On Tradition and Imitation
Those who feel guilty contemplating “betraying” the tradition they love by acknowledging their disapproval of elements within it should reflect on the fact that the very tradition to which they are so loyal . . . is in fact the evolved product of many adjustments firmly but delicately made by earlier lovers of the same tradition.
—Daniel Dennett
It’s too easy, for one who has “grown up” in some artistic (or other) tradition to assume that there’s a settled “right way” to do things: that the evolution of styles, ethics, aesthetics, and the boundaries of acceptability in a given medium have come to an end; that revolutions have played their part and are things of the past; that further progress may occur in technology or peripheral activities (e.g., social interaction, commerce, media), but should not affect core definitions and values. Of course, history suggests that this is not and cannot be true, especially in art.
Change is inevitable, evolution did not stop arbitrarily at our age, and progress is often unpredictable. The only times progress in art was temporarily stymied were periods of tyrannical rule. Art thrives in freedom. “Without freedom, no art,” wrote Albert Camus, and added, “art lives only on the restraints it imposes on itself and dies of all others.”
Traditions often emerge from the desire of newcomers to imitate the success of established masters. Imitation is no doubt a useful way to learn craft and professional skills, preparing novice artists for the time when their skilled are sufficiently honed to be employed creatively and expressively so they may pursue their own path to independent mastery. However, when imitation becomes tradition, it may prevent artists from making this transition, instead encouraging and allowing them to persist in doing “more of the same.”
A degree of imitation may be useful to you early on in learning skills and ways thinking. Just as important, imitating others may (if you consider it in this sense) help you recognize what distinguishes you from others: what has already been done and what you may wish to do differently. So, beware of becoming too comfortable with imitation or too allegiant to any tradition lest it tempts you away from seeking to isolate, define, and continuously refine your own creative voice—to express in your art your own unique sensibilities, personality, and experiences. As Ernst Haas admonished, “Beware of direct inspiration. It leads too quickly to repetitions of what inspired you.”
Direct imitation of other people’s styles and works is especially tempting in photography, being both easier and more acceptable than it is in other media. Unlike in other media, imitation in photography is not usually openly condemned as plagiarism, as derivation, or as cover versions. Also, since photographs often depict public views, they may fall outside the purview of copyright laws, making imitation safer. In some venues, unoriginal works need only be aesthetically pleasing and technically competent to win praise or even awards, and to become popular.
If you pride yourself on being a creative and expressive artist, however, I doubt you will be comfortable accepting praise for what you know to be someone else’s creative efforts or with the knowledge that your work does not in truth express the feelings and experiences your viewers may be led to believe you had—experiences that, if you have had them, would also have enriched your own life in ways more valuable and meaningful than anything that popularity may gain you or compensate you for missing out on.
In an age where so many take as given that artists must belong to and pledge fealty to various communities, comply with certain norms and rules, and conform with prevailing sensibilities, we must be mindful of the stifling effect that such expectations may have in terms of discouraging originality, experimentation, and innovation. Even the strictest traditions and most tightly knit communities may benefit on occasion from being shaken up by courageous visionaries who may help them evolve and adapt their values, sometimes abandon former traditions that have outlived their usefulness or relevance or that have been outright debunked and prevent them from becoming stagnant and lagging behind progress other areas. “The sneakiest of obstacles may be Tradition,” wrote Al Weber in his insightful booklet, Advice for Photographers: The Next Step (ad: https://amzn.to/3L0fpgy). He added, “in this world, that is ever changing at a faster and faster pace, one must constantly be alert regarding traditional practices.”
Recognizing that your community, your medium, or even your entire genre of art may have become stuck in unoriginal repetitions, or is at odds with current thinking about art, can be profoundly troubling. Taking a stand against prevailing traditions may come at the risks to straining relationships, threatening reputations, or loss of income. What you choose to do in such cases is never obvious or given. However, regardless of any benefit or harm that may ensue from espousing a position at odds with a community or with the zeitgeist, your choice must ultimately come down to one consideration: whether your life and work going forward will be more rewarding and meaningful to you if you speak your truth and create according to your own values, or keep it to yourself and continue to toe the line. Both choices, in different circumstances and for different people, may be right or wrong.
Even some we consider today as great philosophers and artist, acknowledging the risk of speaking their minds openly, chose instead to remain silent. Some, like David Hume, recognizing that their defiance may pose them existential threat, arranged for their most controversial works to be published posthumously. Others, like the early impressionists, recognizing that the greatest penalty they may incur for their defiance—although formidable (financial destitution, being shunned by the “art world” of their time) but not life-threatening—chose to stand their ground openly. All have ultimately benefitted humanity greatly. On the other hand, we must also concede the great likelihood that much great thinking and art have likely been denied us because those who conceived them, for whatever reasons, did not or could not bring them to light.
You may find value and meaning working in some existing genre or tradition. Most artists do. You may perhaps even excel in this type of work to an extraordinary degree and become successful and respected among its fans. Still, always ask yourself if, in whatever you do, you are true to yourself. Likely, in most times the answer will be obvious and affirming, but sometimes it may not be. Never dismiss new ideas just based on being loyal to or invested in some existing tradition, genre, market, medium, or cohort.
Also, never ignore creative epiphanies and callings just because they may not fit with common tastes or rules or formal traditions. It is the nature of tastes and rules to change and evolve in time, and they often do so thanks to the courage of creative individuals who discover new ways, leverage new technologies, conceive new ways of thinking and expressing themselves, and claim their freedom from traditions and communities that favor comfort and compliance over innovation and experimentation, who reward imitations and reject or fail to acknowledge original work that may challenge their norms in positive ways.
