When I went to art school, there were a number of disciplines to specialise in. As it happens I chose photography. Over fine art painting, sculpture, ceramics, screen printing, and so on.
I'm glad I made the choice then. I think it's good to focus one's energy on learning one thing well. To study any subject in depth takes commitment and patience. To understand and plumb the depths of any specialist subject and it's history is a lifelong endeavour, and as one learns the subtleties of photography's place in today's culture, it paves the way for understanding what lies in store, and the future and relevance of photography.
However, I sometimes miss the fact that I have halted the investigations into painting and fine art especially. I used to be a reasonable fine art potential, with an eye for life drawing and a head full of concept. There might be nothing more exciting than making a mark that cuts through visual understanding, than discovering a colour hue that takes the viewer to a world of introspection.
One of my closest friends is a painter/artist who deals with these very things every day. In many ways I wish it was me, and I can easily wonder what might have been, or dream about getting hold of some canvas and some paint and making that mark. Dabble a bit, you know?
And here lies the rub.
I could go to the store and buy the same paint as my friend. All in, I could have the same materials, the same daylight, and the same subject. Who would make the better painting?
The pictures may both be acceptable - I might be good enough to power through, step back, and say "that's ok, that'll do". It might be that I'm satisfied with the attempt simply because of the effort, or because the paints were expensive, but I'm sure that I'd be missing the point. My critical appreciation of the work would be clouded by the simple fact that it exists, and that I created it. Something I couldn't have done without the materials, the paints, the canvas - that's all it takes, etc.
My friend's picture, on the other hand, will, I have no doubt, deliver a greater impact as a moving work of art. He's spent years learning his craft, sure. He has a unique ability to visualise the final motif, the sense of space and light. He knows how the subtleties of his brush strokes can draw the viewer to the heart of his subject, and absolutely sees the synergy between subject, artist, image, and viewer.
This romantic notion is borne of years of practice and fine tuning, and, critically, knowing how to see things from the perspective of the expressive creator. The pre-visualisation of his final piece of art.
Looking at the paintings side by side, mine starts to look a little flat!
The point is, that although his tools are readily available, the artist's advantage is that he isn't really painting with brushes anyway. In fact he's become so good at using his tools that they have ceased to be of any great importance to him - just a tool necessary to get the job done. If the job is creative expression, then the last thing you want is for the tools to get in the way. Sure, he knows which are the best tools for the job, but he can get the best out of the most battered materials if need be. If I thought that having decent tools would make me a better painter then I would be mistaken - I wouldn't even be touching the sides.
The same thing applies to photography. The artist hasn't got the time to get into the nuances of my specialist subject because it would pull him away from his constant investigation into fine art. He's asked me for advice on buying a digital camera, so that he can photograph his day to day, maybe even take a few pictures for his sketch book or note pad, but he knows that's as involved as he wants to get. He's at least got the good sense not to throw down a few grand on photographic equipment, that he doesn't really need, and wouldn't make him a better artist anyway. The camera, much like the paint and brushes, doesn't make for a better photographer. In fact, it's more often the case that modern cameras can get in the way of making successful pictures.
I think I'll donate my used-just-once expensive paintbrushes to my friend - it looks like he hasn't bought any in a while

