I’ve set up a new blog for my Level 3 Body of Work and Contextual Studies courses.
Join me over there?
I’ve set up a new blog for my Level 3 Body of Work and Contextual Studies courses.
Join me over there?
I’ve completed all the assignment rework, had my final tutorial, and all that remains is printing and posting the submission. I’ve signed up to Level 3 and started reading the Body of Work and Contextual Studies course handbooks, but before really getting my teeth into those I want to close off Level 2 with some final reflections on the overall Documentary course.
I completed Documentary some months after Gesture & Meaning, and I generally found this to be the more focused of the two, with G&M being rather fragmented (I can see why that has subsequently been replaced if I’m honest; that’s not to say I didn’t enjoy it or get something out of it, rather it’s simply a comparison of their respective structures and contents).
Documentary seems more designed to build up your understanding gradually, adding layers of insight and deepening your appreciation of the genre by accretion.
I came into Level 2 thinking that documentary photography was something that I was quite interested in, but the irony is that the more I learned about documentary photography, the more I felt like I was moving away from it – BUT! this is not a criticism of the course by any means. In fact, it opened my eyes to a new way of looking at the world. Let me explain…
The mind-expanding learning on this course was the notion of authorship. I’d always thought of documentary photography as truthful, accurate, objective – until I did this course. It opened my eyes to the realisation that everyone has an angle, all ‘truth’ is partial, nothing is truly objective and the documentary photographer is as much an author as any kind of artist, albeit working with actuality as raw material. This lightbulb moment changed my outlook and had me wrestling with my own strengths, weaknesses and intentions.
Once the realisation had sunk in that as a documentary photographer I am – intentionally or not – an author (a narrator, a spokesperson, a manipulator), I began to feel uneasy about telling stories on behalf of others – which is pretty much the definition of a documentary photographer! I realised that I had started intentionally leaving people out of my projects for fear of misrepresenting them.
This came to a head on my Assignment 5 (the personal project), where intentional, overt stereotyping was a significant part of the concept – and I just couldn’t ethically defend making people stand in for extreme stereotypes to help me make a point. This is perhaps a negative/defensive way of looking at things, so I will now talk about the more positive aspect of this…
Closely related to the last point: after my Assignment 5 I made a survey of my OCA work for the last four years – which assignments I was proud of, which I still felt a connection with, which I was unmoved by, which I was ill-at-ease with. Generally speaking I feel better about the ones where I was investigating an idea. On this course in particular, I distinguish between the assignments where I was telling stories about the activities of others (1 and 3) and those where I was presenting an idea for the viewer to think about (2 and 5).
Even on Assignment 5, which originally was planned as a straight social documentary project on Brexit, I moved towards a position where I was examining a specific aspect of the situation that I felt wasn’t being discussed. I started to consider the overused phrase ‘thought-provoking‘ in a literal sense – I want my images to make people think, not to tell them about something. It seems more difficult but also more rewarding.
My own taste in photographic art is definitely moving towards more distinctive, visually interesting work. I think I’ve started to find most ‘straight’ documentary photography a little repetitive. This may be a product of my 21st century attention span! Things need to look new and different to catch my eye. Now, I’m still very sure that good – really, really good – documentary photographers can produce work that grabs the attention, I’m just no longer sure that I want to be (or am good enough to be) one of them.
My interest in more visually unusual work was definitely piqued by my Assignment 5, where I felt that deciding on the particular presentation format (pie charts) was the real lightbulb moment. I am increasingly drawn to more conceptual (often abstract) photographic projects, and want to see if this is an area in which I can work.
Specifically, I became fascinated in the opportunities to use photography as a visual language to get messages across – by way of tools of rhetoric such as metaphor and metonymy. I find an almost puzzle-solving-like satisfaction in determining the best way to get a particular message across. It does sometimes feel like an act of translation more than creation.
So – the irony is that studying documentary photography for 18 months gave me a taste for a kind of photography that is quite far removed from traditional documentary ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Onwards to Level 3!
I had one last video tutorial with my tutor Derek and we collaborated on the notes to produce the final feedback report.
The first half of the report discusses my rework on each individual assignment and is covered in more detail in the main Assignment 6 post.
The additional tutor comments were pretty positive, thankfully. A couple of extracts:
“The coursework has been consistently well thought out throughout the module. There have been many exercises in which you’ve tried something new and learnt from it, which in turn has developed your own voice. It is good to see clear causal links between exercises and the ideas developed for assignments.”
“Research has been a real strength of this module: there has been a clear correlation shown between your research, the direction chosen for assignments and the development of new understandings. This in turn has shown step changes in the assignments, where each one builds on the last, but also progresses your personal practice. The practice has become more personal, and all the stronger for it.”
There is of course always room for improvement as I head towards Level 3:
“We’ve discussed making your reflections – looking back at modules from the position you’re in now – a clearer part of your texts, i.e. in the log, and at the start of assignment commentaries (as well as in the reflective notes later on). If the significant part of the assignment is a real shift in your understanding, then that should be front and centre, as it’s the most important point to make.”
In all, I’m very happy with both my rework and Derek’s feedback on it.
It’s interesting how quickly things move these days; the 2011 BJP link in the course notes doesn’t connect to a live web page, and a search of the site for ‘crowdfunding’ brings up as the first result the news that Emphas.is, the specialist photojournalism crowd-funding platform covered in the OCA article, went into liquidation in 2013 (and WeFund seems to have similarly disappeared).
However, that seems to me to say more about how specific platforms were operated than anything about crowdfunding as a general phenomenon, which appears to be gaining ground.
I’ve personally had experience as a sponsor of a crowdfunded project, Les Monaghan’s Relative Poverty, and it made me think about the benefits from an contributor point of view. In some cases I presume the expected audience is the contributor – “I’d like to see that”.
For me it was more about wanting the project to go ahead because I felt its messages needed to be heard than it was about wanting to see the results myself; I acted as more of a (small percentage!) patron than as a potential viewer.
Most photography crowdfunding involves some kind of contributor ‘reward’, such as a book, an exhibition invitation, a print etc. Particularly for projects with a social documentary photography focus, the notion of getting ‘rewards’ for contribution struck me as potentially problematic – for the Relative Poverty project I contributed at a level that got me a couple of key rewards: a portfolio review (extremely helpful, and the main reason I contributed at the level that I did), and a copy of my choice of image from the exhibition – this latter reward sat oddly with me: much as I want to support the project, I can’t see myself wanting to display an image of abject poverty in my home (sorry, Les!).
The benefits of crowdfunding from the photographer point of view are self-evident: one can confirm a level of interest and – more practically – money before committing to a project.
More specifically, spreading the funding across multiple small patrons could potentially alleviate the risk (or perception) that there has been some invisible editorial or curatorial hand influencing the message. Crowdfunding actually strengthens the photographer’s authorial hand.
The flipside is this though: what happens to the potentially fascinating, imaginative and enlightening projects that don’t get made because a crowdfunding target isn’t met? The success of a crowdfunding campaign relies not only on the strength of the idea but also the marketing skills of the creator – the Prison Photography case study reaffirms this, with its focus on the sophisticated promotional skills of its founder Pete Brook.
The fact that crowdfunding platforms exist and have produced success stories is clearly a good thing, and as per the OCA article it does help to ‘democratise’ documentary photography. I’m not averse to the idea of using such a method in future.
Crowdfunding http://www.weareoca.com/photography/crowd-funding/ (accessed 26/06/2017)
Relative Poverty http://www.relativepoverty.org (accessed 26/06/2017)
Prison Photography https://prisonphotography.org (accessed 26/06/2017)
Emphas.is story http://www.bjp-online.com/2013/10/crowdfunding-platform-emphas-is-goes-insolvent-amid-internal-conflicts/ (accessed 26/06/2017)
My last post on Assignment 5 from a few weeks ago was optimistically titled ‘The clouds part‘, but I’ve spent most of the time since being dissatisfied with my work to date and struggling to ‘find a way back in’ to this assignment… so the clouds hadn’t so much parted as shifted around slightly. However, I am finally starting to see real chinks of daylight.
There have been two related obstacles:
My basic problem over the last few weeks has been dissatisfaction with my photos taken so far. I’ve taken over 500 photos in four locations over five shooting days since November last year. Very few of them are standing out as good photos individually, and almost no pairs of images to juxtapose are making themselves apparent to me. I have a strong sense of how I want these images to end up looking like, but am not yet being successful in finding subjects that match my visualisations.
Part of it is down to an ongoing debate I’m having with myself on whether to include people in the project or not (I will do a separate blog post on this particular point). Part of this is related to the conceptual communication point I come onto next.
As mentioned in several recent posts (a fact in itself that reveals how unsure I am about its clarity) my overarching communication intent is about the perils of oversimplification, and the conceptual approach I am taking is to juxtapose binary stereotypes (which happen to be based around the EU Referendum vote).
My fear is that using stereotypes to draw attention to stereotyping as a phenomenon is inherently risky, as there is a danger that the viewer simply sees the stereotyping… :-/
I needed to find a way of making the use of stereotypes more self-evidently deliberate and therefore significant.
I have been wrapping my head around these two interrelated dilemmas and am gradually evolving my approach in a way that I think might – might – resolve both concerns.
First, I came to the conclusion that to improve the success rate of the photos themselves I needed some kind of framework to the images I want to capture – a shooting list. I’ve been shooting with two sets of keywords in my mind but it’s still been a little too vague to be useful. I need to really hone my visualisations down to a subject matter level.
In order to do this I also started thinking of ways of making the underpinning ‘stereotypes’ concept more obviously deliberate. I started thinking of how supporting text can be extremely useful, and so how to work stereotypes into the captions. To this end I enlisted some OCA Facebook buddies to brainstorm Remain and Leave stereotypes with me, and between us we came up with the following list:
A subset of these, or something similar, could become briefs for specific image pairings, and in turn appear as captions of some kind.
I’ve been trying to think creatively about how to visually communicate the message about binary oversimplification by using the exact Leave/Remain vote percentages from the specific towns and cities as the ratio of the two parts of the composite image.
My initial approach to this was quite straightforward, juxtaposing the pairs of images as two appropriately scaled rectangles:
However, I wasn’t sure whether this really drove home the binary categorisation that I was looking to project. I started thinking about infographics and data visualisation, and hit upon the idea of using a pie chart (it was National Pie Week…) with the segments labeled to form the captions:
Please note that I am not sure about these specific images – these are just mockups to test the concept.
My current feeling is that the visual concept does broadly work in terms of data visualisation, but it’s not necessarily easy (depending on the specific images) to visually decipher the two component parts due to the irregular frame shapes.
As mentioned on here recently, I took a three month break from Documentary, including work on the final assignment, that ended last week. Yesterday I went out for my first shooting trip since that break, and think it’s time to collect my thoughts on the assignment and where I go from here.
After such a break, it’s tempting to think that one of two things can happen to a project:
In reality however, it’s ended up being somewhere in between.
This in itself is a good example of what is increasingly the underlying message of the assignment – that we humans are drawn to over-simplifying complex situations!
What the assignment is ‘about’ has evolved, even though the subject matter and visual approach are unchanged:
Whilst I am excited about the new depths I am finding in the assignment, I remain concerned about my ability to successfully articulate the message. The work still needs to be rooted in the same subject matter – the images still need to be of socially unequal northern English towns that voted to Leave the EU, yet still communicate my over-arching message of the dangers of over-simplification.
At the risk of name-dropping, whilst in Arles last summer I had an opportunity to speak to OCA principal Gareth Dent about my intended assignment subject. He asked an excellent question that I presume is one often used to challenge students: he asked, what’s the ‘I hadn’t thought of that before’ aspect of the project? Familiar subject matter needs to have some angle that makes the viewer think of it in a new and different way, some way into opening a new line of thought. Good documentary work needs to be – to employ an overused phrase that resonates here – thought-provoking.
What thoughts did I want to provoke? At the time my answer was more shallow and less satisfactory than it is now: I said that I wanted to highlight the co-existence of the haves and the have-nots in the same places, that these towns are overlapping parallel worlds with different populations. But this didn’t feel like all there was to it.
I’m a firm believer in the importance of titles to projects, and the working title for this project, for as long as it’s had one, has been ‘I Woke Up and Everything Was Fine‘. As time’s gone on I’ve realised that coming up with this title was the beginnings of me refining this idea down to the ‘simplification’ message.
All politics, and very specifically a referendum, is predicated on simplifying impossibly complicated situations to a point of almost meaningless bluntness. It forces a diverse population to sort into binary tribes. All nuance is lost. From 24th June 2016 the UK population was, if you believe the media, sorted into the Metropolitan Liberal Elite and the Disenfranchised Left-Behinds.
The simple act of placing an X in one of two boxes on a form carried with it an implicit expectation:
Yes, I’m over-simplifying. Deliberately.
The main epiphany of the last three months thinking about, but not working on, the assignment has been the solidification of this fundamental point:
Photography itself is simplification
The documentary photographer is a professional over-simplifier. A subject is chosen, an authorial stance is adopted (knowingly or otherwise), decisions are made at the shooting, editing and presentation stages that boil down the complex world in front of the camera into a series of two-dimensional rectangles of time and light.
I’m not saying this shouldn’t happen – it would be impossible for any medium to adequately record a 360º, 100% view of any reality… even rolling 24-hour video surveillance has to choose a location and a viewing angle. There’s always something not shown that may or may not be pertinent to the ‘truth’ being captured.
What I want to do with this work is get viewers to acknowledge and think about this inherent simplification. Maybe also to consider the risks it brings, and what we as humans can do to mitigate these risks.
I’m hoping that the parallels between photography and politics will become apparent through the imagery; I will however weave this into the Statement of Intent as well to reinforce the message.
This navel-gazing has to lead me somewhere practical :-)
Since restarting my studies I’ve been revisiting some of the images taken so far with this ‘lens’ of over-simplification, and determining which images still make the cut (spoiler: not many).
To get the over-simplification message across I feel like I might need to be more deliberately stereotypical in my subject matter – to make the juxtapositions overtly more jarring. I want to present the message that says something like: “Town X is 33% like THIS and 67% like THAT” with the intended reaction that I have gone too far, that my characterisation has tipped over into caricature.
I want people’s reaction to be to disagree with me! Or at least what they think I am saying.
This feels like quite a tricky endeavour. Quite a fine line to walk.
But I think I can pull it off.
Read the article ‘The Judgment Seat of Photography’ (Christopher Phillips 1982)
Add to your learning log the key research materials referenced in the text.
This is an enlightening essay on photography as art, built around the historical work of the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in New York. It is not, however, specifically about documentary photography as art. Certain aspects of the essay did strike me as relevant and thought-provoking and I will extract these below.
The instruction in the exercise brief to add the referenced research materials to my learning log is somewhat odd: the text has no less than 81 footnotes and only a handful of these came across as being strongly relevant to my current studies.
My preference for how to respond to this essay is to:
Without crediting MoMA with single-handedly elevating photography to the status of art in the 20th century, it is difficult to imagine exactly how the history of photography as an art form would have unfolded had the museum never existed.
MoMA’s first Director of Photography was Beaumont Newhall (1908–93) and my simple take on his tenure (1940–47) is that he was, in a sense, ahead of his time. He saw the potential of photography as art but struggled to articulate this to both the museum’s management and its visitors.
Phillips’ argument is that Newall deferred to the ‘cult value’ of photography over its ‘exhibition value’ (the two kinds of value described by Walter Benjamin in The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, 1969). He treated photographs as pieces of art and emulated painting’s modes of presentation; he emphasised the ‘art credentials’ of the photograph by bringing attention to the unique qualities of the materials used and the variability of the printing process. His first MoMA exhibition with Ansel Adams was accompanied by text that introduce “notions of rarity, authenticity and personal expression – already the vocabulary of print connoisseurship is being brought into play” (Phillips 1982: 36).
Newhall’s prolific curatorial output (almost 30 exhibitions in seven years) seems with hindsight to have been a breakneck attempt to educate the US public on the artistic potential of the photograph as quickly as possible. He curated shows covering the history of the medium, the “canonisation of masters” (ibid: 38) and emerging talents such as Levitt and Cartier-Bresson. But it was possibly all a little too much too soon, and he tried too hard to borrow characteristics from other art forms.
Edward Steichen (1897–1973) was already a renowned photographer when he took over the MoMA role (1947–62), with a very different approach. He had a highly democratic, populist vision for photography and did not care for the notion of photography as an autonomous fine art.
His tenure was marked with an emphasis on Benjamin’s derided ‘exhibition value’ of photography; Steichen cared little for uniqueness and ‘aura’ and instead positively embraced the reproducibility of the photograph as a means of illustration – the photograph as mass media object.
Steichen’s exhibitions (including, most famously, Family of Man in 1955) were thematic collections that elevated the role of the curator above that of the photographer (a move that triggers interesting discussions on the notion of authorship and context – of which more below). He held no reverence for the sanctity of the original print or the personal expression that this had implied: “The photographers complied, for the most part, signing over to the museum the right to crop, print, and edit their images.” (Phillips 1982: 48). His installations drew comparisons with magazine layouts more than art galleries, and were considered more accessible to the general public as a result.
Although hired directly by Steichen, MoMA’s third Director of Photography (1962–91), John Szarkowski (1925–2007), again took a different approach to his predecessor. He returned, to an extent, to the ‘cult value’ of photography – white walls, uniform print sizes and wooden frames made a comeback. He built on Steichen’s intervening populism to reintroduce some of Newall’s underlying principles of photography as art, but with an increasingly contemporary twist.
Where Newall had emphasised the uniqueness of individual prints as art objects by comparing them to other art forms, Szarkowski was more interested in the uniqueness of the medium itself. His seminal work The Photographer’s Eye (1964) deconstructed the photograph into five formal elements intrinsic to photography (the detail, the thing itself, time, the frame and the vantage point). His work with photographers was more respectful of individual practitioners with their own ‘voices’ than Steichen’s subjugating curatorial approach.
The photographers championed by Szarkowski, such as Arbus, Winogrand, Friedlander and Eggleston, all worked in what one might term self-expressive documentary rather than traditional social documentary photography. They were all investigating the real world but from a viewpoint inside their own heads.
For me, Szarkowski stood on the shoulders of Newall and Steichen to complete the circuitous journey to accepting photography as a branch of fine art; maybe we had to go through the earlier two phases first and Szarkowski was the right person to bring it to fruition at that point in time.
Stepping back from the detail of these three phases, there is a connecting thread here of recontextualisation: in all three tenures MoMA was at the forefront of attempts not necessarily to promote photography as art but certainly to take photographs out of their original context and present them in a new way. Newall and Szarkowski favoured presentation akin to paintings while Steichen preferred more modern, magazine-like installations. In all cases, photographs were being recontextualised by a curator, and the key difference is the extent of curatorial involvement (interference?).
All photography is inherently taking things out of context. In the words of Garry Winogrand: “When you put four edges around some facts, you change those facts.” (date unknown). Szarkowski himself has this to say on the subject: “To quote out of context is the essence of the photographer’s craft.” (1964: 70).
The interesting and potentially problematic aspect of this context question is the additional layer of a curator – if the original photographer is already making authorial decisions on inclusion/exclusion at the level of the individual frame and the project body of work, these are potentially subsequently diluted by the selection decisions of the curator, working to their own authorial intentions. Or maybe the original authorial decisions are amplified rather than diluted – who knows?
There is a kind of parallel with the role of the picture editor in journalism – the editorial selection decision ultimately trumps the picture-taking one, in terms of what is presented to the audience. One key difference between a picture editor and a curator is the objective of the curation exercise: the former is trying to best illustrate a news story, the latter is trying to articulate some coherent larger communication message through ‘art’. But in both cases, the press picture editor and museum curator become what Phillips calls an “orchestrator of meaning” (Phillips 1982: 38).
At MoMA Steichen was the most extreme example of this, collating photographs as illustrations of predefined messages:
“To prise photographs from their original contexts, to discard or alter their captions, to recrop their borders in the enforcement of a unitary meaning, to reprint them for dramatic impact, to redistribute them in new narrative chains consistent with a predetermined thesis – thus one might roughly summarize Steichen’s operating procedure.” (ibid: 46)
Szarkowski may have paid more attention to the self-expression of the original photographer but ultimately is still sculpting his own ‘version’ (of Arbus, of Friedlander, etc) from the available work.
The essay doesn’t cover this subject specifically or thoroughly but the preceding course notes do raise some points that I’d like to address.
The art curation process described above can, and often is, applied to documentary photographs. This brings ethical questions into play: is it acceptable that images of death, destruction, squalor, sickness and depravity are converted into art objects?
It’s possible and hopefully useful here to make a distinction between the objectives of the museum and the gallery:
My personal view is that documentary photography in the informative environment of a museum is a valid and ethical communication form (whether it is ‘art’ is another question). Documentary photography in a gallery, with a price tag attached and wealthy art enthusiasts sipping champagne before it, pondering an investment – that is unethical.
To an extent I believe that some photographers allow or even encourage their documentary photography work to become treated as fine art. If the intent of the image is to communicate a ‘truth’ then why not produce limitless low-cost reproductions? By restricting the reproduction and display of their own work, photographers are effectively participating in the art market with their documentary images.
Luc Delahaye, for example, is one photographer who straddles the worlds of documentary and fine art – he shoots on a large format camera and exhibits wall-sized prints that sell for thousands of dollars, yet the subject matter is the kind of thing seen daily in newspapers, magazines and on news TV – bomb sites, angry mobs, bodies. I find this somewhat distasteful, I must admit.
To close with my take on Benjamin’s theory of two types of art value:
Phillips, C. (1982) ‘The Judgement Seat of Photography’ in October, Vol 22 (Autumn 1982) pp 27–63
Benjamin, W. (1969) ‘The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction,’ trans. Harry Zohn,in Illuminations, New York: Schocken Books.
Szarkowski, J. (2007) The Photographer’s Eye. 2nd edn. New York: Museum of Modern Art.
I took a three-month break from Documentary which ended yesterday.
As per my last post, I realised towards the end of 2016 that I could only really complete one of my Level 2 courses in time for January submission, so I prioritised Gesture & Meaning. December was taken up with completing G&M Assignment 6, January with reworking and preparing the whole set of G&M assignments for assessment and February I took off studying completely, my first study break since starting the degree just under four years ago.
[ I took the month off to set myself up as a commercial photographer for hire and so will be combining study and work (hopefully on a roughly 50:50 basis) until I complete the degree. Taking 2016 to study full-time was an excellent decision and I’m very glad I did it, but going forward I want to blend studying with re-engaging with the world at large and earning a few pennies… ]
Taking a few months off this course has given me time to reflect on my Level 2 experience so far – what I’ve learned, how doing G&M in parallel has helped, what I might do differently on this last stretch. I’ll summarise the general points here and will also go into a little detail on my current thinking on Assignment 5.
In terms of total study time, a calendar year should really give enough time to complete both courses at the estimated number of hours per unit – I was averaging something like 25 hours of study per week, which isn’t quite full-time but still pretty solid. But it’s not so much the total time as the elapsed time – including the thinking time in between sections, the space to reflect, to apply what one is learning going along and stretch one’s academic and creative muscles. It feels now like sticking to my original plan of submitting both L2 courses by this January would have been to the detriment of both.
The amount of rework I decided to do for G&M was an eye-opener. It made me realise how much both my abilities and my standards have increased over Level 2. I came to realise that I’ll almost certainly want to put a similar amount of diligence and pride into reworking the Documentary assignments. For this reason I stand by my decision to delay completing Documentary to give my attention to G&M for assessment.
I’m glad I had the chance to pull together the assessment pack for one L2 course before the other, as I learned a lot through trial and error about the many different ways in which one can present the material for assessment. I feel better prepared to do it a second time having been through it once.
Gesture & Meaning is a very eclectic course, with a section each on four genres: documentary, fine art, portraiture and advertising. Whilst the first section inevitably covered some of the same ground as this course, the other three really broadened my horizons in a lasting way. I realised by the time I’d done four G&M assignments that I had found a way to bend all of the briefs towards some form of documentary subject matter, even if a genre-led visual or conceptual approach was taken.
For example, my ‘fine art’ assignment for G&M tackled food poverty using a surrealist approach, while my ‘advertising’ assignment employed a similar kind of photographic ‘magic realism’ as a response to the terror attack in Nice.
Realising how I’d steered the G&M assignments in this way made me think that I’m possibly beginning to find that elusive Personal Voice…
In addition, the two academic assignments on G&M allowed me to choose my own subjects, so I steered them towards my interest in documentary photography and more specifically how it interacts into other genres – my oral presentation was on the subject of portraiture as a device in documentary photography and my critical review was on overcoming the limitations of the still image for depicting a narrative, mainly using documentary photographs as examples.
This cross-genre research led me to the realisation that…
Yes, the course itself is at pains to point this out, but it’s taken a while for the significance of this to really sink in. I confess that earlier in this course I was somewhat dismissive of the notion of ‘constructed documentary’ as lacking a sufficiently strong core of actuality. After a few months of not working on – but continuing to think about – documentary photography, I am becoming more comfortable with an expanded definition of documentary and less hung up on established genre parameters.
This has, in turn, deepened my interest in…
I’m increasingly interested in the form as well as the content – the nature and character of documentary photography, if you will. How it ‘works’, what it’s good at, what is potentially problematic about it, etc. I’m particularly interested in the theory and practice of authorship in documentary work. This is something I would like to look at more deeply at Level 3.
I’ve touched on this already, in one of my last posts before my recent break, but in my head I’m increasingly separating the subject matter from my underlying message intent:
I’ll pick up on this last point in my next Assignment 5 specific post.
That’s it for now!
I’m slowing down a bit on this assignment for various reasons. I’ll pick it up again properly in the new year and will focus on the section five coursework until then…
At the start of 2016 I set myself the target of completing both my Level 2 courses (Documentary and Gesture & Meaning) in time for the January 2017 submission deadline, which realistically meant finishing up before Christmas and spending January doing a little rework (not too much) and mainly pulling together the submission packs.
This has proved to be optimistic…
I’m almost finished on Gesture & Meaning: all coursework is done and five out of six assignments are done, with just an essay left to write. I will submit this in January.
Documentary looked on the face of it to be slightly less work overall: only five assignments compared to G&M‘s six. However, whereas G&M finishes coursework at the end of section four, leaving only two (non-photographic) assignments for the last third of the course, Documentary continues with coursework through section five. Add to this the brief that the final assignment is the ‘personal project’ and is intended to be bigger in terms of both scope and final deliverables than all the other assignment, it’s become apparent recently that I’m not going to finish Documentary before Christmas! So I’ve told my tutor to expect the assignment sometime around the end of February / beginning of March.
This realisation sunk in after a few photoshoots for Assignment 5 over the last week and a half…
My assignment is based on producing 10-15 pairs of images (‘positive’ and ‘negative’) from shoots in the following six northern English towns and cities that voted heavily to leave the EU:
So far I have shot in three locations, with the following experiences:
Add to these specific problems a few general learnings:
The result of all of these points is that from three days of shooting over two weeks, I only have a handful of images that I am happy with.
So with all of this in mind, I think I’m postponing further shoots until the new year. I’ll no doubt go back to the three locations already used, but hopefully come back with better results.
I’ve been posting work-in-progress for this assignment, even though I’m not happy with the images, as I’m experimenting with the layout – this is an important aspect of the presentation on this assignment.
The thing I’m playing with at the minute is how to depict the % split between the two parts of the composite image.
I’ve been playing around with the format of joining the pairs of pictures together, as I decided that as well as not liking many of the pictures I’ve taken so far, I’m unconvinced by the format I’d started with.
To recap: I’m joining pairs of images to show two sides of a particular town or city.
I’m looking to present the images in a comparative horizontal ratio of approximately 1/3 to 2/3. My original intention was to keep the resultant overall rectangle to be a ‘normal’ photographic ratio, and the widest such ratio is 3:2. When this is divided into 1/3 and 2/3 horizontal splits, the resultant images are a tall and thin left hand portion (2×1) and a square right hand portion.
Both these ratios look distractingly odd and cramped, and for me this visually overrides the 3:2 ratio of the complete image.
I decided to set aside the intention for the overall image to be in a recognised photographic ratio and looked instead at the component parts being in standard ratios and working together to produce an overall image that would be more panoramic.
I concluded that a 2×3 left hand side and a 4×3 right hand side to produce an overall image that’s twice as wide as tall, and would visually work better than my original layout.
In the mockups above the split between the left and right hand positions is signalled both in the actual visual balance between the two sides and by the numbers in the caption.
However, I felt that this doesn’t strongly enough steer the viewer to the underlying meaning of the split, namely that it represents the two responses to the EU Referendum (and in my deliberately over-simplified take on the situation, the ‘haves’ vs the ‘have nots’).
The panoramic ratio of the revised format seemed to better lend itself to showing that this is a kind of ‘chart’ with each portion representing something. I experimented with including a partial scale along the bottom of each image. Once I’d done this, it also felt right to include the town name as a photographic caption rather than a text addition separately.
With this new panoramic ratio, the effect of seeing the image as a whole is diminished somewhat, and it’s more evident that this is a juxtaposed pair. This should make matching pairs together a little easier, I think. As it is now more clearly a juxtaposed pair, I started wondering whether it might benefit from a tiny bit of delineation between the two parts, so I introduced a 1-pixel keyline between them.
Finally I looked at further visual separation, now that the key line acts as a kind of visual break, to emphasise the disparity between the two parts of the image. I converted the right hand side to black and white.
This wouldn’t have worked as well prior to the key line separation but seems to be effective now. Whether making the right hand side black and white is a little too heavy-handed, I’m not sure. It might be, and I might be OK with heavy-handed!
That’ll do for now. I did another shoot on Friday and am sorting images from that at the moment. Then 2-3 more trips out in the coming week, with selection and editing as I go along. I’m getting there, bit by bit.