Ever since photography went digital, a debate has raged on how much post-processing is acceptable. There have been strong debates – one that calls post-processing as creative freedom and the other calling it as manipulation. Here is a look at all the arguments about post-processing–both for and against–that I hear from people or read about.
The idea for this post came to me when I was working on one of my images. I was participating in a social-media campaign and was planning to use a landscapes images in it. I wanted the image to catch viewers’ attention and decided to pep it up with colours. See the before/after images here.
As you can see, the post-processed image appears more colourful and pleasing to the eye compared to the original image. I could have easily made it appear even more colourful if I wished to, but I decided to stop at this. But when is a good time to call it enough? How much processing is too much? Is it acceptable to process images at all?
I travelled extensively in North-East India last December, exploring many remote and rural locations in Assam, Nagaland and Meghalaya. There were many things common in photographing people across the three states – they were all very friendly, approachable and also very shy. One experience that stood out among all these was a short time we spent in a small village of Rangma Nagas on our way to Kohima.
We were on a long drive from Mokokchung—a small town in the northern part of Nagaland—to Kohima on a pleasant sunny afternoon. We stopped for a short break nearly an hour before reaching Kohima, in a small village inhabited by Rengma Naga people. At the road leading off the main road to the village, we met a man holding a rifle who saw us and stopped by for a conversation. He was out hunting birds, and did not seem to have any catch that day.
A few minutes into our introductions, he invited us into the village and called us home for a cup of tea. It was a pleasant surprise to be invited home by a complete stranger and we were more than glad to tag along. At his small but beautiful dwelling, we were welcome by the lady of the house who quickly got around to lighting the stove and making some black tea. We did not even speak each other’s language, except one of us who spoke a bit of Nagamese and interfaced us.
This article was written for Terrascape, a travel magazine where I write a monthly column on photography.
One of my long standing wish was to photograph the mendicants in Varanasi. I have been to Varanasi many times in the past, but in all these years, I was apprehensive to approach the sadhus with a camera. I had heard about short-tempered nature of many and was unsure about reaching out to them. I did not wish to photograph people from a distance either. As much as possible, I prefer to make conversations, know about the people I am photographing and keep them comfortable during the shoot. During the last visit, I decided to put my uneasiness aside and make an effort to approach them.
Instead of trying to connect with any mendicant I bump into on the river-front, I planned to meet them at their own residences. Obviously, the first step to doing this was asking permissions. I wasn’t very hopeful with being let in, but decided to try out anyway. To my surprise, the Guruji of one of the largest and well-known river-facing residence of the mendicants gladly consented to our request. Even better, the resident mendicants were happy to oblige to the camera.