Nowadays shots are created in post-production, on computers. It's

When Mary Ellen Mark said, “Nowadays shots are created in post-production, on computers. It’s not really photography,” she was pointing to a profound shift in the world of art and technology — a shift that calls into question the very essence of photography. Her words evoke the timeless debate between authenticity and artifice, between the purity of the moment and the ability to manipulate reality after the fact. Mark, a renowned photographer known for her deep connection to the human experience, lamented the move away from the rawness of capturing life as it truly is, with all its flaws and beauty, and toward a world where computers and digital tools could alter or create images that no longer represented reality.

In the ancient world, the role of the artist was to capture the world as they saw it, imbuing their creations with truth and emotion. The great Greek sculptor Phidias, for example, created statues that were not just representations of gods and humans, but reflections of the idealized truth of the human form. His work was about capturing not just the outer appearance, but the deeper essence of the subject. Mark’s quote speaks to a similar concern — that technology, while powerful and innovative, risks altering the essence of art itself, moving it away from its roots in the authentic and toward something that is constructed and potentially manipulated. What once was a moment captured becomes a moment created, and the distinction between the two becomes ever harder to discern.

The origin of Mark’s statement lies in the evolution of photography and the rise of digital manipulation in the post-production process. In the past, a photograph was a snapshot of reality — a moment frozen in time that could be shared and appreciated for its raw authenticity. But with the advent of digital photography and software like Photoshop, photographs began to be not just documents of the world, but visions of what the photographer wanted the world to be. Where once a photo was an unaltered reflection of the moment, it became a canvas for creativity, often bending or even distorting the truth to fit an idealized narrative. Mark’s criticism, therefore, is a call to return to honesty in art, to remember that true photography is about capturing reality, not creating it.

This shift in the nature of art mirrors the changes seen in other disciplines. Just as painting evolved from the realism of the Renaissance to the abstract forms of modernism, photography too has undergone a transformation. The impressionists of the 19th century sought not to mimic reality but to express the feeling of a moment. In this way, their work was more about the subjective experience than the objective reality. Similarly, Mark's critique highlights the tension between the subjective manipulation of photography and its objective roots in capturing what the eye truly sees. Yet, like the impressionists, the use of technology in photography can be a powerful tool for expression — it is the intent behind the creation, and the authenticity of the moment that it seeks to convey, that matters most.

A real-life example of this tension can be found in the work of Ansel Adams, whose black-and-white landscapes are often considered the pinnacle of photographic artistry. Adams was a master of darkroom techniques, but his work was rooted in capturing the beauty of nature as it existed in reality. There was no manipulation of the image to create a fantasy; rather, Adams sought to reveal the true essence of the landscape through his skillful use of light, contrast, and shadow. His work stands in contrast to today’s digital manipulations, where the beauty of the natural world can be altered beyond recognition. Adams’s purity of intent serves as a reminder that true art lies not in altering the world, but in seeing it clearly and presenting it in a way that resonates with others on a deep, emotional level.

The meaning of Mark’s words is clear: art — and photography in particular — has lost something important in the digital age. While technology allows for incredible feats of creation and innovation, it also risks overshadowing the authenticity of the moment. The rawness of life — the way we truly see the world — becomes lost when it is altered for aesthetic or commercial reasons. Mark’s statement is a call to preserve the integrity of photography as a medium of truth and connection, not just a tool for creating perfection.

The lesson we can take from this quote is not simply about photography, but about how we engage with the world and the truth we seek to express. In an age where everything can be filtered, altered, and curated, it is easy to forget the power of authenticity — whether in our art, our relationships, or our personal experiences. True connection, true understanding, comes not from the perfectly curated image, but from the real and raw moments that reflect the complexity of life. To seek truth in art, as in life, is to embrace the imperfections, the flaws, and the beauty that come with being truly alive.

Practical actions we can take to stay true to authenticity in a digital age:

1. Embrace imperfection: In your work and your life, seek authenticity over perfection. Allow for the rawness of experience to shine through.

2. Limit manipulation: When using technology in creative endeavors, consider how much alteration is truly necessary. Strive to capture rather than create.

3. Reflect on intention: Ask yourself, why do I want to capture this moment? Is it to express truth, or to create something that doesn’t truly exist?

4. Seek connection over perfection: In photography and beyond, remember that true connection happens when we show the real — not the idealized.

For as Mary Ellen Mark reminds us, authenticity in art is precious. It is not the perfect image, but the one that captures the truth of the moment, the essence of the subject, and the human spirit. In a world of digital manipulation, it is vital that we hold onto the power of rawness, not just in our art but in our lives. To see the world clearly, to embrace its imperfections, is to truly understand it.