from the eMusings Archive...

Volume 14 • Number 1 • March 2021

The Butterfly Effect

by Huntington Witherill

A beautiful print is a thing in itself, not just a halfway house on the way to the page. – Irving Penn

Predicting the future, with any degree of certainty, remains a speculative proposition. Absent the necessary passage of time with which to transform the present into the future – it will be forever difficult to know precisely what lies ahead. Of course, that is the very nature of the future. Our destiny remains largely unknown and, as yet to be experienced. However, that doesn’t prevent us from attempting to divine that which may or may not come to pass. Just ask any psychic… or your local weather forecaster.

Based upon little more than casual conversations with a few fellow photographers (who, among other things, share an interest in speculating about the future of the medium) I’ve come to the conclusion that there appears to be a small but growing faction who believe that photographic prints – together with most all other forms of physically printed media – may well be on their way to becoming relics of the past.

Citing an overwhelming (and undeniable) glut of images being posted on Instagram, Pinterest, and a variety of other social media platforms, together with the ever-increasing ubiquity of cell phones, tablets, and a host of other portable electronic devices – each capable of displaying electronic forms of camera generated imagery – the aforementioned premonition suggests that, given current trends, electronic images are likely to supplant the printed photograph in the not too distant future.

In short, the theory suggests that photographers may soon abandon the practice of producing physical prints, altogether, in favor of working exclusively with electronic images. And of course, in my own cantankerously contrary fashion, I’ve adopted an opposing position, mostly because I don’t foresee such an occurrence taking place and – barring that inevitable meeting with my maker – simply can not imagine myself abandoning the act of printing my photographs.

In my opinion, the idea that an electronic image could somehow displace (or replace) the physical print – the ultimate culmination and manifestation of a photographic image – this seems a notion so contrary to the basic tenets of photographic art (and art, in general) as to be not unreasonably characterized as a uniquely absurd and potentially self-defeating prophecy.

Suggesting that an array of light-projected pixels could somehow serve as a direct replacement for what is a physical artifact (the photographic print) seems not completely unlike the act of an intoxicated chef who has inadvertently substituted salt for sugar. Both ingredients may look similar to the naked eye but, trust me, they don’t taste the same. And depending upon the specific application, they most assuredly could not provide the same sense of fulfillment and satisfaction.

Let’s assume, for the moment, that physical prints were actually to become obsolete. The pragmatist in me tends to conclude that there could be only two potentially relevant reasons for the extinction, itself. And both of those reasons appear to be related to basic economics, vis-à-vis the law of supply and demand.

Thus, the first reason has to do with supply. If paper (being the principal substrate associated with photographic prints) were to somehow disappear as a purchasable commodity, it would be my guess that such an occurrence would likely be the direct result of a concurrent disappearance (or at least, a significant depletion) of the supply of trees that remain a necessary component in the manufacture of paper, itself. And of course, if that were to happen, the disappearance of photographic prints, the medium as a whole, and not to mention, our ability to continue the very existence we’ve grown accustomed to, would likely culminate in something a bit more worrisome than the mere disappearance of physical photographs. In that instance, I think we’d be talking about a doomsday scenario. Frankly, the only upside I could envision in such a catastrophic circumstance would be the potential collapse (and resulting liquidation) of all those annoying paper straws.

Setting aside the highly unlikely scenario suggested above, the second potential reason has to do with demand. A more reasonable precipitating circumstance might well be the disappearance of print-making tools and materials (and the resulting demise of the printmaking art, itself) due to a significant reduction in the number of photographers who actually produce physical prints of their images. Such a scenario seems far more plausible, and as such, worthy of consideration.

Yet, in a circumstance involving declining demand, the entire notion of print obsolescence then becomes one of those predictions that appears to entail a curious form of self-defeating prophecy which says: Because we are led to believe that prints are soon to become obsolete, we are encouraged to progressively discontinue producing and distributing prints, which then causes manufacturers of printing papers (and a host of other products related to printmaking – such as inkjet printers, enlargers, inks, darkroom chemistry, and so on) to gradually discontinue producing those products as a result of steadily declining sales of the products, themselves. As seemingly self-defeating as this kind of “chasing one’s own tail” might seem, it is not completely beyond the realm of possibility for such a scenario to actually take place.

Frankly, no photographer (to include any who might envision a post-print future) would welcome the disappearance of the physical photograph. Curiously, this particular subject seems rarely spoken of in polite photography circles, mostly (I think) because we all tend to agree that the disappearance of the physical print would likely spell the end of the medium as we know it. And of course, nobody wants that.

Would the disappearance of the physical print prevent the emergence of some other ultimate form or manifestation of the photography medium? Of course not. The human drive to generate artistic self-expression through use of a camera remains a particularly strong impulse. It would be my guess that such a drive will not be so capriciously set aside.

Yet, what specific form or manifestation the medium might actually take – given the suggested post physical print premonition – remains altogether unclear to me. Certainly, the inability of electronic images to, as yet, be effectively monetized, would tend to preclude any photographer who hoped to make even a modest living through the application of their art work (i.e.- through the sales of books and prints) from continuing that form of exchange, post print, and/or post printed media. And, with the way in which electronic images are so easily and widely reproduced and redistributed (dare I say, pilfered?) one also has to wonder what might become of all those brick and mortar galleries and museums that continue to collect and feature not only photographic prints, but a variety of other art mediums that depend upon the use of printmaking tools and materials. Obviously, a prestigious museum is likely to lose some of its luster once it has been compelled to confine its photography displays to the very same types of electronic images that can be so easily viewed and redistributed through a common cellular telephone.

Don’t get me wrong. Electronic images have their place in today’s high-tech world. At the same time, electronic images are not (in my personal opinion) even marginally adequate to serve as a direct replacement for the printed fine-art photograph.

Fortunately, at least for now, the printed photograph (the artifact, itself) remains the definitive expression of a photographer’s ultimate objective. The overall refinement, subtlety, visual personality, and physical characteristics of the print, itself, serve (collectively) to contribute to what constitutes the ultimate manifestation of any serious photographer’s vision. Photographic prints remain the state-of-the-art as it currently exists. And assuming that we, as photographers, do not manage to somehow needlessly abandon the practice of producing photographic prints, it’d be my guess that physical prints will remain the ultimate expression of the medium, in perpetuity.

In a quote taken directly from his website, photographer John Paul Caponigro expresses (rather succinctly) some of the myriad reasons why the physical print could not be effectively replaced by electronic means. Here’s what John Paul has to say:

“Physical prints do many things that no other method of presentation does. With a print you experience an image in combination with specific materials, which enhance expression. You experience a print at specific scales, which has an impact on how an image is viewed and in many cases modifies the message the image conveys. Prints offer non-powered portability; they can be retrieved and distributed at a moments notice to anyone without the need for other supporting devices or additional communication. Prints can be displayed in ways that make an image’s presence more durable, affecting and even shaping the environments they inhabit; with sustained viewing this can add additional depth to looking. Prints are collectible. While the time-honored tradition of printmaking is currently evolving rapidly (so rapidly that it would be fair to say it is experiencing a profound paradigm shift) it is very much with us today, and will be for the foreseeable future.”

Of course, once the foreseeable future has ultimately arrived, reason dictates that most any current premonition could, just as easily, have become the reality. After all, at this point it’s all just speculation. Nevertheless, and with the above in mind, I’ll keep my fingers crossed, continue printing, and seize this opportunity to test the efficacy of the Butterfly Effect by initiating the following official proclamation:

I do, hereby, wholeheartedly encourage any readers of this post – who share a love and appreciation for the printed photograph – to enthusiastically (and regularly) exercise the art and practice of producing and collecting fine photographic prints. After all, the best way to insure the ultimate demise of any given commodity would be to summarily abandon its widespread use and application.

As the future of printmaking continues to unfold, the admonition: use it… or lose it seems particularly appropriate.

Huntington Witherill