Photojournalism

But modification after documentation isn't the only way that truth can be compromised.  Most of the choices the photographer makes about accurate documentation actually take place at the time that the photo is taken.  Take, for example, Castle Doune in Scotland:

The infamous castle where, among many things, a cow is thrown over the wall in one of my favorite childhood movies, Monty Python and the Holy Grail.  This was to be the highlight of the trip for me.  Imagine my shock when I discovered that the castle was a farce - it was hollow on the inside.  After passing through the front entrance, the inside was just as plain as the lawn on the outside.  There was no roof to the castle, and certainly no way to get animals high enough up to hurl them over the wall.  I had been fooled by images from 1975 that implied this castle was as real as I had imagined it to be.

A photo cannot tell its own truth or reality.  Photos serve as evidence to reinforce a narrative or a story, but cannot stand alone as a representation of truth.  A photo must be accompanied by a history, story, explanation, or caption to explain what the photo is, when the photo was, or what conditions were taking place that established the photo. 

Time is most important when it comes to truth in photography.  To be truth, a photo must be accompanied by a "born on" date like on Budweiser bottles.  A photograph of a child doesn't tell us any truth unless we know how old the child is.  A photo of Baghdad says
nothing unless the viewer knows if it was taken five days ago or five years ago. Without a background to a photo, all that's left is just an image.  It holds no more truth than a doodle on a piece of notebook paper.

#2
Are you better in front or behind the camera?  How does it feel to be photographed?
I have a double standard about photography that I can't even attempt to deny.  I hate having pictures of myself taken.  I don't want others to see them, and I don't want to see them myself.  I have a few photos of myself on my laptop and a few Internet profiles here and there, but even those are few and far between.  I avoid the image I see looking back in my mirror and photos of myself so much, I would probably adjust to life as a vampire with little transition.  I already love the night time so much, I'd just have to get used to that whole blood thing.

Back at a Christian school I used to attend, we had a PE teacher in 5th grade who never appeared in the yearbook because it was against her religion to be photographed.  She explained that taking a picture of someone is like plucking off a rose petal and keeping it. Essentially by giving someone a picture of you, you're giving them a piece of your soul - they own a little bit of who you are.  As more and more people take a petal, there is less left behind to give to God.   Suddenly one day you realize that you have nothing left to give to Him; that everyone else already owns a part of you.

OK, OK.  Yes, it's a crazy theory and I don't really believe in God, but she kind of had a good point.  Maybe I don't want other people to have a piece of me.  Maybe I'm the kind of individual that would prefer to keep to myself, or rather, keep myself to myself. Or maybe I'm just looking for cheap, religious justification when I duck out of photos or turn my head away when someone tries to snap my picture.

The whole double standard comes in to play when I'm holding a camera in my own hands.  The only people I ever give the courtesy of asking before I take a photo are perfect strangers. Friends and those I associate with get no warning.  I have more embarrassing, ugly, and just plain bad pictures of my friends than they know about.  I don't intentionally try to catch people at their worst, it just happens.

I'm also one of those people who just pretends to delete the photos out of my camera when people ask me to.  I never do.

#3What is Visual Impact?  List examples you have seen?
To me, visual impact is a is a little neuron that fires somewhere in the brain.  It's a level of understanding that could almost be conveyed without any other means than the visual senses.  It's a message that can be understood with little explanation because the picture itself does most of the talking.  Photos with strong visual impact often require the viewer to put image and knowledge together.  It demands one level above casually glancing at a photo to receive the visual impact.

Here in Toronto, the Chinese population grows and flourishes every year.  This photo's visual impact demonstrates this.  In the backdrop of a English-speaking Canadian city, the ever-present Chinese culture has been pasted overtop of the previous culture.  The impact in this photo is the moose, a very Canadian symbol, almost disguised by the elements of Chinese culture. 

In downtown Tokyo, space is an ever-present consideration.  On a densely populated island, there is often nowhere to build but up. The visual impact of this photo demonstrates this verticilization of life in Japan, even in what they do with their dead.

Ask any Scottish native their favorite movie and most people will pick the 1995 United States blockbuster Braveheart, the story of the Scottish hero who battles to overthrow the English rule. Wallace has been celebrated by Scots since the 13th century, but it wasn't until the 90's that there was a major motion picture to put a face on their hero.  That face was Mel Gibson, now immortalized in stone several hundred feet below at the entrance to the actual Wallace monument.  Old pictures and drawings of the Scottish Wallace have disappeared to be replaced the face of our New York native, their hero Mel Gibson.

This photo from Montreal last year needs little explanation because its visual impact explains it all.  The upside down flag, the swastika, and the plea to God explain one Canadian view of the USA.

#4What moral obligations (if any) do photographers have?
If any morality exists in photography, it lies in the how we treat subject.  If the subject of the photo is aware of photography and the function of the camera, then they are also aware of your intentions when you point the camera at them. 

I like to think of it like publicly gawking at someone with your mouth open.  If I were to walk to the edge of the Grand Canyon, it would be perfectly acceptable to stand eyes wide, mouth open, and take in the scenery.  However, if I were to come across a parapalegic eating a sandwich, it would be inappropriate for me to stand, mouth open, gawking at this person.  It would be obvious that my reason for gawking was because the person was strange to me.  With one action, I'd be conveying that their entire way of life is strange to me.  I'd be willing to take a picture, but not to trade places. In cases like this, a simple "May I?" would suffice. 

In the Scottish town of Stirling, I walked by an event that was both public and private.  A restaurant called Wistlebinkies was spending what would be their last day open to the public catering to a couple who had just gotten married.  Weddings are a private event between two people, but I wasn't the only person who was gawking and the people at the reception were aware of it.  Even in Scotland, men in skirts are very aware that they still get noticed.  In this case, taking a picture was acceptable.  A wedding is a way for a couple to brag about their relationship success, so little privacy should be granted.

I asked this man in Chicago if he wouldn't mind if I took a picture.  I had a feeling that he was going to let me take the picture, but I offered him $5.00 anyway.  Somehow, if I walked by and took his picture without his permission, I would feel like I had deliberatly kicked dirt on the guy.

However, my moral obligations are voluntary and can be turned off and on at will, much like I did at the Strawberry Festival in Cedarburg.  If I see a manatee cleverly disguised as a tropical vacation while hovering over a plate of free cookies, I can't help myself.

My other thought on moral obligations is that they're only applicable to the living.  Ethics only apply to the people, not their bodies.  If you come across a dead body in a creek, snap away!  If a journalist wants to photograph and publish the fatalities from an exploded car bomb, then by all means do it.  When a person dies, all that's left behind is nothing more than people-shaped litter.  When we bury a person, we're not really doing anything but disposing of the garbage they were too dead to dispose of themselves.  The body is nothing more than the wrapping paper on a gift.  When the gift is gone, there isn't anything sacred about used wrapping paper with no gift inside.

#5What do you wish you could have a photograph of?
Me! 
My childhood has gone missing!
My dad is one of those incredibly meticulous and detailed people who never throw anything away because they might just need it some day.  My brother has a big, fat photo album for every year of his life up until he was in the fifth grade.  He documented everything from "Robert's first solid poop" to "First tree climbed by Robert."  His entire childhood is extensively documented, which is incredibly easy to do for a home-schooled child. 

My photos?  Oh yeah, they started just fine.  I was one of those babies that came out all icky and yellow and had to live in the hospital's incubator for a few weeks.  Somehow by the time I got out, my father had an entirely new outlook on his photography.  He either added up the cost of all the film he was using, or maybe he just noticed that I was an ugly baby. 

I have one photo album.  It starts with my brother (go figure) and my dad posing around pictures of my mom's pregnant stomach.  The album later transitions into photos before and at the hospital.  A good portion of my album consists of pictures of a disgusting, naked baby me inside the hospital incubator, eyes closed and yellow skin.  Right after that, a photo of me standing in front of a Cessna 172 with my private pilot's license at 17.  Right after that, high school graduation.  Now my memory might be a little blurred with the whole lack of documentation an' all, but I'm pretty sure there was a lot more that could have been photographed between the life stages of three weeks to seventeen years.  There's no such thing as a yearbook or class photos in home schooling, so I'll just have to assume I was far too ugly of a child for documentation.

posted by Fergison @ 10.1.06