Exercise - Getting the Parr Feel

This morning I've been practising with my flashgun. The exercise involves making work like Martin Parr. I thought I'd start off by practising indoors on some bright and shiny objects. The images look quite 'harsh' and I've cranked up the contrast and colour saturation. This step was easy and now I really need to go outside and take some more in daylight this time. The object of shooting flash outside is to learn how to successfully balance ambient light with the use of flash to get those strident colours so characteristic of much of Parr's work. I'm not sure about photographing strangers using my flash though - I think that is a step too far. I will try to make some people shots with friends and family with this exercise.

Psychoanalysis and the Photographer - University of Westminster

I attended a seminar on Saturday and one of the speakers was Darian Leader, a psychoanalyst. I was intrigued by what he had to say regarding the way we look at, and are looked at by others. He spoke about scopic drive and scopic desire, explaining that when we look or are looked at there is:

scopic desire, that can be thought of as like a quest - such as the search for the Holy Grail. In other words, the desire to find something in what we see.

scopic drive on the other hand, can be seen as the drive to lose something - think the Lord of the Rings; a journey to get rid of something.

So when we look we either want to find or lose something. It occurred to me that this thought process is independent from what we look at. For example an image of a teddy bear could incite in the viewer feelings of nostalgia, longing, or fear - depending on the viewers own memories and experiences. I guess this is where the idea of scopic drive and scopic desire comes into play.

Leader also spoke about emotions being sometimes too much to bear and that they can create bodily tension. I am intrigued by this notion and as a photographer I realised that the physicality of this concept is a good way to visually express an emotion or metaphor in an image.

He also made a very interesting observation about the gaze of the other. He pointed out that when we are looked at we have no defence from the gaze of another. That look could be friendly, puzzled, disgusted, hostile - how do we interpret and internalise that look? Does it form part of our own self image?

He spoke about 'presence and absence' and how looking and not looking creates a structure. How the subject follows or does not follow the gaze of the other and that we are always looking in relation to what someone else is looking at.

He mentions how we defend ourselves from the look. How we use masks, screens, etc, to distract the look of the other away from ourselves. In the animal world this defence works when a lizard loses its tail, a bird loses feathers, and in the human world masks attract the evil eye and artists create work to keep away the gaze of the other.

I found the talks quite inspiring and a lot to take in. I need more time to think and assimilate and I can certainly see myself incorporating aspects of the interpretation of the look into my own work.

Anthony Luvera: Assembly - Brighton Biennial

On reading the photographer's supporting statement for 'Assembly' it is clear that Luvera works in collaboration with groups of people over a period of time, producing what he terms 'Assisted Self-Portraits'. His work is collaborative, providing technical and artistic support to his subjects as they work together, talk over issues, and move towards producing a final self-portrait that the subject feels best represents them. The sessions can take a number of weeks and Luvera makes use of digital medium format, voice recorders and disposable cameras. Luvera's projects have covered queer identity and I was hoping to get a glimpse of his Queer Brighton work at the Biennial but seemed to have missed it somehow.

The Assembly work deals with homelessness and all his portrait projects feed into his long term goal of making Assisted Self-Portraits that are collaborative 'exploring the tension between authorship (or artistic control) and participation, and the ethics involved in representing other people's lives.' Brighton Photo Fringe (2014).

Unfortunately a photo book fair was taking place in this exhibition space and the place was packed with people browsing the books. It wasn't possible to stand and view Luvera's work without feeling that I was in someones way.

There was a discussion amongst the group afterwards in relation to the way in which the portraits all look like they are posed in a similar way. Some of the students felt that Luvera still had too much artistic control over the subjects for the work to be truly participatory. I can see that whilst working with a photographer over a period of time, looking at portraits and other work, the group could form a consensus about how they think they should appear in a piece of photographic art. The group dynamic itself can influence thinking and outcomes. I can see where the 'tension' element comes into play as the whole process is changing the way the subjects view themselves and the end portrait could be wholly different from one taken at the start of the process.

Reference:

BFP14 (2014) Assembly Anthony Luvera.

Amore E Piombo (Years of Lead) - Brighton Biennial

This exhibition takes work from the photographic archive of Team Editorial Services, a photographic agency based in Rome. The selected images taken by the agency's photographers documented the extreme political situation in the late 1960s and 70s. I know nothing about this period of Italian history but the exhibition curated by Roger Hargreaves and Federica Chiocchetti proved very informative. Around the walls were old wooden bookcases. The framed images placed on the shelves showed gritty black and white scenes of street violence and extremism in the photojournalistic tradition. Mixed in with these were images of the popular celebrities of the time. The photographers were constantly shifting between these two worlds in their work for the agency.

Along one of the walls a large printed poster showed a collection of images showing the juxtaposition of violence, sex and entertainment. For me this brought to mind the Society of the Spectacle. The way in which the media mixes up and packages all sorts of images for consumption. The violence is reduced to the level of drama for consumption by the masses with light relief provided by film stars that take the edge off the more political shenanigans taking place behind the scenes.

  

In the centre of the room a collection of variously sized plinths held graphic images of death on the street. Bodies leaking blood from assassinations were framed and placed face up on the plinths. I felt like I was moving through a series of tombs towards a large monument that stood at the head of the room. This moment or memorial had a collection of colour images that referred to the assassination of Aldo Moro, the Italian president, who had been taken hostage by a political organisation. I think it was Gareth Dent that mentioned they reminded him of floral tributes placed against a memorial.

Behind the plinth and hidden away, were other images that hinted at subterfuge and secret political dealings. Overall the exhibition was curated in such a way that it felt to me that it raised questions about the nature of society and how much decision making and control is hidden away from the general populace. These questions are just as relevant today as they were back then.

Research Point: Contemporary Awareness 1

Richard Billingham - Ray's A Laugh

Ray's a Laugh

The first few times that I looked at the work of Richard Billingham's 'Ray's A Laugh' project, I was struck by the strong narrative dynamic unfolding within the photo-story. In his photographs the subjects are always on the move as they fight, argue, avoid flying cats, or in the case of Ray, keel over from too much drink. Even when at rest, seated or slumped on the ground, there is a sense of impending conflict about to flare up again. The main strength of the work comes from the opportunity to be able to be so close to a subject and yet go unobserved. The photographer is completely embedded in the situations unfolding and his unrestricted access has furnished him with some very strong images. These characters are Billingham's own family and  looking at other work by Billingham since, I think that Ray's A Laugh remains his most influential piece of work to date.

I have engaged with the work a number of times now and the narrative element although still very strong has subsided somewhat and I find myself admiring the colour tones and aesthetic of the work too. Liz in particular, with her colourful and highly patterned dresses always catch my eye. The image of her stretched out on a couch has a very Odalisque pose about it; one that must have been encouraged, if not observed, by Billingham who was an art student at the time. Another similar image of Liz, seated by a highly complex jigsaw puzzle with many scattered and colourful pieces that compete with her equally opulent dress, also seems to incorporate a sense of richness and vibrant squalor. I feel these aesthetic elements pull the whole work together in a way that I had not consciously noticed before.

The images have a snapshot quality to them. They are in a similar tradition to Nan Goldin's work, although the difference is that Goldin herself is often featured and Billingham stays firmly behind the camera. Goldin's photographs feel more formally composed. They have more of a sense of calmness about them that is absent in Billingham's work. There is also the sense of a subversion of the 'family album' aesthetic in both of these practitioners work. Real conflicts would never normally appear between the pages of a traditional family album as they tend to follow a much more rigid and structured format that portray the 'good times'.



Briony Campbell - The Dad Project

The Dad Project

The Dad Project also takes a look at personal relations within the photographer's family. This project looks at the end of a life. Campbell uses film, stills, music, recorded dialogue, and family album imagery to pull together an effective portrait of her father as he approaches death. The dying father articulates his fears of not being able to continue to support his family or watch it grow and change. In turn the children and wife provide reassurance and the whole package is very poignant and skilfully edited.

Again the main strength of the Dad Project is the photographer's closeness to her subject, providing her with access at a time that would normally be closed off to outsiders. Campbell covers a sensitive subject matter with honesty and integrity. The pace of the work was gentle and reflective but by using various different elements, stills, album snaps, soundtrack, the visual language is dynamic and therefore held the viewers interest. Unlike 'Ray's A Laugh' Campbell used a number of self portraits in the piece, often holding her camera, as she documented her father's decline. This time family album images that portray the good times are used; they poignantly highlight the father's spoken dialogue as he speaks about his feelings of not being able to be the person he once was within his family.



David Gillanders - The 13th Floor

The 13th Floor

David Gillander's photo-story for German GEO magazine follows the lives of a couple and their children living in a damp and cramped housing block in Scotland. The images portray the poverty of the subjects lives and is filmed in black and white. The choice to not use colour is interesting. Social Documentary and Photojournalism has traditionally shied away from using colour for both technical and artistic reasons. Black and white images do tend to add depth and a sense of gritty realism to images. This can lull the view into believing that black and white images are more real than colour, when in fact both mediums are actually part of a hyper reality.

Unlike the previous two photographers in this post Gillanders is not related to his subjects. The work was part of an ongoing personal project that was subsequently funded by a magazine. Gillanders would have to have worked hard to gain the trust of the family and apparently as is often the case lived with them for a few days at a time to obtain his images. I wonder how differently the family reacted to a stranger in their household compared to Briony Campbell or Richard Billinghams subjects. Did they act up for the cameras - conscious that they were in front of a camera that would eventually lead to publication of their images? And is that any different to any subject that knows they are part of a piece of work?

There are no real detail shots in the work. The focus is always directly on the action, mostly taken in the middle distance, and follows the subjects closely. The work is similar to Billingham's 'Ray's a Laugh' in this respect although the colour tones soften Billingham's work and make more of an artistic statement. Gillanders black and white images follow the tradition of black and white Social Documentary.



Albrecht Tupke - 

Albrecht Tupke

It is difficult to see the work of Albrecht Tupke as forming part of the Social Documentary genre. His portrait work has a typological slant to it. The subjects are always posed in a similar fashion facing the camera and shown full body - similar in style to Rineke Dijkstra. Some of the subjects are approached on the street so I can see that there is a Social Documentary element present but the work appears to address wider themes relating to humankind (the gaze, representation, masks,) than the more focused themes that a Social Documentary photographer would usually follow. The work is more likely to be made for the gallery than a publication. With that said there is a lot of cross-over between genres these days and the categories themselves are not always that helpful.

Tupke's work has a very different feel to it. Apart from the typological aspect the images appear to be exposed towards the high-key range so they are very light. They make quite a contrast to the black and white and darker look of much Social Documentary. The photographer also creates other typologies, animals, objects, landscapes, etc.

Joan Fontcuberta - Stranger Than Fiction

It is very easy to take a stroll though the Stranger Than Fiction exhibition and be amused by the fakery of it all; after all who doesn't enjoy seeing body parts of various animals joined together and shown as real specimens in glass cases; or fake plaster casts of fossilised mermaids, supposedly discovered on archaeological field trips; star charts that are really photographic paper taped to a car windscreen and driven through the night, to end up covered in constellations - that are actually insect smudges...

But, once I saw past the highly creative and entertaining aspect of this exhibition by Joan Fontcuberta I began to ask the real questions. The ones around the notion of truth. How can we know that what is presented to us is real or factual? Just because a museum exhibits an animal in a glass display case or an archive collection of plant photographs should we just blindly accept that they are the real deal? We do though. We treat the museum as a sacred space - one of science, knowledge and learning that isn't to be questioned. We know that science gets it wrong though as over time hypotheses taken as fact can turn out to be proved incorrect. We also assume that science is unbiased and neutral. When people and money are involved science is often used to promote an ideological or political position. Just look at the smoking lobby that for many decades has used science to further its own agenda. Not to mention the whole Eugenics debacle between the world wars.

Religion also gets a scathing sideswipe by Foncuberta. His section on miracles uses digitally manipulated images that show priests surfing on sharks or teaching meercats to read from holy scripts. The photographic documentary proof is there to be seen at the Media Space in the Science Museum - it must be true.

Fontcuberta works very hard in this exhibition to provide supporting documentation and artifacts to back up his work. They help to validate the photographs. If you can read the letter sent to a colleague regarding a mysterious animal species, and then look at the old black and white picture of a white-coated scientist holding it up for the camera, then it is very convincing. As a viewer of the work I found myself sucked into the created worlds of each piece and the minute attention to detail in creating objects, back-story, characters and images.

I can see how these kind of constructed images along with supporting documentation could fit within my own practice. For my next assignment I want to work in a similar way, not only creating staged images but going deeper and making artifacts too that help to substantiate the story that I am trying to tell.

Fontcuberta wants us to look at these representational aspects of our society. How we are so easily duped and controlled by our political leaders and ruling elites. How evidence, records, photographs, are too easily assumed to be a factual representation of the truth that cannot be questioned. We can't question everything. We don't have the time. We have to take on faith that a lot of what we are told is factually correct. But at least it helps to be aware that some, if not most of, the time we are being duped.

Francesca Woodman - Study Visit

The exhibition of Francesca Woodman's work at The Miro gallery was simply laid out in the tiny gallery space - just a single room really, with a section off to the side. The images were small, square in format (mostly), and hung in grey frames with generous white borders. As one of my fellow OCA students observed, the size, frames, and mounts seemed to 'contain' the work.

Thinking about this comment later I find it to be very true. Woodman's images are complex and surreal; juxtapositions between objects and the subject - namely Woodman herself, posed mostly naked or sometimes wearing shoes or single items of clothing, can be difficult to read. They are bursting with richly complex meanings and suggestions of intent. I feel the choice and size of hanging seemed to shut that down to some extent. I'm not saying the images should be huge but printing the photographs larger would have helped me to navigate the visual complexity to be found in her work. With that said the gallery space is small so the choice of small images is probably wise to avoid a feeling of overcrowding.

It is clear from the images (mostly taken in an abandoned house) that Woodman is working through her artistic process. Woodman is playing with materials, objects, poses, using her own body to ask questions about herself and the wider world. I find the images fascinating in this respect and can relate this process to myself and the way in which I approach making work. I only wish I was as daring as this young woman and could unburden myself of many of my own hangups around my body that come with age and maturity.

The theme chosen for the exhibition was the compositional use of the zig-zag. I found this idea to be somewhat annoying to be honest. I have always approached Woodman's images from the viewpoint of content and meaning - tried to decode the images. 'Why has she placed herself naked in a glass display case with stuffed animals?' 'Why peel the paper from the walls of an abandoned house and try to position herself between the torn sheets and wall?' 'Why the strange blurring of hands and head at times?' Some of my favourite Woodman images were absent from the exhibition as these did not fit the zig-zag theme. The concept is different, I suppose, and as someone else pointed out it does help to lighten the mood of the exhibition and unburden the viewer of the baggage that one brings to reading a Woodman image. It is hard to distance oneself from the knowledge that Woodman committed suicide at 22 and look for a troubled mind in the darker elements of her work.

There is a kind of formal, Modernist element to Woodman's work. The square format (making all four edges of the frame equally powerful) reinforces the compositional and aesthetic aspects. Woodman is very adept with these skills. But looking at the exhibition from a curatorial point of view, should her intrinsic ability to make work in this way be foregrounded? It seems to me that side of Woodman is a background skill - albeit one used with strong effect to convey her intent. The content and meaning of Woodman's work speaks to me much more strongly than her compositional skills or dalliance with the zig-zag - one that might have lasted no more than for a small series of images (when flipping through a book of her work the zig-zag as a recurring motif does not particularly stand out from any other compositional element). Using the zig-zag motif seems to me to trivialise her images. Although to be fair, in the side gallery is a larger image, constructed of multiple photographs, in a linear format. Woodman's comments can be read and it is clear that she is trying to use the form of the zig-zag to match the images together. My concern is was this just a small part of her artistic process; one that has been blown up and taken to an extreme to try and encompass more of her images than is necessary? Unfortunately Woodman is not around to confirm or deny.