Retouching: Fantasy vs. Fact
When I first learned about the alteration tools available in Photoshop, there was no discussion of why one would choose to use them. At its most basic level, the software enables you to do the types of things you would do in traditional darkroom work. Examples are contrast and global colour adjustment. The difference is that computers allow much more specific detail work to be done. Enter the clone stamp tool. It is this tool that cemented Photoshop's reputation as THE way to do image "corrections." I put that in quotes for a reason. When do you draw the line between "correction" and "alteration?" The clone stamp tool is similar to an airbrush from the old days, but instead of using a single colour of paint to mask a portion of a photo, you select pixels in the photo itself as the virtual paint. The image below is a close up of some of my recent Food Porn from Facebook. On the left is the original image and the right shows how I used the clone stamp tool to cover up a stray piece of couscous. I could have, instead, used a painting tool to colour over the part I wanted to eliminate, but I wanted to keep the variations in tone and the consistency of the line so the rim of the bowl would appear unbroken. The clone stamp tool allowed me to select areas around the couscous as a source for covering it up. You now see bowl where there was once couscous.
As my class learned more about the clone stamp tool, we were never encouraged to think about the ramifications of its use. This was particularly egregious, in my opinion, when it came to the issue of retouching a portrait. I wrote about this in an entry you can read here. We were simply directed to begin changing things about the faces before us. The actions were presented almost as facts. In other words, it was assumed that this was the proper, industry standard of how to properly prepare a photo for use. As I tend to, I balked at this manner of thinking. I never like to do anything without the value of conscious thought and retouching seemed like something only cheaters or non-thinkers would do.
Since then, my feelings about this kind of retouching have softened quite a bit. I'm still not keen on it, but it's not evil. Overall, it's vastly better to get it right in the camera. It would have been far easier to solve the stray couscous in real life, but the "fix" doesn't change the essential character of the subject. And if the purpose of the photo is present the subject in an attractive way, seeing the it messy and sloppy does not do that. In this instance, I don't think I would be doing my job as a photographer if I didn't cover up the error. That said, if the purpose of the photo had been journalistic in nature, it would have been a huge violation to change it. Read here about the whole Edgar Martins fiasco from the NY Times a while back.
Photographer and Photoshop guru Scott Kelby, in response to the recent controversy regarding a magazine cover featuring singer Kelly Clarkson, makes a much more concise argument here in favour of retouching. In sum, he correctly points out that the composition, lighting, make-up, and clothes all should be used (and often are) to affect the way the person looks well before the image gets put through computer retouching. And more importantly he points out something that should be obvious, but tends to get forgotten: that when you put a person on a cover of a magazine, you are highlighting every feature they have. Flaws you wouldn't notice at all in person become exaggerated as a result. Is it entirely unfair to make them look as good as possible?
The bad part of retouching can be seen all around us, of course. For some REALLY terrible examples, check this page out. The work this man does goes WAY beyond just simple nips and tucks. He constructs an altogether alternate (and often ugly) universe. Yet as a wanna-be wedding photographer, I'm feeling the need to embrace some greater degree of retouching. There's a fantasy element to a wedding. People want to feel beautiful on that day and there's no reason why the photos shouldn't show them at their best.
So, in sum, retouching is part of the photographic process no matter how far it's taken. Every photo by itself is already a selected view of a subject -- the photographer uses focus, composition, and light to emphasize or de-emphasize elements in the story. A photograph is already a "retouched" version of reality. It only really crosses a line when the fantasy is presented as fact.

Since then, my feelings about this kind of retouching have softened quite a bit. I'm still not keen on it, but it's not evil. Overall, it's vastly better to get it right in the camera. It would have been far easier to solve the stray couscous in real life, but the "fix" doesn't change the essential character of the subject. And if the purpose of the photo is present the subject in an attractive way, seeing the it messy and sloppy does not do that. In this instance, I don't think I would be doing my job as a photographer if I didn't cover up the error. That said, if the purpose of the photo had been journalistic in nature, it would have been a huge violation to change it. Read here about the whole Edgar Martins fiasco from the NY Times a while back.
Photographer and Photoshop guru Scott Kelby, in response to the recent controversy regarding a magazine cover featuring singer Kelly Clarkson, makes a much more concise argument here in favour of retouching. In sum, he correctly points out that the composition, lighting, make-up, and clothes all should be used (and often are) to affect the way the person looks well before the image gets put through computer retouching. And more importantly he points out something that should be obvious, but tends to get forgotten: that when you put a person on a cover of a magazine, you are highlighting every feature they have. Flaws you wouldn't notice at all in person become exaggerated as a result. Is it entirely unfair to make them look as good as possible?
The bad part of retouching can be seen all around us, of course. For some REALLY terrible examples, check this page out. The work this man does goes WAY beyond just simple nips and tucks. He constructs an altogether alternate (and often ugly) universe. Yet as a wanna-be wedding photographer, I'm feeling the need to embrace some greater degree of retouching. There's a fantasy element to a wedding. People want to feel beautiful on that day and there's no reason why the photos shouldn't show them at their best.
So, in sum, retouching is part of the photographic process no matter how far it's taken. Every photo by itself is already a selected view of a subject -- the photographer uses focus, composition, and light to emphasize or de-emphasize elements in the story. A photograph is already a "retouched" version of reality. It only really crosses a line when the fantasy is presented as fact.






Well, I daresay Kelly Clarkson wanted to look her best for that cover. It seems to me that there's no ethical issue when it's the cover of a magazine (Self is hardly archival) and the subject is okay with it.
It strikes me that the tension here is the tension in a lot of art--the push-pull between presenting reality and something that makes a satisfying/comprehensible statement. Life in its dailiness is sadly lacking in the satisfying/comprehensible department.
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The only problem I have with that cover, as with all cover or magazine shots of women, is the bad body image stuff that is laid onto young girls because of it. Then again, people are growing more savvy about whether these things get doctored, so maybe in twenty years it won't be as much of a problem.
I guess there's really three categories that images fall into: 1 - journalistic (no alterations), 2 - art (where all lies are acceptable as part of the process), and 3 - not sure what to call it. It's the one in the middle space between truth and lie. I guess fantasy is the best word for it. Or idealized reality. It's odd though that altered photos that are presented as "fact" get so much more scrutiny than words. Even the most honest reporter or writer will get things wrong or give a false impression when translating their experience to words. I think that's why I find art more "honest" than most things in life. The lies are transparent
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There is no doubt that the constant onslaught of unattainable and unrealistic images of beauty has an extremely detrimental impact on young girls who haven't yet developed the self-image and inner resources to understand and cope with it. It's pretty shocking the first time you have a nine-year-old girl tell you she can't wait to get old enough to have plastic surgery. But the doctoring of the images in that way seems more of a symptom of something that's broken to me than the thing that is directly causing it. The photographers are just realistically looking at what will sell.
I agree about art. I'm not sure I really believe in journalistic truth (although I am a big believer in investigative journalism, which is why I finally broke down and subscribed to the Sunday NYT--I don't like hearing about the papers who are still engaging in it having so much economic trouble). The truth is such a slippery thing, and having written a lot of nonfiction, it seems to me that it is fundamentally impossible to take yourself out of the writing of even the most basic facts. I think that would translate to photographic journalism, too. I mean, the photographer is at the very least picking to aim the camera at one thing instead of another. It is on some level more honest to admit that up front, as artists do.
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