So, why are people picking on post-processing? With image-processing software getting more powerful by the day (it seems), for better or for worse, the possibilities of what can be done to a photo are changing exponentially by the day.
Keep in mind, post-processing predates digital photography! Yes, it’s true Ansel Adams famously spent hours in the darkroom “dodging” and “burning” his images (carefully overexposing some parts of the frame while underexposing others) many decades before Adobe unveiled Photoshop. Photographers have always used their favorite types of film (including black-and white) to achieve their desired look.
Also using a digital camera/phone inherently manipulates photos, especially when shooting JPG’s in Auto mode—the photographer is simply allowing the camera to do their manipulating for them. Digital cameras’ processors adjust everything from color saturation to contrast to white balance, instantly when the photo is taken (and some higher-end cameras even allow for some quick editing in-camera after the shot’s taken.)
Straightaway, there are also many innocuous components to post-production that take place in the same software platforms. There are a lot of subtle changes that can be made in Adobe Photoshop, for example, that the casual observer wouldn’t even notice: slight adaptations of white balance, color saturation, or noise reduction and so forth. But there’s also near-limitless possibilities, and opportunities for changes that are not-so-subtle.
There is even a place for a lot of the more extreme manipulations! For example, sky-replacement by the “Artisan” mentioned earlier may make a couple’s engagement shoot look amazing. The couple might care about how amazing and dramatic and memorable the photos look far more than they are concerned with the photographer’s alleged ethics.
My images are intended to convey a feeling to my audience and collectors: I want them to feel what it was like for me to be in that scene; what I was feeling as I took the shot. This often involves augmenting certain parts of the scene while hiding others. Creating an image is a process that requires the right tools in the field, and in the studio as well.
When the shutter clicks in the field, the image is now a “work in progress” and honestly, the fun and easy stuff is over. The headaches and real work still lie ahead. People who flippantly dismiss an image as “photoshopped” and almost sneer at whomever created it, clearly have never waded into these waters themselves. It is not easy work. To make something look right, to look believable, takes a lot of meticulous and time-consuming trial-and-error, and a lot of practice. I view my camera as an “information gathering” tool, and when I go back to the studio, I use more tools to put the finishing touches on the information gathered until I am happy with how it conveys the scene. It’s as simple as that. This may require blending multiple exposures together for various reasons. It may involve dozens of Photoshop layers, and I might work on it for 20 minutes, several weeks or sometimes even months or years.
I have my own code that I live by, limits that I abide by when I create my images, as I think all photographers should. For example, I won’t add things to the scene that weren’t really there: I’ve been asked about sunbursts, leaves in the foreground of a river scene and so on. I consider sky replacement lazy and disingenuous with one exception—astrophotography. I’ve tried all types of methods for capturing the night sky in a landscape setting—and since I make large-format prints, the only way to do it right is to use a star tracker (this attaches to the tripod, and after being aligned with the North Star, it rotates to counteract the rotation of the Earth, allowing for longer exposures without the stars blurring.) I do this to achieve the best result—the best representation of the scene.