Punctum Tuesday September 27, 2005
There are only a handful of philosophical photo theory books, addressing the subject in phenomenological terms. Most photographic theory concerns itself with political issues of class, race, gender, Marxist models of society and other sociological subjects. Roland Barthes’ Camera Lucida fits the philosophical category and while I object to its indulgent and consciously aesthetic style (constructing rhetoric to create an effect, rather than present an idea), it does feature some perceptive philosophical concepts. One of these is his notion of the ‘punctum’ and while I don’t subscribe to his terminology, the premise is useful enough: the part of a photograph constituting its ‘shock’ effect, beyond the superficial cultural concerns, which is very often a small detail. I will use his terminology, not because I like or accept it, but for reasons of necessity when it’s not my intention to examine the terminology here.
At a local photography group I sometimes attend I discussed a photo of Tony Blair, probably quite well known although I’ve never seen it, where the ‘punctum’ is supposedly in the detail of one of his hands. It’s stained with ink, an overlooked detail in relation to an otherwise perfect portrait. It ‘punctures’ the manipulated and ideological message although this political discourse is tiresome and predictable: New Labour spin, Tony Bliar. All political parties have campaigns of spin and psychological manipulation and I see no evidence at all that Labour is especially fond of this; rather, that this idea is a form of public gossip that has become fashionably established, encouraged by the Conservatives, when in fact any promise, goal or plan automatically becomes ‘spin’ when the party fails to deliver it – which is inevitably, an eventual consequence of being in power. Thus this observation demonstrates how the punctum works, although it’s framed within a questionable and superficial context.
Barthes himself identifies small details in images that affected him, and there are further examples in, for example, the work of Cartier-Bresson. In his Lock At Bougival (1955) you see a composition of different gazes, an intersection of layered meanings, that is suddenly enlivened when you notice the gaze of a dog that is directed at you: towards Cartier-Bresson, when he took the photo. Suddenly, you are involved in the scene, engaging with it in visual terms, and the small detail becomes the entrance into its greater significance: the photographic act in relation to social and psychological theatre.
I have a few shots like this myself, like this one taken on a London bridge. On first impression it’s flat and non-involving, then it suddenly changes when you see the man gazing directly at me/the camera. And as with the Cartier-Bresson shot it depicts a network of gazes, this time with direct reference to photography:
It’s difficult to develop or present a (definitive) aesthetic theory of photography and I wouldn’t suggest the punctum is it, but it’s probably useful to include this idea in the general subject. Camera Lucida is an experiment in what Barthes called the “third form” between essay and novel, and although it’s been criticised by Derrida and others (“The Deaths of Roland Barthes,” The Work of Mourning, ed. Pascale-Anne Brault and Michael Naas Chicago, 2001, pp. 31–67), it remains an influential text. Further, if it were to be summarised, the punctum would necessarily emerge as one of its key features: in Barthes’ ruminations on mourning, and with select photographs, he attempts to extract quintessential meaning from images, and from photography itself.
Here’s another example of a punctum – ostensibly, this is a picture of some cute children sitting on a platform – and indeed, much of the enjoyment of this image revolves around that. But then you see the steel drum above their heads, and understand the image in a slightly different way – still cute, but also representing the psychology of the situation and, by association, suggestively changing the meaning of the yellow rope. It’s this punctum I wanted to emphasise by calling the image ‘Unimpressed’:
One final point about the punctum is how Barthes presents it as a personal response, juxtaposed against the general cultural response that has been learned, which in that respect is impossible to formalise in theoretical terms. His personal ‘phenomenology’ in the book is an extended meditation on mourning, in relation to the ambivalence of the personal photo that both captures the formerly living person, and always disappoints with the potency of loss. Yet despite this personal subjectivity, he attempts to construct a rhetorical generalisation for wider photographic theory: his personal feelings become the core of his thesis, emphasising the punctum of personal response, which cannot be generalised or formulated.
The “punctum” (or the “accident”, although not necessarily a bad thing) always works in relation to the “studium” (the commitment or the general intent) of the photograph, and is not always the “shock effect”. It is the aspect of the image that will keep drawing the viewer’s eye—or interest—back into the image, whilst never originally being part of the original intent of the image. Most of the time, the “punctum” is subtle and discreet, but always subjective as defined by how the viewer reads the image.
— prozacgrrl · Jul 15, 10:31 AM · §
I don’t think we disagree. I’m using the term ‘shock’ in a paradoxically subtle sense. That is, not in the sense of something loud, obvious, sharp or – to refer to Barthes – something that “pricks” you; but rather in the sense of a disruption which may or may not carry some violence – ie “shock” as the term tends to be used.
Thus – ‘shock’ in any way in which our expectations are changed, our perceptions altered, or we perceive something ‘new’.
A “prick” – the term Barthes uses, similarly suggests something sharp or ‘shocking’ – but its not quite what Barthes meant on which we both I think agree.
Other than that: yes it’s worth noting what Barthes said re. the compelling interest which draws you into the image, although I’m not sure its always or necessarily true. Consider for example the vast circulation of media images: the news, so called celebrities etc. What provokes interest is how such images anchor and exemplify pre-existing cultural narratives – in which respect they tend towards a) tautology and b) propaganda.
That is – there’s no ‘pricking’, ‘shocking’ or punctum effect there, in the sense of disrupting an expectation or assumption and what draws people back and into such images is more ‘studium’ and self confirmation.
Consider for example media/propaganda images of George Bush – they show him in either theatrical ‘great leader’ terms or ‘friendly nice guy terms’ shaking hands etc or – more likely actually – in buffoon terms as a man with a suspect intellect.
Yes yes yes, we know all that…..
But then – there’s a great image, or rather image taken from a video, showing a boy yawning, rolling his neck and mock clapping just behind Bush when he gives a speech:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YgQt0HTHa-E
It seems to me, this is a kind of 'shock' or punctum image because its so unexpected. It did occur to me that he was a deliberate 'plant' to make Bush look ridiculous - but of course every one of those people close to him has been subject to the most intense security/political scanning: they are, in effect, his team.
— James Lomax · Dec 29, 05:40 PM · §