Photoblogs, Words, And Society Tuesday March 18, 2008
I first discovered so-called photoblogs with a magazine description. Watch the life unfold in photographs of people from Hong Kong, Rome, Paris, London etc, and millions of back street locations near, far, and possibly a few miles from where you live. Something like that. It sounded interesting and a lot of fun. For a year or two I developed a list of favourite photobloggers and viewed them regularly; they’re still in my Firefox favourites. Now I’ve almost forgotten about most of them, so what was that all about? Well in part, it was like so much of the internet: mere hype. The fact is, most photoblogs ultimately fail to sustain your interest. Once the novelty of seeing images from Han of Peking or Brad from New York wears off, you realise it’s just bland photographs of noodle cafes or crowds in Time Square. It is great that we can do this, that the internet facilitates 24/7 galleries for the entire world to see for everyone. The internet is a great medium. But so much of it is bland and dull, like a waiting room magazine you browse before an appointment. Doesn’t matter that it’s on the internet; what matters is that it’s like a boring magazine.
There are exceptions, and I’ll describe one that I like and why I like it. This itself can change though I’ve known about it for three years or so, enough time to evaluate the long term content and what the person has to offer. It varies slightly from what a photoblog typically is, though that’s a subject I don’t want to pursue right now. I once argued with Brandon Stone that a Flickr stream was not a photoblog. He used several criteria to say yes it was, but I think he just had plans to link up with Flickr at his web site. The criteria he used, to summarise, were indeed necessary to define a photoblog but what I said was they were not in themselves sufficient. The debate is probably still archived…
My favourite view is currently the photography and words of David Beckerman. The two go together, words and images; indeed, I recall several interesting things he’s written more than the photographs he’s made. I think this is significant. Whatever can be said about a photograph in terms of its significance, theme or importance, the written word is significantly more fluid, expressive, nuanced and thoughtful. A photograph might say a thousand words, though if it does it’s quite likely thousands more could be written with contrary viewpoints, greater sophistication, and depth. Susan Sontag once wrote that a photograph is a finite source of information, which it is. This partly explains its propagandist potential, built on the selective process of editing out just one moment while discarding others. She said a photograph is tautological, by merely saying ‘this is so’ and nothing more. Completely true: even the most provocative image, dripping with political import or humanitarian outrage, merely says ‘this is so’. The rest, how it might provoke or represent a thematic context, is not actually inherent in the image. Indeed, how images tap into the collective psyche and how and why this is achieved (because it is done deliberately) is a complex and important subject. An image will sometimes symbolise and frame, quite literally, a collective sentiment; one of the most potent examples is the shot by Nick Ut of the Vietnam girl running from napalm: and not only did this encapsulate 1960s public feeling, it also confirmed and galvanised anti war protest:
This link however, needs some examination. The fact that a photograph can tap into collective feeling is complex in terms of both why and how it happens and what its outcome is. The Nick Ut image is a good example, linked to this one which I’ve seen described as a thematic repeat:
I don’t agree that it’s a thematic repeat; that the fact is, while both images did and still do provoke similar anti US and anti war feeling, they are radically different in both context and meaning. In one respect the images do coincide, and indeed had a similar effect; but I think the second built on the precedent of the first in such a way that it had an overlay of propaganda. Nice propaganda, based on the idea that hurting people is not nice, but propaganda all the same because it’s devoid of any broader meaning and yet one was/is assumed. To the extent that it represents any circumstances or conditions beyond itself, it does so generically.
And the important point is this greater depth and meaning is ascertained in the universe of words, existing beyond and outside the immediate effect of an image. The immediate effect of these two examples was both similar and similarly powerful; but that needs examination.
Words then not only amplify, contextualise and deconstruct the photographic image, maybe even contrary to what it conveys visually, but on the internet are – perhaps – also more memorable than photographs. Thus, I recall several things David Beckerman has written over the last few years, pertaining to photography. He mused on how the suspended process of developing film corresponds to the creative movements of the unconscious. That waiting a few hours or a day or two before you see your images is actually a useful constraint compared to the digital instant; that the traditional workflow compares to the poet’s dreams that invigorate and transfigure impressions into well sculpted forms: when he wakes in the morning, he feels ‘inspired’ and writes it down in a flurry of new energy.
I remember several things Mr Beckerman has written, conveying that he is a Photographer – whatever that means – though one part of which is the willingness to invest time, thought and money into your craft. He’s bought Leicas, huge inkjet printers and various stuff, not to satisfy geeky desires but because they are the necessary tools of photography. He doesn’t fetishise cameras etc as people do, he just gets the tools he needs. He’s been doing this for a long time while going out almost every day to take photographs, and trying to make a living from doing so. My time and attention is an investment, which I don’t want to waste on a so-so hobbyist enjoying a new camera then disappearing from the internet after a few months. Duration, and investment, financial or otherwise, are considerations for my internet habits manifesting in both my own work and my appreciation of others.
What prompted me for this extended reflection? Another philosophical snippet from Mr Beckerman, characteristic of his blog. The photograph is interesting in itself, but the comment more so:
Why is it so hard to live in doubt; to live without knowing what it’s all about? Without having opinions about subjects we know nothing about?
Indeed. The elderly man’s attitude is self important and silly, but he represents a subject for philosophical musing: posing a question rather than a prompt for derision, which in conjunction with the photography is a mature and interesting response. It’s an example of what photography theorist Vilem Flusser calls reflective thinking, a mode of discourse where the nature of subjective thought is an embedded paramount feature in any enquiry:
http://www.flusserstudies.net/pag/01/thought-reflection01.pdf
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