Over the years I have heard two Japanese craftspeople use the word Bungyo. One was a potter whose cups, bowls, and plates were made by several people. He had the expertise in wheel-throwing, another in glazing, and a third in firing. I also met a fourth generation gold-leaf artist who made the gold leaf papers that would be cut and woven into an obi by other artisans. An obi, the sash wrapped around a kimono, was also one of many parts to the finished garment, with more people working on separate pieces.
Bungyo refers to the separation of work, an acknowledgement that the division of labor to different experts creates a finished piece of extraordinary beauty.
In photography, there is a long tradition acknowledging that the skill in making the print is as important as that in making the image in the camera, and when done by experts, the result can be breathtaking.
Pressing the shutter, when done well, requires decision making regarding the kind of light, the amount of focus, ideas on whether or not to show movement, answers about creating the physical perspective to the subject, what is included in the frame, what is not—a myriad of decisions.
In making a print, the starting point right out of the camera, whether a piece of film or a digital file, by nature falls short of the way the world was at the time, or how the photographer envisions the final print. The film or the file are just beginnings, whatever the artist’s intent, to coax the attributes and limitations of one medium (film or file) into a different set of limitations and aesthetics in a two-dimensional piece of paper, whether ink on paper, or dyes in light-sensitive paper.
Hold on to these thoughts as we take an imaginary walk into a three-room gallery.
In the first room, luminous black and white or color photographic prints are hanging. They pull you in, and you step forward to read the title. Should you see the credit for the photographer as well as credit for the printer? In some cases it is the same person, so double credit.
In the second room, there are photographs for which the photographer, back on the computer, perhaps using Lightroom or Photoshop, toggled through presets, filters, and blending modes, randomly looking for what looked appealing. If this journey was random, meaning you didn’t know what you wanted to say or show until it found you, and your involvement was one of scrolling through software options other people created, should the tag on the wall, next to the print, list those people who made the aesthetic effects you came across and used?
On to the third room, which is new. In it are prints for which the artist getting lead credit may have started with a photograph they made, or not, and then entered keywords and ideas into AI. The print on the wall may not even resemble the starting point. How should the credit read?
I like the idea of Bungyo, and it could have a home in photography.
Thank you!
Interesting thoughts about who gets the credit for a photographic print. Personally, I would take credit for the image itself because it was created with intention, but I don't usually have a defined intention when I process, other than trying to "bring it life". And since I have barely entered the realm of printing, I can't really say I have made an image, right? I would love to wee the above image in print, by the way!