Should a “peculiar” nature of photography exist, does it influence how we view and subsequently interpret photographs?

In their 1975 article “Photography, Vision and Representation”, Snyder and Allen question whether photography is so different from other forms of visual art, with particular reference to painting, as to require its own unique methods of interpretation and standards of evaluation.

Certainly photography is unique in having the ability, once the correct camera and lenses have been chosen and appropriate settings made, to record a scene “as is”, an ability that is not available to painting where everything is dependent upon the knowledge and skill of the artist – assuming that he or she wishes to record the scene faithfully and not be “creative”.

“Most people, if asked, would no doubt say that, whereas the painter can paint whatever he wants, the photographer must depict “what is there.”” (Snyder and Allen, 1975, p. 148).

Arnheim suggests that the “mechanical” nature of photography confers upon photographs “an authenticity from which painting is barred from birth”: “All I have said derives ultimately from the fundamental peculiarity of the photographic medium: the physical objects themselves print their image by means of the optical and chemical action of light”. (Arnheim as cited in Snyder and Allen, 1975, p. 146).

Cavell suggests that the photographic process: “does not so much defeat the act of painting as escape it altogether: by automatism, by removing the human agent from the act of reproduction.” (Cavell as cited in Snyder and Allen, 1975, p. 145).

An interesting view is being put forward by Cavell, but it is a point of view with which I cannot agree.

A camera will always record exactly what is presented before the lens. What is presented and how is a matter of choice on the part of the photographer. A brush will only ever paint what is present in front of the artist as it is perceived by the artist.

Price seems to write in support of Cavell: “We speak of taking photographs rather than making them, because the marks of their construction are not immediately visible” (Price, 2015, p. 123).

But what might these “marks” be, and how visible are they?

In real-terms, the very act of taking a photograph leads to a distorted reality: the overall mood of an image can be influenced by choices concerning lighting or whether to shoot in colour or black and white, the choice of perspective can determine, as Snyder and Allen suggest, whether the same subject dominates or is dominated by its environment. Choices over which film to use or how to post-process digital images can lead to artefacts which may add an aesthetic quality to an image but may also detract from fidelity: a colour-cast or graininess which is peculiar to a particular brand of film or post-processing method.

There are, then, restrictions to how accurately a photograph can capture “reality” which arise from the photographic process.

All this, then, leads to a question which I feel is often overlooked: how real do we want photographs to be?

Snyder and Allen inform us that there are two discrete schools of thought: the “scientific division”, and the “art division” (Snyder and Allen, 1975, p. 144).

Price et al discuss important movements with origins contemporaneous with the formative years of photography: “straight photography” (akin to naturalism or realism), and pictorialism (Price et al, 2015, pp.  15 – 17).

I think how real we wish the images we make (as photographers) and view (as an audience) is very much context dependent.

Photojournalism is a genre where integrity is paramount and today we might place this type of photography into the “straight photography” camp.

Some genres of photography, on the other hand, lend themselves more readily to images which are not just manipulated but constructed purely for artistic purposes, fine art, for example, which might fit the pictorialist ideology.

In order for audiences to maintain faith in the photographic establishment, it is of vital importance for photographers to appreciate their intended audience and supply the kind of images that the audience expects – being clear as to whether the context demands the provision of images with a high level of authenticity, or with a high level or creativity.

So then, are there any characteristics of photography which make it deserving of unique methods of interpretation, standards of evaluation all of its own?

Arguably not, because surely the rules of interpretation are universal across all forms of art. Whilst that may be the case in terms of visual appearance, what of the technical nature of photographs.

Other forms of art have their own technical terms, for example, paintings imprimatura and grisaille terminology. And so exists terminology to describe, in standard terms, the way photographs are taken in the same way that we might analyse the brush strokes of an artist in order to understand the techniques he or she applied in the painting of a piece of art.

Whilst a unique system of interpretation may not be necessary, several attempts have been made to develop a universal method of evaluation: semiotics, for example, has been and continues to be applied equally well to the analysis of photographs as it has and does to paintings.

Pierce introduced the philosophical system of semiotics in his book “Logic as Semiotic: The Theory of Signs” (1910), a discourse on the theory of language and reasoning. This system has since been utilised widely in attempts to establish the nature of photography and photographs.

Barthes, Sontag, and Snyder and Allen have all referred to terminology introduced by Pierce in his system of semiotics in their attempts to qualify how photography “exists”, such terminology as: icon – the resemblance a photograph has to its subject, index – trace evidence of the existence of a subject once photographed, and symbol – an agreed, standardised point of reference which can be used as a basis upon which to form discussions that are inclusive (e.g. a car is a car because that is what we are taught, and it is universally accepted that a “car” will have a chassis, four wheels, an engine, etc.).

“Panzani” Advert used by Barthes to explore the “rhetoric of the image”

Moving on, my photographic practice is currently split into two areas. Firstly, the commercial photography where images might be sold to food retailers and caterers. This is an area where a relatively high degree of reality is expected on the part of clients and the final audience. Images which are created can quite often be a new take on already established idea – letting the client and the final audience see something old in a new way. The purpose of such work is to highlight the appeal of food or drink and establish in customers a desire to purchase.

This is in contrast to my second area of work, that which is related to my project. Here images are created to have aesthetic appeal whilst conveying a message associated with our relationship with food. These images are “constructed”, in real life the images do not exist – whilst individually the subjects are tangible objects, they are brought together and arranged in an appealing manner purely for the purposes of making the image.

For these two areas, the context is different – requiring different things – and so the intent is different. The output in each case, however, is true to the intent.

Morris, 2016. Oatcakes

Morris, 2016. Tomato Soup

It is this dichotomy, being able to produce images that are true to the real world on one hand, whilst creating images which are only representations of the real world on the other – the difference between a found image and a made image – that is the “peculiar” nature of photography.

What photography and painting share is that whether reality or fiction is portrayed comes down to choice on the part of the artist. This choice is very much dependent upon context, i.e. who will view the work, when, where and why. Where they differ is that in photography it is in the nature of photographic equipment to reproduce images with a high degree of fidelity to the original, in painting the degree of fidelity to the original is down to the ability of the painter in the use of brushes and paint.

Price, D. (2015) ‘Surveyors and Surveyed’, in WELLS, L. (ed) Photography – A Critical Introduction, Oxon: Routledge, 123

Price, D. et al (2015) ‘Thinking about Photography’, in WELLS, L. (ed) Photography – A Critical Introduction, Oxon: Routledge, 15-17

Snyder, J. and Allen, N. (1975) ‘Photography, Vision and Representation’, Critical Inquiry, vol 2, No. 1 (Autumn, 1975), pp. 143-169 [Online]. Available at: http://www.jstor.org/stable/1342806 (Accessed 03 February 2017)

‘In the Photograph, the power of authentication exceeds the power of representation’

– Roland Barthes

In deciphering what Barthes is trying to say, it is pertinent first to explore the meaning of the terms “authenticity” and “representation”.

Authentication is the term used to denote that an image is trace evidence of a subject having existed.  This equates to the “certificate of presence” referred to by Barthes (Barthes, 1980).

Scruton helps clarify the situation when he writes: “In other words, if a photograph is a photograph of a subject, it follows that the subject exists” (Scruton, 1981, p. 579).

Further clarification is provided by Tagg who writes: “What the photograph asserts is the overwhelming truth that ‘the thing has been there’: this was a reality which once existed, though it is ‘a reality one can no longer touch’.” (Tagg, 1988).

Authenticity, then, in a photographic context, deals with issues surrounding the integrity of an image, that is to say, how much faith we can place in an image.

As Price sums up for us: “perhaps the simplest and most obvious test of authenticity is to ask whether what is in front of the lens to be photographed has been tampered with, set up, or altered by the photographer” (Price, 2015, p.90).

Given that we now exist in a digital age where it is easy to manipulate images in an unprecedented way, how much faith can we place in the images that we see?

The fact that digital images, by their very nature, can be so easily manipulated – deconstructed and reconstructed even – raises questions as to the degree that what we are seeing is “authentic” or indeed “real” in anyway.

I think what we “see” in an image in terms of how truthfully it reflects a moment in time is very much context dependent.

There are some genres of photography where integrity is of the utmost importance, photojournalism being one example. Some genres of photography, on the other hand, lend themselves more readily to images which are not just manipulated but constructed purely for artistic purposes, fine art being an appropriate example.

Price informs us that it is the trace that is “considered to give photographs their special relationship to the real” (Price, 2015, p. 93).

So, what then of representation?

Representation deals with the particular way that subjects – whether they are individuals, groups or ideas – are portrayed by such visual modes of communication as painting and photography.

The term implies that images are not “innocent” but instead have their own ideological foundations and consequently “representation” is open to interpretation, both by the photographer at the time the photograph is taken and also by the viewer when looking at the image.

Just how open to interpretation “representation” is, just how ambiguous it can be, is highlighted by the following:

“The idea that the more transformed or ‘aetheticized’ an image is, the less ‘authentic’ or politically valuable it becomes, is one that needs to be seriously questioned …. To represent is to aestheticize: that is, to transform. It presents a vast field of choices but it does not include the choice not to transform, not to change or alter whatever is being represented. It cannot be a pure process in practice. This goes for photography as well as for any other means of representation”. (Strauss, 2003 as cited in Price, 2015, pp. 88-89).

So, what does Barthes mean by stating that the power of authentication exceeds the power of representation?

My interpretation is that Barthes is suggesting that whilst the reality regarding a subject can be misrepresented, the fact that the subject existed is undeniable.

But I think it goes beyond that. I think Barthes is trying to express that there is a form of hierarchy existing between authenticity and representation, with authenticity taking precedence over representation. After all, what is representation if that which is being represented is false? For the representation to have any meaning there has to be some authentication.

Do I agree with Barthes?

Well, yes and no.

Again, this comes down to the context in which any given image is viewed, and what expectations we associate with that context. When we look to be informed about world events, we expect the images that we view to have integrity which is beyond any form of doubt. Alternatively, we expect some images to distort an existing reality, or even to create a reality all of their own – fantasy art images meet this expectation.

How does this impact on my photographic practice?

I think it is important to operate within a framework of professional standards. Analysing “authenticity” and “representation” has highlighted the need to be aware of the appropriate time and place to offer work having the highest possible value as a documentary source and to be aware of the equally appropriate time and place to offer work that is, by design, fantasy. That is not to suggest that “constructed” images are made without integrity. The integrity of images, and hence the integrity of the photographer and the wider photographic “establishment”, is brought into question when “constructed” images are passed off, or “represented” as being authentic.

In summary, then, whilst recognising the need for artistic licence in some contexts, there is a direct link between “authenticity”, “representation” and the audience: horses for courses.

Barthes, R. (1981) Camera Lucida: Reflections on Photography. New York: Hill and Wang

Price, D. (2015) ‘Surveyors and Surveyed’, in WELLS, L. (ed) Photography – A Critical Introduction, Oxon: Routledge, 90-93

Scruton, R. (1981) ‘Photography and Representation’, Critical Inquiry, vol. 7, No. 3 (Spring, 1981), pp. 577-603 [Online]. Available at: http://www.jstor.org/stable/1343119 (Accessed 29 January 2017)

Tagg, J. (1988) ‘The Burden of Representation’ PhotoPedagogy [Online]. Available at: http//www.photopedagogy.com/john-tagg.html (Accessed 30 January 2017)

The ontological nature of my photographic practice … …

The “characteristics” of my photographic practice took some time and thought to identify: I think we are much more accustomed to thinking about our photographic “style” than we are of thinking about our photography in terms of characteristics.

Szarkowski identifies the “actual” as one of five characteristics of photography. By this he refers to the reality of the situation where the photographer decides to capture a specific moment in time, photographing what is there, and uses that reality to infer something beyond – that which is seen and that which is not seen.

Does this perceived reality apply equally to all genres of photography?

One area where it may not hold quite so true is that of still-life food photography where images contain an element of both selection and synthesis –  the photographer chooses the subject and its environment (selection) which are then arranged to produce a visually appealing composition (synthesis).

The still-life photographer can exercise control over almost every aspect of a photograph including, for example, the texture and colour of the background.

This is in contrast to some types of photography where the photographer has less control over the subject and its environment, for example, street photography where the level of “control” the photographer has over the subject and the environment is limited to where to frame up and when to press the shutter release (excepting post-production manipulation of course).

Time is also given by Szarkowski as a characteristic of photography. This ties in with Cartier-Bresson’s “decisive moment” where the photographer needs to decide when to operate the shutter mechanism: knowing when to press the shutter can mean the difference between “taking” and “making” a photograph. This implies a pre-obtained knowledge of events, for example, an awareness that a person’s image will be reflected in a window as they pass by a shop and knowing when to release the shutter in order to capture the person and their reflection.

You bring your own time to still-life photography. Images are constructed, possibly over lengthy periods of time taking into account the lapse between the initial spark of an idea and the final image being produced with small, incremental and progressive adjustments being made in order to achieve an abstract reality and add detail, another characteristic identified by Szarkowski, bringing authenticity to a less than real reality for the still-life photographer.

Shore describes prints as being “flat” and having “edges”. However, what I strive for as a photographer is realistic two-dimensional representation of a three-dimensional experience. Again, detail plays a large part in achieving this, as does the skilful use of photographic equipment.

As stated in “Photography, Photographies”, Szarkowski’s characteristics focus on the photographer. However, I feel it extends beyond that with many of the characteristics relating to the way we operate our cameras with timing, for example, being linked to shutter speed, framing being linked to focal length, and the “actual” and detail being closely associated with the framing of the subject.

Perhaps, then, Szarkowski’s “characteristics” are as relevant when we actually take a photograph, the physical process of taking a photograph, as when we think about how, when, where and by whom the image will be consumed.

At this juncture, my photographic practice is split into two discrete areas: commercial and project work.

To date, commercial work, has been undertaken on a project brief basis for small, independent organisations operating in catering and food retail. Consequently, contexts for this type of work have been printed work, magazines, promotional literature and websites.

This area of work is greatly removed from my project work, the contexts for which are mainly my CRJ to date with an online gallery being in development.

Evaluating my photographic practice in terms of characteristics has been an interesting and enlightening process for me, one which has certainly given me a lot to think about.

Where is my current practice?

My area of interest is food photography. This genre of photography has a particular ability to appeal to me, to grab my attention – something resonates with me.

Food photography is ubiquitous with the majority of photographs being made to support recipes and, consequently, existing almost exclusively in recipe books and magazines. Comparatively, very few images are made to exist in their own right – as pieces of art.

Initially, the images I made fell into this category. OK, they were taken by me to be photographs of interest, the intention being for people to look at the images for their visual appeal and not purely to see how a recipe might or should turn out. But, the style was conforming to the generic “commercial” formula.

I want my photography to develop. I want my work to progress to a point where it successfully occupies a niche: to be different, unique, attention grabbing, visually appealing, going beyond a mere commercial brief.

It is my belief that images of food can, and should, exist as standalone works of art with a beauty and appeal of their own. To be different and make this kind of image has been a conscious choice.

I think I have found some success in being able to previsualise the images I want to make and subsequently achieve this vision – even if my images had a more “editorial” style in the early days.

Being self-critical isn’t something that comes easily to me. I know when I am satisfied with an image and it is of a standard where I am happy to look at my image myself and to share it with others. I also know when I am not. However, this has generally been an instinctive feeling as opposed to something rationalised and related to critical thinking.

So, being self-critical is something I have had to work at. Have my images “suffered” as a result, or more correctly, has my photographic progress and development been retarded by that?

Very possibly. And that is a weakness I am addressing.

How do I see my photography progressing?

First and foremost, I think it is important that I learn from my failures as much as I do from my successes. Ambiguity can be a good thing because, if you accept it, it forces you to interrogate things more thoroughly.

Elaborating on that, the feedback from the first assignments was most enlightening and has given me a considerable amount to think about.

With that in mind, I plan to continue to explore the knowledge and techniques used by the great masters to produce their amazing still-life images. This investigation will concentrate on three specific areas: the techniques and equipment they used to control light, their knowledge of compositional techniques, and their use of symbolism and their sources of knowledge for this.

Will this help me to successfully occupy a niche? On its own, possibly not and a lot would depend on execution.

I certainly think that this will help me to occupy a niche. My intention is to develop my storytelling ability. Yes, I want to produce beautiful images which have their own visual appeal, but that doesn’t mean that they have to be devoid of meaning.

Food is absolutely essential to our existence, that much is obvious but what may not be so obvious is that we seem to treat our food as a very “disposable” commodity – something largely taken for granted, the way we produce it and consume it (or not) raises some ethically complex issues.

Combining the results of my investigations into the work of the Dutch masters with subject matter which explores our relationship with food, using the former to support the latter, will allow me to produce images which are unique in their nature.

Additionally, I will experiment with post-production techniques with a view to giving my images a “painterly” aesthetic and have a plan to do this which includes, for example, the use of textures, underlays and overlays.

I have a target market in mind and I am researching this further, clarifying and defining the “audience” for my work. Additionally, I am researching how notable photographers have successfully defined their target market and subsequently presented their offerings.

Morris, 2016. Still-life with Citrus Fruit

Morris, 2016. Still-life with Orange and Walnuts

Morris, 2016. Tomato Soup