over 3 decades of photographic advance, one that’s still found in many a pro’s toolkit). Yes, in-camera black-and-white is far more limiting than the vast possibilities unleashed by Photoshop — that’s what makes it an art. To embrace those limits and make something beautiful is to accomplish something extraordinary.
I can’t help but think of those legendary million monkeys pounding away at a million typewriters. In all that flow of randomness, eventually a string of characters will emerge that tells the story of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark and his stunning descent into madness and eventually death. But it’s the labor of one man, William Shakespeare (or another man posing as Mr. S), scratching away with his goose-feather quill by the dim light of a beeswax candle, groping for the perfect words in the near-dark, that stuns us — one man working with all the limitations of his life and times, all the limitations of the medium and of his mind. That is what elevates a play like Hamlet to the level of art.
Aside from a lack of resources — who, after all, has a million monkey laying around and that kind of time to wait? — there are good reasons to oppose unboundedness, to reject a lack of limits. Creativity doesn’t stem from limitlessness. Over and over again, creative people not only challenge limits but seek them out — artists choose a limited palette to paint an image with, musicians strip a complicated arrangement down to voice and acoustic guitar, writers cut and cut and cut again to reach a thousand-word length, and my photographer friend willingly embraces the quirks of her camera’s black-and-white mode over the power of Photoshop.
That’s the gift my photojournalist friend gave me: limits. She knew that for under $500 I could pick up a decent used digital SLR setup. But on a digital camera, it would be easy to just learn how to harness the power of the camera — to let it do my focusing, metering, white balancing, and everything else for me. I might learn good composition, but I wouldn’t learn photography.
The education of an artist or craftsperson consists mainly in learning about limits; I would argue that their creative spark comes from embracing those limits. That’s good advice for the rest of us, who spend quite a bit of time bemoaning the limitations forced on us by our circumstances without even trying to understand them. My advice — or rather, my friends’ advice — is this: understand your limits, embrace them, and use them.
It’s what they’re there for.
WRITER'S BIOGRAPHY

Dustin Wax
Dustin M. Wax is a freelance writer and project manager at Stepcase Lifehack. He can be reached though his freelancing site at DustinWax.comDon't Be Stupid: A Guide to Learning, Studying, and Succeeding at College.
Follow him on Twitter: @dwax.


Comments
Beth Robinson says on March 25th, 2009 at 10:31 am
Neat stories to discuss in relation to limitations. I do agree with their value, but I disagree that in this specific case you’ll get the most value from the older camera – because one of the limitations it comes with is that it limits quantity.
When creating collages I would find myself reluctant to use that pretty paper because I only had a little bit of it. I wouldn’t really push myself, but play it safe. My results wouldn’t be as creative as when I bought a big sheet and gleefully used it in different compositions and was willing to layer over it.
I expect I would find my mind falling into the same traps when it came to the cost of film and developing film. Digital cameras allow repetition, daring, and experimentation without that mental roadblock.
So I guess that for you it’s a matter of balancing the reluctance to use scarce materials (or perhaps they are not scarce for you or you don’t have that reluctance) with the temptation to turn on the automatic portion of a DSLR.
Shanel Yang says on March 25th, 2009 at 10:59 am
Great post, Dustin! It reminds me of how surprised I was to learn that van Gogh delayed switching from pencil and ink drawings to paintings because he was awed and perhaps overwhelmed by the immense possibilities of color and textures. Well, he certainly was in love with them! : )
Prabhpreet Dua says on March 25th, 2009 at 11:30 am
If you apply that logic to underdeveloped countries, the countries would not need funding for anything- they just would have to come up with a creative system of enforcing law so they could be developed. I like this kind of theory a lot- most people who are famous like Steve Jobs came from limited environments and the only thing to drive them was their creativity. Nice post!
Ryan Dlugosz says on March 25th, 2009 at 4:28 pm
Thought-provoking post and a great message to share… Rome wasn’t built in a day, and likewise no one can learn all of the aspects of photography at once. Establishing those limits and working within them will help you to hone the most fundamental of photography skills — without a strong foundation here any knowledge of the “other stuff” will be wasted.
Photography is a broad field, and it’s important to keep that in mind as you work with mentors. Your photojournalist friend would almost certainly (by code of ethics) not want to manipulate an image. However, in other photography disciplines, such as art or landscape, this is much more acceptable.
Take Ansel Adams for instance. He had technical mastery not just behind the lens but also in the darkroom – artful dodging and burning (lightening and darkening) of the image and other techniques contribute to his masterpieces & led to the saying “prints are made in the darkroom”.
As you progress through your photography journey you’ll want to explore some of these techniques for yourself. What works for a photojournalist is not necessarily what will be most interesting to you.
One thing is for certain – the idea of developing the photographic fundamentals first is great advice! The concept of setting limits is very powerful, but (as beth mentioned above) so is the immediate feedback you receive in the field with digital. Just some counterpoint to keep in mind – you can always operate a digital SLR in fully manual mode.
Have fun! -Ryan
kyle5434 says on March 25th, 2009 at 5:35 pm
I learned on a similar “workhorse” camera – a Pentax K1000 (which is also viewed as a classic “student camera”). I think there are good things that can be learned via shooting with a no-frills film camera. Though I will say that one of valuable components of shooting with black and white film is also learning the process of developing film and making prints. Having that whole background of the analogue process gives an advantage in the understanding of (and appreciation for) the digital process.
I would suggest that getting a used DSLR, and restricting yourself to manual mode, would accomplish much of the same thing in terms of learning basic photography skills. So after you’ve putzed around with the FM2 for a while, you could also start doing the manual DSLR thing in parallel. That would allow more expansive practice and experimentation, as Beth mentioned.
Also, check out Bryan Peterson’s “Understanding Exposure” from Amazon or your local library (and also his “Learning to See Creatively”).
Have fun!
Ryan Dlugosz says on March 25th, 2009 at 6:14 pm
Thought-provoking post and a great message to share… Rome wasn’t built in a
day, and likewise no one can learn all of the aspects of photography at once.
Establishing those limits and working within them will help you to hone the
most fundamental of photography skills — without a strong foundation here any
knowledge of the “other stuff” will be wasted.
Photography is a broad field, and it’s important to keep that in mind as you
work with mentors. Your photojournalist friend would almost certainly (by
code of ethics) not want to manipulate an image. However, in other
photography disciplines, such as art or landscape, this is much more
acceptable.
Take Ansel Adams for instance. He had technical mastery not just behind the
lens but also in the darkroom – artful dodging and burning (lightening and
darkening) of the image and other techniques contribute to his masterpieces &
led to the saying “prints are made in the darkroom”.
As you progress through your photography journey you’ll want to explore some
of these techniques for yourself. What works for a photojournalist is not
necessarily what will be most interesting to you.
One thing is for certain – the idea of developing the photographic
fundamentals first is great advice! The concept of setting limits is very
powerful, but (as beth mentioned above) so is the immediate feedback you
receive in the field with digital. Just some counterpoint to keep in mind -
you can always operate a digital SLR in fully manual mode.
Have fun! -Ryan
Dustin Wax says on March 25th, 2009 at 6:45 pm
Ryan: I’m actually coming to photography from the other end, as someone who has years of Photoshop experience. So for me the idea that images can be manipulated comes quite naturally — as does a certain sloppiness about images, since I know I can burn and dodge, or fake things like depth of field, to heart’s content later on. Which is why, I think, my friend is taking a hardline stance with me — imposing limits that will force me to change my relationship with the medium. Fair enough, but I’m not going to feel too bad if a battery should *accidentally* removes the auto-winder, open up the battery cover, and “fall into” the battery compartment so I can use the light meter. After she stops checking, that is…
Warren says on March 25th, 2009 at 6:52 pm
This post’s application of the “limits” concept to the technical aspects of being creative attempts to romanticise one way of working.
If your stated intent is to learn more about photography, what you are concentrating on is the technical operation of that camera. As another poster has pointed out, the rapid and cheap feedback that digital provides is likely to improve – arguably – more important aspects of photography. Things like composition, the technical process of taking a photo. Getting your photo as feedback hours/days later does not allow on the spot learning and experimentation. And experimentation is surely as important to the creative process as working within defined limits.
How much effort, time and money (life) are you willing to spend to learn how your camera works, so that you can take creative photos?
The reaction of your photographic friends to digital SLRs and photoshop just sounds like technical snobbery. This appears to be a common prejudice around the world – if a computer was involved, it ceases to be art. You also talk about process vs product – what is art?
Is art decided by the viewer who appreciates the end product, or is the product almost irrelevant with the process more important? Is my toilet a work of art because I held certain ideals in mind while I used it? Is my happy snap not art because it was an impulse shot taken with digital equipment that turned out to be intriguing and beautiful?
I would argue that the education of the artist or craftsman never ends as they refine their process and learn about tool improvements.
For me “limits” just equals the canvas and tools that you choose (or are available). Is your creative process half full or half empty?
Have fun learning how your camera works :)
Rob Gordon says on March 25th, 2009 at 6:54 pm
Good read- an observation that has been made before though – that true creativity thrives with limits and in fact, almost needs limits. I’ve heard the example of the gothic cathedrals – build with all the engineering and social limitations of the middle ages, and also the example of American prisoners of war in World War II – who build fully functional radios out of almost nothing.
brit says on March 25th, 2009 at 9:13 pm
Good post with some valid points: it is always good to master the rudimentary before progressing to the finish, afterall what’s the point of icing the cake if you don’t know how to bake.
As with most tenants, they can be applied to many other facets of life, I think the post about applying it to underdeveloped countries was a little naive, however it can be applied to several start=up ideas. Focus on the core, then expand,don’t go for the bells and whistles straight away.
Good post, keep them coming!
Diana says on March 25th, 2009 at 11:44 pm
Wow. Glad to hear someone is still willing to learn photography from the ground up. There is no better way. My art degree (and photo training) is all pre-computer. Later, I spent my career in commercial art and design using Photoshop, DSLRs, etc.
The discipline, patience, careful thought and experimentation that take place when approaching your craft with the fewest shortcuts in an education in itself. You must think carefully and anticipate the results of your actions.
I envy you the day that you watch that one perfect photo develop and realize “I did that” and you get it. Black and white and every shade in between, and no Photoshop necessary, yes!
Bamboo says on March 26th, 2009 at 2:06 am
pretty good points. I am into photography myself.
Ulf Käck says on March 26th, 2009 at 4:50 am
What is a photographer? Someone who knows what all the fiddly bits on the camera does? Or someone who looks through the camera and actually makes pictures?
I think you need a love for the latter, and then you can use any camera that comes your way to make great pictures.
All cameras have an “auto” program. Use that to take pictures. And if you have the extra time, learn about cameras, it will pay off in the end. But remember – the camera is just a tool to get to the picture. Don’t let it get in your way just because someone says you should.
JIM G says on March 26th, 2009 at 8:58 am
As a pro photographer for 14 years this is the one piece of advice i am always giving. I’m glad to see that someone else sees the benefits of ignoring technological bells and whistles, till at least you have an understanding of the fundamentals. Of course as others have pointed out you don,t need to do this to take great pictures but the best camera in the world wont get you anywhere without passion and a creative eye, and no camera how ever cheap can get you that.
sd says on March 26th, 2009 at 9:51 am
@Warren: “The reaction of your photographic friends to digital SLRs and photoshop just sounds like technical snobbery. This appears to be a common prejudice around the world – if a computer was involved, it ceases to be art.”
I think that comment is a bit unfair. Having come to digital photography from film (an Olympus OM-1 in my case), I can see what Dustin’s friends are getting at. They almost certainly would have had the same negative view of the fully-automatic-with-flash film cameras my crowd called “wunderbricks”.
Learning to photograph on a manual camera versus a wunderbrick is like learning to drive on an old Honda or VW rather than on a Cadillac or Benz with all kinds of systems which compensate for a driver’s shortcomings. Learning to evaluate the effects of light, depth of field, etc. teaches you photography as a physical/chemical process. Hitting the “P” button and keeping batteries in your pocket does not. Learning to control a skidding car by steering and throttle teaches you more about the physical aspect of controlling a vehicle than hoping the ABS, ESP, and brake assist can do the job because you never learned to.
Laura says on March 26th, 2009 at 11:15 am
Quite an insightful, provocative post. You may have taken the path less travelled on this one, and for that, I commend you, but I have to disagree with your point. One of my favorite quotes is from a book called “The Long Tail” by Chris Anderson. He says, “It is when the tools of production are transparent, that we are inspired to create.” I can see how limits would inspire artists to be even better, to show the world and themselves that they can overcome boundaries and produce beautiful works of art despite their limitations. However, I have to favor the other side, that limits teach you nothing about the art itself. Having resources available to create what we want, being empowered with everything we need, that is what inspires me, and many others I would presume.
Now, if a photographer were to tell me (as one has before) that a black and white photo is of higher quality than a photo taken in color and Photoshopped to black and white, then I could appreciate the need to take photographs in black and white (and I wouldn’t argue, because I am no expert in the area). And certainly, I would agree that it takes more photography skill to capture the perfect shot without having to fix it later on.
However, I don’t see the evil in using all resources available. I like Warren’s post above, saying that your friends’ opinions were a bit of “technical snobbery”. Truly, if an artist was able to compensate for his or her lack of photography skills with proficient Photoshop skills, is that person less of an artist? Is the product of less value? Take a peek at DigitalBlasphemy.com if you haven’t visited the site before; most of my backgrounds are from that site, and I am regularly asked where that “picture” was taken. When I tell the viewers that this is not a photograph at all, but a digital picture, they are surprised, if not struck with complete disbelief. Is the creator of such awe-inspiring works less of an artist than a photographer?
By the way, I’m not picking on photography. In general, I don’t believe limits are the beginning of creativity. I don’t write with pen and paper. I don’t even write in the blocks I am given when submitting works online. I write in Microsoft Word (yes, I said it) because Word enables me to check my spelling and grammar without much thought on my part. I am generally a good speller and a grammar Nazi, but sometimes when I am working through my thoughts, I don’t write it exactly how I would want it. I even utilize the built-in thesaurus from time to time when I am looking for just the right word. Am I a bad writer for not writing it out on paper, or using a clunky typewriter?
What’s more, I think people are inspired to create when the resources are made available to them. I teach advanced Microsoft Excel classes from time to time, and I get people in my classroom that rarely use Excel because they don’t recognize what it can do for them. When I show them various features of Excel, they immediately start thinking of ways to make their lives easier, now that they know how to utilize of few of those functions. If I teach the same class to them in a year, they will get even more out of my class, because they have applied some of their learned knowledge, and can now step it up a notch. I don’t impose limits on them and tell them they can only use certain functions, I give them a tool box and they choose what they want each time.
One of my philosophies about technology and computers is based on the fact that computers were made to be programmed. If you consider the first computers, you know that they were not made to exchange e-mails, play games on or even to do research on various topics. They were made to perform calculations and run programs that would find solutions faster than we could by hand. With that in mind, I encourage my Excel students to try writing a macro. They don’t need to know much programming to begin; they can simply record a macro, and then modify that macro with some simple tricks. I give them about five lines of code that they can use, and they turn around and automate something that they do manually on a daily basis. That ability to record macros, rather than write them from scratch, is an additional resource, it’s the battery on your camera, perhaps, but it enables them to start creating where they otherwise would not even start at all. Down the road, then, as they begin to understand macros a bit better, they may choose to take a programming class, to take it up to the next level. Or, as many of us do, they just experiment and look up ideas on the Internet until their understanding of programming is far greater than a student in a beginner programming class.
Again, great post, but I would argue that people who refuse to use resources available to them do so out of pride, not because the resources are inherently detrimental to their craft and the learning of it.
Jamie Isfeld says on March 26th, 2009 at 2:50 pm
I completely disagree with these photographers. A true artisan uses every tool available to them to refine their product to the best possible outcome – how they arrive at that outcome can and should come from a variety of stages, from preproduction to postproduction.
They sound like utter snobs, scared of the fact that technology has made all the skills they had to spend years refining with bad technology almost moot or unnecessary with good technology.
It’s a nice idea, but the photography example is one of the worst ones that could be picked out to get it across. The aforementioned PoW radios out of almost nothing is much, much better.
Jacqui Graham says on March 28th, 2009 at 8:16 am
Limits can be good, but they can also be…what is the word I am looking for? Oh yes. Limiting.
When I was a kid, my parents gave me a Brownie box camera. No flash, no fancy features. You held it at waist level, looked down into the viewfinder, pushed hard on the button – and every single picture came out crooked.
In my teens I owned a SLR camera, and managed (purely by accident) to capture a few interesting images. But by the time the prints came back from the processors, they did not seem to have any connection with me and my camera, and were usually a huge disappointment.
Then I married a “real” photographer, with a “real” camera with lenses and filters and and even a case, and for the next 30 years he took all the pictures.
Three years ago I was visiting my daughter’s sun-drenched apartment, and the light falling through the blinds onto a vase of flowers struck me as the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I grabbed her digital camera, and became a photographer.
I love taking photos in natural light, but most digital cameras automatically compensate so the image is brighter than it should be. Reacting to my frustration, my husband bought me a Canon PowerShot SX100, with all sorts of manual settings like “TV” and “AV” and “PORTRAIT” and “MACRO”, and I have no idea what they do, and I am having a great time messing around.
Every so often he tries to explain how the camera works. I humour the man, nodding sagely as if I understand his strange words: aperture… exposure… speed…. zoom ratio… then I go back to messing around.
Ah, the wonders of iPhoto and PhotoShop! Aside from a bit of judicious cropping (an red-eye reduction, so my grandkids don’t look like the spawn of Satan) I try to leave the photos the way they came out of the camera. But if others enjoy messing around with these programs, more power to them.
The other day I was driving down a rural road, the minivan windows rolled down in -25 weather, steering wheel in one hand and camera in the other, trying to capture the image of crisp black fenceposts marching across the snowy fields. Then, just for the heck of it, I shot a bunch of pictures of approaching vehicles through my windshield. Most of them came out blurry or uninteresting, but a few were sublime.
I like to think this is how Shakespeare came up with “Hamlet”…just messing around in the dark with his goose quill pen, no idea of what he was doing, and getting lucky.
the foreigner says on March 28th, 2009 at 5:05 pm
Dustin, this is the one of the best blog posts I’ve read in quite a while. It’s unique, it’s genuine and it’s inspiring.
Keep on writing!
Dustin Wax says on March 28th, 2009 at 9:32 pm
All: A lot of you have responded to the photography stuff, which wasn’t the point but let me address some of that in one fell swoop. First, I already know how to take pretty good pictures — I have some visual arts training and have enjoyed point-and-shoot photography (which is what I’ve done even when I’ve owned SLRs, since I had no idea what all the bits of the complex cameras did) for years. The point here is that I want to learn to understand what I’m doing — how aperture affects depth of field, how focal length affects exposure, etc. If the camera’s making those decisions for me, I give up control in exchange for the illusion of limitlessness (when in reality I’m limited by the camera’s programmers and manufacturers and my own ignorance). I *could* learn that from any camera, sure, but the camera I have means I *have* to learn it.
Laura: Two points I want to address. First, re: writing, I’m not advocating an anti-technology stance here — I write a website that is primarily about tech tools for writing, after all. Use Word, by all means. But recognize you’re incredibly limited by the language you’re using, the idioms of expression your audience would comprehend, and the format of whatever you’re writing. I know for me, my best writing comes when I’m most limited in terms of word count and expected audience.
Second, nothing I say here works against Chris Anderson’s notion of transparency. What makes our tools transparent? Is it the designer’s intention? I doubt it – designers create for imagined audiences whose approach to a tool may be thousands ofmiles from anything the designer could have predicted. Instead, I would say it’s the point Malcolm Gladwell makes in _Outliers_ — tons and tons of experience. The best camera in the world has never made a single decent photographer; the best photographers in the world have taken great pictures with the crappiest cameras. My friend who gave me the camera didn’t say “use this for the rest of your life” (she obviously doesn’t, or she wouldn’t have given it to me) — what she said in effect was “use this while you learn to use the limits of the device; when it becomes transparent, you’ll do well with whatever fancy digital thing you hang around your neck.”
Jackie says on April 1st, 2009 at 12:30 am
I agree with Jamie Isfeld..artistic snobbery is the key here. To those who smirk about artists who use Photoshop to create art I say this: remember those longs hours spent in the dark room dodging and burning, using different chemical ratios when developing, buying expensive papers, the smell, the time, the expense!! Isn’t this what Photoshop does, only much faster and with less pollution. Isn’t it the end result which counts? Only a snob would think less of a fellow artist just because she or he used auto instead of manual focus. Get real. It’s just plain snobbery to suggest that modern technology somehow diminishes artistic endeavour, and that anyone who uses it isn’t a “real” artist. Give me a break.