Over at Crooked Timber, two of their writers, Chris Bertram and Eszter Hargittai, are participating in a photography project. Their posts on the project are interesting. My skills with a camera are not very strong, as witnessed by the majority of the photograph appearing to the right. Actually, I'm quite proud of some, but the vast majority are bland, everyday photos.
Felix Grant, who writes "The Growlery," is a very good photographer, and, incidentally has a personal project very similar to Flickr, the one Chris Bertram references. I'm continually impressed by his eye. He makes the mundane special.
The line that makes me think is in the latest post by Chris Bertram.
... Dorothea Lange’s words “A camera is an instrument that teaches people how to see without a camera”.
Now, when I view a particularly interesting, photograph, I shall wonder which came first, the eye or the camera. Does the eye truly change, acquiring depth and insight, after getting the camera, or was the camera purchased to capture what the eye wants to preserve?
Bertram goes on to say:
But not all of that change in awareness is perceptual. I’ve come to realise just how much petty harassment people suffer for pursuing a fairly innocent hobby. The worst I’ve had to put up with myself is being pestered by a security guard for photographing university buildings. But many people in London get stopped by the police and questioned under terrorism legislation.
That is disturbing. It signals that our society has become so frightened that they are questioned merely for taking photographs. And from that I conclude that the terrorists have won a small battle in the war. I hope that it's only a small battle, and that our society is strong enough not to frighten ourselves to the point that we cannot allow photography.
We desperately need that eye that the camera trains. We need to see more, and allow the camera to train the eye. Without the mental camera, how can we see the injustices, cruelties, and pain? It seems to me imperative that we not close any of our eyes.
As usual, Jim, your piece is provocative. Particularly the last paragraph, "We desperately need that eye that the camera trains. We need to see more, and allow the camera to train the eye. Without the mental camera, how can we see the injustices, cruelties, and pain? It seems to me imperative that we not close any of our eyes."
Several thoughts in response. I guess I can agree that the camera in the hands of one who understands its limitations and use does possibly train, or woujld circumscribe be a better word, the eye of its user, although I'm not at all sure I agree. I guess that on balance, I would hold that the eye of the user is somehow trained to use the camera to its best advantage. This may happen quite by accident as in the case of some pictures I have taken over the years that when viewed later revealed things I do not recall having been aware of at the time of the taking of the picture. In the process, did it train my eye? I don't think so. Rather, it preserved a level of detail I had not been aware of at the time of snapping the shutter.
The camera, after all, does not decide what evidences of "injustices, cruelties, and pain"
it should record. It may catch some of them by accident, but the decision is made by the photographer, not the camera. I do agree with your final sentence. We should not, in any way, limit our ability to see.
Mac
Posted by: Mac | September 18, 2007 at 09:49 AM