There has been a great deal written about digital photography over the past several years. It’s time to step back from all the hype for a more grounded assessment. Because this assessment comes from me, a photographer who has done very little digital work, it may appear negatively biased. In my defense, I will note that I feel digital approaches are perfectly legitimate and wonderful. I regularly invite and work with digital practitioners as co-instructors with me on my workshop program, and I have not hesitated to judge digital images as "best in show" when I have been invited to jury exhibits. So while I do little of it myself, I’m not biased against it.

There are several basic points I wish to emphasize in this article. The first is that traditional photography carries a host of powerful tools in its tool chest that are neither diminished nor superseded by the advent of digital. Second, digital has its own powerful tools. Third, there are problems with the misuse of digital methods that are ignored or glossed over regularly, and these probems should be recognized and openly discussed along with digital’s many attributes.

Even after 25+ years of development digital photography is still "new," yet some fine work has already been produced. Traditional photography has been around for more than 150 years, and extraordinary work has been produced by hundreds of greats, including Kertesz, Adams, Weston (both Brett and Edward), Cunningham, Emerson, Sudek, Mark, Uelsmann, Salgado, Porter, Haas, Caponigro, Cartier-Bresson, Riis, and many, many others. We can expect fine work in the future from both approaches.

Unfortunately, we can also expect a plethora of bad work from both approaches, which brings me to my starting points about digital. A computer is a tool, nothing more, nothing less. A camera is a tool. A darkroom is a tool, nothing more, nothing less. A paintbrush is an artistic tool. A pencil is one, too. A computer will not turn the average person into an artist any more than any of the other tools will do so. It’s the mind behind the tool that creates art, not the tool. Those who think they will make an artistic breakthrough by approaching photography through digital methods, are in for a tremendous surprise. It would be like thinking that by going to a pen you’ll become a better writer than you have been through the use of a pencil.

Over the past several years I have heard from workshop students that some are turning to digital because of convenience. They tell me they can start and quit at any time, save what they have where they are, and continue when it’s again convenient. That’s fine if it keeps you in photography, but it should be noted that none of the great work in photography was done when it was "convenient." It was done by people who were committed to self expression, by people who put other things aside to do photography because it was so important to them. It was not done by people who put photography aside until it was convenient. That’s not opinion; that’s a fact. That fact won’t change. Work will be produced in times of convenience, but it won’t be outstanding work. The people who will do great digital work will be as artistically visionary and as committed to it as the great photographers of the past and present who have been committed to their work. People doing it on a "convenience" basis will not produce much of lasting value.

None of this should be surprising. Great work in any field—artistic, scientific, business, etc. — is always done by people who are driven, are committed, are enthusiastic, and are totally involved. Einstein did not create his revolutionary theories in times of convenience. Picasso did not create his great paintings when it was convenient. They — and all others who have been creative — put everything else aside to do their great work, and their lives were fully devoted to these endeavors. But how many who are doing photography have the illusions that you (or me) are in the league with Ansel Adams or Edward Weston, or any of the other "greats" in the history of photography? Probably very few of us. So what's wrong with doing work when it's convenient? Nothing! In fact I would have to concede immediately that if it does, indeed, keep you in the game, in your hobby, in your passion, and it allows you to proceed with your passion when you have the time to do it, then go for it! If digital allows you to proceed with your photography when you have the chance in your busy life (and all of our lives seem busier than we would like them to be) then digital may be the answer. I'm simply saying that if you aspire to be an Adams or a Weston, don't expect digital convenience to get you there.

The greatest failure I have found from those employing digital approaches is the over-reliance on Photoshop to make everything right. While my 35 years of workshop instruction has shown me that most students attending any workshop feel that they already have "a good eye" (though very few actually do, initially) the problem seems magnified among digital users who simply want to learn Photoshop. (NOTE: a nascent "good eye" can be nurtured and improved, but it rarely takes place without both good instruction and a willingness and desire to learn and to work at it. With extremely rare exceptions, the "eye" improves with learning and practice, and with guidance from good instructors.) But you have to recognize that Photoshop is a digital darkroom, nothing more, nothing less. If you feed in digital capture that has poor lighting, or is poorly seen or poorly composed, Photoshop cannot turn a sow's ear into a silk purse (nor can a traditional darkroom do it with a poorly seen negative). Yet students who approach photography digitally seem to universally ignore the idea of learning about light, about composition, about the relationship of forms in both black-and-white and color, and even fail to understand their own emotional relationship to the subject matter they have chosen. While they are determined to become experts in Photoshop, they seem oblivious, and indeed hostile to the absolute need to understand the fundamentals of light, composition, and their relationship to their chosen subject matter. What results is inevitably: "Garbage in; garbage out."

Photographic artistry cannot result solely from a complete mastery of Photoshop as a tool; it must begin well before that. Photoshop, like the traditional darkroom, is the second part of a process that begins with seeing, understanding, insight and with creativity on the part of the practioner. Those who wish to be great digital photographers still need the ability to see and to compose with the likes of Ansel Adams, the Westons, and all of the other great artists of photographic history. Whether you choose digital or traditional methods for the output of your final result, a grounding in seeing, in composing, in a full understanding of light, in extrapolating from what you see to what you want to convey to others, are the foundations of good photography. That cannot be overcome by mastery of Photoshop alone, any more than one can be a great photographer by confining one's expertise to traditional darkroom techniques. Such expertise (with traditional or digital darkroom methods) will make you a great craftsman, a great technician, but not a great artist. If you don't understand the necessities of those initial requirements to great photography, you'll never be a great photographer (though you can surely be a great technical expert in either the traditional or digital darkroom).

The student who seeks photographic artistry must be as determined to learn the art of seeing, of understanding, and of creating, as much as he/she demands to learn Photoshop or darkroom approaches. My own Photographic Arts Workshop program stresses those fundamentals, making the workshops as valuable to the digital photographer as to the traditional photographer. Every student must pay equal attention to all the necessities in the field—and to your own mindset while working in the field— as you do to the digital or traditional darkroom aspects of the art. Ignoring either one inevitably results in failure.

I also hear a great deal from digital enthusiasts about the ability to produce 50, 100, or any number of virtually identical prints from the "digitally perfected negative." This is true, but this confuses the issue of creating art with the issue of mass production. Producing photographic art revolves around a number of factors that are common to all approaches: understanding of light; an appreciation of the relationship of lines, forms, balance and imbalance; fluency in the visual language of color and contrast; a rapport with — or understanding of — the subject matter; and an understanding of what you want to say to others about your chosen subject matter. Digital methods surely outpace traditional methods for mass production, but offer no new insights for the artistry required to get to the stage of personal expression...and beyond that to mass production. (Let me also point out that mass production has no place in real art.) For those with artistic insight, digital methods offer powerful, new and unique methods of image manipulation — and these should be fully exploited, as they are by the best practitioners. But insight, feeling, artistry, and expressive communication are the important issues. Mass production is a minor and tangential afterthought. Always keep this in mind: it's the insight into the singular artistic expression, not the fact that you can produce any numberof them, that is the artistic fulfillment of the idea discovered in the field behind the camera, or conveived of in your mind, to be pursued later in the field and darkroom (traditional or digital).

Strangely, refining artistic seeing and feeling is where the abuse of digital methods may prove to be most detrimental. Digital methods, per se, are not the problem, rather the pervasive misuse of digital methodology by its practitioners is the problem. It occurs when digital practitioners overlook initial problems with the idea that those problems can be corrected later in Photoshop. Some simple problems — the unwanted power pole or the speck of dust in the sky — can indeed, be easily removed. If the power pole is recognized as a problem, it can, indeed be removed digitally in a way that's clearly better than any procedure allowed with traditional photography. But as problems multiply, later correction becomes exponentially more difficult. I have seen too many cases in which the initial simple problem (the power pole, for example) has expanded to so many unseen problems that the situation becomes unmanageable.

Digital users would be wise to guard against such proliferation of problems. "Defects" in the scene should be fully understood and recognized from the start, with a clear path in mind toward the appropriate corrections needed to make the scene what you, the artist, want to convey...even if it's an alteration of reality. That's fine, but be aware of it from the start. But also be aware of the most critially important fact: you can't really change the lighting, the basic relationship of forms, or your "feel" of the subject matter through Photoshop.

It’s best to start any endeavor — artistic, scientific, business, etc. — properly, rather than waiting for subsequent fixes to correct the initial problems. To do otherwise is "digital abuse": acceptance of initial sloppiness with the thought that it will be corrected later. It is a syndrome that has few parallels in traditional methodology simply because the opportunities for later correction are more limited. Pervasive overexpectations of digital technology has spawned it. People caught in digital abuse often forget to see light as it is, or often count on Photoshop to do more than it can do to remove unwanted objects, create non-existant, but desired objects, and even change poor lighting into desired lighting. Photoshop is a very powerful tool, but like any other tool, it must be used wisely and used within its limitations. Poor initial seeing will not be corrected by Photoshop, no matter how powerful a tool it is. Photoshop is a fine tool — an extremely powerful tool — but photographic artistry and photographic feeling starts with seeing, not with manipulating the mouse at your computer.

Today, there is a great deal of misinformation written about traditional photographic methods by noted digital practitioners. Recently I read a magazine article about digital masking written by one of its most widely published spokesmen who detailed the several steps required to make and use a digital mask. The article then stated that registration of such a mask with the original negative using traditional methods could take hours. This is patently false information.

I have made and used masks — both sharp and unsharp masks, for both color and b&w photographs. For a sharp mask, pin registration is required. Such simple, but very precise equipment, is readily available. With pin registration equipment, registration is virtually instantaneous. Pin registration can also be used for unsharp masks, making registration instantaneous, but it is not absolutely necessary. Without it, registration should take 15-45 seconds at most, on a light table.

I proved that recently during a workshop at my own home. I made an unsharp mask for a negative, purposely avoiding pin registration equipment (which I have). I registered the mask with the negative in about 30 seconds while students watched, then successfully printed the masked negative as a demonstration.

There is no reason for such misinformation to be written and printed about traditional methods, which are, in fact, remarkably easy and efficient. There is no need to enhance digital methods by downgrading traditional methods falsely. This should not become a political battle complete with negative advertising between the two approaches. Each will, inevitably, have its own adherents and advocates. This is to be expected. But false claims do not help the newcomer make an informed choice of which route to take.

Digital masking translates directly from masking procedures that have been around for more than a century with traditional methods. Digital can do it quicker, but traditional means are still fairly quick and effective. Art is a contemplative thing, and quickness and speed are not of prime concern when you’re creating a fine work of art. On the other hand, you don’t want to spend days, weeks, or months doing something that can be done in minutes by other means, but this is not the case here. Claims to the contrary are unjustifiably self-serving.

In fact, the traditional darkroom has changed radically in the last 10-15 years. Most of my own b&w printing procedures have changed significantly to take advantage of outstanding variable contrast papers, which give me far greater options and flexibility than I had a decade ago. I can print each part of an image at different contrast levels and merge them smoothly with the advent of these outstanding papers, and I have been able to print images that I was unable to print satisfactorily years ago. I can mask easily, and do it whenever desirable. It’s a simple process, and a valuable tool in the darkroom kit. I can bleach images area by area to impart a shimmering quality to the image, a look that is virtually impossible to achieve digitally. Make no mistake about it, the traditional darkroom is a very potent tool, and it is not static; it is improving constantly as products improve.

Digital photography offers great tools, to be sure, but it comes with a raft of inherent problems rarely discussed in magazines for fear of alienating advertisers, who are currently placing a great deal of their own resources into the "digital future." Hence, they do not want newcomers to know the pitfalls before getting them fully involved in the process. One of the prime attractions of digital is its immediacy: you take take a picture and view it instantly. You can delete it if it's not what you want. That's great! I sometimes wish I could do that with film and reuse the film for a better exposure. Beyond that, you can quickly send it out to others to view on their computer...from your husband or wife, your parents or kids, or the newspaper who for whom you work. For all those reasons, it's incomparable...far better, even, than Polaroid used to be. But it does have significant pitfalls.

Cost is one, not just the initial costs, but the subsequent costs. Initially the cost of digital — scanner, computer, monitor, printer, and software applications — is comparable to traditional: enlarger, lens, sink and plumbing, timer, easel, trays, safelights, etc. But digital requires constant updating and upgrading. Nothing obsoletes itself as swiftly and thoroughly as computer equipment and applications. As a result, you must pay out your initial costs again every few years just to stay current and keep working. This represents a boon to the manufacturers, and hence the hype behind all the ads. They clearly realize that there are greater profits indigital than in traditional photography, because they have the aility to sell the updated hardware to the consumer every few years.

By contrast, in 1989— nineteen years ago — I purchased seven enlargers and associated darkroom equipment for my own work and for my workshops, in which students do their own printing at the enlargers. Except for a minor modification in safelight arrangement, I have not put a penny into additional hardware costs. It would be impossible to make a statement like that about digital. (None of the improvements in traditional photography touched upon the hardware that I initially purchased.) So, with traditional photography, once they sold me my hardware, they needed to find another customer; with digital, they know I am a repeat customer for life. Clearly, the grater profits lie in digital, and hence the hype for them as "superior." To the manufacturer, they are vastly superior.

Some digital enthusiasts argue that you need not pay continued costs if you buy smart at the start and stay within those bounds. However, if any one component of your system breaks down, it may not be either repairable or replaceable with anything that the rest of your system recognizes after several years. Or, any replacement may have a series of hidden incompatibilities with the rest of your system. Thus a chain reaction starts: the inevitable breakdown of one component may necessitate the complete overhaul of the entire system. This has the further disadvantage of throwing you way back on the learning curve with both your hardware and your software, as well. There is even the possibility that your saved files may be incompatible with the new system (and this gets progressively more likely the longer you stay within any outdated system), so you may lose access to your older, prized images, or they may be convertible to your new system at very high cost. So not only are you out of pocket, you also lose valuable time trying to get back up to speed. And this says nothing about the anguish you endure caused by the possible loss of prized images from the past.

Whether you are motivated to upgrade by necessity or by desire to stay current, digital methodology forces a constant need to climb back up the learning curve. Each new upgrade of your operating system, your application (most likely Photoshop), or your hardware throws you for a loss. You’ll need time to fully understand the new system. That, of course, is time lost from your personal creativity. But it goes beyond that. You not only have to fully understand a system — any system — you have to become comfortable with it to use it effectively for your creative purposes. Each time you’re thrown back on the learning curve, valuable creative time and energy is lost. Do you want to put creative time into your own work, or would you rather put it into learning and growing comfortable with each new computer system?

Another potentially serious problem is lack of future accessibility to past imagery. How long will digital files last, and how long will future equipment be compatible with current files? It surely will be vexing — perhaps catastrophic — if important data becomes corrupted or if future equipment cannot recognize currently formatted files. There may, or may not, be ways around such problems, but the solution may be either costly or time consuming.

A look at the past is a clear indication of future problems. Old time 5 1/4" floppy memory disks gave way to 3" floppies, then to zip disks, then to CD Roms, then DVDs, and so on. Along the way new hardware and software had to be purchased to keep pace with technological improvements. Translations had to be made from older to newer systems. Current memory storage options will have to be translated to future memory options. The longer you delay in staying current, the less likely it is that you can make the translation. Your older important work can be lost forever. Imagine if you had stored important information on the old 5 1/4" floppies and you needed it today. You’d be out of luck! There is no hardware around that can take a 5 1/4" floppy. Looking into the future, some current files will not translate directly, and some future hardware may be fully incompatible with current systems. The longer you delay in upgrading your system, the more certain it is that you’ll be stranded when any part of your system fails.

There are no equivalent problems with traditional methods. I can take my very first negative made in the late 1960s, pop it in my enlarger today, and print it. I will always have that option. My past work is as available to me as my present and my future work. It will always be that way. Digital requires constant recalibration of all parts of your system: the scanner, the monitor, and the printer. Settings do not remain fixed despite manufacturer’s claims, so frequent recalibration is essential. This, too, is a diversion from creative efforts. If you use an outside service center, the problem is greatly magnified because your calibration and theirs are most often different, so all your calibration means little when you’re working through other providers.

Again, there are no equivalent problems with traditional equipment. After setting up my enlargers 19 years ago, I’ve done nothing more than use them. They give me the same results day after day. I can concentrate on my creativity, not on my calibrations.

Another point should be noted here: the work of Ansel Adams, the Westons, Imogene Cunningham, Joseph Sudek, and all the other past and present greats is still great, and always will be. Digital has not made their images irrelevant. Beyond that, none of their finest images could be enhanced via digital methods. How would Photoshop improve Adams’ "Moonrise over Hernandez" or Brett Weston’s "Holland Canal" or Edward Weston’s "Pepper #30?" It can’t because those images were so well seen and so well understood. Currently produced traditional work is equally relevant. Digital will not alter that. It will allow some new, different, and wonderful work to be produced, but it will not negate traditional photography of yesterday, today, or tomorrow. Digital has new and unique properties unavailable through traditional means, but traditional methods are immensely powerful, and in the hands of a true artist, will yield incredible results. Traditional methods have not become irrelevent with the advent of digital. Today, because of the widespread move to digital, it's already true that traditional photogaphy can be correctly viewed as an "alternative approach" (much like platinum/palladium, cyanotypes, or other infrequently used procedures), but none of that negates the power of traditional methods.

It’s wise to fully assess the benefits and liabilities of each approach before plunging into either one. But I must add one final thought in support of traditional methods: nothing has the radiance of a finely crafted silver print. Nothing. Even after 20+ years of improved digital technology, the traditional silver print is still the epitome of b&w photographic excellence. Even with the many remarkable — truly remarkable — digital b&w prints that I hvae seen, the traditional silver print still ranks as the standard by which all others are judged. I recognize that this may change in the future, but as I write and update this article (most recently in March, 2008), it still remains true.