Before the term
The possibility of constructing a photograph around an idea is almost as old as photography itself.
During the nineteenth century photographers staged scenes, combined negatives, reconstructed historical or imaginary events and used the medium to test the boundaries between evidence and fiction. Hippolyte Bayard’s Self Portrait as a Drowned Man (1840), for example, is an early instance in which photography was deliberately staged to communicate an idea.
These precedents should not simply be renamed retrospectively as conceptual photography. Their importance lies elsewhere: they remind us that photography has always contained possibilities exceeding straightforward description.
The decisive historical change came when those possibilities became part of a wider reconsideration of what an artwork could be.
The 1960s and 1970s
During the 1960s, established distinctions between artistic disciplines were being challenged from several directions. Minimalism, Conceptual Art, performance, Fluxus, Earth art and process-based practices shifted attention toward systems, actions, propositions, materials, duration and context.
The finished object was no longer the only possible centre of artistic activity.
Photography became exceptionally useful in this environment.
An intervention made in a landscape might disappear. A performance might exist for only a few minutes. An action might occur without a conventional audience. A system could generate a series of observations rather than a unique object.
The photograph could preserve a trace.
But its role quickly became more complex than preservation.
In the work of Shunk-Kender, for instance, photography sometimes documents performances and sometimes participates directly in the realisation of works. Their images of Pier 18 record the systematic, performative and often playful processes characteristic of the period.
This distinction is fundamental.
Photography could be evidence of an artwork, a component within an artwork, or the principal form through which the artwork existed.
At the same time, artists such as Ed Ruscha, John Baldessari, Douglas Huebler and Jan Dibbets explored sequences, books, instructions, repetitions and relationships between text and image. Meaning frequently emerged in the interval between what the image showed and what language asked the viewer to understand.
The photograph’s apparent neutrality could itself become productive. An ordinary-looking image might direct attention away from virtuoso image-making and toward the system, proposition or question governing the work.
Seriality, comparison and typology
A particularly influential development involved the organisation of photographs into groups.
Bernd and Hilla Becher systematically photographed industrial structures according to consistent conditions and presented the results in grids. Their method allowed similar structures to be compared across places and functions. They called these arrangements typologies.
Their practice simultaneously recalls earlier documentary traditions and resonates with the serial procedures of Minimalism and Conceptual Art. Their work also complicated the assumed boundary between documentary and fine-art photography.
The importance of the typology lies partly in what happens between photographs.
One water tower tells us about a water tower.
Twenty water towers, photographed according to a consistent method, allow difference itself to become visible.
Repetition produces comparison; comparison produces knowledge.
The meaning of the work therefore resides both within individual photographs and in the structure that connects them.
This principle would become enormously influential in subsequent photography.
From historical formation to expanded practice
By the 1980s and 1990s, many of the strategies associated with earlier conceptual practice had entered a much broader photographic culture.
Appropriation, staging, archival research, seriality, constructed narrative and critical examination of photographic truth became increasingly prominent. At the same time, photographs regained scale, colour, material presence and visual seduction.
The relationship between idea and image consequently became more complex.
Contemporary forms could retain conceptual strategies while allowing greater visual intensity, ambiguity and interpretative openness than many first-generation conceptual works.
This development is essential to understanding the subject today.
A method can survive the historical conditions in which it emerged. It can be absorbed, transformed and combined with other traditions without requiring later artists to reproduce the appearance or ideology of an earlier period.
Ideas travel differently from styles.