Some people say there is one phrase that a photographer should never say. And the reason why it should not be said is simple: it kills the challenge of taking pictures. Ok. Here it comes: "This is the best picture I have ever taken! It is definitely MY BEST PICTURE!!!"
Oh! Wait! Let me quickly take it back, just in case.
"This is the best picture I have ever taken! It is definitely MY BEST PICTURE!!!"
Your best picture should be, not the one you just took, or the one you once took, but the next one you are planning to take.
But I am strong. Knowing myself, my goods and bads, my limits, is somet
hing I have had to live with in the last 20 years.
My non-photographic Art has been used (which is something unusual for a piece of Art, except when it is architectonic), criticized (not that unusual), modified (usually by non-understanders), and even altered and destroyed. It lasts really long, often longer than people. Most of the time I have a thick skin about my own art.
But all the time (that is, always) I am my worst Critic. I am the first person to tell myself how good or bad things came out. I end up hating my creations, taking them out of shelves and throwing them in drawers. As the great Architect (with capital A) Enric Miralles once told me, if a book (I apply this to other pieces of art) does not behave itself ("if it's not a good pal"), you should punish it on the shelf with all the other bad books! Period. I apply that it pics, too. Period.
I once took a picture, and I believe it is the strongest / simplest / most intense / most minimal picture that I will ever take. Simply put: THE BEST.
I took it in one of my favourite cities in the world: Istanbul. I was at Ara Cafe, waiting for the great photographer Ara Güler to review my portfolio. The bar is on the ground floor of his home and studio, on a side street of Istiklal Çaddesi. It was an intense moment. Weird. Short in time, long in feeling. Ara Bey was delayed by a previous meeting. I took this picture while waiting.
What you are looking at is, yes, a glass of water. But when you put together the title ("Loneliness") with the general mood of the picture, you get an extra dimension of information. The observer's mind usually interprets the drink as an alcoholic beverage and the narrow depth of field as "sitting alone in a dark bar".
The synergy between the picture and its own name takes the observer to a different dimension, more complex than the two taken separately.
The Best? Mmmm... Lemme think...