Photographs are omnipresent in our daily lives. From social media and advertising to family photos hanging on your wall. Images are used for identification and as evidence, as well as informing us at a cultural level about who we are.
In the previous essay, I introduced a couple of imaginary photographs. The first, an old woman celebrating her birthday with family and friends; the second a photograph of a man seated in a chair, attentive to something out of frame.
This is the third essay in this series, and it begins a smaller sequence of notes running over the ways we as viewers make sense of pictures. We spend, I think, too much time thinking about what happens before and during the making of a picture, but not enough on what happens when someone actually looks at it. For most of us, for most pictures, surely this is the most interesting time?
In the previous essay, I made an argument that photographs (and things that are like photographs) metaphorically transport us into the scene of the photo. We react, body and mind, a little bit as if we were actually present.
Pinball machines; depending on your age, you might know all about them. Once, considered so evil that New York City banned them. Wasted youths (juvenile delinquents) spent days and nights hanging out in pinball palaces. They were so ubiquitous, “The Who” even made them a central part of their rock opera, “Tommy.”
I recently arrived at what I think is a worthwhile insight into the lenses I use. The material that follows should become instantly obvious once read, but the several photographers I discussed this with all commented that they had never thought of the matter that way and that it was worth some thought. Those comments inspired me to share my viewpoint here.
"That Man is the product of causes which had no prevision of the end they were achieving; that his origin, his growth, his hopes and fears, his loves and his beliefs, are but the outcome of accidental collocations of atoms
In an April 2016 interview, Mark Zuckerberg told Buzzfeed News, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you fast-forward five years and most of the content that people see on Facebook and are sharing on a day-to-day basis is video.”
I have these utopic dreams of a “perfect” camera. I want a camera that makes photos that are ultra-sharp, yet soft, affordable, yet fits in my front pocket, yet has tons of megapixels, yet can zoom to see anything but wide enough to shoot interiors.
I see this sight with increasing frequency: people holding up their phone in front of their face, recording a cool event or situation, like a concert or speech, watching the three-dimensional live event through a tiny screen.
Recently, a friend told me of a photographer for whom he wanted to work. The seasoned fine art photographer, in his 50s, took a look at my friend’s 5x7 prints, taken on an assortment of digital and analog cameras, and said "These are not photos. Wait here."
Suppose Apple hadn't abandoned its digital camera business. What effect would Steve Jobs and his team have had on the cameras we use today? Photo enthusiast Karim Ghantous thought about this recently, and came up with the following list of things he thinks Jobs might have pushed for.