On a recent early October evening, as the Midwestern sky fell from bright blue to slow dusk and the horizon filled with clouds like J. M. W. Turner had just discovered sea smoke, 16,977,411 posts on Instagram were hash-tagged “Chicago.” There are many local professional photographers who post consistently well-composed and brightly colored visions of the city, but the amateur versions under that tag are a mad rush of the City That Selfies: Not just sunsets, but skylines, water, waves, the Bean, flowers, food, pug dogs, some more of the Bean, Bulls jerseys, hotel hallways, barren streets by night, prosciutto pizza, always some sort of Malört concoction, endless numbers of genres of selfies by strangers you’ll never meet, and a river-ride’s worth of scenic splendor shot by keen amateurs without a scintilla of skill but a surfeit of good intention. Think you can do better? You should.
