Welcome to your future: a world where atoms are replaced by ones
and zeros and remedial jobs are now the domain of machines and  computerized
creatures called robots. Not that you or I should care, as we have been
making others to do our dirty work since the beginning of time, breeding
animals to do anything we desire. Invention followed, with novel advances
coming frequently in the last few centuries. And to those who claim
that computers are ruining our society, who can execute a laser cut
in a sheet of aluminum with more precision than a robotic machine specifically
designed for that purpose? Does it make more sense to store your company’s
files on a single hard drive or numerous bulky filing cabinets? When
examined this way, blaming computers for the downfall of society seems
like an erroneous conclusion. Using computers to replace human labor
in situations where the replacement is cheaper, faster, and better is
just another logical step the sometimes extraordinary but mostly ordinary
evolution of our society and the workplace. However, there is one field
where computers threaten to destroy a beautiful, revered, and necessary
part of our society: art. Computers bring a whole new set of rules to
the world of art, and they are threatening not only the production of
long-lasting high-quality art, but the public’s appreciation of
it.
The binding of computers and art started relatively
recently compared with the dawn of computing. The technology to
scan images and objects into a computer and the programs to manipulate
these digital conjurings has come of age in the last decade or so.
No longer are children producing Paint Shop images created with
a 256 color palate, printed out on the black and white dot matrix
printer. People now are scanning at resolutions higher than any
eye can deduce and printing their products on shiny archival paper
that they will hide behind a frame with the assumption that this
creation will stand side by side unnoticed with a nearby photograph
made with traditional processes. This assumption is wrong. Entire
museum collections have been digitally scanned and photographed
from every angle and published in full on museum and university
homepages with the hope of ushering art into the digital age. Companies
like Getty Images and Corbis have created fortunes based on this
same principle and transformed every conceivable image into a .jpg
format, a World Wide Web friendly file. This is not the respect
these great works of art deserve.
Why is our historic art threatened? For the same
reason that a fake Gucci bag holds no respect with a fashion designer
– a digital representation of a three dimensional work of
art, turned into a file, and displayed on your 15 inch cubicle monitor
is a cheap imitation and no substitute for the real thing. Art is
almost never about the strict representation of its subject matter;
art is the total sum of its subject matter, the way it was made,
its size and impact on the viewer, the location it is held, and
the way it is displayed. The layers of paint on a Van Gogh canvas
are invisible in the digital pictures displayed on a museum’s
web site. The harmony of the tones on an Edward Curtis photograph
is lost when viewed on the old CRT monitor in your home office.
Many field trips have been cancelled or replaced with web browsing
time in the school’s dusty computer lab. Many potential museum
members have thought twice about paying next year’s dues when
they see that the entire collection of art is on the museum’s
website. And most hurtfully, many works of art have been looked
upon online and dismissed because the digital representation did
not hold a candle to the original.
 The
production of new art is also gravely threatened. Families now consider
a digital camera, scanner, high resolution color printer necessary with
their purchase of the new family computer. In particular, Digital cameras
threaten the art of traditional photography. The problem is that one
does not have to put much effort into the process of creating a digital
picture. By popular demand, the technology to take 500 pictures on one
memory card in 10 minutes, auto correct the color, and then start printing
each one out is available at any electronics store for a modest price.
If desired, the photographer can examine the 1 inch LCD panel on the
back of their camera and choose to instantly delete that image forever.
Instant gratification has never been so easily attainable. By not exerting
the same effort to produce the image as the traditional process, the
photographer is not as emotionally bound to the photograph. Traditional
process would require the finishing of a roll, hand development of the
film, and then using an enlarger to print that image onto fiber paper,
soon examining the finished image with the naked eye. There is something
so utterly unromantic about the capturing of an image on a cold CCD
plate, turning it to ones and zeros, and then shuttling it onto your
computer through the attachment of a USB umbilical cord. Real photography
is the instant chemical reaction of light on silver halide crystals.
Never once has a piece a film, a plastic capsule of silver reactiveness,
performed the same way as the frame that preceded it. Never has a photographer
in his darkroom been content to print out the photograph with the same
“default” settings that he used for the last one. Many “photographers”
have used Adobe Photoshop’s Auto Levels feature on their image,
seconds before printing it out, letting the computer effectively decide
what is art and what is not. Would a professional painter trust someone
else to put the finishing touches on their artwork, based on previously
set rules regarding numbers and the data gathered from art that came
before it? Absolutely not – it would cease to be art. In the traditional
process, each photo deserves its moment of recognition. It is a physical
object, preserved on a tangible and visible negative, not a spinning
metal disk with billions of other ones and zeros, indistinguishable
to the eye. What supposed works of art were whisked into the Windows
“Recycle Bin” will never be known. It takes much more physical
effort to throw away the negatives from a professional’s camera,
or the family photo drawer, and this is how it should be. I, however,
love every single frame that I’ve shot from my film camera, whether
it ever gets to grace the lens of my enlarger or not. I even remember
where I was when I shot them, how I setup my camera with regards to
aperture and shutter speed, and often, how I felt at the time of the
picture. I am bound to this moment in time. To the contrary, a digital
picture is a product of the press of a button, rather than the photographer
himself.
Never accept an online representation of a piece
of art as the art itself. No reviews or judgments should be made
about a work of art without seeing it with your very own eyes. Viewing
art is an event worthy of an evening, and a drink afterwards to
talk about it. Artists pour their soul into their works –
don’t let your browser take that away from them. A compromise
is in store for digital cameras, as they are convenient and cheap,
worthy of a vacation or family event. But they are not art, merely
a poor substitute. As in life, when it matters, take your time.
Love your photograph and give it the time it deserves by putting
a little of yourself into it. Or it won’t be your art. Photographs
taken digitally should be credited to the camera and computer that
made them, not to the photographer. “Photo Taken by Canon
SD-450. Color composed by the Auto Levels feature on Adobe Photoshop.
Thank you Canon and Adobe for your contribution to this musuem."
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