It’s all been done before.
Find a picturesque spot like the windmill at Cley-Next-The-Sea and you can guarantee this view has been painted and photographed many, many times beforehand.
So all I am adding here is a personally time-stamped view of this scene.
That’s fine. Most photography is no more than that. Pretensions to anything extra are often precisely that – simply pretensions. Doesn’t stop a lot of marginally talented photographers from peddling their efforts, and why not? It’s a living and one that gives pleasure. Only a very few of us can ever be a true genius of the lens, and I certainly do not qualify.
No, my quality is not that of a photographer, pure and simple. I’m a photographer, messy and uneasy. I am constantly aware of how inadequate my efforts are in relation to the highest artistic standards, yet I continue to hold those very same standards as a yardstick of achievement. Of course, how I define high artistic standards is a personal decision. It has nothing to do with popular photography and everything to do with artists who strive to work against the commonplace, trite, twee and clichéd.
Commonplace pictures a lot like the one I took this morning and you can see above.
Can’t win, can I? Well, yes I can. As long as I acknowledge this photograph as limited in meaningful emotional depth thanks to its overused antecedents and regard it, as I said above, simply as a marker of a time and place, it serves a useful function.
The fact that it gathers far more views, ‘Likes’ and ‘Favorites’ than any of my more personally celebrated efforts is something to live with. It’s not that hard.