Review: 'Core Curriculum' by Tod Papageorge
In an era when photography has been democratized to the point of it being so tightly woven into our everyday lives, we should revisit Tod Papageorge’s Core Curriculum: Writings on Photography (2011) to remind ourselves of the medium’s artistic heritage. Published by Aperture and drawing from Papageorge’s lectures at Yale University, where he has served as faculty in the school’s photography program, the collection of writings offers historical context and critical insight into some of photography’s most influential practitioners.
The book feels somewhat countercultural in today’s image-saturated landscape. Most people who snap photographs on their smartphone, and the millions more who scroll through the infinite timelines, don’t think much about the medium’s heritage. Papageorge’s book invites us to consider photography as a deliberate artistic practice with its own history, techniques, and philosophical underpinnings. His stated aim is not to chronicle photography’s evolution, but to highlight several photographers and examine how “the physical nature of their individual practices affected the look and meaning of their work.”
This fascination with photographic praxis is an affliction particular to photographers. Think of all the behind-the-scenes, process-driven “content” produced by and of contemporary photographers. Think of all the podcasts and the YouTube channels documenting photographers at work and covering their decision-making processes, their interactions with subjects, their technical choices, their gear. Papageorge is struck by the same affliction, albeit in a more scholarly context. And, yes — even he can’t resist discussing gear from time to time.
Core Curriculum focuses on a selection of photographers that Papageorge clearly considers foundational: Eugène Atget, Henri Cartier-Bresson, Brassaï, Walker Evans, Robert Frank, Garry Winogrand, Josef Koudelka, and Robert Adams. The lineup represents a particular vision of photography’s canon, one that inevitably raises questions about exclusion. The absence of figures like Diane Arbus, Robert Doisneau, Robert Capa, Dorothea Lange, Elliott Erwitt, and Lee Miller (among many others) underscores the limitations of any work that positions itself as defining a “core curriculum.” This title implies who the important photographers are as much as, by way of exclusion, who isn’t. In following Papageorge’s predominantly male perspective on photographic history, one would assume that to be an essential artist/photographer, one needs to have outdoor plumbing.
Furthermore, one would expect a book of photographic history and criticism to contain more images than the 30-odd plates in the middle of the book.
Yet despite these obvious blind spots, Papageorge’s essays are interesting. His essay on Eugène Atget serves as a defense of the photographer-as-artist, directly challenging art historian Rosalind Krauss’s assertion that Atget should not be considered an artist. While including formal analyses of Atget’s compositions, Papageorge’s greater concern seems to be with photography’s place within the broader artistic canon — a theme that runs throughout the collection and begins to sound like an apologia. The writing lean towards the academic side without completely toppling over, but it might be leaning far enough to scare away some readers.
Core Curriculum consistently frames photographers as artists engaged in conceptual practice rather than being mere documentarians or photographers. For example, Papageorge’s comparison of Henri Cartier-Bresson to Arthur Rimbaud elevates the discussion from technical craft to poetic vision. His analysis of images like Cartier-Bresson’s “Valencia 1933” (image above) draws connections between visual composition and literary sensibility, arguing for photography’s place alongside other, more traditionally respected art forms.
How Papageorge distinguishes between artist and photographer is not entirely clear. But I have a hunch that he might agree with Charles Baudelaire who, in his famous essay A Painter of Modern Life, defines an artist as “a man attached to his palette as a serf is to the soil.” So, then, an artist is a kind of slave to one’s artistic vision, two one’s own work, to one’s passion. We see this vision (or version) of the artist in Papageorge’s essays, particularly the short one about Josef Koudelka.
Which reminds me of the time I interviewed Steve McCurry a few years ago. I forget the context of the question I asked him, but I asked him how he saw his himself and his work. He said he saw himself as a “poet.” I had been convinced he was taking the piss with me, but now I wonder…
Papageorge’s insistence on photography’s artistic legitimacy makes Core Curriculum an essential read for contemporary photographers, particularly for those whose understanding of the medium is shaped primarily by social media. At a time when technical proficiency is increasingly accessible and automated, Papageorge reminds us that what distinguishes meaningful photography is not merely skill and reach but vision and voice.
The book is not cheap. It is now out of print and sells for around $75 on the second-hand market. Its original list price was $29.95, which is a price you might be able to pay if you set and monitor an eBay alert, as I did.