Journalling – Reflective Practice – Page 3 – Critical Research Journal

Why Photography Lecturers Should Present at Conferences (Even If They’d Rather Be Behind the Camera)

We’ve all been there. A call for papers lands in your inbox. The theme? Something suspiciously vague like “The Art of Play | The Power of Risk.” You consider it for half a second before returning to marking 42 nearly-identical student essays on the semiotics of the selfie. Presenting at a conference? Sounds exhausting. Aren’t conferences just places where people use words like “praxis” and nobody laughs?

And yet…

Photography lecturers – yes, you with the DSLR, the back issues of Source, and the perpetual hope that someone will understand your metaphor about shadows – have a lot to gain from stepping into the conference spotlight. No, not just for the free tote bags. Though those are nice.

Let’s start with the obvious: visibility. Not the kind you teach in Year 1 composition workshops, but academic visibility. Presenting at a conference lets your ideas be seen, discussed, occasionally misunderstood, and – if you’re lucky – admired. You get to position yourself not just as someone who teaches photography, but as someone who thinks photographically. Someone with opinions on the ethics of street photography and on whether AI-generated images should be allowed in student portfolios (answer: it depends how tired you are that week).

More importantly, conferences offer what academia rarely does: actual human contact. You meet people. You swap horror stories about assessment rubrics. You find out that the lecturer from Leeds has also been quietly collecting vintage light meters in old leather cases, for reasons they can’t quite explain. You remember that you’re not alone.

But oh, the hesitations. “I’m not really a theorist.” “My work’s more practice-based.” “I don’t do PowerPoint.” We hear you. Many photography lecturers carry the inherited trauma of art school critiques and the sneaking suspicion that their ideas won’t sound clever once spoken aloud. Also: imposter syndrome loves nothing more than a room full of academics nodding with performative slowness.

So how do you get past it?

Start small. Find a symposium with a friendly vibe—ideally one with a name that nods to theory but still feels safe to present something involving actual images, like ‘Framing Photographic Education‘. Propose something you’re genuinely curious about, not just what you think will sound smart. Bring images. Speak as if you’re telling a story over coffee, not delivering a sermon. Photography is, after all, a conversation with the world – so treat your talk the same way.

And remember: conferences are full of people just like you. People who use words like “liminality” but also secretly binge YouTube reviews of discontinued Fuji lenses. They’re not expecting perfection. They’re hoping you’ll say something real.

So yes, submit that abstract. Step up to the mic. Project your thoughts onto the world – just like you teach your students to do with their work. Because if photography is about seeing differently, then speaking about photography is how we help others see the seeing.

Worst case? They spell your name wrong on the programme. Best case? Someone hears your talk, nods, and says, “That made me think differently.” Which, in our line of work, is basically the Nobel Prize.

Surely documentary photography should be objective?

The claim that documentary photography should be objective is a popular myth because it overlooks the inherently subjective nature of photography as a medium. While the genre of documentary photography is often perceived as capturing unbiased, “truthful” depictions of reality, the choices made by photographers—what to photograph, how to frame it, when to click the shutter, and how to present the image—are all subjective decisions that influence how viewers interpret the image.

Firstly, no photograph can capture reality in its entirety. The act of framing a shot inherently excludes other aspects of the scene, guiding viewers towards a particular narrative. Photographers choose what elements to emphasise or exclude, and this choice introduces a perspective. Even in seemingly neutral images, the framing, composition, and moment of capture reflect the photographer’s personal, political, or artistic vision.

Secondly, the editing process further shapes the narrative. Photographers often select certain images over others, adjust lighting or contrast, and arrange photos in a particular order. This process introduces another layer of subjectivity, shaping how an audience perceives the story.

Moreover, the myth of objectivity also assumes that photographs are neutral depictions of reality, ignoring the cultural, social, and political contexts in which images are produced and viewed. Historical and cultural norms influence both the photographer’s gaze and the viewer’s interpretation of images, often in ways that reflect power dynamics, biases, and ideologies.

Finally, it is worth considering the argument of philosopher Susan Sontag, who in On Photography pointed out that photographs are not just passive recordings of the world but are “selections from the world.” This selection process necessarily imposes a subjective framework on the material. The idea of a purely objective documentary photograph, then, is illusory.

So to sum up, documentary photography, while often thought to be objective, is shaped by subjective choices and cultural factors. This myth persists because of the medium’s association with truth and evidence, but the reality is far more complex.