45
B+W›
any way that emphatically and
satisfactorily places one image
above another on a measurable
scale of quality.
No, the only way for such
photographic hairs to be split is
if certain predilections come into
play. Imagine for a moment that
you’re sat on a five-person panel
considering a shortlisted pair of
ubiquitous sullen teen shots (yes,
it’s a cliché, but we all know the
photographic trope I’m talking
about). Both shots are equally
well executed from a technical
standpoint, both present subjects
of the same race and gender and
both have the same anonymously
mandatory inner-city estate
backdrop. In short, both images
are identical – apart, that is,
from one key point: one angst-
ridden face is framed by dark
hair, while the other is blonde.
Consciously or subconsciously,
we all have types we are drawn
to (or opposed to), so we will
each naturally have some deep-
seated preference; some tiny
part of us that puts blonde first
or second. Does it stretch the
imagination too far to suppose
that if three of our fictional
judging colleagues favour blonde
hair (and all other things are
equal) we are more than likely
going to find the blonde-haired
misery is our winner? Not based
on any measurable photographic
criteria, but simply a personal
penchant for a particular
hair colour?O
f course, many other
factors could come
into play, not least
the assumption that
such a tight call would need to
be made to start with (which I
admit is pushing the bounds of
probability). But even in a
contest that is not so close it’s
not improbable that one or more
judges might intentionally go
against their personal proclivity
in an attempt to take their
individual opinion out of the
equation; that they might be
swayed by a trend across the
photographic board for hair of acertain colour (explaining,
perhaps, why red hair is a
recurring winning motif ); that
two ‘alphas’ might champion
dark hair and successfully
overwhelm the other three
voices; or something as
humdrum as it being close to the
end of the day and the thought of
home (or a retreat to the nearest
watering hole) being a more
pleasurable prospect than a
protracted discussion in the
judging chamber could lead to
a hastened decision. Whatever
the reason, I think it’s safe to say
that when we ask the question
‘can a group of people definitively
judge a photograph,’ the answer
is a resounding ‘no’.
Now, this isn’t a clumsy attempt
to undermine the integrity of
photographic competitions, and
it certainly isn’t intended as a
bitter indictment of the peopleAbove This image is the result of running the same roll of film twice
through the camera, allowing chance to create an interesting image. Here,
the combination of a multi-story car park in Bracknell photographed from
a hotel room, and my son riding a toy tractor at a playground, is purely
serendipitous, but the combination works perfectly together. I love this
shot with its various layers and textures, but know full well that other
people might simply see a mess. There is no single right answer.