Where does photography begin, where does it stop?

The times of protracted chemical processes with large, impetuous specialist cameras have long passed. At least the choice is now up to us whether we choose this or a faster, "more contemporary" photographic path.

Also the hole camera, probably the simplest "device" for the image generation, has meanwhile been replaced by other equipment. Lovers still use both today, but in addition to these well-known (and tried and tested) apparatuses, there are a lot of others that can produce pictures. In addition, with the "bonus" to generate much more amount of picture material in much shorter time.

There is always the Question: Where does photography start, where does it stop?

Is working with light-sensitive materials already a form of photographic imagery? If, for example, we make a cyanotype without the use of apparatus kameralos, create pictures with solar paper, or develop chemo- or photograms?

Is it the idea in the head, with which everything begins, which already creates an image, which we then perhaps search specifically in the world or arrange in the studio? Does the image take effect at the moment we take it, whether analog or digital? What is the role of chance?

Many pictures are created without an idea and one should not demonize the coincidence just because it happened and something was not planned. What do you do with this one picture? Is it then a series? Do I combine it with other images from the archive? May I also have the courage to say, "That's it!", This picture may stand as a single work?

Or does the image formation really only take place when we are sitting in the darkroom or the computer and the image deliberately the processing, which it should get?

Who is actually responsible for how the image is processed? The picture and its content itself? Our concept of "good image"? A current or tendency in current aesthetics? A habit or something that we have gotten somewhere?

And when is this picture created? When is a picture ready? Only when it is framed on the wall? Printed or published? The image or the images were brought into a solid form as in a book, for example? How legitimate is a subsequent change from what we have already seen as finished?

Or, in order to raise another question, how long is the use of foreign image materials, for example, which are implemented for a separate concept, still "own photographic work"? What happens when our pictures become pieces that are glued, sewned and collagated - does this still belong to photography, since the source material was a photographic one? When is the appropriation of foreign material no longer regarded as a work of its own? Is this a purely subjective decision?

Everyone will probably go their own way in my questioning and have different views. From my own experience I can say that "ready" for me is really not a simple term. And photography continues to fanned out, when one is intensively concerned with it.

I myself recently integrated an object into a photo exhibition of my works. This object belonged to the development process of the photographs, which were summarized in a book. My great friend during this work was also my scanner, the analog media digitized on my computer brought, to process it there. How legitimate is this in the photographic sense?

Already the verbal distinctions that we encounter in an exploration of the subject are revealing. For example, there is the photographer and the photographer. Is there perhaps a way to resolve my questions?

Is the photographer the one who creates the image, the one who, according to technical standards, creates a photograph with an apparatus in the sense of "triggering and holding"? Who is the master of technology?

Would the photographer be the person who goes beyond it? The technology knows and uses, but also alienates and interprets?

This does not seem appropriate. Would photographers as pure technicians stand out and recognize all creativity. Except perhaps terms or such expressions as "creative lighting", "particularly staged" and "exceptionally staged". I would not want to do it that easy. Are not these expressions already an indication that every photographer (even if he does not call himself an artist) has a very conscious, creative influence on his work?

It therefore seems as if, in its own estimation and perception, a photographic image begins and ends where it ends. Perhaps there is no general formula that can be applied to everything.

I find it important not to close oneself in relation to today's time and photography, but to keep an openness to the medium. This does not mean disinterestedness, but a mobility in thought. The viewing from all (also the perhaps personally unlovely) viewing angles. In my opinion, photography is a very mobile being, full of surprises and links in all possible (artistic) directions.

The turn of the year now offers enough possibilities to ask yourself the above questions. In relation to his own work, but also with regard to the "big whole" called photography.