One of the main hurdles in writing the story I’ve been working on is defining how I approach history as a general idea {time}. Defining what it is, and accepting that definition. How do you explain something you cannot see but are living proof of? One of my favorite mantras is “The past is a foreign place,” said to me by one of my professors in college. Fragments of memories and pieces of factual evidence essentially comprise my understanding of history, and it wasn’t until I had this idea for a film that I was able to attribute this convulsion to a physical place. Essentially, a place/destination has slowly become what I interpret history as. Before, the subject had a tendency to simply overlap for me. What I mean by that is I acknowledged time as being a continuous all encompassing thing rather than separated pieces (past, present, future). Who knows really, but it became a constant question when I started to think about time travel and how one could fictionally accomplish that without including a man-made machine. I’ve decided to see time as an organic map rather than this big abstract blanket.
What started this was the idea that each of us carry an individual history and somehow they fit into the larger atlas of time itself. Our ways of acknowledging truths we’ve accumulated our entire lives are so difficult to explain. It’s hard for me, for example, to fully understand a classic family construct that operates as a tightly woven community because my own history doesn’t support it. That’s not to say I don’t want that for my own life, I’ve just been given the blank slate of how I want to build it completely from the ground up rather than the option to work off of existing infrastructure. I used to think that this was depressing and lonely, but I’ve started to feel differently about it.
Growing up, the mother of my best friend and I were very close. Over the developmental years of my adolescence I’d gab about celebrities and makeup around her dinner table, talk with her about the latest gossip plaguing our high school halls. We’d mutually share our ideas about beauty, religion, whatever. She was like a second mother to me, mostly because I spent so much time at her house (I was an Owen Wilson in The Royal Tennebaums sort of fixture). My best friend would always note her approval of me, even long after our own ridiculous teenage-angst fueled falling out had taken place. At our high school graduation, completely estranged from my best friend, this woman came up to me with tears in her eyes and said “I never see you anymore,” along with her congratulations. What was interesting about our relationship was our seemingly mutual connection to constructing and operating a family. She is absolutely nothing like my own mother, they share absolutely none of the same concerns in their everyday lives. She existed in a completely different and (at the time) more appealing family role than my own mom. Mother of five, married to her high school sweetheart, she emitted the cool mom vibe with the best levels of sweet and assertive. I felt like I could talk to her maybe more than my own mom then, and that really showed me a different side of myself. She built her family from the ground up, after a lonely childhood of raising herself with no fathers and dealing with an unstable mother. While the reflection isn’t perfect or note for note, I could see a good deal of that in me and maybe she did too. This is but one piece of shifting how I feel from negative to positive. I’m grateful to have partly grown up knowing someone in that situation, and seeing how she had managed to turn a completely empty home into a full one.
Switching gears, I’ve been thinking about the idea of energy lately, and just how actual our own transmissions really are. Up until this point, I’ve spent a good deal of time trying to stay a balanced neutral among people of the two extremes. This isn’t easy, in fact it’s the most difficult state to be in; indifference. It’s a phase I think everyone goes through at a certain point, maybe it’s what we’ve all felt post major change (in this case, I’ve ended my time with the institution of education). It’s a mode where you can actively acknowledge both parts, both charges of positive and negative but also consider both to be valid. Validity is sometimes a dangerous synonym for quality depending on how you swing it. This is a piece of travel that isn’t really living, it’s a too dismissive state of thinking and while it holds benevolent intentions it is actually a negative imbalance. There are so many reasons to be positive, I’ve found. So many chances to reset despite feeling and knowing great loss, enduring sticky subpar social situations; feeling the absence of magic. This absence is caused by an absence in whatever it is you’re searching for within yourself. What you give is what you receive, not what you attempt or halfass. So much of this period of my life has been about navigating this movement from neutral to positive, numb to living. That’s what it’s been about all along I think, but it’s taken me some time to settle into it. The anxiety of knowing what I want to obtain from life and it’s presence in the future is the source of all of my worry. Because everything is valid, I’ve wanted to do it all, or leave the opportunity open. I’ve thought about transcending human ability often, wishing I could go without sleep to do more, or be able to learn instantaneously. But ultimately, I don’t want to do what I don’t love. I don’t want to be married to convenience or a half assed philosophy of settling/trying. And of course this is easier said than done, but I can at least start to let go of worrying about it and worrying about my next escape. I easily mistake escape for adventure, and vice versa. The two are not so different, easily camouflaged by one another. Ultimately, I’ve decided each wave I make everyday matters on some small scale, and I will never know how that influences everything else around me, so the choices I make might as well be as positive as possible. You reap what you sow.
The concert I witnessed last night, is one for my personal history book. I’ve been a fan of Grizzly Bear for a few years, curiously following their new releases, collaborations, music videos, and more recently the band’s instagrams. They are a band that continually surprises me with their standard of elegance, which is seemingly always maturing as time goes on. Having said that, if you have any interest in a random concert goer experience from the Riviera show in Chicago, Il, by all means read on (it’s just a personal recollection).
The first time I clearly remember stepping into the Riv theater was back in Jr. High, almost ten years ago. I was seeing Muse with a friend and her family, and big city concert going was a celebrated pilgrimage throughout most of my adolescence with this group of people. Being from a cornfield in Central Illinois, a trip to Chicago (and particularly the old Uptown area), was always like walking into a daydream. Most of these trips were well planned, we always had seats in advance, and with that a lot of time to assess our surroundings. There wasn’t the same persistent glow of smart phones illuminating the scene, nor were there even any cameras usually. (In fact, I remember devising elaborate plans to hide disposable cameras beneath tampons and maxi pads in my bag, before I’d even hit puberty.) Most of the time waiting through sound checks was spent talking to one another, and my best friend and I were rather adamant about “keeping it real” in those situations; the fact that we were here, waiting was a privilege, first and foremost. We were of the notion that these people, however popular or talented, were accessible to us in this moment, and nothing could really surpass that.
Returning to the Riviera as a 22 year old college graduate and citizen of the city of Chicago was a strange wave of euphoria. To top off the utter excitement of visiting this beautiful venue again, I was finally getting to see Grizzly Bear- which is one of the few bands of my generation that I’ve truly grown to love since first experiencing them. The theater hadn’t changed a bit, its purple and gold bones still rotting away beneath dim amber light. The dark corridors had maintained a rich but forgotten grandeur, the internal details suffocating below the layers of paint. This was the perfect set for a band like Grizzly Bear, whose aching harmonies have always made me feel as though I’m attending some sort of beautifully arabesque rock sermon.
This experience was a clearly pointed out just how much times have changed, and will continue you to. Moments before Grizzly Bear took the stage, my friend and gifted photographer Stuart Heidmann and I were completely creeping Ed Rostes’s instagram and tagging him in our own personal posts. Remember what I mentioned about accessibility before? In addition to that, Stuart and I took the slightly older youths’ route and forfeited a spot in the pit for comfort and vantage point reasons. We wanted to take in the entire show, not just be close. Directly beneath the balcony is a lower, almost eye level balcony with a bar to lean on (this is also where I usually sit for films in most theaters with stadium seating). Both Stuart and I thought this to be an advantage, and as soon as Grizzly’s breath taking light rig started we were certain of our spot.
As if Grizzly Bear’s harrowing music wasn’t enough of a draw to this tour, the sheer surprise at the jellyfish-organ chandeliers was enough to hush the crowd’s urge to text or update whatever social media until after the show (at least in our neck of the venue). What amazing objects those were, what a lovely compliment to the music. As songs grew somber, the lights made the band appear to be singing at the bottom of the ocean. Or at times when the music was vibrant and complex, the lanterns pulsated like a heart beat; each generation of this lighting arrangement was different and so well timed that it became poetry. Such elegance.
Somewhere in the midst of all of this, a lone crowd surfer made his way to the stage, inspiring giggles from the entire band. “Thanks, crowd surfer guy, that was a first for us.”
{ I’m trying this new attitude towards navigating the internet, and my general use of time. In an attempt to expel some water from my lungs }
I don’t know that I was ever really seeking something of value online, up until very recently when I was searching for an unmarked graveyard in my county but ended up finding something I had been looking for in real life. My father died when I was 10 years old, suddenly, from a heart attack (his second, and after years of poor habits). This is something I tell people about myself, but never at full disclosure as the story doesn’t end or start there and few segments of my recollections of the years surrounding this are pleasant (and they are still too vivid). The event has ultimately routed a large portion of my curiosities, but has also marked me as different for more than half of my life now. This being said, I was attempting to locate an unmarked cemetery I stumbled upon my last visit home.
The lot in question is shrouded in mystery and was perhaps one of the most unsettling discoveries I’ve made dicking around in my Central Illinois adventures. Off of a heavily disguised grass road, through corn fields and woods I found a plot of land marked in small headstones without names. Only numbers and a large gray monument citing “To The Unfortunate of Tazwell County, 1910” indicated the dead that lay hidden there. The origin of this graveyard has been clouded with small town myth and uncertainty for years, and I’m still looking into who is buried there (they were either mentally ill or incredibly ill with tuberculosis, maybe typhoid?). Strangely this cemetery isn’t listed on google maps or any registry I’ve looked into, and weirdly enough it stands less than a quarter mile from a friend’s house- a place I’d spent a good deal of time in and never knew bordered such a place. All of this aside, in searching for some documentation on this place- I found my father’s grave, listed online. With pictures and time stamps.
This is significant to me, and absolutely convoluted to really explain why. I’ve always been good with directions, and visual landmarks. I remembered only generally where my father was buried, and never could remember the name of the cemetery (which coincidentally is the name of the town my grandparents- the next major life chapter- were from). And this is something I’ve always avoided asking my mom, as the event of his death and the turbulent divorce that directly preceded usually conjures up turning stomachs for both of us. And honestly, as shameful as it is, I’ve never truly felt the urge to visit the plot. This feeling was strongly reinstated upon seeing just the image of the cemetery gates on this random grave database website. There are so many harrowing memories attributed to that weird patch of land that I feel no real urge to see it in person again. And that sucks.
It was after this fucking weird turn of events, of what was supposed to be an innocent history inquiry that I realized how strange a place the web is, and how powerful it is with our own strategies of seeking information driving it.
Nondum Cognita Pt.I
Recently I’ve been visiting random old cemeteries, and have a strange fascination with them as a means of research for a story I’m writing about time traveling ghosts (but also time travelers that talk to ghosts). In this story, the main character is faced with having to speak to people not from her era or culture; people that from her time are dead. In an attempt to figure out some idea of what that would possibly be like, I’ve been trying to acquaint myself with total dead strangers. This is not for macabre shock value, or for stirring up paranormal activity (although if that were to happen, it would alter everything I’m doing)- but to process the idea of the waves of human existence that lived before me. I want to make some connection to these humbly lost people, that have been dead so long their grave text is mostly too weathered to read. Somewhere in time and space, they are being lowered into this plot, their loved ones gathered for their departing; and that’s ultimately what fascinates me- the refraction of time that prevents me from seeing this or knowing them as I know myself. It is not the method of funerals and cemeteries that I’m looking to study, but the bizarre disconnect that exists here in time. All I’m physically looking at is a stone marking a body in a box six feet under ground, and I’m aware of that, but a part of me feels obligated to respect the idea of there once being more than what I see.
A counterpart to Nondum Cognita Pt. 1
I know this is all just a symbol of what was, but to me it’s a clear and significant footprint of something bigger than myself. These people were all necessary to my existence, however far removed from my lineage they are. How many of them passed my ancestors on the street, or waited in line with them (or made any miniscule interaction with them)? How many of them were liars, comedians, drunks, or especially eccentric? Did they get everything they wanted, or was that even their concern? What would it be like to hold a conversation with one of them, and would they be dead in that conversation or would I be stepping into their time frame as a foreign being? Obviously I don’t regard any of this as truly possible, but I’m trying to write a story where these constructs can be broken and molded. And it’s mostly to cope (but also mostly because I’m curious about bending time).
I will say, however, that my time spent in random cemeteries has been limited. This type of interaction with the past only goes so far. I know they are dead and in the past. It’s the same feeling I get when inspecting old photographs for an extended period of time; while it tells you a great deal, it really doesn’t tell you shit. It certainly reinforces your own assumptions, and helps you to run further with them, but it does not uncover total truth.
But the same problem exists in motion. I would argue however, that pictures in motion do a much better job of inducing the existential chills (especially when the content is close to home). I say this because it’s an eerie thing to realize you’re seeing something that was never normally meant for you to see before these mediums of photography and film were harnessed. The way your blood relatives, dead long before your birth are strolling through a meadow together, walking in a disturbingly familiar gait as you do, gazing at the camera not knowing you– an alien, would be meeting their gaze more than half a century later through digital means. It’s very funny how that works, and how indescribably comforting yet alarming it was all at once.
But I have every right to inquire, being a member of their family, right?
We’re a dramatic bunch, us visual artists. Photographers especially, in this age. While we are continually bombarded with shorter attention spans urning for more than just image- I think we sometimes easily forget the power of imagery. And forget its multiple uses. What this diversity of usage offers us.
I suppose I should preface my thoughts with a web of underlying thoughts. I am a firm believer in tools, and humans enthusiastically using them. Anyone can learn a new tool and make at least a half way decent attempt at using it to some degree, depending on skill and patience. In other words, I am not one to “put all of my eggs in one basket,” so they say. It’s healthy to cultivate multiple outlets of expression- no matter what your field of interest may be. For instance, my mother is an obstetrics nurse (she helps women give birth, takes care of newborns, in addition to a slew of other highly responsible tasks)- however, she has a deep and terrifying interest in baterial infections (the real nasty Contagion shit that could wipe out our species). This is a fascination she has always harbored, and understands on a level I do not. To the untrained mind, those two fields may seem to be polar opposites, but in reality they are intimately intertwined. They all fall under the diverse blanket of medicine, which encompasses a vast array of freaky shit. Why can’t artists embrace this same mode of thinking when it comes to visual medium? To art as a grand idea? As related to sound, to history, to evolution?
As artists we are amateur everythings- philosophers, historians, actors, anthropologists, scientists. We are a collective that becomes deeply inspired by the most diverse toolbox of ideas; the world. What we each make is a direct line to a huge complex string of interwoven ideas. To ask the question of whether or not photography is dead, almost limits us I feel. Why is this where the conversation has ended up now?
I think perhaps the way photography has been institutionalized and perpetually regarded as one of those “stand back and let the professionals do this, mam/sir” things in our culture, has made this new millennium a total shock to people within the field. Camera phones? Flickr? What people used to pay thousands of dollars for through a professional studio, an unaware patron and lover of selective color filters can hire a soccer mom to create for fifty bucks. Easy. Available. Everywhere. We must deal with this truth, and accept globalization for what it truly means. It means a disconnect from the old world. I’m sorry but we are simply not in the wet collodion age anymore- anyone can learn to do this, and I think the discomfort in what contemporary photography is in large part comes from more people trying their hand at it- and general ignorance from both parties of professional and common class. The fact that we (artists) still separate ourselves so distinctly from the rest of the planet is a clue to where our current state of disarray comes from. We need to get over these notions, as a civilization, let alone as artists. That means a shift in quality, in taste, and lack of patience on both ends of the spectrum, unfortunately. Mass transitions are never easy or without extreme forces of will and wit.
Of course, we know this as a class, we know this is a fundamental truth in our current age. What I suppose I’m trying to nail is the root of why the question is being asked. Why even ask this? If we look at history and truly look at what was going on, the documented image has been important since cavemen. That urge and thought process has been within us since the beginning. Simply because the medium is shifting and evolving we’re going to assume it’s death?
I’m on a serious Terrence Malick kick and I think the final scene of “The New World” is somewhat of an interesting parallel to the question of death at hand. The depiction of culture clash, the main characters’ exploration of foreign places, the idea of a “New World”- and ultimately Christain Bale’s reading to his son regarding “Rebecca’s” death. If you’re not familiar with this film, please watch it- its advertising in 2005, the time of its release, did not do it justice. The way in which Malick uses imagery is astoundingly pensive, and truly could be seen with different eyes every time. I could go on for days about this film, it is a very full experience and inspires a wide range of thought.
Is photography dead? … Far from it. A mind boggling amount of images are being made everyday on this planet- photography is still alive and happening all of the time (and I bet you a million dollars it will continue to remain alive and kicking, long after people that make images today are gone). I think a very important component of figuring out an answer to that question is isolating what exactly the meaning of “photography” is to each of us. Cinema is photography to me- another way to utilize the tool; motion, representation and confirmation of the real documented in time. But then we ask, what is “real,” what is “documentation”? If the question is only pertaining to one narrow field of the medium, which is the straightforward still- I’d still say “no” to the question of death, even though I no longer directly attribute myself with only that aspect of the medium. What we each embark on as artists within this realm is a complicated can of worms- each of us have a different convoluted story to tell, and I think it is safe to say no matter where we are in time we will have a medium to express it. Even if it isn’t as popular as it once may have been. It’s a new world for all of us.
I think maybe the real question is, does the institution have a place to stand in photography’s current space of existence? And to that I can only say that I think it’s simply time to keep pushing and moving forward with what we know.
Even if it were to die, does that mean it’s to be forgotten?
Still from Nancy Davenport's Weekend Campus, 2004.
George Baker states the obvious.. Photography is a medium in CRISIS. Baker, however, urges us not to despair. The medium has only expanded.
In this piece George Baker heavily borrows and references “Sculpture in the Expanded Field,” by Rosalind Krauss. (which I am not familiar)
Krauss
What I basically ascertained from this work was a notion of the necessity of mapping. Let’s lay out ground rules for where we are, let’s navigate through the treacherous swampy aftermath of Post Modernism. Let’s map the un-mappable, up in here. Resist the tradition, embrace the changes.
Everything is out of focus, hell yeah! Way better than wet collodion.
A major issue at hand is photography’s relationship to cinema. Photography essentially only does a fraction of what cinema does when one factors in the alternative accessories. Sound, motion, music, sweet transitions; I’m sure when the first talkies came out more than one medium felt threatened. Where does that leave photography? Like- cool bro, you froze time, big whoop.
Photography has been foreclosed, cashiered, abandoned- out moded technologically and displaced aesthetically.
Proclaims Baker. Funny, didn’t we do that to painting?
Enter Jeff Wall.. blah blah blah, he references a lot of paintings. (I’m totally kidding, I have mad respect for Wall).
The Practice of Everyday (media) Life: From Mass Consumption to Mass Cultural Production?
Lev Manovich addresses broad ideas and analogies within this writing. Within the reading, Manovich breaks down the essence of user produced media and what it means to engage with today’s digital network so intimately and frequently.
With the advent of free software, especially easy tools to personalize and amplfy one’s personality on the web, and a pulsating aybss of connection to tie all of these elements together the digital age has shifted the media’s foundation. Transitioned from media to social media. The entire purpose is to communicate on a more or less constant basis.
Manovich dissects the notion of electronics driving social media; a seemingly obvious declaration. This poses the question, are people’s minds and imaginations heavily influenced by commercial media? Are we colonized by commercial? Yes, and yes.
An example Manovich gives is that of Anime music videos, made by fans. Remixed, revived, edited and reproduced by the user. Reblogging, reposting, and sharing. Another example I can think of is a similar phenominan in which people create music videos using the computer program The Sims as the stage.
Manovich begins to analyze the idea of strategy vs. tactic. A strategy is essentially something concrete; civil engineering for example. Big decisions, the man behind the curtain. The short cuts and paths we decide for ourselves are tactics. A tactic implies that one has to work on material things in order to make them our own, to make them “habitable”.
In our day and age, nothing is handmade anymore.
this has evolved…
to this..
Reminds me of a scene from Alan Ball’s American Beauty.
Kevin Spacey’s character, Lester, is fed up with his highly stressed wife’s concern in a mass produced object. The couch has become what’s important, before human interaction. She is tied to the couch, awarding it meaning for it’s origins and pattern rather than a personal relationship with the craftsmanship. People heavily use objects of strategy.
It has become abundantly obvious that the idea of the remix within contemporary American culture is warmly greeted. We customize our experience, fine tune our commercial loyalties.
Like, we like our Gucci shoes but we love our prada backpacks.
I can’t help but wonder, is this the civil engenieering of our culture? Of people? I suppose it’s a mixed bag of pros and cons. On one hand, we are virtually interconnected. On the other hand, all we have to share with one another is meaningless dribble of commercial endorsement.
The roles of strategies and tactics are interwoven and have been known to switch into one another. The logic of tactics has become the logic of strategies.
Tactic lacks centralized structure and permanance that would enable it to set itself up as a competetor to some other entity.
In addition to this, subcultures have been captilazied on. Things like bohemian fashion, as noted in this painfully beautiful Anthropologie ad- designed to break my heart and dream of the beautiful and exotic what-could-be-my-life-and-livingspace.
Another example of this is Gwen Stefani’s Harajuku inspired fashion line.
We know that companies layout their format to adhere to user provided content. What’s bad about our modes of communication is that they are free, and provide unlimited space for us to customize and reformat our appearance.
What was emphemeral, transient, unmappable, and invisible became permanent, mappable and viewable.
This poses the question: Are we moving toward an age of constant capture? The newer features on facebook subtly suggest that we may be. I can “check in” now, to let people know where I am and who I’m drinking with.
In addition, the site will also organize my friends in my newsfeed based on where they’re getting their coffee. Thanks app, now I’m aware that 5 of my friends purchased some hot beverage at Starbucks. The world is a richer place.
Strategies of social media are constantly changing; fitting, as we are always changing also. Ultimately, social media companies are making money off our personal information. The more page hits, the more profit. We are embarking on the age of tactical creativity; a constant stream of new content that we’ve all but seen before.
The original thought and/or catalyst for creation is all but lost now. We take from other sources, reuse, and redo. Conversations are encouraged to drift off into la la land. This is all amplified and fed steroids by social media. The conversation is kept alive by links. Quantity over quality. We’re allowed to hide behind whichever mask we choose, as the use of tokens is often paired with ambiguity in interaction. The conversation is infinite.
I have to ask, does anyone research anymore? Is this the purpose of an artist residency? Where are we to find the time?
Art after Web 2.0 has taken a swift turn. Artists such as Penelope Umbrico are using found pieces from social media (a la flickr) to construct their images.
This poses the question: Is the meaning of professional irrelevant or simply changing? Do artists partaking in social media have significantly different methods of working? What is the generational gap, and is it growing larger? Of freaking course to all counts.
Seemingly our way, the western way, is catching on worldwide. I have have to ask, why? We’re kind of total assholes, really..
The main point of this article is that professional art by definition is drastically changing and has no special license on creativity and/or innovation. The dynamics are as follows: “its constant innovation, its energy, and its unpredictability.”
Online Photographic Thinking
Evans is ultimately underwhelmed and unimpressed by photography’s presence online. I’m not exactly sure what Evans is proposing for the online presence- it seems to me that perhaps he expects all of the medium’s history to somehow evolve into a super medium with the advent of internet and media in today’s age.
Picture – Jason Evans Shiseido campagin
Fully embracing all of the mass qualiities within the online realm, Evans relates today’s tools and technology as a chance to not be too precious. One important point made by Evans is the fact that individuals armed with DSLRs are now more likely to erase potential greatness before giving it actual consideration. What we see and do not recognize as formal is immediately dismissed as unworthy.
Picture – Awkward stock photos + link
The Daily Nice link
Evans claims that “real beauty is not about perpetuity”
Seemingly those in the business of collecting contemporary art only discuss what they own rather than the content. I have 250 followers on tumblr, I have 800 friends on facebook…
The New Scent link
Evans goes on to claim that analog and digital are merely different sides of the same coin. The science and methods behind photography have vastly evolved since the medium’s dawn- this is no secret to any of us. Do you think anyone in 1920 was bitching about the lack of disease inducing chemistry used wet collodion? Maybe. Maybe there has always been a select group within photography to curse and urge distress toward the new styles and configurations of the technical aspects. But ultimately the answer at the end of the day is, tough shit. This medium moves and evolves, whether you like it or not.
What entices Evans about the interwebs is how huge of an audience it allows for. Truck loads of people can access and revisit websites at any given time, from anywhere. In a way, the internet is kind of like the stock market in the 20’s- it’s wild west and regulations are only going to happen once the top percentile over does it. However, the internet is an invisible elixr. The after effects and reprocussions of those raised on youtube and facebook are in the years to come. Two steps forward, one and a half steps back.
Attached to this article were several responses to Evans’ proclaimation of digital love. AMIR ZAKI basically believes that Evans is thinking a little ahead of himself. Either that, or Evans is an early pioneer of the new culture at hand. Zaki suggests that perhaps we are not there yet- the reasons why Evans finds himself disatisfied by current digital culture and photography’s presence online is because it is simply not the discussion at hand. The art world, like any subculture, has a system. This system is not changed radically overnight and requires time to ferment. One example of why I personally think our culture is not ready for the world in which Evans speaks is the youtube “dislike” button.
IMAGE
Our social platforms leave room for negativity and wildly unrelated comments to stew. Is this the face of a highly evolved and capable digital culture? I think it terribly unlikely. Zaki goes on to state that “organized groups function better than nomads”- meaning that in order for mass change there must be organization.
From there we move to Nicholas Grider’s response to this chain letter of digital jazz. More or less Grider feels as though both Evans and Zaki are concerned with profit more than anything else (there always has to be that guy in the group). Internet is easier, requiring almost no manual labor outside of shooting and digital editing. The current art world, Grider states, is more about individual artists than their work. There is no way to truly police the internet and make a steady organized profit from it- it is too nameless and annoymus. Grider promotes iheartphotograph, a well known blog designed to further the critical understanding and evolution of photography online. The internet is information, and knowledge is power.
David Campany discusses repetition and the notion that most photography and photographers are rewarded brownie points for commitment to the same family of images. There are similar motions within most photo books currently. Campany argues that the sites Evans notes as groundbreaking are essentially the same form of repetition with a different camoflague. Campany then asks if photography is truly able to reflect on the fleeting quality images posses online. How could it, really? Unless the images were moving….
*GIFs
David Weiner seems to be bros with Evans, agreeing and understanding his essay. Weiner points out that this temporary quality in the internet’s use of images is not unlike real life. This format acts somewhat like our brain does, recalling random bits of information through a complex series of paths and memories. But does this type of communication make it difficult to realize what we do know?
Weiner goes on to compare the internet to television, and in some ways I agree. We associate and relate to commercial images most readily. This programming due to commercial colonization has influnced the medium greatly and how we view it. While a site may gain upwards of 20,000 views, it’s more difficult to determine and know how long the site was visited for. In a way, the internet is kind of the grab-shit-I-don’t-need-but-I’m-bored trip to Walmart of image viewing right now, rather than a more intimate day of reading at Barnes and Noble.
Lester Pleasant speaks about what I mentioned previously in my post. Photography will change whether or not we acknowledge it. Pleasant asks if theory will always be out of sync with the practice… I say 1,000 times yes, it will be. That doesn’t mean, however, that historians and curators alike cannot par take in the making of history and its documentation. Pleasant also encourages readers to pay attention to Evans’ call to improve photography’s presence online. Our time and world is full of potential and possibility.
Finally, Penelope Umbrico comments on the entire ordeal. If Umbrico were in a relationship with photography on facebook, their status would be “it’s complicated”. Umbrico discerns that the role of the photographer is to hunt and gather information- and the web surfer has a fixed position of consumption. Both of these groups work together, and share the same world of decpicting otherworldly places and ideas. Umbrico decides that the act of creation is flexible- and both participants in the culture are capable and encouraged to explore all options.
“I view the characteristics inherent in all
tography—appropriation, and by extension
questioning authorship; multiple production, and
by extension questioning uniqueness and individu-
ality; mediation, and by extension questioning
perception and truth; decontextualization; frag-
mentation; ubiquitous dissemination; and the loss
of aura—to have extended into the very essence of
the Web.”
The circulation and future of photography on the web is only a small portion of the equation to Umbrico.
Wall describes the deep connection between photography and liquid in this small excerpt.
“A natural form with its unpredictable contours, is an expression of infinitesimal metamorphoses of quality. Photography seems perfectly adapted for representing this kind of movement or form.”
The necessity for water within the various processes of photography since its birth has ultimately played a role in the medium. Water requires a great deal of control within the process and could ruin just as easily as it could benefit.
This DNA of photography, so to speak, is quickly disappearing with the digital age. With no water needed to create digital photographs, no direct relation, is photography losing its archaic blood? The connection to its past? Wall persists that there is a deep importance within the liquid used to shape and amplify our medium, and perhaps the loss of this quality may change photography in a negative way.
“In photography, the liquids study us, even from a great distance.”
Going in order, Fred Ritchin’s exerpt from After Photography (2009) boldly points out the differences in digital age.
One claim that Ritchin makes is that photography is always evolving and changing. Seemingly an obvious note, however certainly an important point. With the introduction of personal computers, particularly early Machintosh computers, Ritchin claims that this device has led us to feel obligated to surface. Perhaps “obligated” is the wrong word.. attached, entranced, enthralled, inspired by surface. All that matters is essentially what is illuminated in our sleek, updated, roboty rectangles. We can easily disregard what is going on behind this screen, because to put it simply- we live in a “who gives a shit how it works” kind of age.
What is especially enticing about Mac computers, and what used to be my reasoning for distaste in them is their inaccessibility to the inner workings of the machine. Ask most avid computer literate individuals and most will say that the main difference in operating systems (Windows v. Linux v. Mac) is that other software allows you to customize it. By customize I don’t mean what color your talk bubbles on iChat are or what sweet nature picture you chose as your background. Customizable as in, the user has more say and room to decide how the machine will listen to them. This is why I think most people hooked up to the Mac iv hate Windows 7- the software was designed to point out this feature in their operating system. For example, Windows 7 would ask if you wanted it to preform some arbitrary task that you could turn off. We don’t want to be asked, we just want the machine to do it for us, damn it. I’ll admit I have crossed over to the Mac/Dark Side but that is an entirely different story not suitable for this particular blog post.
Anyways. This mode of working is a scary and encouraged simplicity that comes along with the digital age. If your iPhone were to malfunction, would you have any idea how to fix it? No, you wouldn’t, because you’re f**ked. Good luck popping open the sleek little thing without scratching it, and after that be careful not to ruin the hard drive inside. What I’m trying to say is, we have become reliant on the manufacturer instead of becoming armed with more knowledge on how something works. The only reason I can really see for this is money. Apple will make more money if you try to fix something they’ve sold to you yourself, because you have no idea what the hell you’re doing, because you are not encouraged to know what’s behind the curtain. You should really just consider the 4s instead of trying to fix this by yourself. Of course, there are those that are curious and stubborn enough to try and piece together what is wrong with modern tools when something goes wrong, but it’s a lonely community I would say.
This only breeds more and more the idea that computers are smarter than we are. I’ll admit, I am deathly afraid of the new Suri feature on the iPhone that is designed to recall information as a human brain would. One can ask something as cryptic as “where do I put these bodies” and Suri will pull up the 10 closest cemeteries. How long will it take before we forget that we are in control? That we are telling the machine what to do?
How long before we forget what the original idea was? Digital holds no importance to “an original.” We are allowed to redefine space and time as we please. Remix songs already remixed, if you will. We can simulate analog media, but does that even matter anymore? We are virtually allowed to pick up the plot at any point, because anything goes. We are desperate and craving a new succession that we will do anything to get it, and sell it for a bigger turn around. Anything made with a digital medium is yearning for reconstruction. Nothing is static, for it can all be manipulated with an assortment of sophisticated tools. Ritchin states that digital allows us to focus on what lies in between, and beyond. The format is so flexible that we are able to create believable scenes of total fiction. Create things that were not originally there to begin with. Remove pores, change hair color, drop dress sizes- all with a few clicks.
Analog methods were rooted in organic forms; wind, wood, trees (Ritchin). Digital methods are a series of steps, segments and sections. Analog is more of a living thing, the products of which will decompose and change over time. Files may become corrupted, but how big of an issue is that when a copy is regarded as highly as the “original”? As I stated before, digital is designed for reconstruction. We are taking these images in a traditional way as a starting point. Copies of copies, slight differences in each. Weight of the image is not awarded in any one place.
Photography has been a total flirt since it was discovered. Practicing as both functional and as a way to express, the medium has always been capable of both documenting and creating. Now we are looking at some half a trillion odd images a year. Frankly, I’m surprised the number isn’t higher. Ritchin points out that we are not simply just equip with more tools, but this is certainly a wave of evolution. If we were to think of it on a grand evolutionary scale- photography has just discovered fire.
We begin our readings this week with the writing of Howard Winant, race theorist and sociologist- as well as collaborator with Michael Omi (also a sociologist). They work from California (and most likely hang out too).
Winant is rather riled up on the subject of race definition. Winant states that race was once a fixed, unchanging, widely accepted fact, and only recently has such a discrepancy surfaced. [He is writing this in 2003, keep in mind.]
“Today the theory of race has been utterly transformed. The socially constructed status of the concept of race, which I have labeled the racial formation process, is widely recognized, so much so that it is now often conservatives who argue that race is an illusion.”
This racial formation process is the intellectual offspring of Omi and Winant’s minds (most research happening in the 80’s and 90’s). This theory of race essentially transcended preconceived notions on the matter, virtually extracting race as one definable characteristic. While individuals can be physically categorized as their ethnicity, they are also defined by social, economic, and political factors. The theory deconstructs race as both a concept and a concrete. Is it an illusion or is it real?
Winant goes on to say that it’s actually not even that simple. He proceeds to mention Barbara Fields’ article, “Slavery, Race and Ideology in the United States of America.” Fields adheres to race as an ideological construct. It is her opinion that race surfaced to meet an ideological calling of sorts, to make sense of grandiose injustice that claimed land and empires. She goes on to say that race has a life of it’s own and doesn’t give a damn. Race, “ceases to be a historical phenomenon and becomes instead an external motor of history.” The idea of race is not rooted in biological fact, therefore it must be an illusion carrying out ideological work- Winant states. He more or less puts her ideas in a corner as they cancel out contemporary issues of race.
“Why and how did race thinking survive after emancipation? Fields cannot answer, because the very perpetuation of the concept of race is ruled out by her theoretical approach.”
Fields goes on to write about how race is more or less an imagined thought, perpetuated by history repeating and continuing.
“Nothing handed down from the past could keep race alive if we did not constantly reinvent and reritualize it to fit our own terrain. If race lives on today, it can do so only because we continue to verify it, and thus continue to need a social vocabulary that will allow us to make sense, no of what our ancestors did then, but of what we choose to do now.”
Winant sees this logic as a bit of a fallacy. How are we to act if the ideology is embedded within the culture, according to Fields’ words? Would it do more harm than good to forget the concept altogether? Winant regards these notions as kind of common handed drips of racial understanding, as Fields’ work is well known and regarded in the realm of social science. He deconstructs the faults as follows:
1. Despite scientific founding, the idea of “race” is here to stay. With the amount of time humans have had to toy with the notion, it has gained a strong permanence around the entire world.
2. Race is interwoven into our identities, and to be without it would leave us incomplete.
Winant goes onto state that racial objectivity is also problematic. This has, in the past, led to various acts of “scientific racism” as he states. Modern day thinkers subscribe to this style of thinking, Winant says:
“Sociopolitical circumstances change over historical time, racially defined groups adapt to fail or to adapt to these changes, achieving mobility or remaining mired in poverty, and so on. In this logic there is no re conceptualization of group identities, or the constantly shifting parameters through which race is thought about, group interests are assigned, statuses are ascribed, agency is attained and roles are performed.”
Thus, contemporary racial theory is kind of an “it is what it is” situation. We insist on fitting one another into neat, catch-phrasey containers, when in reality- everyone is a hybrid of a hybrid; multi-layered. In our minds we are a bag of sun chips, in reality we are a bag of munchies. This “race as objective condition” bit fails thrice times according to Winant:
1. Does not fully capture the character of racial identity or meaning.
2. Denies the historicity and social comprehensiveness of the race concept.
3. Does not account for the behavior of actors (single and collective) incoherent and conflictual racial meanings and identities in everyday life.
Basically where Fields was all concept and no solids- this is all solids with no concept.
Winant proclaims three ingredients for a racial theory:
1. It must apply to contemporary political relationships.
-There are new reigns of political power, new formations of opposition. Integration v. separatism/Assimilation v. Nationalism are no longer the only speaking points.
2. It must apply in an increasingly global context.
-We are becoming more complex in coverage; racial space is becoming globalized, and in turn more accessible worldwide.
3. It must apply across historical time.
-Winant addresses several Historical notes that pertain to the foundations of Westernized culture, and what that means for globalization today.
Winant is completely jazzed to see race evolve into something new.
Photography Review; Cameras as Accomplices, Helping Race Divide America Against Itself
This New York Times article, written by Holland Cotter, addresses an exhibition in Manhattan in 2003. The exhibit, Only Skin Deep: Changing Visions of the American Self, was an all around crazy mix mashup of work regarding race in American culture. From daguerreotypes to digital jazz- this show had it all. And, dare I say it, shows within the show. This was American photography taking on a political voice in an arabesque fashion. The curators were pulling inspiration out of vast array of subjects such as American history, art, science, sociology, pop culture, psychology, and personal narrative. Cotter marks an interesting note stating,
“In trying to puzzle out individual pictures and connect the dots within groupings, you quickly learn something about your own perceptual programming, a lot about the slippery nature of photography itself.”
Essentially the show pulls extremely separate works from totally different times and places into one room, forcing the viewers to make sense of and simultaneously comprehend our notions of race up until this point [2003]. This is us in our most cruel, odd, and anxious form. Several pieces pose interesting questions, such as the 1845 piece “The Branded Hand of Captain Jonathan Walker, Boston, Mass”- the article states:
“The brand suggests and association with slavery, though Walker’s status or racial identity can’t be determined visually. There is no way to know that he was a white abolitionist who tried to free a group of American slaves…”
The exhibition served as a hard and fast look at race as an integral piece, a necessary cog in the American clock. And race will remain as such so long as things continue the way they are.
Beyond Multiculturalism, Freedom?
Another article written by Holland Cotter from the New York Times, this one dating back to summer of 2001. Cotter states that multiculturalism has fundamentally changed the art world in an expansive, broadening fashion. However, with this expansion came new forms of limitations- a facade of dimension. The one tide and true static quality, unfortunately, permeating throughout our society is a little term we’re all familiar with; racism.
Cotter goes on to share information about a “post black” art show on the west coast. Such terminology has become acceptable in further defining contemporary identity among different cultural groups. However, just as multiculturalism has unfortunately proven, adding more names to the pot only refines the roaming space all the more.
“A label can, of course, also reduce an idea to little more than a smart-sounding buzzword with a short shelf life.”
The art market, according to Cotter, has little to no choice but to embrace the expansion. However, that doesn’t mean that the market ceases to find ways in which to limit distribution. As the art market became saturated with those raised in the 60’s and 70’s, multiculturalism has been given more of a fair fight in politics and art. Today we have reached a point of no return, giving light to a plethora of different backgrounds. However, the way in which these cultures are shown can easily slide similar seeming parts into boxes that don’t quite fit. Under the umbrella of one culture may be two more that seem alike. Artists today are taking measures into their own hands, addressing race as merely a social construct. Despite the fact that more minorities are represented in the art world, they are still not, by definition, high in number. Overall it appears that the issues surrounding race and representation fluctuate over time. A few steps of advancement result in a few steps backward.
The Sound of Light: Reflections on Art History in the Visual Culture of Hip-Hop
-entrances, to be seen – prominent in hip hop culture
-fascination with celebrity, staged paparazzi common among youth
-urge to be bathed and represented in flashes of light
-mixing, chopping, scratching- common tools of hip hop. Reconfiguring art history in the process
-Kehinde Wiley- Yale grad, massive hip hop paintings
-Luis Gispert, Yale grad also, Cheerleader photographs-“Hoochy goddesses”
-Hip hop began as a subculture- late 1970s: deejaying, emceeing, break dancing, and writing. Early days seen as “golden era” tackling social and economic issues in content
-1980’s, focus on pleasure, hedonism, nihilism
-Magazines, Source and Vibe influenced popularity in late 80’s/early 90’s
-Southern rappers gain recognition in late 90’s
-Loud lifestyle- “Bling”
-Bling conveys state between hyper-visibility and blinding invisibility
-Hype Williams, video director, focuses on reflective surfaces, sexualized women, while drawing inspiration from Rembrandt
Kayne West, Gold Digger directed by Hype Williams
-Everything is shiny, hyper real, sexy, colorful, powerful
-Surfacism- concentration on the meteriality or visual texture of objects within or of the picture plane, relation to The Ambassadors, 1533
Before I begin to access the writing of Susan Sontag, it is important to note her insane level of badassery.
She graduated from high school early, studied light topics such as ancient history and philosophy in college- had a young marriage that resulted in acclaimed reading- traveled the world, and was close with some very important women in photography. All around, Susan Sontag was an incredible woman (my blurb does her no justice).
In Regarding the Pain of Others Sontag addresses age old issues of reality transcending; the truth and suffering becoming banal and trite in everyday modern society. Truly Sontag is addressing the media as an entire desensitizing entity rather than photography alone in this assigned segment, but particularly the image’s (movie or still’s) impact or lack there of in our modern everyday. It would appear that although we are vastly connected by way of images and sound, we are in turn less altered with each visual and auditory infliction. This is no new concept to us, in fact I would argue it is widely known that images of war, destruction, and disaster have inspired a certain numbness (perhaps particularly in my generation) within us; an acquiescence with pain and terror.
Most people are understandably feed up with such images and ideas- and no one person is accountable for this disinterest and lack of emotion. This is a collective issue on the entire planet, and has been with us as long as the suffering and pain has been. I almost feel as though it has only increased as time has gone on (and since this was written). For example, September 11th. This year marked the ten year anniversary of the horrendous attacks on our country. Everyone, even those who were very young at the time (myself included) have a detailed story and description of where they were, our own unique pain which Sontag addresses.
When discussing the Sarajevo show involving Paul Lowe, Sontag writes:
“To set their sufferings alongside the sufferings of another people was to compare them (which hell was worse?), demoting Sarajevo’s martyrdom to a mere instance. The atrocities taking place in Sarajevo have nothing to do with what happens in Africa, they exclaimed. Undoubtably there was a racist tinge to their indignation- Bosnians are Eurpoeans, people in Sarajevo never tired of pointing out to their foreign friends- but they would have objected too if, instead, pictures of atrocities committed against civilians in Chechnya or in Kosovo, indeed in any other country, had been included in the show. It is intolerable to have one’s own sufferings twinned with anybody else’s.”
When we tell the stories of where we were on that fateful morning, is it truly a sharing act? Do our stories really hold any relevance to the event itself? Are we listening to one another or waiting to speak? Is this dissonance caused by our influx of imagery and the lack of true emotional impact?
The pain of that event was here in the United States, the feeling of connection was embedded within home and within the air. Nothing as wrenching had taken place on our own soil since Pearl Harbor; the shock was vibrant, terrible, and altering. However, I couldn’t help but notice how different September 11th, 2011 felt in comparison to anniversaries prior. The world is almost too different and unrecognizable to that time- especially to people of my age. It is my belief that having been exposed to such an event at a young age has set the bar for my generation in regards to tolerance and imagery. The horrible things we will probably witness in our lifetime will always be compared to that event, inspired by that event, and ultimately related to our uncertain pain felt towards it. Just as it always has before.
I was surprised to read quotations included in Sontag’s writing, and almost in a way comforted. In 1800, Wordsworth in the preface to Lyrical Ballads Sontag quotes:
“the great national events which are daily taking place, and the increasing accumulation of men in cities, where the uniformity of their occupations produces a craving for extraordinary incident, which the rapid communication of intelligence hourly gratifies”
…
“to blunt the discriminating powers of the mind [and] reduce it to a state of almost savage torpor”
The issue of decency and morality exposed in the media has evolved over a great span of time. Ultimately no one knows how to feel when dealing with grief, horror, sadness, etc.- there is little to no universal comfort when bombarded with such images, it is forever a state of gray area within different customs and cultures. Seemingly no matter where we are, as humans we strive for our own brand of reality.
Sontag goes onto state in regards to accepting the often times cruel nature of humans:
“No one after a certain age has the right to this kind of innocence, of superficiality, to this degree of ignorance, or amnesia.”
Although we are not personally engaged with the issues at hand, the images which we view from around the globe we are still responsible. If we cannot experience it first hand, we are to at the very least to reflect upon what we see. This is to remind us of our capabilities as a race, our nature remembered. Sontag writes:
“Perhaps too much value is assigned to memory, not enough to thinking…Memory is, achingly, the only relation we can have with the dead…Heartlessness and amnesia seem to go together… To make peace is to forget. To reconcile, it is necessary that memory be faulty and limited.“
So, in turn we are left with an ever-expanding conundrum. How are we to measure the feelings exerted through images when we have no true place in their foundation? How are we supposed to feel? We have the option to not look, to change the channel, to read about other things that peak positive interest- why should our time be spent looking at images of horror when we are almost helpless in the situation, and have the choice not to? Will the images only become more heart-wrenching and cruel before any real change of action is noticed?
this has evolved…
nothingislosteverythingisconnected 