The Picture Not Taken: On Life and Photography

by Benjamin Swett

In the vein of Rebecca Solnit and Susan Sontag, an exquisitely written, ecologically minded collection of essays by a noted photographer and writer—covering everything from the equipment of photography to the difficulties of perception itself.In an age when most of us carry a device seemingly capable of freeze-framing the world, Benjamin Swett writes with refreshing clarity on the way of the true photographer. The Picture Not Taken combines cultural criticism with personal revelation to examine how the lived experience of photography can endow the mundane with meaning while bringing attention to the beauty of both the natural world and the world we build.Having photographed trees of Manhattan, Shaker dwellings, and the landscapes of upstate New York, award-winning photographer and writer Swett brings an ecological sensitivity to these expansive and profound meditations on how to document the world around us. The essays in The Picture Not Taken take us from Coney Island in the early 70s to Paris and Prado at the turn of the last century. By turns literary criticism, art history, and memoir, they draw from writers such as Eric Sanderson, Max Frisch, and John Berger to uncover truths about a life spent in pursuit of art.In essays such as “The Picture Not Taken,” “The Beauty of the Camera,” and “My Father’s Green Album” Swett gives us a picture of photography over generations and how we can or should relate to the mechanical devices so often fetishized by those interested in the subject. In “What I wanted to Tell You About the Wind” we understand photography’s importance in understanding our place in larger environmental and social systems; and in “VR” and “Some Observations in the Galapagos” Swett challenges us to think through problems of perception and knowing central to the experience of photography, looking to the past and into our future for answers.Poignant and deftly crafted, The Picture Not Taken brings to mind the fearless ambition of Annie Dillard and the grand scope of Rebecca Solnit’s Field Guide to Getting Lost. Swett’s writing will appeal to readers who have enjoyed Geoff Dyer’s work, and Susan Sontag’s writing on photography.

Genres: Photography, Nonfiction, Essays

208 pages, Paperback

Published October 29, 2024

Reviews

[Benny Young · Rating 4 out of 5]

For anyone who has photography a lifelong lens through which they view the world, this is an enjoyable, articulate read with thoughts and anecdotes that you may or may not have had yourself at some point.

[Chris]

Well, I was expecting much more. Swett has some insights on photography and the experiences of the photographer in the creative process that resonated with me, but too much of his rumination was about his own family history.
Not that this family history wasn’t engaging. TPNT is well-written. It’s more about “Life”—particularly Benjamin Swett’s life—than it is about Photography.

[Rebecca Mae · Rating 2 out of 5]

a collection of memoir style vignettes that did not necessarily speak to me. i thought this would be much more centered on photography generally, not just the author's experience with it....some profound parts but overall did not do much for me.

[Chris Hall · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was good.

[Evelina · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5

[ebag · Rating 4 out of 5]

the title essay…

[Fer Galan · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book wasn’t only educational but poetic and deep. Each essay was descriptive and interesting. Sweet engages with the reader through his real life experiences and through his relationship with photography he inspires readers to look at the camera not only as an object but as an extension of their being. He delves into one of the biggest question in a photographer’s mind. Is the picture not taken still beautiful? Even if it doesn’t exist. The answer might surprise you. This book isn’t only about photography it’s about life.

[Marisel · Rating 5 out of 5]

I absolutely loved this book. Whoever said that it’s mostly about the author’s life, clearly missed the message. Yes, Swett uses stories from his life and personal experiences, but these are not told in a vacuum, but far from it. His messages hold meditative and deeply meaningful content that goes beyond the personal and reflect back into the heart of why any particular image holds our interest. The subjective nature of how we see the world through the lens, and why that all matters is a worthy inquiry and one I contemplate much more often than I am consciously aware of. So it’s no wonder that I found myself completely immersed in his musings and thoughtful explorations.
It’s truly a beautiful piece.