A2—Photographing the unseen

My work covers a number of the “unseens” that I identified as I began to think about this assignment: the past, the dead, missing people and secrets. Every family has its share of those and mine is no different. I know very little about my father’s branch of the family so, over the last few years, I have begun to unearth what I can through official records and archives in the UK. If it were left only to the physical evidence left to me—that is, the few objects in my possession—I would know very little about the people who came before me.

I present images of those objects here in the way that a museum or archive might, described simply and following archival technique (Online Museum Training – Photographing Collection Items. [s.d.]). I have done this because that is how I have come to read the pieces: for me, they are akin to museum artefacts in that they are from the past, are on display and are divorced from their original context. Individually, they might be read as objets trouvés, “objects or products with non-art functions that are placed into an art context and made part of an artwork” (History of the Found Object in Art [s.d.]).

Taken together, however, the objects form a collection that I try to fit with some difficulty and much imagination into a narrative about the people who owned them. In my mind, they hint at aspects of the daily lives of my paternal grandfather, grandmother and great-grandmother over a period of some 60 years, all before I was born. Without more detail and context, however, I realise that any interpretation I make contains a lot of projection and speculation.

And that is interesting to me. If I as a direct descendant am not able to tease out much of the context and narrative of these pieces, viewers with no personal connection are free to construct an even broader range of interpretations. We might all be able to view the pieces as signs, but it is unlikely we would all agree on what they signify (Hall, 2007, p.10). Would others’ narratives about the lives of my unseen family be any more or less valid than mine?

How would I know? Would it matter?

Item 1-1. Embossed silver cigarette case. Made by Frederick Field, Birmingham. No date.

*Item 1-2. Detail of cigarette case showing embossed initials.*

*Item 2-1. Board slipcase containing pocket Book of Common Prayer and Hymns Ancient and Modern.*

*Item 2-2. Frontispiece of Book of Common Prayer with handwritten inscription, 9 January 1891.*

*Item 3-1. Cardboard booklet with commemorative sticker on cover.*

*Item 3-2. Booklet, showing handwritten inscription and Sunday School stickers, 1915–1916.*

*Item 4-1. Kodak Six-20 folding Brownie camera.* Manufactured circa 1951–1955, London, UK.

*Item 4-2. Side view of camera, unfolded.*

*Item 5-1. Wooden presentation box containing 6-piece, stainless steel cutlery set.* No date.

References

ARTifacts as ART and Inspiration (s.d.) At: http://www.SandraMcLeanArts.com/artifacts-as-art-and-inspiration.html (Accessed on 23 September 2019)

Hall, S. (2007) This Means This, This Means That: a user’s guide to semiotics. London: King.

History of the Found Object in Art (s.d.) At: http://www.artspace.com/magazine/art_101/the-history-of-the-found-object-in-art (Accessed on 23 September 2019)

Mary Mary Quite Contrary (s.d.) At: http://www.marymaryquitecontrary.org.uk/ (Accessed on 23 September 2019)

Museum in a Box – Crawford College of Art & Design (s.d.) At: https://crawford.cit.ie/museum-in-a-box/ (Accessed on 23 September 2019)

Online Museum Training – Photographing Collection Items. (s.d.) At: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oUgG7HEpvyo (Accessed on 21 September 2019)

Research point—Relay

Sophie Calle — Take Care of Yourself

The title of Calle’s work is taken from the last line of a breakup e-mail she received from her partner. Calle sent the text of the e-mail to 107 women in different lines of work and asked for their perspectives on the message. The responses, along with images made by the artist, were used as an installation.
The sheer variety of the responses points out the role of the reader in interpreting text and creating meaning, a key point in postmodernist literary theory.
Although Calle’s images appear alongside the responses she received, their number means that no one of them holds a place of privilege in determining the meaning of the text of the e-mail: “By circulating the letter to women of all ages, artistic and otherwise, Calle transforms the breakup into a survey of interpretation” (Fisher, 2009).
In addition, the responses of the 107 and the images made by Calle were produced independently and could be ‘read’ in multiple combinations, so each adds a potential layer of meaning without being definitive: neither the images nor the texts limit or determine the others’ meaning. Instead, texts and images can play off one another and provide additional, potential layers of meaning. The reader/viewer has a range of insights and interpretations to draw on.
What is interesting about the many interpretations offered by Calle’s collaborators is that they are based entirely upon a single text. As a postmodern work, the exhibit turns back on itself in that, although there are 107 interpretations, many of the interpreters seem to believe they are commenting on the behaviour of a man whom they know only through an e-mail. They are commenting in a ‘real’ way on a man who is, essentially, a reconstruction or a fiction based on almost no evidence at all. This leads to “[…] a dossier in text, photography and video [that] pours scorn on the boyfriend while lavishing Calle with sympathy” (Sophie Calle, ‘Take Care of Yourself, s.d.).
After cataloguing the number of interpretations and the forms they take, a number of reviewers acknowledge enjoying how a “persistent sense of female camaraderie is also achieved through the sheer entertainment value there is in seeing 107 women more or less humiliate a man” (Jankowicz, 2017). Again, it is perhaps less a man who is humiliated than the idea of a man, maybe a certain type of man or perhaps all men.
I agree that “[…] Calle’s work translates the broader feminine experience into a formalized world of possibilities. The ‘answers’ are less important than the forms of engagement and investigation, the invitation to construct meaning” (Fisher, 2009). But, for me, that construction of meaning affects not only interpretation of the text of the e-mail message, but also of the situation and actors who may (or may not!) have given rise to it as well as the interpreters themselves.

Sophy Rickett — Objects in the Field

Rickett’s installation comprises a set of prints of negatives taken through a telescope, accompanied by a brief text in several parts.
The images have been separated from their original scientific purpose, not only through time (they are now obsolete and were never of the best technical quality), but also through the way they are displayed. Instead of providing the prints with the usual type of tagging and metadata that accompany scientific observation, the photographs have been been produced and displayed according to visual or artistic criteria: some have been coloured and placed in sets, while others have been ordered by size in a sequence.
The parts of the accompanying text appear to be in roughly chronological order although they do not form a coherent narrative with a beginning, a middle and an end. Instead, each has some connection with vision or sight—an eye exam that reveals the need for glasses, a view from an aircraft and a short meditation on the night sky, a discussion with an astronomer (seemingly the one who made the exposures that were reworked for the installation), a glimpse from a train of an interaction between two children.
The text and the images play off each other in that they all represent momentary or partial views and the difficulties that we have with vision, either because our sight is poor or limited, our perception is only partial, or because we do not have enough time to observe fully. In this way the text that accompanies the images does not explain them, but provides them with added dimensions of meaning: not interpretations, but suggestions for further interpretive possibilities.
The title of the work—Objects in the Field—might also be a play on words in that it touches upon a field of vision or sight (eyes or the span of sky taken in by a telescopic), the apparent objectivity of the things we see, and the scientific activity of collecting objects for observation in field work (Sophy Rickett, 2013).
The work also plays on setting different ways of seeing beside each other: scientific observation (telescope and optometry), as part of human experience, and as an artistic vision of drawing out the tensions between these different ways of seeing. Rickett alludes to some of these tensions herself in an interview: “It looks at my attempts to find ways of aligning our very different practices, as well as my work as an artist with his as a scientist. But in the most part I fail. So the work came to be about a kind of symbiosis on the one hand, but on the other there is a real tension, a sense of us resisting one another. The material in the middle stays the same, but it’s kind of contested, fought over.”

KayLynn Deveney — The Day-to-Day Life of Alfred Hastings

Deveney’s project consists of 83 photographs and 77 handwritten captions by by her subject, Albert Hastings, along with some of Mr. Hasting’s poems, drawings and family photos.
The photographer presents the work as something that started as a documentary project and then evolved into a collaboration: “Early in this project Bert shared some intriguing thoughts and comments with me concerning my photographs of him. […] To better understand his feelings about being photographed and his reactions to my photographs, I asked Bert to caption small prints I kept in a pocket-sized notebook” (The Day to Day Life of Albert Hastings, s.d.).
The combination of images and hand-written texts is a selection of moments observed in Mr. Hastings’ daily life. Many of his comments are just descriptive (“Bringing my scones from the oven”) while others are more interpretive and seem to give us a personal insight (“Could this be a presumptive picture of my futuristic soul regarding a past world and friends?” or “I’m not talking to a ghost / I’m opening the curtains”). Other comments allude directly to the planned nature of the joint project (“Feeding pigeons, net curtain in the way. We were quietly getting birds accustomed to camera”).
The combination of image and text is interesting in that gives the impression that the final product is not entirely within the photographer’s hands. Mr. Hastings’ comments do give the viewer a sense of access to his thoughts—rather than to Deveney’s—but they do tend to direct interpretation and help to conceal somewhat the fact that this is the photographer’s edited project. But it’s an appealing mix.

Karen Knorr — Gentlemen

Knorr’s series of 26 images and texts “photographed in English gentlemen’s clubs in Saint James’ in central London consider the patriarchal values of the English upper middle classes with text constructed out of speeches of parliament and news” ( Gentlemen, s.d.).
The result is a series of black and white images shot in square format with the brief texts run underneath in centre-justified lines displayed like poetry. The square monochrome images help to underline how staid and rigid the old boys network is. The texts—often incongruous or relating to the images only in a broadly thematic way—are often comical. The effect is to show up the patriarchal establishment as outmoded and ridiculous, without ever saying so directly. As satire and protest, it works.
The juxtaposition of images and texts from different sources requires the viewer to work to make sense of what appears in the frame. Deriving the meaning is like a puzzle to be chewed on and arrived at slowly—or perhaps not at all. I suppose that some viewers could look at the series and come away with the impression that the it is artistic nonsense or an attempt to be ‘clever.’ It’s hard to know what the original viewers made of the work although, perhaps, those who visit galleries were presumed to be culturally sophisticated enough to grasp the photographer’s leanings. Humour can be a very effective tool for satire or for putting forth ideas that are not welcome but there is always a risk of misunderstanding, particularly when the humour is sly or depends on inside knowledge.
I plan to spend more time with this work and with Knorr’s other series. I appreciate her approach to composition and the humour in her work and would like to learn more from her.

References

Calle, S. (2007) Sophie Calle: Take Care of Yourself. (Nov Har/Dv edition) Arles, France: Dis Voir/Actes Sud.

Chrisafis, A. (2007) ‘Interview: Sophie Calle’ In: The Guardian 15 June 2007 [online] At: https://www.theguardian.com/world/2007/jun/16/artnews.art (Accessed on 26 August 2019)

Fisher, C. (2009) Sophie Calle: Take Care of Yourself. At: https://brooklynrail.org/2009/06/artseen/take-care-of-yourself (Accessed on 26 August 2019)

Gentlemen (s.d.) At: https://karenknorr.com/photography/gentlemen/ (Accessed on 31 August 2019)

Jankowicz, M. (2017) “Take Care of Yourself”: Sophie Calle’s French Pavilion at the 2007 Venice Biennial. At: https://medium.com/@miajankowicz/take-care-of-yourself-sophie-calles-french-pavilion-at-the-2007-venice-biennial-a1a31f8df54a (Accessed on 26 August 2019)

Objects in the Field (s.d.) At: https://sophyrickett.com/objects-in-the-field-1 (Accessed on 26 August 2019)

Sophie Calle – Detachment, Death, and Dialogue (s.d.) At: https://zakdimitrov.com/sophie-calle/ (Accessed on 26 August 2019)

Sophie Calle, ‘Take Care of Yourself’ (s.d.) At: //www.timeout.com/newyork/art/sophie-calle-take-care-of-yourself (Accessed on 26 August 2019)

Sophy Rickett (2013) At: https://photoparley.wordpress.com/2013/12/03/sophy-rickett/ (Accessed on 27 August 2019)

Sophy Rickett. Objects in the Field (2014) At: https://wsimag.com/art/7404-sophy-rickett-objects-in-the-field (Accessed on 27 August 2019)

The Day to Day Life of Albert Hastings (s.d.) At: https://kaylynndeveney.com/the-day-to-day-life-of-albert-hastings (Accessed on 31 August 2019)

Exercise—Telling a story

There are a number of important differences between Briony Campbell’s The Dad Project and W. Eugene Smith’s Country Doctor:

Campbell tells her story with a lengthy text written in the first person, Smith largely through photo captions in the third person (which may have been written by him or by an editor at LIFE).
Campbell appears in her own story as an actor, while Smith is unseen in his. There is perhaps an expectation, then, that Smith’s reporting is more objective, but this is not necessarily so. It is a convention that he is following, which also puts more attention on the solitary life of the doctor. Smith shows herself in the frame and her PDF takes the reader through her feelings, mental states and exchanges with her father. Rather than feeling like we are observing the doctor’s experiences like a fly-on-the-wall, we are given more intimate access to Campbell’s world and her father is an active participant in the image-making.
Smith shot his entire series on black and white film, as was customary for the time. It looks as though Campbell has probably shot her series in digital colour, likely on a full-frame or crop-sensor dSLR. Smith’s series looks, at once, older and more timeless. At the same time, there are clues in both series (clothing, hairstyles, furnishings) that point the viewer to the times the images were made.
Smith’s images were made for publication in a famous U.S. picture magazine while it is not clear that Campbell had thought about what she would do with her photographs after she completed them.
Campbell’s project seems to have been shot over a much longer period and is more traditionally a narrative: there is a beginning (her father becomes ill), a middle (his illness progresses) and an end (her father succumbs to his illness). She has created the project to help her cope with the reality of her father’s serious illness. Smith’s series has a much tighter feel, as though it was shot in just a few days (which is probably not accurate) and there is no sense of narrative development: instead, it is a slice of one man’s life. The selection of the images leads the viewer in a particular direction (compassion for a man who appears exhausted and selfless), but there is little sense of what Smith himself is getting out of the project—there is an implied distance between photographer and subject.
The time and the subject matter combined to make Campbell reflect on her priorities and on her practice as a photographer. Smith’s work is uniform and consistent, and there is no hint that his thinking and approach to photography might have changed over the life of the photo essay (although it is not impossible).
Smith’s images were printed in a glossy, high-circulation magazine as a work of photojournalism. Campbell’s images appear on her website, a selection became a small, bound book for submission for her master’s course work, and she also mounted exhibitions, one of which took place at London’s Photographer’s Gallery. Her edited photos were presented as art. The photographs also changed context when they were published as a photo essay in The Guardian Weekend Magazine, El Mundo, Die Zeit (where the translator took liberties with Campbell’s title and intent for her work) and later as a trade book.
I suppose that “an ending without an ending” means that, although Campbell’s father’s life came to an end, her relationship with him lives on in the project they completed together. It might also suggest that what she learned through the experience will continue to affect her relationship with other people and her work as a photographer. One important story has ended, but her life continues, affected by it.

References

Cosgrove, B. (2012) ‘W. Eugene Smith’s Landmark Portrait: ‘Country Doctor’’ In: Time 1 February 2012 [online] At: https://time.com/3456085/w-eugene-smiths-landmark-photo-essay-country-doctor/ (Accessed on 20 July 2019)

Country Doctor • W. Eugene Smith • Magnum Photos (2017) At: https://www.magnumphotos.com/newsroom/society/w-eugene-smith-country-doctor/ (Accessed on 20 July 2019)

The_Dad_Project_Briony_Campbell.pdf (s.d.) (s.l.). At: http://www.brionycampbell.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/The_Dad_Project_Briony_Campbell.pdf (Accessed on 20 July 2019)

Some definitions

The introductory material for CAN begins by looking at issues of definition around the terms “context” and “narrative.” Context seems to be particularly broad as it encompasses not only the physical placement of an image but also possible intellectual/social settings. Narrative pertains more to the world inside the frame of an image or the coherence across a series of images. The definitions seem a little arbitrary, but they will serve as a kind of shorthand for the two sets of reference, inside and outside the frame.

Photographers are encouraged to keep context and narrative in mind as they create and display their work and this makes sense. At the same time, I can see some potential pitfalls: first, no artist can be fully aware of the narratives that might exist or be perceived within the frame of his or her work; second, artists may not have complete control over the context within which their work is displayed.

I think, then, that we will do well to bring a good level of awareness and mindfulness to our work—such as what is going in the art world and the broader society, as well as what sorts of codes or references we may be drawing on consciously or otherwise. But we must also resign ourselves to the fact that what we think we are putting into our work may not be what comes out of it for audiences…because of the complexities of context and narrative.

Reference

Boothroyd, Sharon (2017) ‘Introduction’ In: Context and Narrative. (s.l.): Open College of the Arts. pp.13–20.