Watched “Cave of Forgotten Dreams” the other night. It is indescribably thrilling to think on the sudden and complete eruption of human consciousness around 40,000 years ago and to be a part of this human lineage of image makers.

In recent years, I’ve noticed an increasing strident discussion, mainly among photographers, concerning the “purity” of film over digital capture. The argument goes like this, “Technology today gives anyone the ability to be a good photographer, it cheapens the art of photography.” In a way, it is very reminiscent of the 19th century debate among painters who decried Photography as not a legitimate art form. Having gained recognized status as artists, photographers themselves now promulgate the same parochialism and intolerance. It is as if silver gelatin, buy virtue of its alchemical properties, impart a higher value and importance to images than does the CCD. As someone who used film, made my own film and paper developers, and love the “magic” of the darkroom, I have to object. There was no dearth of bad photography in the era of Tri-X, Rodinal and Portriga Rapid. Yes, there were skills that needed to be mastered, techniques to delve deeply into. But bad photography is a function of the photographer, not the medium or method of capture. If it seems that there is more bad photography around these days, I think it has more to do with the ease of digital delivery methods. The internet has certainly made possible a level of self-publishing that has ever existed in human time. But it has also made available an abundance of really good photography. It has opened new means for exhibiting, sharing and collaborating. In the final analysis, the quality of photography, whether silver-based or digital, rests in the sensitivity and sensibilities of the photographer. It is a result of the way in which the artist “sees” the world. Rather than bemoaning and condemning new technologies and mediums, let’s engage in a discussion of meaning: the meaning of images.