On acceptance and rejection in photography
Last week I got news that some of my photos will be exhibited at the Reclaim Photography Festival in the U.K. in May. I’m pleased because it means that people on the other side of the world will get to engage with some of the images from my ongoing project documenting life along the coastal areas around my hometown.
I’ve submitted my work to quite a few festivals and exhibitions over the past 18 months or so with varying success. The process has taught me a lot about acceptance and rejection. Through it I’ve learned to understand rejection in a way that doesn’t allow it to undermine my concept of myself as a photographer.
Back in 2016, shortly after learning to use a film camera, I capitalized on some beginner’s luck. A photo I made of a woman holding pigeons in Cape Town’s Company’s Garden, from the first roll of black and white film I shot in my life, was selected for the Orms Cape Town School of Photography’s Space exhibition. Since then, however, my work hasn’t been accepted into any of the exhibitions I’ve submitted to — except for Reclaim. I’ve been rejected from the LensCulture Street competition. I was shortlisted for a Void exhibition in Athens but didn’t make the final cut. I’ve had no luck with other street photography initiatives, including Photowerk Berlin’s Street Projections project.
Pigeons. Company’s Garden. This photo featured in the Space exhibition at the Orms Cape Town School of Photography in September 2016. Brendon Bosworth.
I decided a while ago that the best way for me to navigate the experience of acceptance and rejection with photography is to first have a clear understanding of the value of my photographs to me. If I submit photos to a competition or for an exhibition opportunity I first have to feel that they’re good and meaningful in terms of my own standards. Once I have that belief then the response of others becomes less important. Everyone has different perceptions. And if the perceptions of a selection committee don’t align with mine that’s okay. If my work isn’t what they’re looking for and doesn’t fit with the exhibition that’s fine. I’m still at the beginning of the road with photography so I also know my photos aren’t at the level of many talented photographers out there. It’s good to understand that too. It means I want to keep working to improve.
Learning to accept rejection is important for photography and life in general. When you see rejection as just another life experience, not something to feel bad about, or something that undermines your self-worth, then it quickly loses its power to affect you. It’s just something that happens. Something to move on from. Likewise, it’s not helpful to be continually seeking acceptance. Don’t use the acceptance of others as a gauge for what your photography means to you. Sure, it’s nice to be included in an exhibition so other people can engage with your work. But that acceptance shouldn’t be pegged to how you feel about your photography.
If rejection and acceptance start to carry less weight then why bother to enter photography competitions and exhibitions at all? This is something each photographer needs to decide based on their own goals and vision for their photography.
Some incredible photographers don’t seek recognition at all. Take for instance Vivian Maier, a Chicago-based Nanny who shot street photography obsessively from the 1950s onward unbeknownst to the photography world. She died in 2009, leaving behind over 100,000 images in boxes of negatives and undeveloped film rolls. Maier is now recognized as one of America’s great street photographers on par with the likes of Robert Frank and Walker Evans. This is largely due to the efforts of collector John Maloof who bought a box of her negatives in 2007, ended up developing them, and went on to publicize her impressive work through the film ‘Finding Vivian Maier.’ Others, of course, find recognition quite quickly through publishing with media, securing exhibitions and generally making a name for themselves. Whether you want to shoot in obscurity like Maier or work hard to garner as much as fame as possible is a personal decision. Each comes with its own responsibilities and demands.
I like the idea of other people interacting with my photographs. I’m not out to become famous. But I think that some of the scenes I capture with my camera can resonate with others. And I’m always interested to see how perceptions of the world vary. Often, I’ll show photos to family and friends and someone will choose one I don’t like much as a favourite of theirs. Other times, I’ll show people one of the shots I consider my best and I’ll get a lukewarm response. It’s a reminder of how we all carry different experiences in life and connect with things others don’t. I’m happy if people can connect with something in my pictures. That’s why I’ll keep trying to get exposure for my work through exhibitions and festivals. I’ll deal with the associated acceptance and rejection as it comes.
