Can your photographs of other people's art be considered art in their own right?

I was taking a load off in the main lobby of the High Museum of Art in Atlanta when my attention was diverted to how the surface of a large painting by Ellsworth Kelly was changing as the ambient light fluctuated. I'm that kind of person. I was motivated to frame up and take a shot.

I don't think this image can be considered a documentary photograph of the original artwork, if for no other reason than it doesn't show the entire piece. That said, I feel that it does successfully record one aspect of my experience of contemplating the piece, namely my interest in how the shadow cast by the canvas interacts with the painted surface and the wall behind. Leica R8, 35 mm Summicron, Kodak Portra 400. Notice how the old lens adds a nice vignette to all of the images I took that day. Saves time in post.

Making images for yourself

Sometimes we make photographs just for ourselves, or we hold particular images dear for personal reasons (including vanity). I'm not talking about snapshots -- of course, we all take plenty of those, as evidenced by the constant lack of free memory on our phones. I'm referring to considered or even artful images that we make because we feel compelled to push the shutter button, or shots we become fond of after seeing the scans or prints or after the passage of time. 

Often enough, other viewers don't give damn about about these personal favorites. Like the time I took a picture of a dozen farm fresh eggs and texted it to my brother. This garnered the response, "Why the hell would you take a picture of a bunch of eggs?" He was not jazzed about 'tones'. Sorry. I should have just savored the image on my own.

A couple of years ago we were visiting Nashville. It was a hot and humid Southern summer day, par for the course, and, furthermore, the building was not air conditioned. I was very deliberately lining up the composition below with the sculpture partially veiled by the window treatments, when a small puff of wind caused the curtains on the left of the frame to billow out. That was the decisive moment for me, so I took the photograph.

I'm very fond of this image, it is a personal favorite. It captures a certain truth about the South for me, and I like the mixed lighting. But I knew it would not have wide appeal, and, sure enough, when I shared it on social media, it got zero love. So it goes, I guess. (Details: Leica R6, 35 mm f/2, Portra 400).