Maybe I am a boring person i hope I am not sometimes

The most irritating and saddest thing Message sent Message seen Ignored and still online And you can’t really be Angry on them Or nor can’t ask them Nor gonna reply until we message something…

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Photography and the Importance of Context

Exploring the relationship between the audience and the photographer, and the nature of the creative process

The discussion of any art form has often become maligned by the pursuit to understand works both objectively and subjectively, but never delving beyond the superficially present and easily critiqued; indeed, Ansel Adams critiqued this aspect, saying “A photograph is usually looked at — seldom looked into” (Lyons, 1966). This relationship between the photographer and audience is oft a one-way street, the audience having very little feedback into the creative process, only being able to observe the final output of creative work. Due to this, the audience is often left without the understanding of what has gone into the creative process, putting the work up on a pedestal and demanding that it be taken at face value — the irony at the heart of Adams’ words and that of the photographic message, is that one can rarely look into a work without truly understanding the intricacies behind the artistic and creative process. The audience can only look around, searching for environmental context or pre-established introspective understanding, to formulate a subjective understanding of any work.

There are multiple contexts in which the audience’s perception can be, and will be, shaped by — these have dramatic effects on not only the public perception of the piece, but effects the connotations that go along with the piece. In a way, the form of publishing art, specifically photography and the nature of the relationship with the audience, has facilitated the means by which the audience can, effectively, take ownership of the work — through subjective interpretation, objective moral stipulation, the audience embodies what Barthes called ‘the photographic paradox’ and ‘the death of the author’ (Barthes, 1977). The environment in which a photograph is published or viewed, the context of the subject present in the photograph, accompanying context provided by the photographer, these are all things that shape the perception of the audience — but can the context of knowing the creative process effect these? The audience takes the word of the photographer as objective fact, but would this change if presented with the process undertaken by the photographer?

This famous photo by Fred Morley is, in fact, staged. Taken the morning after serious bombing of London from the Luftwaffe, Morley hoped to capture the tenacity and sensibility of the British workers who continued to do their jobs, despite the serious damage. One individual he encountered was a milkman, from whom he asked if he could borrow his jacket and milk crate; he then asked his assistant to dress up and pose as the milkman, as seen in the photo.

Whilst the produced photo has been carefully posed and framed, its basis is in reality — the question that we must then ask is, if we know that the photo we’ve seen has been posed, does this water down the authenticity and the real narrative that serves as the foundation for this? When we consider the medium by which this photo would have been presented as well, through a newspaper, does this staged authenticity twist the narrative in a negative way, once the audience is made aware? Granted, there are many other factors that would effect the way an audience member would perceive the photo when presented in a newspaper, namely “the [surrounding] text, the title, the caption, the layout and, in a more abstract but no less ‘informative’ way, by the very name of the newspaper” (Barthes, 1977).

Given attitudes of the British Censors at the time the photo was taken, the deliberation to evoke a specific mood in the photo and its subsequent effectiveness, it could be argued that it does not really matter, and that the photo still succeeds in presenting its themes. Whilst not at all scientific, conducting a small Twitter poll revealed that, for the majority, not many people were bothered by the reveal that the photo was staged — indeed, some appreciated that, whilst their understanding of how the photo came about had changed, they still felt that the photo effectively communicated the themes presented.

The nature of Morely’s work and the circumstances of its creative process are an investigation of the ‘internal context’ of the photograph, that being the ‘photograph’s subject matter, medium, form, and the relations among the three’ (Barrett, 2006). The internal context of the photo being staged is not readily apparent and, in the instance of what it’s trying to represent, does not inadvertently ruin or dampen the effect of the photo. Even when we consider the photo’s ‘external context’, being ‘the situation in which a photograph is presented or found’ (Barrett, 2006), and it’s presence having been published in newspapers and its use by the British government, it does not take away from the core message of the photo.

Figure 2 — Jeff Wall, A Sudden Gust of Wind (After Hokusai), 1993

Exploring these contexts becomes increasingly more interesting when examining the works of other photographers, especially the above example of Jeff Wall’s ‘A Sudden Gust of Wind’. Having been developed over a long period of time, Wall photographed actors in the landscape, before then using digital-processing to collate the different elements into a single composition. Whilst an immediately striking photo, the very nature of its external context has come about through careful planning and digital composition. Whilst ‘The London Milkman’ utilises hyper-reality to present an authentic message, ‘A Sudden Gust of Wind’ is a fabricated construction of multiple elements.

Would the audience’s interpretation and response to the photo change if they were made aware of this? Do they have more respect for the art form? Does it even matter if they know? Should the viewers be made aware of this creative process, or should this be kept separate?

When we consider that Wall developed this work over a period of 5 months, working with different actors and around the weather to construct this, it’s easy to see how, even though it’s a fabricated composition, a huge amount of planning and thought went into the production.

Furthermore, it succeeds in its main aim, to recreate a classical painting — building on the previous contexts, the main internal context is that the piece is a recreation of Hokusai’s 1832 painting ‘Travellers Caught in a Sudden Breeze at Ejiri’.

Figure 3 — Katsushika Hokusai, Travellers Caught in a Sudden Breeze at Ejiri, 1832

Understanding this additional context changes how the audience might perceive the work — rather than being a staged, albeit effective, composition, it is now a carefully planned reconstruction, recontextualising both the themes and compositional/aesthetic elements of the original work. Knowing this context is not required, however, to understand Wall’s interpretation — instead, knowing the ‘original context’ can ‘add richness to our understanding’ (Barrett, 2006) of the photograph. In a sense, the creative process behind a photograph or work of art counts as a form of ‘internal, original context’ — knowledge of it isn’t necessary to understand the photo but knowing it can deepen our understanding. With the two previous examples, we understand that a lot of thought and planning went into capturing these compositions — Morley had to find a way around the British censors in order to capture both the devastation of London and the tenacity of it’s people in the face of it, whilst Wall endeavoured to recapture the mood of a classical painting, requiring a large amount of time in order to meet the same aesthetic and compositional style. Understanding the process behind these works deepens them, illustrates that more than just clicking a shutter occurred when capturing these compositions — an understanding and respect of the amount of work required can then be established, irrespective of whether individuals might find their impressions ruined or distorted by being aware of the staged/constructed elements.

Figure 4 — Robert Frank, Elevator — Miami Beach (from the series: The Americans), 1924

To a lesser extent, the process of capturing a specific composition multiple times and then isolating specific, ‘select’ shots in the darkroom or in post, counts as part of the creative process. Any selections, edits like colour changes, crops or removals, count as part of the overall creative process, informing the viewers understanding of the photo and its themes. To this end, looking at the work of Robert Frank highlights this process in action, and can be used as a point of comparison with my own work. In figure 4, we see the subject has taken on a dejected look — she still carries out her work as an elevator operator, but she’s running purely out of habit and automation, disconnected from those around her. In figure 5, we can see that this is not entirely the case — the contact sheet highlights that there were multiple attempts to take this composition, and Frank sparked some sort of conversation with her, as she was aware of his presence. This illustrates the creative process and changes how one might feel about the themes presented in the original photo.

Figure 5 — Robert Frank, Elevator — Miami Beach (Contact Sheet), 1924

Knowing this context means we can not only appreciate the amount of work and time that went into the photo, but also the creative relationship between the subject and Frank, something that is not apparent in the original photo. It also shifts the tone of the image, when compared with others in the same series.

Figure 6 (top) & figure (bottom) 7 — Joe Barnard, Taiwan — Street Market, 2018

A lot of my practice consists of street photography, ideally capturing the urban environment and an abstract sense of its inhabitants — I don’t particularly capturing portraits of people, but this is mostly down to confidence. None-the-less, I have ended up following a similar process as Frank and, I’m sure, many other photographers end up following when capturing street photography: whilst exploring, I have found a composition I like, or an environmental or aesthetical element that I hope to capture, I’ve then endeavoured to capture the composition as I first saw it. Elements may come and go, such as the yellow taxi, or the lady with the umbrella, whom became the central subject, all of which influence my decision making. When considering my later select, as seen in figure 7, I have gone through a process where I have looked at my series of photos and chosen the one that I believe closely resembles what I had envisioned when I first saw the composition. The context of this select is directly informed by the series of photos that had come before; if I had chosen my photos without having taken this process, I’m sure that my outcome would not be anywhere near as effective.

The creative process is an integral part of the internal context of every photo. Whether we acknowledge it or have a full understanding of it, it shapes our perception of all works of art — sometimes our respect of works can be totally shifted by our understanding of the creative process, as we can comprehend the work that has been put into the final piece, as opposed to just taking it at an objective, face value.

When we consider the relationship with the photographer, and the internal, creative process, it isn’t necessary to understand from an audience’s perspective, but it can most certainly aid in our pursuit of understanding what makes art and how to fathom the decision making of the artist. It is an important facet of being able to read art — as Ansel Adams said, understanding the creative process and the other internalised contexts can help us to ‘look into’ the photo.

Barrett, T., 2006. Criticizing Photographs: An Introduction to Understanding Images. 4th ed. New York: McGraw-Hill.

Barthes, R., 1977. Image, Music, Text. London: Fontana Press.

Carroll, H., 2018. Photographyers on Photography: How the Masters See, Think & Shoot. London: Laurence King Published LTD.

Lyons, N., 1966. In: Photographers on Photography: A Critical Anthology. s.l.:Prentice-Hall, p. 31.

Wells, L., 2015. Photography: A Critical Introduction. 5th ed. Oxon: Routledge.

Hi! Thanks for reading my rather sporadic and rushed essay on the nature of context in photography — I hope it was at least somewhat interesting! 😅

This essay was part of work set as part of my photography and was something I greatly enjoyed researching, reading and writing, even when I was doing the usual student thing and putting it off to the last minute! Whilst I’m pleased with it, I definitely see the potential to expand this into a greater body of work — so, for the sake of posterity, I wanted to upload this as both a motivator and a foundation to work from.

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, you should also check out this fantastic video essay from Jamie Windsor which covers a very similar topic as mine; this video served as great inspiration for this essay in particular, and helped as a great starting point to develop off of, and reflect upon my own creative process in photography.

Alongside that, I’d also recommend watching this video by James Redd, which also details how context, particularly the technical aspects of taking a photo, can greatly affect how a photograph is received, specifically within the genre of street photography.

Thanks for reading!

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