Photography Does Not Exist. There Are Many Photographies

Saying that photography does not exist may sound provocative.
In reality, it is an attempt to clarify a long-standing misunderstanding that has accompanied this medium since its origins: the idea that photography is a single, homogeneous territory governed by universal rules.

Photography is, instead, a collection of different languages, each with its own purposes, responsibilities, and grammars. Speaking of photography in the singular is convenient in everyday language, but deeply misleading from a cultural standpoint.

Just as there is no single form of writing — only novels, essays, poetry, journalism — and no single cinema — only documentary, fiction, experimental film — in the same way photography does not exist as a singular entity. What exists are multiple photographies.

One Word, Too Many Meanings

Etymologically, photography means “writing with light.”
It is an elegant and poetic definition, but an incomplete one. Writing with light does not explain how, why, for whom, or according to which rules.

We use the same word to describe a wedding photograph, a medical X-ray, an advertising image, a war reportage, or a conceptual artwork shown in a gallery. These practices have little in common beyond the tool itself.

The real problem arises when we assume that all photographs should be judged by the same criteria. That is where confusion begins.

Photographic Genres as Languages

Each photographic genre is a system of shared conventions, shaped by a specific function.

Reportage photography exists to bear witness. Its grammar values clarity, narrative coherence, and contextual integrity. Excessive aestheticization or staged ambiguity can undermine its purpose.

Advertising photography, on the other hand, exists to persuade. Manipulation is not an ethical issue here, but a legitimate tool. Light, composition, color, and post-production are all carefully controlled.

Fashion photography operates within the realm of imagination and aspiration. Artifice is not concealed — it is openly embraced.

Conceptual photography allows itself ambiguity, opacity, and complexity. It does not need to explain; it needs to question.

Judging all these practices by the same standards means failing to understand the language itself.

The Fallacy of Aesthetic Judgment

One of the most evident side effects of social media is the flattening of critical judgment. Everything is reduced to I like it or I don’t like it, regardless of intention or context.

Saying “I don’t like” a documentary photograph because it is uncomfortable is like criticizing a medical report for lacking elegance.
Likewise, expecting documentary truth from conceptual photography is a misunderstanding.

The right question is not Is it beautiful?
But rather: Does it work according to its purpose?

Photography and Responsibility

This distinction is not merely theoretical — it is ethical.

In reportage and photojournalism, the decision of what to include and exclude from the frame can radically alter the meaning of a story. Photography becomes a position, not a neutral act.

In other contexts — still life, artistic, or conceptual photography — responsibility shifts from reality to conceptual coherence.

Confusing these levels leads to misplaced accusations or, conversely, to superficiality where rigor is required.

The Myth of Objectivity

Photography is often perceived as an objective record of reality. In truth, every photograph is a choice: of time, space, point of view, and language.

There is no innocent photograph.
Even the simplest image is shaped by intention, whether conscious or not.

What differentiates genres is not the presence or absence of intention, but how it is controlled, declared, or amplified.

When Photography Begins to Make Sense

Many photographers go through a phase of confusion, searching for the photography, the style, the definition. But it is often only when one accepts that photography is not a single entity that a meaningful direction emerges.

Choosing a language also means excluding others.
And exclusion is not a limitation — it is a stance.

Understanding which photography one is practicing — and which one is not — is an act of maturity.

Photography does not exist as a monolithic entity.
What exists are different photographies, often incompatible with one another, yet all legitimate when coherent with their intent.

Accepting this plurality means abandoning absolute definitions and working with greater awareness.
It means looking at images with less naivety.
And above all, it means photographing while knowing why you are doing it.

Everything else can remain outside the frame.