“Photography has never been more than a way into painting, a sort of instant drawing.”

- Henri Cartier-Bresson

It doesn't seem to make sense, really. A flagship camera body and top-of-the-line lenses provide a high dynamic range, sharp focus, and accurate colors. So why deepen the blacks, suppress the detail, and add a warm glow to the colors? Because it enables a mood and feel that I am drawn to. More, I hesitate to use the word - painterly. Is this look to everyone's liking? No! But ultimately, we take photos for ourselves and hope they find receptive eyes.

While my artistic tools don't go beyond the camera, I fully embrace Cartier-Bresson's connection between the two art forms. For me, photography is greatly inspired by the paintings I've seen. Pixels are figuratively transformed to paint when gathered from a moving train at 60 mph.

As we know, social media is a fickle beast to be fed with caution. I will often be attracted to photographs that exude a painterly feel. While there might be a positive response to this aesthetic, others suggest photography should be pure. Leave that look to the painters.

Furthermore, the converse is also true. I see paintings where the experience describes how life-like and photographic a painted artwork is. The work of Scandinavian artists from the early 20th century is remarkably realistic.

In the end, we need to follow our own vision, respond to our own inspiration, and not be boxed in by someone else's definition of Art, be it painting or photography. That we need to draw such rigid lines in the sand is unfortunate. After all, the translation of photography from Greek is drawing with light.

Henri Cartier-Bresson began his artistic career as a painter and returned to painting after an illustrious photography career. Saul Leiter as well started in the arts as a painter. As one of the pioneers of color photography, we can see how painting influenced him.

I grew up within a 5-minute walk of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. It was to play man-hunt when we ventured into the museum when I was young. The mummies' tomb was a great place to start the search.

Years later, but well before I was interested in photography, my sister coerced me to visit the Baltimore Museum of Art. I began to appreciate the masters of painting, particularly the Impressionists. Later I was exposed to the Hudson River School and Canada's Group of Seven. Enjoying and absorbing this world naturally drew me to this style in my photography. It was an evolution and not a decision.

As a photographer, this appreciation shouldn't lead to simply emulating the work of the masters. Instead, it implants an aesthetic that inspires us and reinforces the key elements of visual design. For example, light, texture, lines, and depth are evident in the early 19th-century work created by the painters collectively known as the Hudson River School. Albert Bierstadt was a significant contributor to their body of work.

Today's portrait photographers use a lighting technique known as the Rembrandt Effect. Also used by cinematographers, the lighting darkens one side of the face and includes a patch of light under the shadowed eye. Rembrandt used it in many self-portraits, including one in the final year of his life. Painting devices from the 17th century and prior continue to flourish in today's world of photography.

The Inspiration of Painting

Before a very high-level exploration of the impact of Photography on the existing Art World, I will touch on its influence on my own photography. I also extend the usual disclaimer that I don't label photos as 'good as,' only 'inspired by.' Words such as 'good' and 'bad' are a disservice to all Art forms.

The subtleties of painting's inspiration on us are varied. Often, not even acknowledged. Not connected with a specific artist or photographer but rather a visual imprint that always lingers. Light on the landscape, the time of year, and being present in the moment all stimulate a collective vision. A look and feel fed by the inputs we most respond to.

Having spent many years in New York's Hudson Valley, the artist of the Hudson River School were always lurking beyond the moment as an overall aesthetic and not a specific painting or artist.

There are also instances where we witness a scene that triggers a specific piece of work. This is rewarding because we find something we weren't searching for. Some photographers prefer not to see the work of others. They fear that this exposure will stifle their originality. There is no right or wrong here.

I enjoy looking at paintings independent of my photography. I appreciate the visual clues that it embeds in my mind. The same benefits can be found in looking at the work of other photographers. It expands our creative horizons.

In the early 20th century, Canada's Group of Seven introduced the world to Canada's raw and beautiful landscape. They would include lone branches or trees defiantly standing against time and wind.

The Group of Seven's compositions and vision are readily seen in the landscape, sparking our imagination. But, of course, the only way to recognize it is by exposing yourself to their work in the first place.

Even the most casual consumers of Art are aware of Monet's impact. He was prolific, and his work is well known. In all, Monet incorporated the bridge into a dozen paintings. Then, as his eyesight began to fail, the work became more abstract.

I am transported to Monet's Japanese Garden wherever I see even a hint of the arc of a small footbridge. Admittedly, this does not remotely resemble the composition of Monet's work, but I would like to think I felt the same peace.

Andrew Wyeth is a more contemporary artist. So much so that one of my favorite paintings is still subject to copyright, so I can only reference it. Perhaps one of Wyeth's best-known works, Master Bedroom, produced in 1965, represents the comfort of home.

Wyeth was particularly drawn to windows and interiors. Typically with an earthy and subdued color palette. He produced over 300 paintings incorporating windows. One of my favorite art books accompanied an exhibition in 2014, Andrew Wyeth: Looking Out, Looking In

Lastly, a far less contemporary artist to consider. Click on the link to explore the controversial history and work of Italian Renaissance artist Caravaggio. He is famous for his use of chiaroscuro, a dramatic treatment of light and shade, and his subjects brilliantly reflect dramatic moments.

Indeed, the subject matter does not include the drama of Caravaggio's classic painting. However, the intentional use of shadows in our photography adds mood and isolates the image’s subject, allowing us to lead the viewer's eye.

A Brief History

Despite the visual design connections between painting and photography, there has been a subtle tug-of-war since photographies birth in 1839.

How did we get here? As you would expect, painting ruled the roost of visual arts for centuries. However, the Renaissance period had culminated only two centuries before the advent of photography in the 19th century.

Yet, photography's initial influence was already evident in the art world as early as 1457, when the camera obscura was born. This device included a box and hole in which light entered; however, it could not record an image.

Johannes Vermeer's purported use of the Camera Obscura has long been debated. Many art historians have dismissed this. But the discussion suggests that the use of such a device would somehow diminish Vermeer's great works.

As photography further developed in the middle of the 19th century, it compromised one of painting's assets - depicting reality.

Like many collisions, out of conflict comes change. In a gradual evolution during the second half of the 19th century, painters conceded realism, and Impressionism was born.

Photography, however, was still not regarded as an art form. So, in the early 20th century, a movement known as Pictorialism arose to elevate photography accordingly.

Edward Steichen was a significant influence and contributor to this movement. His 1904 color photograph of the Flatiron Building could easily be mistaken as a painting.

The pendulum swung again in the 1920s when several West Coast photographers, including Ansel Adams, formed Group f/64. The group sought to highlight, with sharp focus, the beauty found in the vast national parks and expansive landscapes of the western United States. Yet, even here, while it was more photographic in nature, it was not pure photography. Instead, Ansel Adams was propelled to explore dark-room techniques that drastically altered reality.

The ping-pong of the Art world continues. Thankfully it has room for both mediums, and it has become a realm of influence for each instead of competition.

We need to create what inspires us on both sides of the artistic fence and the no-mans-land in between. But, then, leave the critics to define where it fits in their world.

The next post will be more photography-centric after indulging in the world of painting here. Although again, not without some polarizing views - the timeless power of black and white photography.

Further Reading -

• Henri Cartier-Bresson

• Saul Leiter

• Canadian Group of Seven

• Hudson River School

• Rembrandt Effect

• Master Bedroom, Andrew Wyeth

• “Looking Out, Looking In”, Andrew Wyeth

• Carravagio

• Vermeer, Camera Obscura

• Edward Steichen

• Group f64