My Brain on Pixel Space and Boring Rules

Sometimes my brain independently interviews itself on certain topics. This time, a background process researches what I think about photography as an artistic medium. I managed to grab it by the tail.

Will AI Kill Photography?

Do you think AI will, at some point, become better at taking pictures than humans, and photography will be dead?

I am not afraid of what will happen. Stronger, there will be a point in time when AI will be better at creating a particular kind of picture. But that is not as disastrous as photographers think it is.

  1. The current capabilities of AI are vastly overrated. AI is still an aggregation of what is out there. There is no invention, no novelty. Will there ever be surprising novelty? Maybe. But would you be interested in it? I doubt it. For advertising, as illustration, but as art, that surprises and moves. I doubt it.

But suppose AI becomes better than us at taking pictures:

  1. Keep making pictures anyway. People are still playing chess. It’s the process, dude. I guess each of us needs to consider why we are taking pictures in the first place. Do you really want to leave such an important activity to an AI?
  2. It is our challenge to find something that AI can not do better than we can. It is our challenge to find something no one can do better than you, in general, as makers. AI capabilities would be a fantastic challenge to human creativity. We should embrace that challenge rather than be afraid of it.

Will things change? Yes. But we should not react with the same Luddite arguments as photographers did when digital photography emerged.

david hockney - collage of cropped photos

On Cropping and Creative Freedom

Something different: Do you crop your pictures?

Uninteresting question, and you will see why. Yes. I crop whenever I want to remove things from the picture I don’t like. I am not religious about cropping. Or applying whatever modification to the picture, in fact. If someone can make a lovely image from a photo by cropping everything except a single pixel, I am totally ok with that. Or when someone glues 273 images together to create a great picture, it’s totally fine.

Really, I am fearful of orthodoxies. You must… use 28mm for real street, apply golden rules, only photography at dawn/sunset/hard light/…, shoot from the hip/viewfinder, use layers/deadpan/… in your pictures, never crop, never pose, … Screw all that. Wolfgang Tilmans blew up low-res images to great pictures. David Hockney cut and glued images to create fabulous artworks. Even Elliott Erwitt cropped the hell out of his photos.

I don’t want to limit my creativity by any such orthodoxy.

The Finite Space of All Images

My brain is researching the creative border. On that … Lately, I was also thinking about the limited pixel space we operate in. Say our images are 1000 by 1000 pixels, that is 1 million pixels, but the size does not really matter. It could be a million by a million, that is not the point. Each pixel in the one-million-pixel space can have 256 different color values (or 16000; again, the exact number does not matter). Then the total number of possible pictures is 256^1000000 (256 to the power of 1000000). That is a lot, but it is a finite number of pictures. Think about that.

These pictures include everything we can photograph around us, at any moment in time. Everything we see today, tomorrow, any picture we take fits in that space. And anything that happened in the past. A portrait of Napoleon, the building of the pyramids, a Neanderthal, a dinosaur, the Earth being hit by a giant meteor, everything.

I am only orthodox about trying not to be orthodox.

Eddy Posthuma de Boer’s Photo Libretto – because of the joy

eddy posthuma de boer - photo libretto book cover

Photographs, as Hans Aarsman prefers them, are not taken to make a nice picture but only because they attract the photographer’s attention and because he just feels like taking a picture of them. Photo Libretto by Eddy Posthuma de Boer is full of it.

Or as Garry Winogrand said:

Photography is not about the thing photographed. It is about how that thing looks photographed.

Discovering Eddy Posthuma de Boer

I knew Eddy Posthuma de Boer primarily as the photographer who had taken the pictures in Cees Nooteboom’s travel books. His images accompanied Nooteboom’s literary wanderings through Europe and beyond, creating a visual counterpoint to the writer’s observations. But Photo Libretto revealed a different side of Posthuma de Boer, one less concerned with illustrating a narrative and more focused on pure visual discovery.

Photo Libretto was published as a photography calendar, offering one image for each day of the year. This format gives the work an intimate, daily rhythm. Rather than presenting a single coherent project, Posthuma de Boer organized his images into thematic collections that reveal his recurring fascinations and visual obsessions.

The Art of Noticing

Here and there, the images display a wit reminiscent of Elliott Erwitt: black-and-white dalmatians crossing at a zebra crossing, creating an accidental visual rhyme. An Arab who appears to be trying to fix an overturned car, fiddling with the engine with one hand, but a few meters away lies the rear axle, completely detached. A massive pile of crushed car blocks, compressed into perfect metal cubes, speaking to the lifecycle of automobiles.

The book is organized around themes, or rather, collections of related observations. There are texts on signs and storefronts with spelling mistakes – the kind of vernacular typography that most people walk past without noticing. Means of transportation appear frequently: French cars slowly rotting and becoming part of the French landscape, their rust and decay creating unintentional sculptures.

People reading newspapers make multiple appearances, caught in moments of absorption. Companies and products bearing the name Victoria form another collection, turning a simple proper name into a typological study. It’s this kind of obsessive attention to patterns that makes the work compelling.

Cees Nooteboom, photo Eddy Posthuma de Boer
Cees Nooteboom, photo Eddy Posthuma de Boer

Ordinary Things, Extraordinary Images

The most admirable pictures capture everyday things rendered without further context, producing unexpectedly remarkable images. A neat little plant table constructed entirely from Pepsi crates, a moment of folk design that could have come from an Eggleston photograph. The ingenuity of making do with what’s available, elevated through photographic attention.

Marte Röling’s Star Fighter aircraft appears, incongruous and powerful. A hotel reception desk in Marseille drowns in an overwhelming abundance of floral wallpaper and carpet patterns. Maximalist interior design that borders on the surreal. The Leaning Tower of Pisa, photographed with the camera tilted so that the tower appears straight while the surrounding world tilts askew, a visual joke that upends our expectations.

Most memorably, a hotel room features a bathtub positioned in the middle of the space, surrounded by a shower curtain like an island of privacy in an otherwise open room. Only possible in Belgium, I thought when I saw it. These are the kinds of vernacular oddities that Posthuma de Boer sought out, or simply noticed when they appeared.

The Philosophy Behind the Images

What ties these diverse images together is Posthuma de Boer’s approach to photography – taking pictures not because they’re obviously beautiful or important, but simply because something catches his eye. It’s photography driven by curiosity rather than ambition, by the pleasure of looking rather than the need to make a statement.

This connects directly to what Hans Aarsman advocates: photography as a practice of attention, of noticing what’s already there rather than constructing elaborate scenarios. It’s democratic in its gaze, finding equal interest in a damaged car, a spelling mistake, or an improvised piece of furniture.

Photo Libretto reminds us that the world is already full of remarkable images – you just need to pay attention and be ready with a camera. The joy Posthuma de Boer found in this practice comes through in every page of this calendar, making each day’s image a small gift of visual observation.

For anyone interested in Dutch photography, vernacular culture, or the art of everyday observation, Photo Libretto remains a treasure worth seeking out.

Related reading:

Happy End - photo by Posthuma de Boer