Why does it matter how we do things? Or does it matter at all? A surgeon would argue, yes — it matters. Immensely. A dancer perhaps not so much, given that the free expression of ones own attitudes are fully taken into consideration. A painter might argue, it makes no difference how one holds a brush at all, you could even paint with it in your mouth. But then, a carpenter does need to hold the hammer correctly and measure distances accurately. A dancer might have to keep the rhythm and move correctly in time. These are very superficial statements that really just explore the surface of what I’m trying to get at.

A well built chair will carry many people over the years. A skilfully performed piano piece will deliver depth and grace where it needs to. Depending on how we do something, ‘outcome’ will directly be affected by process.

Considering that the ‘outcome’ is a given because anything has an outcome, even doing nothing, one might rather ask the question of ‘intent’ and its significance whilst doing things. Intent and process will happily work together, but can also be completely disconnected from one another. When asked about the origin of the main guitar riff of the song “Sweet Child ‘O Mine” by Guns ’n’ Roses, the guitarist Saul Hudson, known as “Slash” said it was a “fluke” — essentially he was messing around. He had no intent of making an iconic riff. While in this case the intent was missing, the process remained, as he is known to be one of the most influential and talented guitarists. Process therefore means he knows how to hold a guitar, how to tune it, to train his fingers, to read music, to understand chord progressions and melodies, interpret guitar scales and realign them in a creative way. Process therefore seems necessary to enable intent.

What happens when there is no process, but a strong intent? A favourite example of mine for this is developing black and white film. Black and white film is a lovely medium to work with in photography and it is known to be the easiest of film types to work with. There are many different developers that can be used to influence all sorts of effects on the emulsion (sharper, finer grain, more contrast and so on). It’s usually a relatively forgiving process and you don’t need to watch out too much for all the variables like water temperature, room temperature, concentration of the chemicals used in order to get *usable* negatives. But if you want to do it right, you’ll have to really take things to the next level, especially if you want your negatives to survive the test of time. Developing black and white film really works as a metaphor for attention to detail and mastering a process — at least that’s what it taught me. If one considers the technology that is accessible to us today, it’s quite radical to think about how arduous making the first step to attaining a photograph is — because a developed film doesn’t mean a ready print! Developing is really just the first step to attaining a finished photograph. Without the correct procedure, you will have a difficult time recreating pleasing results.

Can you think of a time where it doesn’t matter how you do what you do? Process does not necessarily equate to technique and perhaps that’s where it differs to something like instructions. Process is not set in stone. Process really is a mechanism that enables one to act accordingly. A perhaps relatable experience many people had during the recent pandemic, was the drive to do things themselves and independently, like growing your own basil, knitting or mastering the art of espresso. I myself decided to “get myself a new hobby” when I learned about James Hoffmann and his educational and entertaining videos on espresso. He breaks down all the variables that effect the outcome of making espresso, from brew ratio, bean weight, degree of roast, grind size of the beans, water temperature and so much more. Anyone who hasn’t seen his videos, prepare to delve into a rabbit hole of coffee. For those who are not avid coffee drinkers (I myself I only drink it for the taste and the procedure), worry not! Making coffee in the morning has provided me with a pillar that enables stability and comfort to every start of the day. Clearly this doesn’t only count for coffee, it could just as well be making tea, going for a run or meditating. The fact that there’s a specific process I follow to make coffee each morning, provides a safety net for anything else that the day might throw against me. The thing about process is this: if you can control the outcome of something by following a procedure, you may expect a positive side effect of safety. I didn’t know this until my life became more and more hectic, but having small parts of your day that are safe havens for you and indispensable for your mental well being. Following a procedure also means you know what you’re doing when looking back. If you make mistakes, like if my coffee flows out of the portafilter too quickly, I know I probably have too coarse of a grind setting. Problem solving therefore is easier because you can retrace your steps backwards.

Ultimately what makes process important though, is that it means your mind needs to work and keep track of things. Process, whilst being a physical interaction, means you need to stay on your feet. I need to weigh my coffee, clean my portafilter, feel my oat milk warm up through the stainless steel milk frothing jug, watch the coffee pour out and oversee the change in weight in over time as the cup fills. It’s not about pushing buttons that automate things, it’s about making sure things go the way they are meant to go.

You might ask where I’m taking you with all this and the answer is simple: our lives have turned into such high paced endeavours that taking time to do things is on the decline. Just like with the news, it doesn’t really matter anymore what the news are, as long as you are the first to report on it. This race to be first is the same drive that pushes us to be goal orientated. People talk about their 5-year or 10-year plans and have preconceived notions of how things should go. While planning is good and essential, there’s no shortcut to learning. Learning by doing means learning by understanding. And to understand means to dissect, rebuild, reverse engineer and where are we going to do that if we all strive for instant perfection?

In terms of photography, I’ve made the darkroom my home and through the process surrounding developing and making prints I’ve learned to appreciate photography in a new way and the result of that is: I take less photographs. And following this I’ve asked myself the question: are we taking too many photographs? In walking the long road of analogue photography, where a photo starts with the release of a shutter and goes along a chemical rollercoaster until it turns into a silver gelatin print, I learned to appreciate what happens until a photograph is really in front of you. Surely with digital photography this road is shortened and perhaps that means we don’t learn as much on the road anymore. If the end goal would be “make better photographs”, I’d ask: are we better at taking photographs now, then say 80 years ago? And by better I mean: have we evolved as humans in a way that enables us to capture some spec of life more meaningful? Are we better musicians today than we used to be 60 years ago? Are we better painters? Singers? If not, do we need to be better? And if not, why?

Taken from Good News, Issue 2, 2024.