Tuesday, March 1, 2011

On the "Quantum Leap"

“A quantum leap” asks us to look at photography in relation to theories of how we view and understand the world, particularly quantum physics. Ritchin asserts that the ways we view and react to analog and digital photography is analogous to the behavior of light. Light, in the famed double slit experiment , reacts in two ways when passing through slits: light particles can manifest as waves or just behave as though they are separate particles, depending on whether the experiment is being observed or not. Observation changes light particles! That’s totally trippy. Photography can also be seen to operate along the same analogous lines: waves and particles. Where analog photography can be viewed as a wavelike system, digital photography can be seen as something closer to a particle system. In other words, “photography, analog and digital, plays with light but depicts the universe with differing assumptions” (Ritchin 178). Ritchin’s comparison in this case seems quite intuitive. Analog would, of course, have wave like qualities (don’t we slosh our prints in the chemical darkroom, as if creating something out of miniature waves?) and the pixel dominated environment of the digital sensor is visually comparable to that of particles, but I have to ask, what if analog images (namely negatives) are translated into digital form, essentially turned into digital pixels—could we then say that analog photography has both the qualities of waves and particles. Perhaps this is a too literal reading of Ritchin’s comparison—and in the end, quantum physics seems to defy something like light from being either wave-like or particle-like and may contain possibilities of existence that are not predictable and change with context, particularly when the element of the “observer” is introduced. What is more valid to me is the idea that digital photography does have this quality of behaving like particles, in the sense that varied and multiple meaning can be extracted from the surface of the digital image. Not only is meaning variable in digital images (analog images have variable meaning as well), but the unpredictability of added and subtracted meaning is possible. In other words, it is hard to predict how particles of information will react when there is the direct intervention of the “observer” which is basically the reader/viewer. In the example of Proust’s grandmother, the analog photograph, with its aura of the static, seems to deplete Proust’s vision of his grandmother to a state that is less than ideal. Ritchin argues that the digital images ability to create “various superimpositions and links” and “a multiplicity of perspectives” would restore Proust’s grandmother to his original ideal, that of a being who is more complex and may retain the fragmentariness that is a quality of our memories which create and recreate our memories of people in a dynamic way. Are we in the era of the post human being? Would we rather be cyborgs than goddesses? Can we live our lives in a constant state of questioning, of probabilities? What happens to the apparent need for continuity in our lives? I am appreciative of the way Ritchin ends his discourse on photography—that both analog and digital are in a “spiral dance” and that both methods of photography should remain in some type of relationship. In the end though, I sense that he is aware of the inevitability of digital photography dominance in a world that is becoming more and more hyper-realistic.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

"Toward a Hyperphotography"

What is this "hyperphotography" that Fred Ritchin speaks of? It is the new paradigm of photography, where the image is no longer a capture of a segmented view of time, but a conflation of time. This model of photographic imagining will also be interactive, acknowledging that the viewer is as much about the viewing experience as the person who took the photograph: "The photographer's frame, heretofore simply a container for the image, can now store a variety of hidden information that can help to contextualize and amplify the image's meaning, accessible to the interested reader. Ritchin calls for a more "cubistic" type of photography, where multiple vantage points (perspective) is revealed to the viewer. Initially we may see a photograph as being a portrait of the heroic (photo of American soldier's lying on tarmac in Haiti with helicopter), justifying our project of bringing freedom to the world, but upon further investigation with the help of contextualizing imagery we come to understand that our manifested ideals are merely constructions. What about this idea of a proactive photography, where we can bring our predictions of future events (of global climate change for instance) into the present to enact change? Considering the wholly artificial nature of such imagery, I wonder how effective that might in influencing a change in our over consumptive, self destructive behavior. Would the proactive image not be another spectacle on the level of a Hollywood disaster film? Perhaps the most interesting idea for me is the idea of a photographs serving as surrogate family albums. This idea is encapsulated in Brian Palmer's 2004 "Digitial Diary: Witnessing the War." These are everyday moments of our armed uniformed citizens in abnormal situations. The photographs serve as albums for family members back home, who are not able to physically participate in the lives of their loved ones "overseas." The family album has evolved where it is not only the members of your family that is being recorded but a community of families as well, brought together by this "abnormal" state of war. The photo diary becomes the shared communal album.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

On "The Social Photograph."

Photography as a documentary activity has transformed with new technological developments. Photographers must also take into account the consequences of photographing people whose publicized images might endanger then from oppressive governmental forces. All these developments in photography may require photographers to take into account the possibility that their subjects can also be collaborators. When marginalized people are given cameras they often do not take the usual pictures of destruction and despair that are the realm of the new photographer. Besides the bombings and killings and houses, amateurs often take photographs of daily life that can be ecstatic and optimistic in the face of looming tragedy. Ritchin makes the distinction between the amateur photographer and the professional, who he feels is too inclined to take a particular type of photograph, who already knows what the message of the photograph may be; the amateur, without being held back by technical or philosophical issues, may bring a sense of authenticity to their photograph that is lacking in many professional photographs. The subject matter of these marginalized people is as simple as taking pictures of daily life--this is what they see on a daily basis and why is it not more authentic then the photographs of daring rescues, or a landscapes torn by war. Sometimes the professional is caught up in getting a particular type of photo that often asks to shock the viewer into action. These photographs have become essentially stock images in the canon of new photography; their authenticity is questioned because we have become numbed to their message--what Ritchin mentions is called "compassion fatigue."
Ritchin then makes the case that technology can again provide us with a new viewing experience of images. The interactive photo essay by Robert Noth and Antoinette de Jong is one essay that attempts to bring a visual identification of the victims from nuclear radiation. One is able to look at the photograph and then scroll over the image to be provided with more information on the subjects. This online photoessay has brought greater interaction between readers and has even effected governmental change for these people suffering from the effects of man made disaster. It is Ritchin's view that it is not that people are completely numb to the plight of others. It is instead the large amounts of imagery that attempt to evoke in us a sense of empathy that we become used to those images, and their credibility to incite in us a sense of empathy has diminished. It is up to photographers and writers to create new vehicles for discussion that take into account the collaboration of the subjects, and also the input of views from readers.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Fall Creek: Revised Fluid Scan

On "Beginning the Conversation"

Beginning the Conversation is Fred Ritchin's commentary on the possibilities of the creating conversations between disparate communities and individuals in the platform of the digital multi media experience. There is a certain democratic bent to Ritchin's desire to have multiple perspectives in viewing digital images in the future web 3.0. One of his initial concerns was the idea that the virtual interactive domain would somehow be informative in an organic way while also keeping the interest of the reader/participant. There is an interesting example of how one begins to have a conversation with essentially a computer program in his description of Luc Courchesne and Paule Ducharme's virtual project Portrait One. Here the participants in the conversation are a virtual representation of actress Paule Ducharme and the reader/viewer/participant who must keep up an "interesting" conversation for the exercise to continue; the human must engage in a decent conversation with an artificial intelligence. What an idea! I am intrigued by the concept of a computer program losing interest in a boring conversation with a human; it hearkens back to HAL in Stanley Kubrick's 2001, a precocious, sentient computer program that wreaks havoc on his human handlers. Ritchin goes on to a more in depth discussion of the possibilities of people having a conversation with virtual photo essays in the multimedia newspaper (Ritchin and photographer Gilles Peres' Bosnia: Uncertain Paths to Freedom). It certainly is an interesting idea with the multilayering of information that allows the user to determine the path of the narrative. The desire to include a forum for discussion in the end seems to be the major drawback to the project with sometimes racist vitriolic being posted instead of a measured discourse, an unintended effect of an all inclusive approach to virtual conversation. Ritchin is not unaware of the dangers posed by a world where we get our information from interactive multi media sites. Headlines that are missing from these virtual communication platforms are sometimes essential in creating a unified communal discourse needed for social movements. Also, the proliferation of "citizen journalists" may create a glut of information that is redundant or superficial. He suggests that there needs to be more filtering of content, but who would accomplish this filtering? Who would be up to the task of going through the vast amount of digitally rendered information to keep the conversation focused? It seems to me an impossible task, and one that only institutions could accomplish, which would have their own biases and agendas in the end. Perhaps we could develop an artificial intelligence network based on filtering programs that provides parameters that would narrow down the discourse; but then again that network would also carry the bias of its creator, and who knows, perhaps that network itself will, like the intrepid HAL in 2001, turn on its creators and develop their own responses to the affairs of humans. It's not out of the realm of possibility that reality meets science fiction.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

on "Image, War, Legacy"

The Chapter on image, War, Legacy begins with the assertion that images throughout our recent history have been divorced from its content and used to gain political advantage on the world stage which seems to resemble more and more a Hollywood set. From the photogenic John F. Kennedy to the hijackers of the 9-11 tragedy, political forces are using images to promote their causes and agendas in the vein of the Hollywood leading man or action stunt film. Perhaps our worst export to the rest of the globe is this insatiable desire for shameless self-promotion through the medium of image. The camera is always on us and we must behave according to the image we want to portray for ourselves to the wider world. What is even perhaps equally distressing is that in our so called post modern era, the play on the surface of signs allows us to make any assertion about "reality" to fit our needs: to look like a hipster, a student, or athlete; to wage war on the premise of ridding the world of dictators and their "weapons of mass destruction." These "pseudo realities," as Ritchin calls them, become the cultural narratives that define how we interact with each other and the world outside of our country. Despite the horrors of reality we can create our own feel good story about how "everything is going to be just fine.
Photography and photographers are also complicit in the political institution's promotion of pseudo realities. Either by being excluded from certain conflicts or being tightly controlled in what they can or cannot show, photographers (journalists and documentarians) are more often than not the unwitting record keepers of the institutional forces that they are reporting on; they now work to promote the preconceptions of the respected news outlets, U.S. Military, major corporations and non-governmental organizations to name a few. Perhaps the greatest danger in my eyes is what Ritchin mentions is a growing skepticism in the American public. We approach our news not to learn the truth but to be entertained because we are skeptical of all the images presented to us. I fear that we suspect that everyone has a hidden agenda and so we are more prone to ignore some information while devaluing the sense of objectivity in others. But perhaps this is not such a terrible turn of events, as Ritchin seems to suggest. Perhaps this skepticism, if it does not turn into cynicism, is helpful in thoughtfully locating the hidden agendas behind the images we are bombarded with. It just takes a little bit of time and media literacy education. What a strange world we live in.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

On "Mirrors, Windows, and Mosaics"

Fred Ritchin begins his discussion of a new and collaborative way to interact with the photographic images by making the distinction between two ways of approaching the photographic image: the "mirror" and the "window." In the "mirror" we approach the photograph as a way of seeing how the photographer is reflecting themselves in the photograph; the "window" is the photographer's attempt to explore the world outside of themselves. Ritchin's example of Walker Evan's photographs of Depression Era United States suggests that these two ways of seeing are not mutually excessive and that the photograph can be an exploration of the world while also revealing the photographer's personal bias and imagination, his so called "self-expression." I agree with Ritchin's thesis that photographs can reveal both window and mirror. On a surface level, my desire to explore the world around me, this little locale called Eugene, is a window endeavor. At the same time I feel my choice of subject, my own inner biases, my technical knowledge, all result in images that are a reflection of my self: I do see them as artifacts of "self-expression" beyond the represented exploration of the world.
Ritchin then offers an alternative to the notion of mirror/window in regard to digital imagery, namely "mosaic." He argues that the photograph, the digital image, should not be a static entity because its claims to truth are obsolete. If claims to truth cannot be attained in the digital image, why not add contextual information (through "hyper-texts") that would allow a "multiplicity of voices" to engage in the dialogue of the digital image? The meaning of the image, already elusive, would be given greater contextual weight through the contributions of many. Although I find this idea of an evolving image to be appealing, I am also horrified at the possibility of manipulation of my image to be taken far out of the context that I would wish it to maintain (Ritchin also mentions this danger). Considering, the innumerable videos on Youtube, and the innumerable commentary that accompanies those images, sometimes vapid and sometimes malicious, I would never submit my images to such scrutiny and manipulation. Ritchin's example of the family photograph with grandma holding a bible would be the extent to what I would speculatively allow my photographs to be manipulated. Perhaps, the community of commentators would be only family members and close family friends. The community in this new age of the mosaic photograph, I feel, should be a limited one.

Monday, January 17, 2011

"From Zero to One"

In the chapter "From Zero to One" Fred Ritchin explains that despite the loss of an image's truth value in an ocean of digital images, there is an opportunity for the image maker to evolve a new way of experiencing the world. In the example of the tourist who uses photography (or the act of taking a photograph) as a surrogate for actual experience, digital manipulation may free him from the usual tourist sites that have been photographed/experienced to the point of cliche. No longer will the tourist have to actually visit the "most photographed barn in America" or the Eiffel Tower. Digital manipulation can simulate those experiences without the tourist having to be present for those experiences. This usage of digital manipulation of tourist traps will allow the tourist to experience sites that are off the proverbial "beaten path." Tourist/photographers will now be more willing to explore, observe and capture more "idiosyncratic" places and objects, thus leading to a more enriched lived experience. This optimistic view of the manipulation possible in the digital age is somewhat tempered by Ritchin's belief that images should retain what journalistic and documentary quality that remains when we view images; although the semblance of truth in images is quickly disappearing in our society, that illusion of non-fictional image must be retained to prevent those in power to have the advantage of claiming a false truth or denying the validity of certain events like genocide.
Ritchin suggestion that there be a way of distinguishing the manipulated from the non manipulated images (meaning "modest" modifications in color, exposure, etc.) is not as easy a solution to implement into the wider culture. The problem is that there is an unwillingness to create a standard language of discriminating from manipulated to the non-manipulated from established media outlets. Without an agreed upon standard of interpreting media, and with a society that is media illiterate, the photograph, one of our "most effective reportorial media will be dissipated in the popular imagination." At the same time the potentials of the new digital technology will be "undercut." In the end, his view that the photograph should be seen as a visual "quotation" (not as the truth) seems valid to me. Photography should not lose its documentary quality but at the same time it should also be seen as an interpretation of an event, with the visual information in the image providing layers of meaning beyond that provided by the photographer or editor.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

On "Of Pixels and Paradox"

After reading Fred Ritchin's chapter of Pixels and Paradox in his book After Photography, I have the depressing sense that image making in the digital age has lost any sort of personal meaning.  The sheer amount of images that we encounter and the validity of those images beg the question, is it worth making images?  I say, yes.  Perhaps my images will be lost as a drop in a vast bucket (www.photobucket.com) of images, but I know that my images, however insignificant, were made with a touch of my personality.  I know that my photographs were made at a certain time.  The subject of my photographs were seen with my eyes at a particular place and time of my life; the people in my photographs are recognizable to me and to themselves.  At the end of the day, this microcosmic recognition is what is most important to me.  Perhaps, in the future, if people do look at my photographs, they might look at it as something that is "generic and mass reproduced" (49), but that does not matter to me.  I know that I took the photograph, and at the time it was a unique moment for me and my subject.   Is this attitude toward my photographs enough to continue making images in this image saturated world?  Always the answer is, yes, because the act of photographing is what is important to me.  If anything, I want to print my photographs, to add that sort of preciousness that is missing from the digital file floating on the internet.  I want to grab my image out of the air.  I want  the floating signifier to float less and stay for a while.  The monetary incentive to make prints is secondary to my desire to turn my memories into a tangible object, something that I can carry with me, in my pocket, easily referenced without the need to retrieve it from a digital wasteland.


Ritchin's dystopian view of the world of images is rather disconcerting.  He mentions the idea of how our genotypes will be classified in the future and will be available for scrutiny (perhaps even through images).  We will become cyborgs like the "Replicants" in Bladerunner who are falsely assured of their humanity through faked childhood photographs.  Perhaps it is true that we are being deceived by the digital images that we make.  Perhaps we attribute too much of our humanity from false or manipulated images, but that is the condition of our age.  This digital world that we are born into is inescapable.  It is already written into our genomes.  I suppose it becomes, then, a matter of personal responsibility to create images that are personally valid.  If our images define who we are, and if that is a false or manipulated being, then it is up to the individual to project personal meaning into those images.  I feel that this is the only way to avoid (or at least alleviate) this feeling of digital alienation in world saturated with images.