Waiting for Summer

Waiting for Summer
Showing posts with label David Campany. Show all posts
Showing posts with label David Campany. Show all posts

Sunday, 28 September 2014

Part One - Photograph as document: Project Two - Photojournalism: Research point - Images of war

One of the research points suggested is to consider whether we believe that images of war are necessary to provoke change and if we agree with Sontag's earlier view that horrific images of war numb viewers' responses.

In my view, images of war don't numb my response.  Over time they become easier to look at, because you become more used to seeing gory details, but they still shock.  And in fact, because you are able to look more easily, the impact is more shocking as you are able to look for longer and take in more detail.  I certainly don't feel compassion fatigue.  In fact, what I am currently feeling is that I wish I was 20 years younger and not tied in to the mortgage system, so that I could be a war journalist and make a contribution towards raising awareness and getting knowledge to the right people.

I personally believe that we don't do enough to prevent war; we happily elect governments that seem willing to send troops into wars that are nothing to do with us, and the problem with sending graphic imagery to news agencies is potentially that it reaches the wrong people.  The politicians making the decisions to sacrifice people's lives should be the ones that are forced to witness these events.

If journalists stop showing the public images of the appalling cruelty and degradation of human life, how else will people know what's going on?  And how else will people be incited to take action?  In my view, the question of action or inaction depends on many factors particular to each individual, for instance, available time, resources, family commitments, access to communications and transport, political motivations and innate compassion.  I don't think you can blame the lack of inaction on the bombardment of images as Ritchin (2014) argues; there are people who do take action and I wonder if they would have done this had the images not existed?  Moreover, is it about the number of images available, or is it that people simply do not look?  And I also don't think you can make a connection with the existence, start and end of wars on photography; wars exist as a result of political, religious, social or ethnic situations.

Last night, I watched the film A Thousand Times Goodnight directed by Eric Poppe about this very topic.  In the film the photographer was accused of sensationalising shocking images, to which she responded that she photographed what she saw, as she saw it.  And of course it is the photographer's skill that makes the images have impact.

To refer to a later point in the course materials, I think that both photographs taken in action and "late" photographs can be effective.   In some cases, late photography can be chilling, but in this case, the photographer most likely has more time to compose a beautiful or striking image than a photographer who is at the scene of a war situation.  Campany (2003) argues that "aftermath" photography has become fashionable (in many photography genres); I think the difficult with late photography is that you are adding an element of interpretation beyond the photographers; the removal of the action and inclusion of the trace only may leave the viewer wondering what has happened.  It is quite possible for such an image to be misinterpreted and therefore to lose its impact (unless there is sufficient text present to guide the reader).  I think there is definitely a place in late photography, but on the subject of war, its purpose should be to illustrate the impact or effect of war, i.e. the longer lasting state, than the immediate cruelty and torture of war.

Websites:
    Bibliography:
    • Poppe, E. (2014) (film) A Thousand Times Goodnight, Arrow Films 
    • Sontag, S. (1979) On Photography, London: Penguin Books Ltd
    • Sontag, S. (2003) Regarding the Pain of Others, London: Penguin Books Ltd

    Monday, 25 August 2014

    Part One - Photograph as document: Project Four - The gallery wall - documentary as art: Research Point - Documentary and art

    This research point is about the work entitled "Sectarian Murders" by Paul Seawright.  These works show images captured by Seawright that show the sites of Sectarian attacks during the 1970s in Belfast, Northern Ireland: "The texts are from newspaper reports at the time and document the murders of innocent civilians, killed for their perceived religion. Reference to Protestant or Catholic background was removed from the text", Seawright (date not known) [accessed 25 August 2014].
    • How does this work challenge the boundaries between documentary and art?
    • What is the core of Seawright's argument and do you agree with him?
    • If we define a piece of documentary photography as art, does this change its meaning?
    In order to answer these questions, it's first essential to understand the meaning of documentary and art (in terms of photography) and where the boundaries are.  Here is my understanding:
    • Documentary photography to me is as close as you can get to a record of reality.  This interpretation is however already slightly ambiguous when you take on board the fact that the photographer is selecting a viewpoint; they are choosing what to include and what to exclude in the frame.  So a documentary photograph is can only ever be one perspective of a situation.  The boundary in this respect is therefore already blurred.  In Imperial War Museums ("IWM") 2013, Seawright talks about the function of editorial images which have to convey their meaning almost immediately because of the speed at which they are looked at.  Street photography is an excellent example of where the boundary between art and documentary is blurred; sure it's a record of reality, but that record is highly contrived by the photographer to give it (in some cases) an almost surreal, and certainly selective, viewpoint.
    • Art photography in my view is everything else, plus it can also include documentary photography in certain contexts.  It is photography where the meaning is slightly ambiguous, where the reader has to dig deeper to understand or derive meaning from the images, and possibly relate back to his or her own experiences in order for the image to say something to you.  In IWM, 2013, Seawright makes the point that with art forms the construction of meaning is done by the person engaging with the art and not by the artist, and I think this is the core of his argument, and on this point I agree with him.  If an image can evoke a reaction that will differ from person to person, i.e. a subjective response beyond the mere receipt of information, that to me is art.
    Looking at the images on the Sectarian Murders website, I find them chilling.   I think particularly the viewpoints the Seawright has chosen contribute to the sense that something hidden and subterfuge has happened.  And I think that this reaction would be even more so for people who are from the area or who have lived through that violence (either the same or similar situations).  But I'm also wondering, if the text wasn't there and the knowledge of history wasn't there, whether the images would have the same impact?  These images depict scenes where children play and people walk their dogs, yet because we know the history behind the images, it conjures up feelings of extreme incongruence, discomfort and disbelief.

    For instance, taking the image from Saturday 9th June 1973 as an example, if you take away the text (and therefore context), this could simply be a lovely picture of a child playing on the swings, and therefore, art?  But with the addition of the text, and also the viewpoint that implies the angle of view that a marksman might have if he/she were hiding waiting to take the shot, or they could also be from the victim's view where they fell or were left, pins the image to history and adds an editorial feel, and therefore, documentary?

    In terms of how this work challenges the boundaries between documentary and art, I think there are two answers:
    • It doesn't, because the boundaries are actually very blurred anyway, or
    • It completely challenges the boundaries because provides a series of record shots or "traces of traces of events" (Campany, 2003) but taken from a subjective viewpoint forcing an emotive reaction by the inclusion of the text and meaning.
    To conclude, the answer is probably that the boundaries are blurred.  These are certainly not journalism or editorial shots - they are much more creative and selective than a simple record of events, and are they neither forensic style photographs of the brutality unlike those of War Porn by Christoph Banguert (Butet-Roch, 2014 pp 62-65).  But they are illustrative of a moment in time and a historical event, but from a highly interpretive perspective involving the engagement of the viewer to derive meaning.

    What is important though is that this piece of work has been created to serve as a memory; to echo the sentiments of Meyerowitz in Campany 2003 about Ground Zero: "I felt if there was no photographic record allowed, then it was history erased", or in Campany's view that documentary photography after the event (or late photography) is used figuratively in contemporary art: "It seems clear that contemporary art has a predilection for the ‘late photograph’. It has become a central trope in its current dialogue with documentary. The works of Willie Doherty, Paul Seawright, Sophie Ristelhueber and Richard Misrach are some of the more interesting examples" (Campany, 2013).

    I can't find any evidence that defining documentary photography as art reduces its meaning (assuming the work is genuine and not contrived), in fact the opposite - I think it increases its meaning.  For instance, Seawright's images are equally meaningful as art and I think possibly more evocative.  We have become used to seeing graphic or shocking images, either in real life news bulletins or through CGI or film special effects.  The lack of graphic or factual information in the Sectarian Murder series delivers a more conceptual impact rather than a journalistic impact, but the meaning is still there.  In fact maybe more so.

    To compare with one of Meyerowitz's Ground Zero images, Five More Found in Howarth et al, 2011, pp 130-131.  To me, this is documentary, but it is also art (it has meaning, composition, form, colour contrast, light, drama) - but the fact that it can be considered art does not make the image have any less meaning; in fact quite the opposite, evoking a bitter/sweet response.  In fact, I think in this case meaning is enhanced by the artistic nature of the image, for one thing it's so beautiful and striking you want to keep looking at it.  My arguments with this image are that it is not street photography and it is therefore not clear on why it was included in Howarth et al, 2011, I see it as documentary produced in a very artistic way.

    Another image with blurred boundaries, also related to the 9/11 attacks in New York in 2001 is one by Melanie Einzig seen at the Cartier Bresson: A Question of Colour Exhibition in 2012 (previously posted in TAOP), Einzig, 2001 in Positive View Foundation, 2013.  The image in question shows a man walking down the road carrying a package with the airstrike happening behind him. This is documenatry, as it shows an event happening in a very matter-of-fact journalistic way, but it is also art - it's street photography - the random occurence of different events, the extraordinary amongst the ordinary, the oblivion by one subject of another, incongruence etc.  But does that make it less shocking?  Probably not.  If anything more shocking as the inclusion of the context of the ordinary makes it look less like move CGI and more that it will have an impact on everyday people.

    To conclude:
    • boundaries between art and documentary are not rigid, they are blurred and overlapping
    • an artistic approach to documentary, or the overlay of art onto a documentary topic can enhance the emotive response
    • the meaning of art depends on the experiences and response of the viewer.

    References