For assignment three I have to produce a photo essay around a local issue. I was advised in assignment two feedback to look at documentary work that was slightly different and the example given in particular, was Chris Steele Perkins Tsunami Streetwalk 1. and Tsunami Streetwalk 2
It was a body of work in a very different vein, it is based around the Japanese earthquake and tsunami of 2011.
Chris visited two different places and photographed them twice. Once 20 days after the disaster and then again 7 months later. The images were shot all along the same street 20 paces between each other and then presented in a continuous panoramic style, one date line above the other. The changes in the scenery were subtle but obvious. The ruination still visible even if tidier.
The images were set to music and moved along in a film like sequence. The black space in between the panoramas had minimal captions which helped tell the narrative yet still allowed the audience to imaging and visualise the events of that day. I found it very effective and moving.
The images for one sequence was all landscape, whilst the others were all portrait. There was a similar visual style in the use of diffused lighting so that there was a coherence to the work.
These are elements that I will consider for my assignment three, visual coherence and subtle use of captions.
Now I am back in the world of study, having spent far too long applying for a new job, and eventually securing one, dealing with personal ‘moments,’ attending weddings and generally spending time over the summer on my house and garden, it is time to look at Post-colonial ethnography. (As well as catch up on other study bits and generally panic about deadlines)
Having looked closely at control and discipline we are now asked to explore an aspect of that, according to Elizabeth Edwards (1992, p.105), a research Professor in Photographic History and Director of Photographic History Research Centre at De Montfort University, photographers and photography is obsessive in wanting to ‘record, catalogue, explore, reveal, compare and measure the human body…’ This was especially so during the Victorian colonial photography era. The methods used by the ethnographers and anthropologists during the mid-nineteenth century are now recognised as demonstrating ‘the unequal relationship between the colonisers and the colonised.’Three names we are introduced to are: Thomas H Huxley, Louis Agassiz and J T Zealy.
Thomas H Huxley was a pioneering biologist and educator who supported Charles Darwin’s theory of evolution and introduced an anthropometric method which all colonial governors were asked to adopt. Naturalist and scientist Louis Agassiz, in another project, commissioned J T Zealy to photograph slaves in Columbia, South Carolina.On reflection, have the historical and contemporary photographers who captured indigenous groups, accurately represented the peoples they have studied? Were they occasionally ‘faked’ or romanticized? Who were the intended audience? Was it science or just another excuse to gawp at the exotic ‘other’ or an attempt to make the colonisers feel superior?In discussing this topic you cannot avoid the name of Edward S. Curtis or the term ‘the Curtis syndrome.’ Edwards (2001) comments on his ‘obsessive commitment’ in capturing tribes of the North American Indian by stating “… documenting traditional culture in the face of irreversible change is not necessarily pure ‘documentary’. It evokes feelings of nostalgia at the passing of cultures and an aetheticised ‘nobility’ which transcends documentary.”Martha Rosler was not so kind and wrote: ‘[he]… was also interested in preserving someone’s cultural heritage… he carried a stock of more or less authentic, more or less appropriate (often less, on both counts) clothing and accoutrements with which to deck out his sitters…the heritage was considered sufficiently preserved… In Curtis; case, the photographic record was often retouched, gold-toned and bound in gold-decorated volumes… financed by J.P.Morgan.’Which makes you question all over again the authenticity and intention of the photographs we see. Do Curtis’ 20 volumes which span 30 years work contain a realism? I would hope that somewhere in there, even if a bit of a jumble, he managed to capture several tribes of vanishing people.
Bronislaw Malinowski, sometimes described as ‘the father of the functionalist school of anthropology’ (which is based on the notion that all the parts of the society work together as an integrated whole) perceived, and substantiated, ‘the fact that the mind of the “primitive” man was essentially no different than that of “civilized” peoples.’ He also held the view that the ‘ethnographic subject disappears at the very moment of its recognition.’ He saw that information being recorded was not a true reflection of the peoples being studied, not their way of life nor their intellect. Also, that once scientists arrived en masse they influenced the behaviours of others.
Malinowski vigorously emphasized the importance of immersing oneself deeply in the indigenous language or languages. But perhaps more than any other researcher before him, Malinowski embraced the value of studying everyday life in all its mundane aspects. Thus for him it was not enough to simply record what tribal members said about their religious beliefs, sexual practices, marriage customs, or trade relationships – it was important to also studying how this measured up to, or played out in, what they did in everyday life.
Browse the catalogue Tribal Portraits:Vintage and Contemporary Photographs from the African Continent , Bernard J Shapero Rare Books. Core resources TribalPortraits.pdf and write a brief commentary.
Tribal Portraits: Vintage & Contemporary Photographs from the African Continent was an exhibition and sale of over 200 rare images dating from 1865 to the present day, some of which had not been on the open market for decades.
A small sample of images are below:
Noting that most of the images on the Guardian website only featured frontal nudity of women I thought I would address the balance! I also love this image as the photographer focuses on the serious business of capturing a posed portrait of what I assume to be a form of traditional dress other people aimlessly mill about or intentionally photobomb the image. None are adorned like the subjects so it is easy to see why the audiences from the Victorian era, or even now given depending on the images, people assume that different cultures walk around in such exotic attire, or naked all the time, which obviously they don’t.
From researching various photographic works there is a tendency from photographers to follow suit, no matter what the genre. The way in which reviewers and curators write about the images also romanticise various bodies of work:
On Sebastião Salgado:
These Sebastião Salgado photographs were shot during a time of extreme industrial growth, marred by harsh social inequalities and political turmoil. The harshness and cruelty of this period is present at every turn in Salgado’s arresting images, juxtaposed with these curious observations of tenderness and romance in humanity. The result is a remarkable series of emotive photographs, that invite us into a world where – in Salgado’s own words – “dignity and poverty ride on the same horse”.
On Peter Lavery:
…the Xingu and the Yawalapeti are lucky to have him as their silent recorder, their likeness shimmering for prosperity in an alchemical mix of silver and whatever precious metals it may take…
As to be expected with a catalogue devoted to one area of photography the subject matter is broadly similar despite a few different approaches to capturing the portraits. Are or reactions different to these different approaches? I’ll try to sum it up as I go along…difficult when their is so much material to comment on.One of my favourite images is that on the front cover, taken by George Rodger: I like the silhouette, shadow and the framing, the candid nature of the image, even if possibly staged, and the naturalness of the action. However, not all his images were given this treatment as seen above, although none seem to take advantage or show any disrespect.Mirella Ricciardi was another featured photographer, and not one I had previously heard of…typical blurb on her site reads:
Born in Kenya, then still a colony of British East Africa; to an Italian father and a French mother, Mirella Ricciardi grew up on the shores of Lake Naivasha in a household that was both sophisticated and wild. She was married at twenty-five to the Italian adventurer Lorenzo Ricciardi, who swept her off her feet and hired her as the photographer on the film he was making in Kenya.
Having finally severed her umbilical tie to the African continent, she now lives in the East Sussex English countryside surrounded by her Archive.
Romantic again, also smacks of colonialism even if not intentional, the ‘I have embraced the wild primitiveness of Africa yet due to my upbringing and background remain apart from it and sophisticated and above all that….’ attitude. Her images seem to veer more towards the posed and artistic and still fall into the trap of naming people within a ‘group’ rather than as individuals.
I found it quite hard to categorically state that I did or did not like the way in which some of the photographers worked. For example Hector Acebes seemed to take overtly sensual images of nubile young boys and girls yet on the other-hand capture some genuinely interesting ‘activity’ and landscape shots.
However, he wasn’t as bad as Lehnert & Landrock:
The photographic studio of Lehnert & Landrock, active in Tunisia and Cairo in the early years of the twentieth century, specialised in producing images of the landscapes, architecture and people of North Africa. Made in large part for a European audience, the work was originally distributed through a series of monographs, as well as being sold from their own shops in the form of original prints, heliogravures and reproduction gravure and lithographic postcards. Since the 1980s, this work has enjoyed the renewed attention of scholars and collectors.
Contemporary photographer Antoine Schneck, applied a totally different creative technique removing almost all contextual information from his portraiture.
There was a smattering of images either taken in a studio or outside against painted backdrops. I always find this odd if trying to reveal an indigenous population within its own environment. The photographers who fell into this trap were C. Vincenti, Pascal Sebah, and even Irving Penn…these images remind me of the typological approach of August Sander.
In conclusion this catalogue illustrates the diverse nature of ethnographical anthropological approaches in capturing African tribes. None supply the entire context or background story, but then what photograph can or does? On reviewing these images and harking back to the exercise on ‘the gaze’ it does make me think twice about how I should represent any future subject matter myself… note…don’t use bed sheets and palm fronds!
Primitive typologies/Research Point
Under this section we are introduced to the work of Peter Lavery ‘Of Humankind’, David Bruce’s images of the San, Juan Echeverra’s studio images of the Himba of Namibia and Alvaro Leiva’s work regarding peoples of the Amazon Basin, and to question if and how photographers capture indigenous peoples honestly and without falling into the many traps there are associated with this genre. The traps being:
is certainly guilty of decontextualised tribal portraits with his use of B&W portraits taken against a black velvet backdrop, which harks back to the Victorian era and typology aesthetic, thus reducing his subjects to stereotypes. This is quite at odds with a statement made on his website which was to:
make portraits for himself of people he met in his travels and who interested him not as types but as individuals.
My argument is also underlined by his lack of captioning or use of the individuals’ names.Juan Echeverria
also parallels with Lavery to a certain extent as much of his work it decontextualises the subject from their environment by placing them against a plain backdrop. In some instances the images are printed in sepia or B&W. There is, yet again, a smattering of nudity, some of which seems in context whilst others appear voyeuristic.David Bruceseems to treat his subjects with a more gently human approach to his direct portraiture. As with others many are against a plain backdrop and taken in B&W but he seems to engage with his subjects, they are smiling, pulling faces, interacting with him on an equal level. The variety of expressions reveal the engagement rather than the usual serious/bored detachment often found. He includes small detail shots as well as wider contextual everyday activities. I found myself warming to his body of work.
wasborn in 1970 in Madrid. In 1989 he started shooting travel photography, and has travelled to over eighty countries on assignment. In conjunction with his commercial work, he has worked for the past seven years on The River People. The project documents the daily lives of people along five of the world’s major rivers – the Amazon, Ganges, Mekong, Mississippi and Niger.
Researching this photographer was made fun by his website seeming to be out of action for a while and a typo in the course notes spelling his name Leyva! A selection of his work can be seen here and he was featured in an edition of foto8 magazine.
From the small amount of work I could find he also shoots in B&W and uses large landscapes, small detail and incorporates more natural/candid shots than formally posed.
In completing my own research the obvious name that appeared was Jimmy Nelson, I then thought of Sebastião Salgado’s body of work Genesis, and also that by Jacob Maentz. There were many more I could use but have previously mentioned them in other posts when exploring how famine is presented or capturing the exotic ‘other’.
The reasons behind believing they succeed more often than not is that they generally, not always (they do also fall into some of the traps, especially Salgado)
wanted to ‘create carefully orchestrated portraits of these amazing peoples, at their absolute proudest.’ Endearingly honest his website tells us:
Jimmy Nelson is not an anthropologist or a man of science. He does not claim to have the knowledge to address the questions we have about indigenous and other traditional cultures. He is a photographer and a storyteller. What started as a naive engagement with the peoples he met during work assignments, has over a period of three decades turned into a personal project. The book ‘Before they pass away’ is an homage to the cultures he will probably never fully understand, but who will never stop luring him to explore.
In an interview in the Guardian (2014) he admits his pictures are ‘intended to be aesthetic rather than factual…There is no sociology, no statistics. It’s how I see the world..’
His images are definitely more on the ‘Art’ end of the scale but he tempers this with captions, naming not only the tribe but the individual people within his images.
Rather than focusing on the fact they are vanishing Nelson has since altered his view he now believes :
Where there are challenges, there are solutions. he has come to appreciate the pride, strength, vigour, honour and resilience of the people he asked to pose for his lense. This provides him with an unending inspiration to continue his work.
In this light, ‘before’ attains a meaning that is diametrically opposed to the fatalistic reading of doom. ‘Before’ signals a moment of opportunity, a call for action and an appeal. To decide with confidence that we value what we have and will take our support into the future.
again uses colour and occasionally relevant captions, even if once more he enjoys taking slightly romantic and artistically composed images.
The above shot shows he does not shy away from the difficult situations either. When downloading this image from his website it was called ‘Yolanda’ so presumably although her name is not used within the caption, Maentz knows exactly who she was.
The Brighton Photo Biennial’s 2008 programme Memory of Fire: the War of Images and Images of War, explored conflict photography, the making of, use, circulation and relevance in today’s society. The exhibition was curated by Julian Stallabrass, who took the Iraq War as his point of reference.
Whilst researching this topic I came across:
Are You a Vulture? Reflecting on the ethics and aesthetics of atrocity coverage and its aftermath Rughani, Pratap (2010). Book Chapter published in: Peace Journalism, War and Conflict Resolution Peter Lang : Oxford, pp 157 – 172.
Which also covered many similar points but I will probably do a separate review on this essay.
This exercise asks that we read the two essays in the BPB 2008 programme and look at the work and the curator selected for the exhibition, writing a short press release of about 250 words in our learning log.
Making an ugly world beautiful? Morality and aesthetics in the aftermath by Sarah James.
The Power and Impotence of Images by Julian Stallabrass.
Firstly I thought I would research WHY press releases are made in the first place, sounds obvious I know but a good starting point.
Different from an invitation, a press release contains background information about the artist, the work, and the show. It is targeted to members of the press who may want to check out, write about, or even review your show. That having said, you can also send your press release to clients, galleryists, curators, or anyone you think might be interested in knowing more about your work.
I thought I would also check out the original press release and found one here, which had a word count of 175.
A review of both essays…
I found the essay by Julian Stallabrass to be uncomfortably informative. During the Iraq war and subsequent War on Terror, we were all made aware of the torture that was being meted out to detainees. Probably most of the general public thoughts went along the lines of ‘good they deserve it.’ But does anyone ‘deserve it’? Many people commit atrocities due to indoctrination or mental issues. Many of the victims of torture, we are told, are innocent, or if not completely innocent have no real information to give. Should we even trust information given under duress?
The fact that many of these torture sessions were photographed makes me wonder why? Was this for further degradation? Did the powers that be learn anything from observing still images of a man tied to a bed with a pair of panties covering his face?
Stallabrass does not talk about the morality of torture but informs us that the power of imagery has altered from a historical point of view. Torture during the Vietnam War was a state secret, whereas by the Iraq War it had become an overt policy. The nature of photography had also changed and his essay explores the ‘changing relationship between military strategy, the conduct of war, the media and its technology.’
He asks us to consider the vast amount of amateur footage that was published, the embedding of photojournalists with the military, giving unfettered access to military operations, and the encouragement to produce positive propaganda images only. This had a restrictive downside; narrow points of view, some censorship meaning highly controlled and sanitised images, those that Kenneth Jarecke railed against. How much was staged for the cameras, to sell a clean and anodyne war to the folks back home?
The media controlled the publication of stronger imagery due to fear of upsetting viewers and advertisers, proving the old adage that money talks. The rise of TV news and digital photography has probably exacerbated the decline of the paid rate for printed materials. Newspaper barons now have profit as a prime motive, information is published unchecked. ‘cliché reigns..[the] press has become degraded in public opinion…thought of as unreliable, gullible, mendacious and venal.’ To this effect ‘unrestrained capitalism works against the interests of democracy.’
There are seemingly two facets of photography; the photo-journalistic – speeding and intimate – and the ‘aftermath’ images which tend to be exhibited in museums – slow, sometimes artistically beautiful and ‘severely composed’. Whichever facet you view people remain cynical of the press and the imagery served up before them. There appears to be a lack of opposition to war, the Coalition seemingly allowed to engage in Nazi like tactics with ‘inadequate comment from the press…and with little published photographic representation.’ This is why the biennial and the work of Edmund Clarke is becoming more and more important.
Stallabrass concludes that whilst he believes that the biennial is ‘powerless’ in greatly swaying opinion or changing the course of these forces, ‘if…we have become to behave like Nazis, and if that cannot be grasped…if it does not cause a fundamental questioning…then something about our democracy is broken.’
Yet again these bodies of work link to the war on terror, Harlan K Ullman and James P Wade defined the new mode of warfare as shock and awe. James links the political strategy of shock and awe to the imagery also produced, describing an aesthetic of violence, a staging of the key events exploited to create ‘a dangerous range of…war-mongering emotions.’ It is her opinion that this war is also being fought over the precise meaning of the photographs, that these images depict ‘highly aestheticised’, surreal depopulated landscapes. The fact that they appear devoid of life adds to the abstraction.
Both Meyerowitz and Norfolk refer to the sublime and how this art term may need a new definition. Is it wrong that such destruction can look beautiful? This is a question that has been asked many times before over different subject matters for example Edward Burtynsky with his take on pollution and the oil industry. I think it is warranted as the slow process, several of the photographers used large format cameras, offers a different perspective. I don’t think that the empty landscapes, urban or otherwise, make me dismiss the people who once dwelt in the battered tenements. More so I wonder what happened to them, question the right we have to bomb the innocent populous. I don’t think a ravaged building needs to have a dead body or displaced person out front to make me empathise with the situation.
I don’t know that I fully agree with her summation that these aftermath images are totally detached. The Ground Zero imagery had a poetic beauty about them but that added to the poignancy of the event. Sebastião Salgado’s images of Kuwait are stunning, but they also reveal the horrendous effect that the war had on the oil fields and the workers.
James asks ‘does a war photography that seeks to represent the inhuman, abstract and even horrifically beautiful world of this contemporary military sublime offer any resistance against it?’ This was also a question asked by Stallabrass. Is there resistance to the war? I ask is it the photographer who is creating little resistance or the political will of the people that is influencing the imagery?
The article leaves us to contemplate the success or failure of this type of work, reminding us that ‘the sublime is the peculiar place where aesthetics and ethics merge, and that it is an uncomfortable coalition at the best of times.
followed by the press release…
Memory of Fire: the War of Images and Images of War – BPB 2008
The Brighton Photo Biennial feasts on strong meat this year. Guest curator Professor Julian Stallabrass, lecturer at the Courtauld Institute, is also a writer and photographer, with a keen interest in the relationship between art and the political. Along with other renowned theorists he investigates the urgent issues which arise from the depiction of war, the use of these images by the media, the circulation of unofficial amateur images, censorship, the military as a PR and image-producing machine, and the impact of digital media.
The Biennial, housed in several venues from Bexhill on Sea to Chichester, Portsmouth, Winchester, as well as in Brighton, will display images ranging from the Russian Revolution to more recent conflict, focusing predominantly on Iraq and Afghanistan. It will analyse how images are informed by the changing social and political climate.
Fully embracing the multimedia experience itself, this year BPB 2008 with three exhibition venues in Brighton, will have on offer an extensive film programme, talks, workshops and portfolio reviews along with a series of participatory and publicly sited projects. Furthermore, BPB 2008 looks to inspire the vast online community by launching a new website as a platform for ideas and discussion around the theme of photography and conflict.
Are You a Vulture? Reflecting on the ethics and aesthetics of atrocity coverage and its aftermath Rughani, Pratap (2010). Book Chapter published in: Peace Journalism, War and Conflict Resolution Peter Lang : Oxford, pp 157 – 172.
Contrary to popular belief a photographer has very little editorial control over how their work is published or even which images are used. An infamous image we are asked to consider is a photograph taken by Pablo Torres Guerro, of the heinous destruction caused by the Madrid bombings in March 2004. The original image was fairly graphic, showing damage done to property and bodies in the aftermath, including a bloody severed limb in the foreground. One paper printed the image as it was, but on the back page – El Pais, whereas The Guardian chose to desaturate the image to make it less graphic and indistinguishable, whilst The Times, Daily Telegraph, The Sun and the Daily Mail appear to have airbrushed the limb completely.
Read Clare Cozen’s Guardian article about Guerrero’s photograph and also read the core resource Should You Print it? pdf.
Editors ‘clean up’ bomb photo – The Guardian – Friday 12th March 2004
The newspaper article asks us to consider the different ways in which the press treated a photograph of the Madrid bombings, some examples are given above whilst other papers, including the Independent and the Daily Mirror, printed the image in black and white.
Paul Johnson, the Guardian’s deputy editor in 2004, justified his decision by stating: .
that while the colour change was ‘not perfect by any means’, it was the best solution…
The photograph encapsulated the scale of this very human tragedy. It’s an extraordinary photograph that was just in the margins of what we could use on the front page, but in that left-hand corner was an identifiable body part. To my mind that put us over the threshold…We could have cropped it out, but someone came up with the suggestion that we bleed out the colour. It is not perfect by any means but I felt it was the best solution all round because it didn’t eradicate anything from the picture.’
The Telegraph’s Bob Bodman thought the action was warranted:
We try not to do it, but at the end of the day we make decisions that are right for our readers, not for other journalists… adding that an image of an Iraqi boy published in the Telegraph during the war had prompted dozens of complaints because body parts were visible in the background.
We thought they were murky enough not to worry us, but we still got calls from readers…
International news agency Reuters said British newspapers tended to take a ‘more conservative approach to such images’ and David Viggers, the senior pictures editor at the time said:
Our view is that we don’t like any removals of any kind. We do not tolerate it on behalf of our photographers. Our view is that anything that could have been done in a dark room is acceptable, but we can’t tolerate anything that changes the editorial context – we couldn’t afford to do otherwise.
The ‘cleaning up’ of photographs is fairly commonplace, but more substantial changes are considered unacceptable.
The article gives examples of where some have fallen foul of these deals: the Los Angeles Times sacked a photographer, Brian Walski, for superimposing two images to ‘make them more powerful.’
With the emphasis on a free and accurate press and prizes being withdrawn due to manipulation, it may seem strange that so many reputable newspapers readily altered this photograph. The Press Complaints Commission’s code bans newspapers from publishing “inaccurate, misleading or distorted material including pictures”.
I am asked to consider what would I have done as an editor? A difficult question which may be slightly easier to answer in 2017. Sadly, there is gratuitous violence around us everyday, from films, video games, live internet feeds, Instagram and other social media. Young people commit suicide at their PC’s, terrorists execute people on YouTube, by-standers film live tragedies as they unfold. Whilst I would not wish to feed this appetite for graphic visual content there is a larger percentage of the population who would not be shocked or offended at seeing these images in their daily paper.
An event of this magnitude should be represented in the press, it is news, I would like to know what images were not printed. If given a selection, was this the least graphic? I doubt that only one shot was available. To be honest I think I would have printed it, but without manipulation, ie it could have been cropped in tighter still revealing the horrendous damage, been pixellated or had a censorship mark over the top as is often used to cover celebrity nudity. I think air-brushing is a step too far.
But Should You Print It?
The article by Michael Ignatieff gives some observations on the ethics of journalism, with there seeming to be four areas of sensitivity:
2.Invasion of privacy
3.Sex & public decency
If responding to this article using Guerro as context, the Times, Daily Telegraph, Sun and Daily Mail treatment of the his image would be considered as faking it or manipulation. Ignatieff stated: ‘the credibility of photojournalism must not be eroded by covert manipulation’ and believes that if any manipulation occurs it should always be acknowledged. I agree wholeheartedly with this ideal.
Decency seemed to cover (no pun intended) the realms of bringing an organisation’s/team’s or person’s reputation into disrepute, e.g. footballers behaving badly.
Invasion of privacy touched on photographing celebrities with telephoto lenses, the paparazzi, trespass and the invasion of private space.
Then we get to violent imagery, which seemed to take up a large percentage of the article. Most people seem to be more affronted by gratuitous violence than a gratuitous nipple.
We have to consider what, where and when to photograph. Does the very presence of a camera incite violence? The example Ignatieff gives is of a bayoneting on a polo field in Bangladesh. Kevin Carter said the same about the ‘necklacing’ that he witnessed, would it have happened if he had not been there to photograph it?
With Kevin Carter in mind he also asks is it right to win prizes with distressing images?
Photographs of violence do cause distress to many people and that has sometimes to be accepted; but to inflict distress at random is to weaken the case for doing it at all.
It is interesting how history interprets events. We are given the example of what not to print: the death of Jayne Mansfield with her head ‘impaled on a shard…her body lying several feet away…’ the crash was gruesome, her head injuries were traumatic, but this reads as if she was decapitated and this was not the case. I am amazed at the amount of sensationalist reports I have read in this part of the coursework, why worry about manipulated images when the written words are just as bad!
How do we decide what is an offensive image? Does it matter if the story is more local, more intimate, with chances that the readership will have known the characters involved?
Ignatieff suggests we ask ourselves the following four questions:
1.Is the event of sufficient social or historic importance to justify the shock?
2.Is the objectionable detail necessary to understand the subject matter?
3.Does the subject freely consent?
4.Is the photograph expressive of humanity?
Not all need to be answered with a resounding ‘yes,’ but at least one should. If we go back to the initial discussion with regards to the Madrid bombing, I think you can definitely tick 1 and 4, making the papers’ actions in printing an intact image justifiable.
Ignatieff discusses how he looked at several images to weigh up if they fulfilled his four criteria, he concluded that some did and some didn’t, and he would not have published images of Lee Harvey Oswald on a pathologist’s table, but wouldn’t it have been much better if the racist violence and lynchings occurring in the Deep South had been exposed and not hidden?
Anonymity and the need for privacy and non-intrusion into private grief is a very valid point. Close friends and family would not wish to see loved ones splashed all over the front page. The small image in the handout does not reveal the horror of the image taken by Kenneth Jarecke. It illustrates the full aftermath of war, one man’s struggle against the might of the US bombardments on ‘the road to hell,’ and the moment he died in a burning vehicle. Completely incinerated. Should we publish this image or archive it? Does ‘omitting an image means shielding the public from the messy, imprecise consequences of a war—making the coverage incomplete, and even deceptive,’ what is the price of patriotism? Does the sanitized language and images of warfare salve the conscience and make it easier for the public to create a dehumanised common enemy?
After the invasion of Kuwait in August 1990, Jarecke was not happy with the photojournalism responding to Desert Shield. ‘It was one picture after another of a sunset with camels and a tank,’ either that or taken from such an altitude that the human presence on the ground was all but erased. He felt the need for an alternative stance and he certainly achieved that. In the UK The Observer and Libération in France, both published the photograph after the American media refused.
Like Jarecke and Ignatieff, I found the image to be highly disturbing, this was a human being with friends,family, a life, following orders, but as Jarecke stated : ‘A photographer without empathy is just taking up space that could be better used.’
This photograph was taken to reveal exactly what the results are of political and public ambition to demonize another country and go to war.
It is right that we should contemplate the results of our convictions … The concept that war is horrible is altogether different from the stunning, practical realisation of horror we have willed.
Ignatieff cites Siegfried Sassoon, but this image makes me think more of The Man He Killed by Thomas Hardy, which deals with the futility, or pointlessness of war. It is told from the point of view of an ordinary working-class soldier, who is reflecting on the idea that the man he killed in battle probably had a lot in common with him.
As with images from Vietnam there is a strong anti-war message in the poem. Neither the speaker nor the man who has been killed is named gives it a universal feel, as with the unidentified Iraqi soldier, it gives a sense that it could be anyone in this position.
The reasons given for killing man are weak, we are informed that the ‘other’ are the enemy but we can’t always work out why. There is a stupidity in war in that men kill each other because they are ordered to.
The Man He Killed
“Had he and I but met
By some old ancient inn,
We should have sat us down to wet
Right many a nipperkin!
“But ranged as infantry,
And staring face to face,
I shot at him as he at me,
And killed him in his place.
“I shot him dead because —
Because he was my foe,
Just so: my foe of course he was;
That’s clear enough; although
“He thought he’d ‘list, perhaps,
Off-hand like — just as I —
Was out of work — had sold his traps —
No other reason why.
“Yes; quaint and curious war is!
You shoot a fellow down
You’d treat if met where any bar is,
Or help to half-a-crown.”
by Thomas Hardy 1902
In my opinion some photographs should be published. Hopefully the images we see and the literature we read will eventually make people wake up to the humanity of others, and that a war of words is always better than a war with weapons.
“A photograph can’t coerce; it won’t do the moral work for us but it can start us on the way.” (Susan Sontag)
Having read Imaging Famine and completed research into the shifting trends of visual styles, I still am not convinced of either the sensationalist shock value, or the pretty, pretty approach. I hate to admit that I am one of those people who sees yet another appeal image and turns the page without donating or acting to resolve issues in any way, but I am. I have my opinions that something should be done, but on the whole tend to think the answer lies with the politicians and policy makers. Armed with the knowledge that there is a problem I can lobby the correct people to ensure action is taken, therefore I do think images and appropriate information needs to be disseminated.
This post was originally created in 2012 by Jose, and now has 52 comments…I may be a while…
The topic of the article was the worst drought in the Horn of Africa in 60 years, which showed no signs of abating, and how it was photographically represented…famine rears its ugly head even now.
In Nigeria, due to the rise of Boko Haram and the displacement of much of the population, agricultural production has stalled, sadly after eight years of conflict virtually no one is planting. Instead, families eat their remaining seedlings in order to survive. In September last year (2016) the UN assistant secretary-general, Toby Lanzer, warned that Nigeria faced ‘a famine unlike any we have ever seen anywhere’.Doing a quick bit of research I found these current links and up-to-date charity campaigns.
The first was interesting as it had both positive and negative images. The current Oxfam page shows women with toddlers on their laps, so much for a different approach several years ago…
The Hunger Project makes no bones about using women. The tag line on the front page reads, ‘Start with women, mobilise everyone, engage government.’
Even Aljazeera, who are definitely not ‘Western,’ uses similar images to the Western press, featuring a mother with an emaciated child on her lap.
Or a female listlessly staring out from her bed.
We have to ask, do these photographs work? A recent article in The Guardian about the UN response to famine had this highlighted quote:
A photo of one actually starving child can be worth more than 8.5 million children at risk of starvation.
The international community does not seem to respond until there are emaciated and dying children on their TV screens.
Currently in 2017, 4 African nations are near a famine crisis.
Back in 2012 Jose explored several bodies of photographic work focusing on the humanitarian emergency , including those I have already, briefly touched upon, such as the portfolio of images taken by Alejandro Chaskielberg for Oxfam.
The photographs had been taken in the moonlight with added artificial lighting, giving them ‘an almost tactile, three-dimensional quality’ and Jose also points out ‘the colours are intense and the scenes and people depicted have a mysterious aura to them.’
Exploring the boundaries between reality and fiction by using this set up has become a sign of Chaskielberg’s authorship, his visual style. But I question, is this fictional quality suitable or apt for the subject matter? A different approach is needed sometimes but is this a step too far? Like Jose, I too ‘ fail to connect what I see in the photographs with the plea of the people in them.’ It would appear that even people who work for Oxfam had mixed views.
The other body of work discussed is that of Rankin , whose images from the same region, and also taken for Oxfam, reveal a completely different style. Although I agree that the series of people holding a day’s worth of food is beautiful photography and puts across a totally honest picture, I found as a series they became repetitive. I guess they would work used as standalone images on an aid poster, therefore the dignity of the person photographed remains intact, but I found them a bit too posed, obvious and also reminded me of a person holding out their hands in a begging posture, which is a bit of a contrast to keeping their dignity. The other images I liked, as they portrayed all generations and both sexes, not pandering to the typical ‘it has to be a woman, elderly or a child crying’ theme.
The above image by Tom Stoddard, although falling into that expected theme, does however, allow the subject to keep her dignity. Her face is not shown her stride seems purposeful, even if weak, yet it sums up the situation perfectly, a very haunting image.http://www.tomstoddart.com/gallery/sudan-famine
It is interesting to note Chaskielberg and Rankin’s use of colour opposed to Stoddard’s traditional B&W. I wonder if his images would have the same impact in colour?
On reading the comments, quite a few echoed each other and the last few are in response to the documentary coursework rather than initial responses to the post. Coming late to the party is always difficult and I have found thinking of something original to say quite tricky. When I had some ideas I carried on reading to discover that someone else said the same 2 years ago! But here goes…
The first response to the article came from Lloyd Spencer who believes we have become used to images of suffering, and fresh ideas should be looked at with an open mind. I think he is right, they are an all too familiar sight, how we ‘image famine’ should be reviewed and looked at from many angles, maybe Chaskielberg didn’t get it right in our view but at least he got us talking about the issues and not just page turning out of boredom or horror. A quote within the responses from Gareth was apt: ‘…are we desensitised to the images we see or have we just stopped looking?’ He mentioned a book by Susie Linfield –The Cruel Radience – which could be worth investigating.
Gareth also summed up how most of us seem to feel, that images don’t have to be stereotypical, but the body of work by Chaskielberg felt ‘unsettling’ and like a fashion shoot due to the creative treatment. He later commented on the emphasis on the role of women and mothers, that Oxfam wanted to raise their status to increase their rights, especially over their own bodies and the birth rate. Although this may have been their aim, it could be viewed that they were also falling into the trap of portraying the weaker sections of society?
Armano also felt an unease, but liked the progression from previous images that ‘merely portray starving people.’ Anned was another student who echoed these thoughts and felt the intention of the photographer was unclear, or is that just because we are not used to these type of portrayal? It is definitely a fine line to tread.
There was some side discussion with regards to the root causes of these issues, why after all the investment of the past were famines etc still unfolding? Interesting as they were, and valid, I won’t mention them in detail as I want to concentrate on the photographic arguments not the sociological or political.
Jose then raised a really interesting point about perception, that of the host countries, the target audience and the recipients of aid. How can we, or the charities judge whether or not a campaign has been successful?
For example, I recently saw a report by a Canadian international development charity which deemed that their well-building programme had been a failure because a very high percentage of well and pumps went out of order within months of being built.
That’s a Western view of success and failure. That sort of non-success doesn’t go down well with donors!
Now think about a particular village whose Canadian-built pump is still working properly. For people in that village, for the woman whose job is to bring 25 or 40 litres of clean water a day to her family compound, for someone called Aguira Zague perhaps (a real person btw) the programme has been a total success.
Stephanie picked up on something else Jose had to say and wrote:
If, as Jose says, “the photographer’s cultural background, beliefs, intentions and preconceptions affect the outcome of their work”, might not a carefully edited juxtaposition of photographers’ visions have an impact for a commission given by an organisation such as Oxfam? If the message is more important than the artist then this must be considered.
All three photographers mentioned have their own visual styles and reflexive practices, so this is also a very valid point, and Marmalade expanded on this, why use a famous photographer other than to be noticed (?) by mentioning the cost of publicity:
Advertising space is exorbitant….if a certain image performs better in terms of donations made, they will respond to this. There is no doubt that these images will ‘stand-out’ on a page but whether such images make us delve in to our pockets more than those of Rankin or Stoddard or others I guess remains to be seen…
It was great to have a response from an Oxfam representative and media officer for the famine response, Jo Harrison:
Media work plays a huge part in not only telling stories of the people who are effected by the drought, but also in terms of fundraising. Our advertising value equivalent in July alone for east Africa coverage was over £13million. And the money raised from the appeal has raised a record breaking amount, helping the lives of over 3 million people in the HORN region
We decided to work with Alejandro towards the end of last year. A majority of coverage of the crisis came in July when parts of Somalia were declared famine zones. This is where 4 out of every 10,000 people are dying each day.
The public respond when a crisis is in the news but unfortunately the stories, as they always do in emergency situations, drop off the news agenda. Alejandro’s work for us, depicted a new and very relevant way to tell the story of the people in the HORN and a starting point for discussing the future.
I would agree with some of the points raised that we as a society have become desensitised to images. You may be interested to know that Oxfam runs a strict photographic policy where our images must depict hope, dignity and a realisation that change can happen. We are not about flies in the eyes of small children. I am glad that you noticed a sense of dignity within these images. These are remarkably resilient people.
Getting people out of poverty in a dignified and self-fulfilling way is at the heart of Oxfam’s work. For example, wherever possible we do not give out food donations- except in extreme circumstances where food is not available. Instead, we give temporary cash grants. This prevents the local economy from collapse, gives people freedom of choice and in some cases promotes enterprise. In another example, in Senegal, we operate a clothing enterprise. Clothes that are deemed unsuitable for Oxfam shops in the UK (usually light summerware and bras) are sold to Senegalese market traders at a reasonable rate. This provides jobs to the local community and generates further income for projects in West Africa.
It may also be worth noting that these images are not the end or indeed the beginning of the story. There are a number of images by other photographers shedding light on the emergency operation at work. As with all narratives sometimes you have to set the scene as well as show the potential ending (the solutions)
I hope that Alejandros pictures have shed light on the difficulty of the situation that the people in Turkana face, but I also hope along with that, that their reliance will also inspire and promote discussion on how poverty can be overcome. It is of course, a huge debate, and one that Oxfam is working on tirelessly.
In 2008 and 2009, Oxfam worked with celebrity photographer Rankin on a photo project in the war-torn eastern provinces of the Democratic Republic of Congo. The result is a book of images, “We are Congo,” that ‘reveals the humanity of people caught in a brutal war and the devastating disease and malnutrition it has spawned.’ Within his book he used two sets of images the first he took, the second he allowed the locals to shoot their own.
I wanted my portraits to do something different. The West has been anesthetized to traditional pictures of disaster zones. My style of portraiture is always about bringing people out of themselves, getting them to share something. I chose to photograph the people against a stark white background instead of in their physical environment. The expressions in their eyes and on their faces—their humanity—was what I wanted people to notice and relate to.
It didn’t seem morally or politically right to just go and take pictures. So I decided to put on a show in the refugee camp, and give the people prints of their portraits. Give them something back. It was incredible. One guy said to me, ‘This photograph is amazing. I wanted to let you know that I will use it on my coffin when I die.’ No-one has ever said anything so moving to me.
I was inspired to return to the DRC in October 2009. I didn’t want to do the same thing as I had done the year before and, as on my first trip, I felt that it was important and right to give something back. So this time I held photographic workshops. I gave out cameras so that the people could have authorship over their own images—show us what was important in their lives. The collection of shots from my second trip builds on those from the first one, but focuses on the relationships that bind people to each other—a mother’s love for her child, a husband’s love for his wife, two friends. The basic, beautiful business of life.
I hope that these photographs can aid understanding. They are neither ugly images of brutality, nor sentimental images of suffering. The world needs a more sustainable form of imagery that, instead of encouraging pity and powerlessness, promotes understanding, connection, and ultimately action. It’s about making people accessible to each other.
It was good to see that local people were given the chance to represent themselves, although I found it difficult to track down further information on this. This project raised £1 million for Oxfam.
Zarina Bhimji is of Indian descent, and left Uganda at the age of 11 in 1974 due to the policies, and subsequent expulsions of Ugandan Asians by Idi Amin. Bhimji uses her experiences of her families deportation in her work.
The Tate wrote about her work:
Bhimji’s photographs capture human traces in landscape and architecture. Walls are a recurring motif, attracting her through their absorption of history as they become a record of those who built, lived within and ultimately abandoned them. Despite a conspicuous absence of the body, the photographs emit a human presence. Reference to it is sometimes explicit – a row of guns awaiting use in Illegal Sleep, yet sometimes only implied – the hanging, disconnected and electrical wires in my Burnt my heart …
Bhimji captures her sites with relentless formal concerns intended to convey qualities of universal human emotion and existence – grief, longing, love and hope. Concrete places become abstract sentiments as the physical rhythms of landscape and architecture become psychological
and she herself has said:
I have big questions about what happened in Uganda – the exterminations and erasures – as well as in places like Rwanda and Kosovo. But history is a complex and ambiguous process, and I think that it would narrow the meaning of my work to put it solely in that context. Instead, I like viewers to decide for themselves.
… a photograph cannot give you concrete information, which is why I’m more interested in tone and composition.
Although not directly linked to the topic of famine, it was interesting to see how she represented a narrative, so much about people and history, without including figures within her images, and she believes in the limited truths of a photograph, ‘the author is dead’ principle and prefers her audience to tell their own narratives.
An article by Eric Reeves who has been writing about Sudan for many years, it includes many typical and harrowing images of skeletal people in dire need, he was offering to raise funds for the cause through purchases from his Etsy store or provided links to charities if people wished to donate directly. He obviously believed these ‘negative’ images were more likely to prompt a response.
It seems flippant for me to make academic comments, or argue the toss about how these people should be represented when so many are in danger of starving to death at this very moment due to climate change or war.
I also agree whole-heartedly with Leonie who stated:
what is miss in this discussion is a connection with the West. In order to not be stifled by the images, or be able to make a significant change that goes beyond making a donation, I think photography and maybe campaigns that are targeted at people in the West should focus much more on how all our lives are intertwined through climate change, capitalism and over-consumption in the West. Instead of only focusing on how people in development countries live and suffer, these campaigns should activate the viewers in the West to not only donate money, but take responsibility for the way they live themselves.
Following on from this, and to end my post I’ll finish with Edith Jungslager who picked up on the message both the photographers and the charities should be attempting to illustrate; that these people ‘are not helpless people, but they need help at this moment.’
Throughout the coursework the issue of compassion fatigue, people’s attitudes and responses to constant images depicting certain disasters – be that war, famine or other tragedies – have been raised. Various organisations as well as photographers and editors gradually became aware that they had to consider a new approach to their work and how it was presented. In September 2005 the exhibition Imaging Famine ‘posed poignant questions of ethical documentary practice.’
An ethical code of documentary practice allows for the imbalance of power that often arises between filmmakers/photographers and both their subjects and their audience to be addressed. It should affirm, among other things, the principle of informed consent for subjects. However, documentary conventions do alter. Along with those alterations, judgments about what compromises trust or violates another’s humanity also change.
We need to consider the effect of using positive versus negative imagery, about images of suffering evoking a response. I have already looked in depth at the photographers involved within the Eight Ways to Change the World project.
Exercise Read the booklet ‘Imaging Famine’ – from The Guardian. Do some research across printed and on-line media and find examples that either illustrate or challenge the issues highlighted in the document.
The catalogue sets the scene by discussing the press coverage of the Ethiopian famine disaster; pinpointing the watershed moment in October with the 1984 BBC TV report from Korem in Ethiopia, filmed by Mohamed Amin and reported by Michael Buerk. In fact, the consequences of how the crisis was perceived in Europe via such imagery was investigated by a United Nations organisation instigating new codes of practice for the use of NGO imagery.
My initial response was to not read the text but to look at the images contained within the booklet. What was my immediate response? What did I see? What did I read into them?
The opening image taken by Paul Lowe in Somalia was very telling; a starving child surrounded by 4 white photographers all hoping to get a ‘scoop’. They closely resembled the vultures from a later image; picking the bones of opportunity, survival of the fittest and seemingly more concerned about themselves than the child. That may be totally inaccurate, they may have sent funds to help the aid agencies, they may have transported struggling victims, but going on stories brought back this didn’t happen that often.
Not that I am overly criticising them, the reporters, film-makers and photographers had and have a role to play, stories need to be told if we are to help, not everything can be solved by throwing cash at it. Politics plays an important role in every event and, if images are to have an impact, those images have to be made. I can understand how some photographers felt, and feel, guilt at getting into an air-conditioned 4×4, staying in a 5 star hotel and then flying home to a very comfortable life knowing that they win awards and funding off the back of others’ suffering.
To give two examples of these moral dilemmas and the guilt photographers feel, I can cite Mike Wells who won a World Press Photo Award for the following image.
Taken in Karamoja district, Uganda in April 1980, the contrasting hands of a starving boy and a missionary spoke louder than any world leader and any news story about the famine in Uganda. Karamoja region has the driest climate in Uganda and was prone to droughts. The 1980 famine in there where 21% of the population (and 60% of the infants) died was one of the worst in history. The worst recorded famine was the great Finn famine (1696), which killed a third of the population.The photographer Mike Wells, who would later win the World Press Photo Award for this photo, admitted that he was ashamed to take the photo. The same publication that sat on his picture for five months without publishing it entered it into a competition. He was embarrassed to win as he never entered the competition himself, and was against winning prizes with pictures of people starving to death.
Another photographer who faced a barrage of criticism was Kevin Carter, over his image of a little girl being stalked by a vulture. In March 1993 Carter was in Sudan near the village of Ayod. There he came across a girl who had stopped to rest on her way to a United Nations feeding centre; a vulture had landed nearby. Carter waited for twenty minutes until the vulture was close enough, positioned himself for the best possible image and only then chased the vulture away.
The photograph was sold to The New York Times where it appeared for the first time on March 26, 1993. Practically overnight hundreds of people contacted the newspaper to ask whether the child had survived, leading the newspaper to run a special editor’s note saying the girl had enough strength to walk away from the vulture, but that her ultimate fate was unknown. Because of this, Carter was bombarded with questions about why he did not help the girl, and only used her to take a photograph.“The man adjusting his lens to take just the right frame of her suffering, might just as well be a predator, another vulture on the scene”
What is never made that clear is that Carter was working in a time when photojournalists were told not to touch famine victims for fear of spreading disease, nor that her parents were close by taking food aid from a plane.
Carter won a Pulitzer for his image, but the darkness of that bright day never lifted from him. In July 1994 he took his own life, writing, “I am haunted by the vivid memories of killings & corpses & anger & pain.”
As a separate note Kevin Carter, was the first to capture a public execution by ‘necklacing’ in South Africa in the mid-1980’s and questioned cause and effect of the media asking: ‘The question that still haunts me is ‘would those people have been necklaced, if there was no media coverage?’
These images are nothing new, history has revealed a morbid fascination of death and disaster, the oldest image in this article being published in 1876 of a famine in Madras by a Captain Hooper. Earlier images were posed and subjects arranged so that their plight was obvious yet a code of decency was adhered to; no naked flesh or obvious genitalia on display. However, it is worrying to note that some of the subjects were tied/propped up so they could be posed properly?!? Dignity does not just mean covering up or cropping out various body parts.
In 1901 an unknown photographer took a still in Allahabad of a pile of emaciated bodies, the scale of the crisis meaning that the value of human life and the level of dignity which their remains received was scant; this is still echoed in the mass graves found today in troubled spots throughout the world. These images still have a power to shock and raise sympathy and concern, even if they have become more prevalent. Whilst these stark images are created to raise awareness and financial aid for these people, is there a compromise of dignity which undermines their value? There is most certainly a moral obligation to portray the truth and they should not merely sensationalise.
We still have to ask, because they effect us on an emotional level and occasionally stir enough people to act in order to resolve issues, should some of these images be shown? Or shown in a different way?
I came across a blog post written by photojournalist Barry Malone called Me and the man with the i-pad. It is worth reading, it sums up the dilemmas and distaste he feels every time he has to cover a human disaster. He is angry that the governments and aid agencies know these things are coming, yet are either powerless to do anything, or choose to do nothing to prevent it. He questions how he acts, how he feels he should act, or does he even really know how he should act, if what he does is ultimately right? Does he treat people with the dignity they deserve?
Some journalists leaned down over the mothers to talk to them, some stuck cameras inches from their faces. I stood further away when taking the photos, I sat down in the dirt to interview people. I thought I was better, but I wasn’t. I was just more conceited.
Part of me felt bad for publishing the photo of the man with the iPad. Because he was a good person doing his job. And because we are the same.He comes with an iPad, I come with a notebook.Both of us steal dignity and neither of us belong.
More contemporary photographs seem to depict individuals, mainly children, or parents with children, the elderly, in fact those highlighted in my earlier posts that are considered to be the weaker members of society.
Whilst Rankin’s (working name of John Rankin Waddell) images don’t follow this trend I still question the hands out holding food pose….. (totally off topic his wife is actress Kate Hardie, whose stage name is derived from those of both her parents: Jean Hart and comedian turned naturalist Bill Oddie)
Imagery for charity campaigns has traditionally been caught between a Rock and a Hard Place. The Rock being a lack of decent funds for a campaign which has lead to ‘shock’ imagery in search of publicity. The Hard Place is the challenge of creating imagery that neither feeds stereotypes nor is so emotionally gutting it turns away potential givers because it makes them feel any contribution is pointless.Alejandro Chaskielberg, Sony’s 2011 World Photographer of the year, avoids both in his Photos exhibition for Oxfam opening today at Southbank’s OXO Gallery.
Or are these too artistic?
Mary Atabo’s family used to own over 100 goats but now have only 10 due to the drought. Their family also used to have a shop but it was destroyed in recent flash flooding, now they survive solely on releif food and by selling charchoal. Oxfam carried out food distributions in Kaalatum village for 6 months and will start again next month.
Elisabeth Ekatapan and her eight children live in the village of Natoo in Northern Turkana near Lokitaung. Elisabeth’s husband died from sickness, leaving her soley responsible for bringing up her children. “I appreciate pastoralism but animals are not sustainable anymore. When there is drought your animals die and you are left with nothing. If I could make one thing happen it would be to have my own business and earn money.” says Elisabeth
Then we have the cause célèbre, with famous people ready and willing to promote certain fund-raising events or charities. The cynical part of me wonders if this is done to promote themselves as much as the charity, many famous characters donate or help anonymously, why don’t all? But sadly, I realise the general public are more likely to help out too if something is endorsed by their favourite footballer, film-star, singer or comedian. The Guardian ran an article on the pros and cons of celebrity endorsement in 2011.
The catalogue has several topical sections which hopefully I have covered above or below:
What is the appeal
Positive versus negative
The nature of photojournalism
Geographies of death and disaster
Picture, celebrities and policy
Stereotypes, icons and symbols
Time and place
Working my way through it, I shall share some of my observations…
The watershed report at the time met with mixed reaction, some thought it brilliant, so it was beamed around the world, whilst another producer had the response of ‘not more starving Africans,’ revealing the truth of not pleasing all the people all of the time and underlining the problem of compassion fatigue.
The impact of LiveAid etc created a stereotype of African nations lumping them altogether as a ‘single impoverished place.’ Charity appeals tended to rely on these images for fund-raising appeals. The type of image used does seem to depend on if the charity is responding to a sudden disaster or a long term project. Sudden disasters show the more harrowing or emotional images whereas the long-term projects portray the positive and uplifting.
Compare the Water Aid campaign to the Christian Aid Syrian Refugee Appeal and others.
I noted with interest that the same image had been used but flipped for the Christian Aid poster. All of them still showing the ‘weaker’ section of society. Don’t grown men and teens also suffer? Can charity appeal images go to far?
It always seems very sad to me, yet indicative of human behaviour that it is always the negative images that gain more attention. Although a photographer may balk at taking and showing certain photographs they are usually the most honest and representative images during a disaster. May be more needs to be done to emphasise these images are of a select area at a select time and do not represent an entire country or continent.
As with the previous articles by Houghton and Kaplan, the words that accompany the images are just as important. Journalists/editors can be as much to blame for the consequences when they use a certain rhetoric or lexical set. Even the catalogue acknowledges that an image without text or a caption is ‘arguably purely aesthetic…shot of clear meaning and not photo-journalism at all.’
Very topical at the moment is the spate of terrorist attacks in the UK. Minutes silences have been held for the victims in Manchester and London. Yet major incidents occur throughout the world all the time and we don’t seem to bat an eyelid unless a British citizen is involved. With an ever shrinking world this may be less so, but sadly I don’t think so. Do we really need to have a break down of the nationalities every time there is a plane crash or a suicide bombing? The catalogue cites Susan Moeller who stated ‘One dead fireman in Brooklyn is worth five English Bobbies, who are worth 50 Arabs, who are worth 500 Africans.’ The reporting of far-flung places may not hit the main stream, but with Facebook, twitter et al local residents and more local photographers are on the scene to show what is happening at any given moment in time across the globe.
Possibly this is the general way forward, with using more indigenous photographers who know the people, the area, the politics and would offer a more balanced viewpoint. Would the bias tip in the other direction, would they be under political constraint to be less honest? Both situations have different problems.
Examples given are photographs by Chris Keulen who although not indigenous captured The Tour du Senegal amongst other positive series of Africa, and Petterik Wiggers who hails from the Netherlands but has been photographing Africa for over 20 years.
However, since then more African photographers have come into the limelight and are being talked about and publicised. Even more well established African photographers are becoming known outside the field of photography.
Sir Bob Geldof is cited in the text as he was another influenced by the images he saw but rather than compassion he felt outrage, just as Gilles Peress was inspired to capture his images with no political agenda, just wanting to show the stark reality of what is happening and his despair that the world stood back watching.
Has anything changed from the 1992 Guardian image of a ‘stricken Somali town’
to the 2011 famine?
Geldof is just one in a long line of celebrities to get involved in charity work, we have Comic Relief, Children in Need to name a few highly publicised events. Is it right that the many are entertained to raise funds for the suffering? The funds are much-needed, but is this just voyeurism under another name? How many viewers watch the sketches and go to make a cuppa when the taped ‘fact files’ are shown? An interesting article on philanthropy can be read here.
We recognise television as important in the respect of fund-raising whilst documentaries and news reports keep us up to date with events around the world, but what is the impact of new technology and digital techniques? Everything is so instant and disposable these days, a click or a swipe and the image is gone. We are asked: ‘If this is the future, what can be learned from advertisers who have mastered the art of triggering an emotional response through visual metaphors?’
So where lies responsibility? As covered earlier in this post some photographers feel guilt, others try to think of doing a job and moving on. Although not famine based there was some discussion over the photographs of Aylan Kurdi, the drowned Syrian refugee boy, whilst it may have impacted upon policy have we kept our word and welcomed many refugees? Have we done anything to stop the war? His father, although he thinks it was right to publish the images, does not think anything has changed.
Ultimately the question of ethics is a very important one. Who draws the lines? Who decides to cross them? Photographers don’t always have ultimate control over how their images are published and what text accompanies them, but they are responsible for pressing the shutter and their actions before, during and after. I can only strive to apply my own moral compass in the basic situations I face.
In the next exercise we are directed to read two separate articles, one by Jonathan Kaplan the other by Max Houghton.
Jonathan KaplanJonathan Kaplan is a battlefield surgeon who is also a journalist, speaker and documentary film-maker. His first book The Dressing Station introduced his work as an air ambulance doctor, battlefield surgeon and ship’s medical officer.He has written two books on his varied experiences: The Dressing Station, won both the Alan Paton Award and the SA Bookseller’s Award. Contact Wounds, ‘describes his attempt to find his place in a world in a time of instability and war, and the way in which his qualifications in trauma and uncertainty have made him a specialist in this century’s changed requirements.’Max Houghton Max Houghton has been writing on, for, with and about photographs since 2001, specialising in contemporary documentary photography. She secured her first book contract with Thames and Hudson for Firecrackers: Women in Photography. A senior lecturer in photography at London College of Communication Max is a qualified journalist writing for The Guardian amongst others. First writing about photographs of the effects of Agent Orange in 2001 for foto.com, she eventually became its feature editor and then editor. Her articles are regularly published in FOAM, The Telegraph, Black and White Photography, New Humanist, BJP, LifeForce, BBC, AxisWeb and Photoworks.
Read the articles ‘ Walk the Line’ by Max Houghton ( Foto8, issue 23,pp.143-4) and ‘Imaging War’ by Jonathan Kaplan ( Foto8 ,issue 23,pp.142-3)
Core resources Foto8#23_Kaplan&Houghton.pdf
Write down your reactions to the authors’ arguments.
Imaging War by Jonathan Kaplan
When you work a heck of a lot in the English department you can’t just read an article without noticing how it is written and why – contemplating who the audience is, the English Language techniques employed as well as the structure of the piece. I teach students how to minutely dissect non-fiction articles and to look for features of speech within writing. Most newspaper articles are written to inform, possibly entertain and like most persuasive texts use AFOREST. A Anecdotes F Facts O Opinion R Repetition / Rhetorical questions E Emotive language S Statistics T Triples. When considering my response to Jonathan Kaplan’s arguments I couldn’t help but apply this analysis to how he was putting his points across, as much as what he was saying. And I must say he is a consummate writer, every technique is there combined with a semantic field of horrific vocabulary and then a slice of humour to lighten the tone, as he describes how celebrities can potentially watch a ‘voyage up their own arsehole’, before delving back into the serious tone of the article.
But that’s the how…now onto that serious content…
Kaplan’s opening paragraph advises us how a doctor becomes a surgeon through hours of training and skills, which are part learned and part intuitive. This is the first idea that we can also link to photography: the need to be both physically present and directly involved, and it helps to know your subject intimately in order to do the job well.
Rather than initially discussing the images he takes Kaplan introduces us to the ‘Wound Man’
The earliest known versions of the Wound Man appeared at the turn of the fifteenth century in books on the surgical craft, particularly works from southern Germany associated with the renowned Würzburg surgeon Ortolf von Baierland (died before 1339). Accompanying a text known as the “Wundarznei” (The Surgery), these first Wound Men effectively functioned as a human table of contents for the cures contained within the relevant treatise.
This was later updated to include battle wounds and has been updated constantly over time.
The constant invocation of the Wound Man in surgical treatises for over 300 years shows the capacity of this image to bring the reader into the gruesome yet serious space of the surgical professional. But it also speaks to the ability of the Wound Man to capture the attention of any reader who stumbled across him, even today’s most modern viewers: as his recent reappearance in the NBC TV series Hannibal suggests, the morbid wonder he encapsulates still holds true for viewers today, a medieval image catapulted across time into the twenty-first century.
This ‘morbid wonder’ is still with us, as readily shown by websites such as Rotten.com and by Kaplan’s acknowledgement of editors requesting photographs depicting ‘surgical gore,’ which he regards as ‘medical pornography’ and ‘forensic prurience’, with people gaining lascivious pleasure from them. Although he holds back on the visual gore, Kaplan has no such problems with his written descriptions as he gives graphic details of battlefield injuries caused by bullets, shells and ‘flying pieces of other men.’ Graphic, but I feel necessary to the narrative to ensure people understand the horrors of reality, that war isn’t made anodyne and sanitized . Do we need the images to back him up? I think our own imaginations occasionally do a better (or worse) job.
Photographing his surgeries in B&W for instructional purposes, there is a distinct difference between taking them to educate or for editorial use. Even with these images being factual and not sensationalised, an editor of a book about landmines decided they were too graphic and would detract from the overall message of the publication. Compassion fatigue occurs in certain circumstances where people switch off. The same can happen with gruesome images; people don’t want to see these types of images and close a book or flick a channel.
Kaplan ends his piece with a statement that could also be a question, and one that needs to be addressed, what kind of images of the human body are considered suitable for publication?
Walk the Line by Max Houghton
Whereas Kaplan ends on a question of ethics Houghton opens with a similar point: ‘which images are fit for publication on the grounds of taste?’
As a co-editor this is a dilemma she faces on a regular basis. However, ethics seem to be on a sliding scale dependent on the audience, the examples Houghton gives are that ‘dead American soldiers are a no-no for the US press’ whilst dead enemy combatants, even Saddam Hussein’s sons are fair game. However, Houghton like Kaplan, likes to use dramatic language describing them as ‘decapitated.’ Although they were definitely not pretty to look at, with thick lips, cranial and facial wounds, their heads were still firmly attached to their bodies. Not that that made them any less dead or exploited, but in the interest of factual reporting and the embellishment by the press, I thought I’d point out that photographers aren’t the only ones who could be accused of being creative…this happens often enough for Susan Sontag to point out ‘the quality of feeling , including moral outrage , that people can muster in response to photographs of the oppressed , the exploited , the starving , and the massacred also depends on the degree of their familiarity with these images’ (Sontag. 1979, pg 19)
So important is this question of ethics that there are talks and conferences, for example one entitled, ‘Picturing Atrocity:Reading Photographs in Crisis’ where academics got together to discuss amongst other things, how we sometimes don’t take into consideration the feelings of the families concerned. How long did it take for them to come up with that startling revelation?
Giving examples Houghton cites The Falling Man and Luc Delahaye’s Dead Taliban Soldier. However, after researching further, the identity of the falling man has never really been established and although I have no idea if the Taliban soldier ever was, he was so clearly depicted that any family or friends would be left in no doubt. Both men died due to acts of violence yet I find it quite obscene that the latter is described in more artistic terms and sympathy has only been expressed for the former. Maybe the background stories matter? One was an innocent man who went to work and never came back, another was a fighter and knew the consequences of his life choices, both have families whose feelings need to be taken into account. Again it is the same argument, does the ‘greater good’ the ‘needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few?’ What did any of us gain from either of these images that words could not have conveyed?
Dressed in a khaki uniform, without boots, the corpse has a grace that almost seems posed. The photograph itself looks like it might have been taken by someone floating high above in a balloon. All time seems to have stopped.
Houghton then uses an image by George Phicipas, of a mother bleeding to death in front of her young child after ethnic fighting in Kenya, to demonstrate differing opinions and uses of image. Originally published in black and white by the Daily Telegraph, it was then re-used by The Observer, in full colour, after one of their journalists traced her identity. The photograph was never published in Kenya, with the argument being that it would more than likely inflame already high passions and further fuel the violence. Great, we got told a story, so we can shake our heads and maybe say ‘there but for the grace of god go I.’ We found out who the victim was but should we be making money from these unfortunate circumstances? Did the exposéstop the fighting? Did we learn anything of value apart from making a dead body become a dead person?Did the paper help her husband Jeremiah find justice?
Maiuashia’s insistence on a post-mortem examination provides a get-out for any police investigation and an agony for Jeremiah. The hospital will only perform an autopsy if Jeremiah pays and will not release Grace’s body without one. He has been quoted 5,000 Kenyan shillings, about £40 -Jeremiah is a night watchman and does not have that kind of money. On Thursday, he had to give mortuary officials a bribe of 2,000 shillings to move her from the stacks of white bags in the hot storeroom into a space in one of the four refrigerated units. With 36 as yet unclaimed corpses here, relatives in a similar position to Jeremiah are coming in each day, and as money changes hands so bodies switch positions as everyone desperately tries to preserve the remains of their loved ones to buy time to raise cash for post mortems and funerals.
The piece concludes with the alleged use of people with Downs Syndrome, by Al-Qaeda,as suicide bombers. The resulting images did not prove anything, and most were ‘severed heads’. These were not published, and I’d like to think that even if the facial features had proved the allegations, that these would not have been shown, ever. This would have been exploitation of innocent, vulnerable people in both life and death. I strongly believe that the media need to maintain a moral code when making their editorial decisions, and we as an audience/photographer, need to exercise the same constraint when taking, viewing and sharing images. Even to boycotting certain publications… apparently Liverpool and Manchester have called to boycott the Sun, not due to images but for poor reporting.
Both articles are about journalists using their own moral judgments; although Kaplan seems to take a stance Houghton appears more to give examples and quotes from others, but is never really clear on her position over the examples given.
Moral judgement works up to a certain point, how many of these decisions are profit related who can say, but it is probably a higher priority in some cases. A point also raised in the article is the growing use of social media and despite the press choosing to not display certain images there is very little control over Twitter feeds and Facebook statuses.
There will always be someone who wants to ‘be first’ have the goriest image out there. Sometimes it is just plain stupidity. Otherwise why on earth would the American security services publish sensitive photographs of the Manchester bombing?
Having read both articles and considered deeply my own invisible line, I think my moral compass points in the right direction, although I’ll probably take into consideration more the feelings of the potential audience, especially with the project I am considering for Assignment 3. (yups I wrote this post before completing the assignment for the last section as weather wasn’t being kind to me for outside shoots!)
Sontag ,S.(1979) “On Photography” Penguin Books , London ,England.
In my last post I spoke about several well-known war photographers who are sadly no longer with us. However, one who is, is Don McCullin whose images of the Vietnam war and other more relatively recent conflicts have made for uncomfortable viewing in some instances.
My photographs are stark and they’re not meant to be comfortable to look
at. They’re to make you respond. The only way you are going to get the
message across to people is to shock them. They’re not going to be moved
by a cosy picture…I want you look at my photographs… and go away with
a conscience obligation.
Don McCullin, Shaped by War exhibition, 2010
This seems to be in direct contrast to Gilles Peress who wanted to inform, but not set out to deliberately shock, just allowed the contents of the frame and the viewers personal empathy to inform the level of reaction.
Sontag wrote: ‘There can be no doubt of the intentions of this tenacious, impassioned witness, bringing back his news from hell. He wants to sadden. He means to arouse.'(Sontag 2001)
Back in 2013 I saw Don McCullin give a talk at The Photographer’s Gallery and did a fairly extensive write-up which can be found here. The penultimate paragraph read:
McCullin acknowledges that you can’t go to war without some kind of damage, either physical or mental. He welcomed his injuries so he could acknowledge others suffering. Now he wants some time to himself; you go to war you suffer, he has had 55 years of this and now wants time to himself. “I have been manipulated, and I have in turn manipulated others, by recording their response to suffering and misery. So there is guilt in every direction : guilt because I don’t practice religion, guilt because I was able to walk away, while this man was dying of starvation or being murdered by another man with a gun. And I am tired of guilt, tired of saying to myself : “I didn’t kill that man on that photograph, I didn’t starve that child.” That’s why I want to photograph landscapes and flowers. I am sentencing myself to peace.”
I think one of my favourite photographs is OF him rather than by him. Taken by John Bulmer in Cyprus in 1964, it reveals the side of McCullin that did do something and didn’t just watch.
Don McCullin is running; running as fast as he can. His mouth is open, hair neat and jacket crumpled. In his arms lies an elderly woman, her thick set legs bent over McCullin’s left arm. Her gnarled right fist clenches two long sticks; the wire and trees blur in the background. This unlikely couple are fleeing missiles fired into Turkish territory by the Greek army during the 1964 conflict in Cyprus. It’s McCullin’s first war and this now famous war photographer is captured in action in an extraordinary black and white photograph. The previous evening, McCullin had crashed on the spare hotel bed in the room of the photograph’s author, who had then driven them both into battle the following morning; “If I was going to get killed, I thought I might as well take some photographs”. The photographer is John Bulmer.
This was one of the images on display at the Peter Dench Great Britons of Photography exhibition, you never know what gems you can find unless you go look!
Before listening to the interview I wondered if I would discover anything new having heard him speak and read his autobiography. The link wouldn’t work for me, no idea why, but I found it on YouTube! One of the things he said in this interview that struck a chord was , ‘I don’t carry my life’s work lightly,’ which suggested to me that he did consider the ethics of his actions and the consequences. Although interesting it did cover much of the ground I have read in other interviews.
We are asked to consider ‘ethical practice,’ both our own and that of other photographers. McCullin admits that, on occasion, people had the right to be angry with him photographing them whilst under duress, of making a story out of their misfortunes. However. he is also a strong believer in getting images out there to implement change and to tell important stories. In a different interview McCullin did comment that he no longer takes photographs that would not implement change or tell a new story. This followed his work in Syria.
So what are the consequences of such images? The examples given by Susan Sontag in Regarding the Pain of Others, were that photographs of calamities can trigger opposing reactions, people will either call for peace or wish to exact revenge, or even be reduced to apathetic ‘bemused awareness’ of atrocities as they gradually become facts of life. ‘Compassion fatigue’ (Sontag 1977) was touched upon earlier when talking about the FSA and charitable campaigns but it can be equally applied to images of conflict. Sontag reminds us that over-exposure to gratuitous images of death and destruction does indeed have a ‘numbing, desensitising effect on the viewer.’
More food for thought for when producing images, be authoritative, reflective, consider the ethics, don’t labour the point and try to be different….I think I’ll put my camera back in its bag!
Gilles Peress was born December 29, 1946 in France and grew up in Paris with his mother, an orthodox Christian from the Middle East, and his father, who was of Jewish and Georgian descent. Starting out, it is possible that his background sparked his interest in photographing the consequences of conflict, political or otherwise, with one of his first projects being on Turkish immigrant workers in West Germany, and the documentation of the European policy to import cheap labour from the third world.
Further research revealed that it was his educational background in politics and philosophy that drove his initial motivation, both to take up photography and the subject matter he captured, not due to it inspiring him, but more to do with the gap between political words and political reality. Peress has also documented events in Northern Ireland, Lebanon, Palestine, Iran, the Balkans, Rwanda, the U.S., Afghanistan and Iraq. One of his projects, Hate Thy Brother, ‘looks at intolerance and the re-emergence of nationalism throughout the world and its consequences.’ Now a Magnum photographer I love the quote on his profile page:
I don’t care so much anymore about ‘good photography’; I am gathering evidence for history
In Farewell to Bosnia, a body of work that we are directed to in the course work, Peress is said to bear ‘testimony to the brutality and devastation of the 1990’s Balkan conflict.’
Here starts the curse of history, an illness that may not be so personal anymore. It may be a very European disease, after all, with a double-edged nature: you are damned if you remember – condemned to re-live, re-enact the images of your fathers; you are damned if you don’t – condemned to repeat their hypocrisy.
The gaze…what is ‘the gaze’ A definition of the broad term is:
To gaze is to look steadily and intently at something, especially at that which excites admiration, curiosity, or interest: to gaze at scenery, at a scientific experiment.To stare is to gaze with eyes wide open, as from surprise, wonder, alarm, stupidity, or impertinence: to stare disbelievingly or rudely.
Other definitions or ideas can be taken from the term popularized by psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan, and the growing awareness and attached anxiety that develops when a person realises that they can be viewed. The psychological effect, Lacan argues, is that the subject loses a degree of autonomy upon realizing that he or she is a visible object. This concept is tied to his theory of the mirror stage, in which an infant child, viewing themselves in a mirror, realizes that he/she has an external appearance.
A certain tribe in Alaska, the Koyukon, have their own thoughts about visibility and therefore ‘the gaze’. The Koyukon:
live in a world that watches, in a forest of eyes. A person moving through nature…is never truly alone. The surroundings are aware, sensate, personified. They feel. They can be offended. And they must, at every moment, be treated with proper respect.
Do we as photographers respect all our subjects and the way we view, or portray them?
Read the article The Photograph as an Intersection of Gazes: The Example of National Geographic by Catherine Lutz and Jane Collins.
In what ways does the idea of the gaze apply to your photography? What are the implications of this for your practice? Write a short reflective commentary in your learning log.
The thing is, if a lot of this is new my commentaries are never that short, or observations are tucked in with the analysis of the text…
To be able to answer the questions posed here I needed to fully comprehend what ‘the gaze’ is all about, do I apply it to my photography? Before ploughing through this lengthy essay my gut feeling is that to a certain extent I do use ‘gaze’: my own ideas of what I want to project in the frame, the personal baggage I bring, the signified and symbols I try to include, how I edit images after the event, the narrative I want to tell, do I want my subjects to be aware or candid, what mood do I want to capture? These are questions I ask as I shoot. In the past I have taken photographs of my, then much younger children, from behind, rather than a direct gaze. This was to mix up the images, give a different mood so even before considering the implications I do and have employed various guises, but have I ever thought about this politically or ethically? Beyond what I would deem unacceptable due to my own morality, no, I guess I haven’t really.
Lutz and Collins open their essay by advising us of the cultural importance of the National Geographic, its over reliance on ‘Third World scenes’ and ‘legitimacy as a scientific institution …that…relates to the history and structure of the society that has developed’ and in turn, simply put, how we ‘gaze’ at others – as seen through the eyes of this particular magazine and applying it to society as a whole.
From a standpoint of Westerners (in particular the USA) and non-Westerners they outline and dissect 7 different aspects of ‘the gaze.’ Despite this very narrow sample, and the publication date of 1991, I think that these different aspects are still relevant :
The photographer’s gaze
The institutional gaze
The reader’s gaze
The non-Western subject’s gaze
The explicit Westerner’s gaze
The gaze returned or refracted by mirrors or cameras
The academic gaze
The ‘gaze’ links into objectification, both of the photograph and the subject, and in most of the examples given, relates to the objectification of the non-Western person, how we ‘look’ – our differences, the perception of difference and how accentuating that difference is either productive or counter-productive, depending on your point of view. There is an emphasis on considering gender and ethnicity.
Is the gaze ‘an act of mastery’? (Williams 1987) Lutz and Collins’ essay was published in 1991 when most academic writing was still very patriarchal, is the gaze still considered to be masculine? Is how I view things that indoctrinated? In some ways I believe it must be. The magazines we view, films we watch, books we read all influence our thinking and if never challenged or informed of another way, how are we to know better?
Gradually, society is looking at things in a different way, or trying to at least. The Feminist Avant-Garde is one example, A Mighty Girl is another, there are articles highlighting women within the field of art and how women should strive to forge a career in photography. These are a small example of how society is attempting to alter one aspect of how we view, look at and ‘gaze’; trying to overcome Berger’s ideas of contemporary ideology, that men are doers whilst women are passive (1972). There are many more articles aimed at other sections of society, but that would be an entirely different post…the important point is, as Lutz and Collins remind us, of ‘the position of the spectator…to enhance or articulate the power of the observer over the observed.’ Welcome back Foucault with a bit of Lacan thrown in for good measure!
The National Geographic can be labelled as elitist and colonial, with editors who were at the time of writing ‘overwhelmingly white and male,’ how much influence did they have on educating people’s gaze or did they merely support pre-exisiting ideas of the ‘Other’? (Lacan 1981, p.84)
As with many things, we are not just one person, we have multiple roles and approach situations depending on what hat we are wearing at the time; am I being a daughter, a mother, a lover, an employee, is it a sensible day or a silly one? Just as these roles influence my mood and approach to life, they will also affect my gaze when both looking at, and taking photographs. As stated in this essay there are many interpretations of a photograph which centre around ‘intimacy, pleasure, scrutiny, confrontation and power.’
Let us look to these gazes…
The photographer’s gaze
Fairly obvious and straight forward, the argument that the photographer makes subjective decisions when capturing an image, over position, subject matter, vantage point, depth of field, cropping, colour et al. These decisions influence the readers gaze with the ‘camera[s] eye…a conduit for the magazine reader’s look.’ I particularly like the example given here of a Venezuelan miner selling his diamonds and how vantage point and gaze has been used to construct a certain narrative.
The institutional gaze
In this instance the magazine’s gaze, using the National Geographic as the prime example. Here Lutz and Collins discuss the four main processes employed when selecting aspects of the photographer’s gaze: editorial decision to commission articles; the choice of image; magazine layout dictating crop, size, possible digital manipulation and emphasis; the caption which underlines the visual reading/understanding. Again, great example of layout given, where photographs of natives from Papua New Guinea in traditional feathered costumes, were interspersed with local bird life to project them as ‘natural creatures.’
The reader’s gaze
This is where it becomes slightly more complex…
<opens door…welcomes in Barthes> who stated: the ‘ photograph is not only perceived…it is read…by a public that consumes it to a traditional stock of signs.’ (1977, p.19) re-iterating that our baggage, previous knowledge and the semiotics within an image influence our interpretation. The reader was also found to be slightly more discerning; the magazine would fail in its potential message if they found the images jarring, unnatural, off-kilter or re-touched. Viewers also ask questions beyond the frame, some fairly obvious such as the examples given: what are those people in the background doing? What is going on outside the picture frame?
These further complications are acknowledged by Lutz and Collins who agree that there is not one single reader’s gaze due to a ‘somewhat unique personal, cultural, and political background or set of interests.’
Burgin (1982) wrote about how the reader is forced into following the camera’s eye, of voyeurism, narcissism and surveillance. He believes that the ‘voyeuristic look’ promotes a distance whilst the ‘narcissistic’ promotes the mirror illusion. Do different photographic types alter how we gaze? Do we believe that depiction of the ethnic other relieves ‘the anxiety that the ideal of the other’s gaze and estimation of us provoke’? Do readers hold fast to the idea that by reading high brow magazine they elevate their own status and therefore gaze? Interesting questions that deserve more time on another day. I shall never read another magazine in the same light again! Will it affect how I take and display my photographs? Possibly, may be not, but I’ll probably think harder before pushing the button.
The subject’s gaze
Once again, in this essay they refer to the non-Western subject’s gaze. The authors explore the four main types of response a subject can make:
confront the camera head-on – direct gaze
look at something/someone within the frame
look out of frame/into the distance
The first suggests an acknowledgment of the photographer and reader but is it confrontational or ‘open voyeurism’? Even the academics can’t decide and throw caveats into the ring, how is the gaze returned, what is the context, how does history and culture impact upon interpretation?
There is implied intimacy and a collaborative feel, which juxtaposes the magazines intent to reveal an unmanipulated view. How can a posed portrait be candid and natural? Lutz and Collins’ statistics revealed that ‘weaker’ subjects such as: the elderly, children, women, the poor, natively dressed and the tribal are more likely to directly face the camera, whilst others such as: men, the wealthy, those attired in western dress, the lighter skinned and those more technologically advanced are depicted as looking elsewhere. Are these natural instincts or learned behaviors? Do these figures support Foucault’s disciplinary power theory, or were taken in this way because of it? Although having said that Tagg (1988) informs us that history has shown that a direct gaze is a ‘code of social inferiority’ with the subjects considered to be more civilized turning away from the camera (and previously the artist) making themselves ‘less available.’ It is highly likely that the editorial process within the National Geographic at the time, continued this tradition rather than actively altering it.
The second, where the subject gazes at an object or someone else gives the reader an insight to character and intent, with the example given returning to the Venezuelan miner, looking down at his diamonds the caption strengthens the opinions of the audience: ‘the hard won money usually flies fast in gambling and merry-making at primitive diamond camps.’ I find the language sometimes more condescending than the imagery!
Thirdly, gazing off into the distance – is it a form of defiance? You are not important , I am ignoring you. Or is it a deliberate ploy to reveal a pensive nature, thoughts of the future and therefore ambition and drive? Metz (1985) suggested this may help the reader connect with the subject as they are both ‘outside the frame.’
Lastly, we come to no gaze at all, either due to the insignificant size of the figures within the frame or the subject’s face covered by a mask or veil. Covered faces seem to be mainly representative of women.
It would appear to me that the subjects gaze, no matter which category they fall under, can have multiple readings depending on other factors within the frame such as context, signs and symbols.
The explicit Westerner’s gaze
I found this section quite interesting with regards to the change in power and cultural shift within Western society. This ‘gaze’ seems to have altered the most. When first published the image of the all-conquering hero striding out into the unknown was very popular, adventurers, explorers, mountain-climbers, and scientists from every field or the wealthy indulging in the unfamiliar were depicted alongside the ‘exotic other.’ The differences between them distinct, as they revealed a superiority and higher status.
This depended on who was watching who, were they watching the reactions, were the gazes reciprocated? The implication is that many come across as colonial and slightly condescending.
World events and cultural shifts doomed this style of photograph. International tourism meant more readers travelled to these foreign climes, the Vietnam War had an impact on how the Third World was viewed and how it should be represented, the fight for civil rights gave ‘white people a sense of changing… relations’, and decolonization all played their part. Westerners no longer wanted to be seen to be involved with contentious issues and dangerous places where they lacked control; photographically at least, the Westerner’s gaze withdrew to a ‘safer distance.’
The refracted gaze
This section of the essay deals with the number of photographs in the National Geographic, where a native has been handed a mirror or a camera, presumably for the first time, or where the mirror has been given significance within the frame. The suggestion is that these are tools of ‘self-reflection and surveillance’ and the authors link once more to the idea of the childlike fascination of newly acquired self-awareness and self-reflection and Western superiority. These images have also reduced with the impact of decolonisation, modern technology and the development of the Third World. More and more ‘native photographers’ have come to the fore and are telling their own narratives from their personal perspective. And all to the better in my opinion.
The academic gaze
Described as a ‘sub type’ of the reader’s gaze I am guessing Lutz and Collins put themselves firmly in this camp, alongside anthropologists, where this gaze is used to look at photographic and cultural differences and social relations. The intent is not ‘aesthetic appreciation’ but geared towards the critique of the images. ‘The author is dead’ rings in my ears
My own sentiments echo some of the concluding remarks made by Lutz and Collins as in, ‘the multiplicity of looks in and around any photo is at the root of its ambiguity.’ This is a very complex issue and although the main gazes outlined above can be applied and understood, they do occasionally contradict each other. Despite the contradiction there is definitely a link to how a photographer captures a subject’s gaze, the narrative they wish to convey and the message the reader accepts.
Lutz and Collins’ essay made me aware of myself as a viewer of images, my passivity as a viewer and my responsibility as a photographer. In thinking about my own photography I know I ask subjects to look in a certain direction or pose as if they are engaged in an activity to tell a story or create a mood. Even candid shots are invariably timed to show lost and confused tourists or children having fun. I must admit I never think much of the ethical issues other than not capturing the vulnerable or ‘exotic other’ to demean, give a sense of superiority to the audience or merely because they are a point of interest. I also never consider targeting a different audience beyond my own cultural references. So maybe I’ll never sell migraine pictures to an international magazine lolol.