Do some research into historic photographic portraiture.
Select one portrait to really study in depth. Write a maximum of 500 words about this portrait, but don’t merely ‘describe’ what you see. The idea behind this exercise is to encourage you to be more reflective in your written work (see Introduction), which means trying to elaborate upon the feelings and emotions evoked whilst viewing an image, perhaps developing a more imaginative investment for the image.
The portrait can be any of your choice, but try to choose a historic practitioner of note. This will make your research much easier, as the practitioner’s works will have been collected internationally by galleries and museums and written about extensively. Read what has already been written about your chosen practitioner’s archive, paying particular attention to what historians and other academics have highlighted in their texts.
To help with the writing, you might also want to use a model developed by Jo Spence and Rosy Martin in relation to helping dissect the image at a more forensic level, this includes:
The Physical Description: Consider the human subject within the photograph, then start with a forensic description, moving towards taking up the position of the sitter. Visualise yourself as the sitter in order to bring out the feelings associated with the photograph.
The Context of Production: C onsider the photographs context in terms of when, where, how, by whom and why the photograph was taken.
The Context of Convention: Place the photograph into context in terms of the technologies used, aesthetics employed, photographic conventions used.
The Currency: Consider the photographs currency within its context of reception, who or what was the photograph made for? Who owns it now and where is it kept? Who saw it then and who sees it now?
Post your thoughts in your learning log or blog.
Introduction
For this exercise, I chose the portrait ‘The Roaring Lion’, by Yousef Karsh in 1941:
The Roaring Lion, by Yousef Karsh (1941)[1]
The portrait is Karsh’s most famous, that of Prime Minister Sir Winston Churchill. He is dressed in a three-pieced suit with his trademark bow-tie and is seated in what appears a formal office setting, with wood panelling in the background. He is lit by a single light that emphasises his face and although some spills onto his hands and the background, there is little definition of the rest of his figure placed in dark shadow. Churchill’s expression is a direct gaze into the camera with a gruff, grumpy appearance.
At the time Churchill was visiting the cabinet chambers of the parliament of Ottawa, as a guest of the Prime Minister [2]. Karsh had been invited to listen to Churchill speaking but in a opportunistic way, set up his camera and lighting in speaker’s chambers the night before he was introduced to him. When Karsh switched on his continuous studio light it took Churchill by surprise as he hadn’t been told about the portrait. However, he duly sat for it. Karsh asked politely that he remove his trademark cigar, which was refused. Karsh then decided to grab the cigar from him.
“By the time I got back the four feet to my camera, he looked at me so beligerently that he could have devoured me. I clicked and this is the picture”
Yousef Karsh, recreating his most famous picture on 60 Minutes with Morley Safer, c1977 [2]
“You can even make a roaring lion stand still for a photograph”
Sir Winston Churchill to Yousef Karsh after the shoot was finished [2].
This image of Churchill is instantly recognisable, most likely because of the many years of documentary about him that has followed. When it was shot, the war was in its relative infancy, which is almost confirmed by the fact that he was across the Atlantic in Canada to begin with. Karsh’s formal setting provides Churchill with the statesman-like presence, but the use of a large format camera, with its higher degree of separation between in and out of focus areas, means that the background is a texture but not a distraction from the subject. The shallow depth of field also means that his hands are also not the first thing we look at as they too are soft. The single key light used on Churchill’s face draw us into his expression which is one that we now associate with his personalty. Karsh admitted that once this shot was done, Churchill invited him to take another portrait. In that one, we see a more relaxed man whose demeanour is staged for the photographer. The first image is the most famous and now hangs in the same speaker’s chambers. In 2017, Karsh’s portrait was immortalised in the public conscience when it was selected for the new polymer 5 pound note [3]. I believe this to be because of the way that Karsh managed to capture the entire essence of Churchill through one provocative act and the subsequent opening of the shutter.
“The portrait is a sign whose purpose is both the description of an individual and an inscription of social identity”
Tagg, J, The Burden of Representation: Essays on Photographies and Histories (1988), Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press P37.
We are presented with this quotation by John Tagg at the start of this project with the question of the difference between ‘description of an individual’ and ‘inscription of social identity’. On the face of it, the difference appears simple enough; a description being a representation of the subject and an inscription being more of a narrative of the age, culture etc. Representation though has been a fluid concept throughout Level 1 of this course. We already know that the artist and the sitter influence what is ‘represented’ in a portrait, which has been true for centuries. Take the example of the famous portrait painter Hans Holbein, who painted English monarchy during the Tudor era. Holbein’s representations of his subjects were often defined by the need for a narrative about the person’s status or social standing during a time where many people in England had never actually seen them. The portraits needed to convey a persona for the public. which was largely based on how they should be seen. His most controversial work was undoubtedly that of Anne of Cleves (below) which was commissioned by King Henry VIII’s minister Thomas Cromwell in 1539. Holbien was to capture Anne’s likeness as part of a petition by Cromwell for Henry to marry her. Holbein duly completed the painting which depicts a pretty young woman in a regal pose.
Holbein, Portrait of Anne of Cleves (c.1539) Parchment mounted on canvas. Louvre, Paris[1]
When Henry actually met Anne, he was said to be less than impressed with her in part because she did not resemble her likeness. The deception is widely believed to be what led to Cromwell falling out of favour with the King and ultimately his execution. Holbein is remembered in history for this glaring error of judgement, although it is unlikely that the painting alone was responsible for the problems with the Queen that followed him painting it. Holbein though is shown to be pushing the boundaries of ‘representation’ with this painting.
The same representation can be seen in the early photographic portraits, which is not really surprise owing to the staged nature of the medium in its early days [2]. As photography was less time consuming (and presumably less expensive) than painting, subjects could more readily appear in many portraits over a period of time. Take the following examples of early portraits of Ulysses S Grant, who became the 18th President of the United States after leading the Union army to victory in the American Civil War. Grant had portraits made both using traditional painting and with photography and it’s the latter that I found to be most interesting.
Gen. U.S. Grant at his Cold Harbor, Va., headquarters. United States, 1864 by E.G. Fowx
In this photograph, Gen. Grant is shown standing in what looks like a tent, leaning against a tree that forms part of the structure. He is shown in his military uniform, but he is represented as a soldier whose stance gives the impression of a man taking a moment from the battle. As the location for the photograph is Grant’s headquarters at the battle of Cold Harbor, VA, it’s reasonable to assume some accuracy to the way he is being depicted. However, we know the photograph would have required some time to set and shoot, so the scene is very deliberately staged. Grant’s expression and pose suggest a relaxed, confident and solitary commander, with the only other element that is present in the image being a chair presumed to belong to him. The intensity of this image is impressive for the time because of how long the pose would have needed to be held for, while it’s contextual simplicity represents what the American people would have associated with the leaders of the two armies (the opposing leader General Robert E Lee was pictured in similar photographs).
The second image (below) shows Grant as the 18th President, taken some time between 1870 and 1880.
President Grant (circa 1870 to 1880), by Matthew Brady [4]
Here we see a very different man from the previous image that was taken probably only a decade before. Grant is now pictured in a formal suit in a pose that represents him as the leader of the country. Grant’s expression still shows the confident leader as before, but the formality of the image and complete lack of any other context reminds me of the professional profile pictures that are commonplace in the current digital age.
What these two portraits show is the public image of one of the United States’ most celebrated military and political leaders. Although they show very different men despite the short period of time between the dates they were taken, neither picture describes what happened to Grant in that period. The point being made by Jenkins in Re-thinking History (1991) is reinforced by these two images:
“We should distinguish between the two by calling ‘the past’ everything that has happened before and calling ‘historiography’ everything that has been written about the past”
Jenkins K, Re-thinking History (1991) London: Routledge. Pg.7.
The first image was seen as ‘the past’ when the second was taken, but it says nothing about the war, the losses or strategic decisions that the great general made, merely that he was there. Historical texts and reflection by the American people, leading to his election as President, provide the historiography that Jenkins refers to. The photographs support the narratives rather than create them by themselves. With the advent of the automated portrait that was used for formal identification of an individual, portraiture itself took on a different meaning. The images made no reference to social identity, financial status or public persona. Arguably, the creation of formal portraits of a person could, if assembled together, tell the story of someone’s change in appearance throughout their life, but little else would be gained from them beyond that. However, the advent of the selfie in the 21st Century provides much more contextual information about a person than before. Modern portraiture is much more accessible by all parts of society, which for me helps create that sense of identity within and between social groups.
Julia Margaret Cameron (1815 to 79)
One of the most innovative portrait photographers of the 19th Century, Julia Margaret Cameron sought to move away from the formal, scientific approach to portraiture that had been the norm since the medium was invented. Where other photographers made their portraits full or half length pictures of their subjects, including contextual references to represent them in a particular way, Cameron took a different approach. Her portraits were much more close-up in composition and used high contrast between highlight and shadow to increase the drama of her subject’s appearance. She also challenged the convention of sharp focus and long depth of field which made her pictures ethereal in appearance. After receiving significant criticism from the her contemporaries for this, she asked her friend Sir John Herschal:
“What is focus and who has the right to say what focus is the legitimate focus?”
Julia Margaret Cameron
Herschal was a famous astronomer so one would have expected him to have taken a similar view to the photographers who had criticised her. However, Hershal like many of the famous friends that Cameron had photographed, was a fan of what she was trying to do. One of her portraits of him took his profession as an eminent astronomer and portrayed him as how she saw him; as ‘teacher and high priest'[5].
Sir John Herschal by Julia Margaret Cameron (1815 to 1879)[6]
The portrait shows Herschal in extreme close-up with his wild hair lit to create an ethereal corona around his face. His piercing gaze points to his inquisitiveness and intellect. Cameron was using photography, in particular portraiture, to create art rather than scientific record. In her tableaux creations, her female characters often took on the appearance of the angelic, with pale, flawless skin lit in a way to make them almost unreal. Her male characters by contrast were lit in a way that highlighted the lines of their faces, their frowns and expressions that alluded to the learned men, often influenced by priests or prophets.
Tracing Echoes – Nicky Bird (2001)
I first came across Nicky Bird’s work during Context and Narrative where the artist had curated a collection of unwanted photographs that she had purchased on eBay [7]. In that work, Bird was creating narratives with the available information from the seller that gave the collected photographs new purpose. The act of creating an archive and her subsequent sale of the photographs highlighted the transient nature of history with their new owners adding to the story by purchasing what was once unwanted. I found Bird’s connections between the past and present fascinating, so when I started looking at Tracing Echoes I could see a similar theme running through the work. Bird’s work in this project isn’t limited to historical portraiture as the basis for it came from Bird’s time as artist in residence at Cameron’s home, Dimbola Lodge. It’s her portraiture that relevant to this course though and in the case of Tracing Echoes, Bird connected the past and present by shooting similar photographs of the descendants of Cameron’s subjects. When I look at these images and the accompanying text, I can see the clear connections between past and present. However, I get more of a sense of mimicry than I was expecting. The photographs that are included in the notes, for example (below) show the the shots by both artists side-by-side.
Clip from the Identity and Place course notes. Nicky Bird’s Tracing Echoes (2001)
Bird has selected a similar ‘facing’ pose for her two women but hasn’t used the same technical approach to the shots (background composition and lighting) as Cameron. Instead, her portraits look more natural than Cameron’s and because of the clear differences in the photographic technology in the intervening 130 years set Bird’s portraits very much in the present. We are presented with two elderly women without any other real context beyond their relationship to Cameron’s original subjects. My issue with Bird’s photograph is that it the passive expressions of her subjects look forced to me. It’s as though in asking her subjects to pose in a similar fashion to Cameron’s photograph, the result is something that doesn’t appear genuine. I really admire Bird’s work in exploring history and as such, Tracing Echoes is an important natural extension to Cameron’s story, which was so tragically cut short after a career of just 11 years [8]. However, as a celebration of Cameron’s innovative style, I don’t think it works – perhaps that wasn’t really Bird’s objective but it’s less impactful as I would have hoped.
Emil Otto Hoppé (1878-1972)
I admit to having never heard of Hoppé’s work until reading about him for this project. The story of what happened to his work underlines the points made by Tagg and Jenkins earlier in the notes with regard to representation and historiography. Although Hoppé was well known during his lifetime, his portraiture was not because of the decision to sell his catalogue to the Mansell Collection, a commercial picture house in London. The Mansell Collection was an early version of what we know now as a commercial picture library such as Shutterstock or Getty Images. In collecting the works of well known photographers, the Mansell Collection ensured that there was a rich variety for potential commercial use, but this was counterproductive in terms of art. The images were archived by subject rather than artist, which had two effects. The first was that the identifying factor for an image was what the subject was. In the case of portraiture, the picture literally represented a specific subject, e.g woman or child etc. rather than any other context included by the artist. It’s possible that the collection applied other references in its archiving decisions, but the effect was that the pictures were pigeonholed into certain categories. The second effect was the more damaging in that by assembling the collection in this way, Hoppé’s work was not curated as a collection in its own right. Therefore, anyone reviewing the available portraits in the Mansell Collection would not know the extent of his work. What made the latter effect worse was that the collection was not available to the public or any critics or historians for many years. To Jenkins’ point, this prevented any historiographical narratives to be created from the work and as such Hoppe’s portraits did not stand as historical documents.
When his portraiture work was eventually discovered, it confirmed his reputation as a master photographer. An example can be seen below:
Tilly Losch by E.O. Hoppé, 1928 [9]
In this shot of Austrian dancer and actress Tilly Losch, we see some similarities with the style that Cameron pioneered many decades before. Losch is pictured in extreme closeup and in soft focus, which creates an almost supernatural feel to the picture. However Hoppé’s use of light and the model’s expression is what leaps out of this image. Strong catchlights in her eyes draw the viewer to look straight into them and because of the tightness to the composition, we cannot help but look from one eye to the other as if in direct contact with her personality. The light picks up her flawless skin and the angle draws attention to her striking features. Perhaps the most interesting aspect of this photograph is what it doesn’t show. While Losch was a dancer, she was famous for her intricate and intense The Hand Dance, created 1930-33. The Hand Dance was obviously performed with Losch’s hands and one surviving film of her performance by Norman Bel Geddes [10] shows how little attention was on Losch’s facial features. Nevertheless, Hoppé’s portrait reveals to us her intense personality without showing her hands at all. For me, Hoppé’s seemingly simple technique achieves a great deal in representing Losch without any obvious nods to her profession as an artist.
Conclusion
This project has introduced the concept of portraiture as representation but not historical documentary without historiography, that is the additional context that history provides. As photography evolved as a technical discipline, the prophecy by Delaroche did not come true as such. Instead photography became a complimentary technique for portraiture with the pioneering work of early artists such as Cameron. Her approach of using photography to create caricatures of her subjects was definitely disruptive, with the technical establishment dismissing her both as a woman in a man’s world and as a practitioner of what they saw as science rather than art. When we look at Cameron’s portraits of famous sitters, we can draw our own conclusions about the representation but we need to consider the historiography in order for the images to say anything about historical context. The way that representation changes can be seen in the work of Hoppé with he unfortunate way that it was kept from the public and academia as well as being fragmented by categorisation. Curating his work affected the way people saw his portraiture and provided the ability to create the all-important social narratives that accompany them.
[3] Fowx, E. G., photographer. (1864) Gen. U.S. Grant at his Cold Harbor, Va., headquarters. United States, 1864. [June] [Photograph] Retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/2018667429/.
[6] Daniel, Malcolm. “Julia Margaret Cameron (1815–1879).” In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/camr/hd_camr.htm (October 2004)
In the introduction to Part 1, we are introduced to the quote that is often attributed to French painter Paul Delaroche sometime in the early 1840s. He had apparently seen an early Daguerreotype image and declared that photography spelled the end for portrait painting from that day forward. Dageurre had invented and developed what is considered the first publicly available photographic process that would preserve the image observed by a camera. While it definitely turned the ancient phenomenon of the camera obscura, which had been around for centuries previously [1] into a practical application, it was certainly not the end of portrait painting as Delaroche predicted. Instead photography continued to evolve along a more scientific route than perhaps Delaroche was aware. The very first photograph was taken in 1826 by Joseph Nicéphore Niépce [2], an inventor whose fascination with the art of lithography led him to experiment with ways of improving his skills in creating these intricate artworks. Realising that he lacked the precision of technique to be any good, Niépce experimented with photosensitive materials and methods for fixing the image onto a pewter plate, some 14 years before Dageurre unveiled his process. Niépce started to work with Dageurre before his death in 1833, undoubtedly inspiring the latter’s eventual development of a stable process and ultimately himself being acknowledged as the inventor of photography. Deguerre himself wasn’t an artist either, but a chemist who like many, was interested in the science behind preserving an image as a recording. During this time, an English inventor called Henry Fox Talbot was also working on preserving the photographic image, but on paper instead of the polished metal used by Dageurre. Fox Talbot’s work was the basis for future evolution of photographic film and papers. In Fox Talbot’s case, he was interested in creating accurate pictures of flora and fauna, but lacked the skill to draw his subjects. He, like Niépce was trying to make up for the lack of artistic skill with the use of science to create faithful reproductions.
It stands to reason that when Delaroche first saw this new technology used for traditional portraiture, he would have thought it was going to make painting redundant. The early portraits by Dageurre although fairly primitive, must have looked like a more faithful representation than was possible by the portrait painters of the time. As the notes indicate, in actual fact the balance between traditional and new took a while to establish itself and painting as art remained popular way of representing a portraiture subject. When we look at the early portraits made using photography, we see the technique more the focus than the subject. Early photographs required long exposures for the process to work, so subjects needed to sit perfectly still for the picture to be sharp. Any real creativity was limited to the use of costume and background, which was often just whatever was contemporary. These photographs were highly constructed and any suggestion of personality came from the subject rather than the photographer. In Context and Narrative, I looked at the work of Wendy Red Star [3] who incorporated photographs of tribal elders of the indigenous Crow tribe (her ancestors) who were invited to Washington in a farcical summit which resulted in them having their lands taken by the modern American government. The photographs were staged by a famous photographer of the age who had a reputation for taking cold, distant portraits. It was believed that this way of representing the elders would show the people of Washington how alien they were to the emerging culture of the US. What resulted though was a series of images that achieved the opposite. Instead of distant and uninteresting, the elders appear proud, dignified and complex (owing in part to their full traditional dress).
Déaxitchish / Pretty Eagle from the series 1880 Crow Peace Delegation, 2014, by Wendy Red Star
Portraiture using photography differed from traditional painting in that the subject had more control over the finished piece. When we think about what Delaroche was famous for, we can see that painting still had its place in creating art that was flattering, or fantastical. Delaroche’s fascination with depicting the historical executions of key figures in history, his most famous being The Execution of Lady Jane Grey [4], is an example of the fantastical representations that were possible through the imagination and skill of a painter.
This particular tableau painting was derived from the many accounts of the execution but Delaroche placed the scene in an elaborate indoor setting that looks more like a church than a scaffold. In reality, Grey’s execution took place outside in the Tower of London grounds with a small crowd in attendance. With this artistic licence Delaroche is perhaps saying that the tragic killing of a teenage girl, who is now recognised as a manipulated innocent in the political instability of Tudor England, was akin to taking the life of an angel before the judgement of God. Whatever his motivation, Delaroche wasn’t present at the execution so could play with the aesthetics and details as much as he liked. The same couldn’t be said for photography until the subsequent development of the materials, equipments and techniques that allowed for the photographer to be more creative.
A modern equivalent of painting vs. photography can be seen in the advances of digital technology, which is present in every genre including portraiture. The notes refer to how photographers and the general public moved away from traditional film to digital imaging, which is a discussion that is often found in social media groups. As a film shooter, my view is that the advances in digital are not having the same impact as those that Delaroche was worried about. In his case, accurate reproductions created by the camera required a different set of skills that in some ways rivalled the painters of the age. Skills were still needed though, as photography was a complex technical process involving mechanical tools and chemistry. Painting still had the edge in terms of creativity and artistic licence, but developments in cameras, films, lighting and processing techniques addressed some of those shortfalls. With the latest advances, I would argue that the skill has almost been eliminated from portraiture with the rise of the selfie. People can now shoot portraits and rely on electronics and software to be creative to a point. No other photographic skills are required until the shooter wants to take more control. I was discussing this phenomenon with a fellow photographer and teacher who at one point decried the use of mobile phones with onboard processing and is now, because of demand, teaching mobile phone photography as part of his business. This also perhaps explains the resurgence in analogue film , where novel and expired film emulsions are making people who are new to photography want to experiment with different aesthetics. I recently met someone who has discovered film by buying point and shoot film cameras in junk shops and shooting expired film in them. His images take on a totally different meaning because of the way the film reacts to the light, even thought his candid portraits are similar to many other contemporaries.
Conclusion
I was interested in the introductory statement in the course notes so decided to dig a little deeper. I was glad to have done so as the evolution of photography, with all of its perceived truthfulness and accuracy, has not destroyed other art forms as feared by Delaroche, but instead been an enabler for them to be regarded for what they are. For example, the Royal Family still commissions painted portraits regularly as well as photographs. The former continues a traditional portrayal of them that complements historical representations while ‘telling a story’ to tie in with the contemporary view of them. The photographs create a different narrative; one of normality and relatability that also showcases the artist as much as the subject. People still enjoy both forms of portraiture in equal measure. As the talkshow and car enthusiast Jay Leno once said of the evolution of the automobile,
“Back then, horses were the primary means of motive power, pulling heavy carts and carrying people. Sadly, they would drop dead in the streets from sheer exhaustion or abuse. And mounds of manure befouled Chicago, New York and other big cities, spreading nasty diseases like dysentery. Suddenly, the automobile came along and people said, “Oh look, there’s just a little blue smoke! How nice.” Soon, horses were no longer misused as draft animals and the amount of droppings lying around was significantly reduced. Everyone was happy.”
Jay Leno, talking about the evolution of the car
People still enjoy cars and horses but for different reasons, the latter being recreational instead of industrial. My view of the evolution of portrait photography is that it serves a different purpose analogous to painting but it was never going to replace it.
[4] Delaroche P, 1833, “The Execution of Lady Jane Grey 1833 Oil on canvas, 246 × 297 cm Bequeathed by the Second Lord Cheylesmore, 1902 NG1909”, The National Gallery, https://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/paintings/NG1909
I’ve just had my first video meeting with my tutor for Identity and Place, during which we discussed the usual aspects of studying with OCA. As this was the third time I had discussed these, the focus of the conversation was more a get-to-know and to establish how we were going to engage throughout this unit. During the call I raised the fact that I had briefly read some of the course materials and in particular, was interested in the first assignment. I pointed out that the brief for Assignment 1 filled me with dread as it required shooting portraits of people that are strangers to me. I recalled being incredibly uncomfortable during Assignment 3 of EYV, for which my approach was to blend street photography with the humour found in Martin Parr’s work. During the shooting, I became overly sensitive to the idea of pointing my camera at people. It was made worse because my DSLR was so conspicuous – I likened it to having a Howitzer aimed at oneself. Eventually I took a break from trying to shoot the assignment and went for a relaxing walk around my town with my wife. When I stopped thinking about the anxiety, the photographs started to present themselves and I finished with a collection of images that I was really happy with.
Assignment 1 in this course is calling for us to take 5 portraits of complete strangers. Sounds simple enough, but the portraits need be insightful in some way, so the recommendation in the brief is to spend some time getting to know the subjects before trying to take their portrait. This immediately raised some questions that I wanted to attempt to answer before beginning the unit and re-visit once I’ve completed the assignment.
Questions raised about photographing strangers
What causes me to be anxious?
The anxiety of approaching someone to take their picture comes, I believe, from the fear of a negative reaction that could range from simple rudeness to aggression. The worst experience that I’ve had in this regard was while visiting Morocco a few years ago. I already knew that the people of Marrakesh were divided on the subject of photography and that as a mainly Muslim country, their issue with it was rooted in the belief that the act of capturing their likeness takes part of their soul. When I arrived in the city on a photography trip, I immediately started to get incredibly negative reactions to my camera even when I wasn’t taking pictures. The most memorable were an elderly gentleman who was sitting in the main square in the medina. I was looking around at the sights of the people packing up their market stalls at the end of the day and how beautiful these sights were as the sun started to set. At that point my camera was slung over my shoulder and clearly not about to be used, but this elderly gent made the effort to catch my eye so that he could utter one of the few insults that he knew the English words for. It would have appeared that his outrage was at what might happen rather than what was actually happening. My reaction was equally angry and my fellow photographers had to move us on before I said something potentially regretful to him. The second incident was in the seaside town of Essaouira and was similar in many ways to the previous. A line of women sat on the steps in the harbour and each of them flipped me the middle finger almost in unison. My initial thought was that this would make a great photograph, but the one at the back of the line had attracted the attention of one of the fishermen who was gutting fish on the dock with a very large knife. His subsequently threatening demeanour was enough to put me off my train of thought. I believe that these experiences alone would be enough to put me off, but thinking about it on both occasions I did not approach them for a photograph. Without the deliberate act of asking for the portrait, this does not explain my anxiety about taking pictures of strangers.
Does starting a conversation help?
I started to consider whether it was my lack of engagement with the people who had reacted so negatively in Morocco was causing my to take a certain view of their behaviour based on my interpretion. Two other encounters in the city at the time made me think that perhaps the personal connection between photographer and subject was a very important aspect of portraiture, particularly when not specifically planned. The first encounter was when one of our party took a shot of a man with his son sitting on a moped. I had shot the same picture moments before when the man was distracted by something and he did not see me. However, when my friend took the shot his reaction was similar to what I had encountered previously. He shouted at her, but perhaps my presence dissuaded him from becoming aggressive. His parting comment as he left interested me – he shouted “We are not animals in a zoo!”. Perhaps the voyeuristic nature of our presence as tourists was causing a reaction more than simple religious sensitivity. The people of Marrakesh are generally fairly poor, despite the tourism and recent formation of very affluent districts. The medina is culturally rich but most people work very hard for a living. I wondered whether an offer of money might have changed the man’s view of my friend shooting her picture. Maybe portraiture requires some form of transaction when it comes to working with complete strangers.
The other experience that I had was when walking through the old Jewish district of the city. I encountered a homeless woman sitting at the side of the road who was begging for money. I was struck be the faded state of her clothing and her sad demeanour, so I first gave her the small amount of money in my pocket. I then gestured to the camera and to my surprise she was more than happy to be photographed. The shot (below) was my favourite picture from the trip as even though it was a transaction that made it possible, it captures her in a natural way. At the time, I was happy that I had captured something about the woman’s personality, her current circumstances told through the sadness in her eyes and clothing. However, I didn’t have any kind of dialogue with her. Our encounter was an ice-breaker but not a conversation. My experiences to date hadn’t actually explored what would happen if there had been some time spent getting to know my portrait subjects.
A homeless woman in Morocco who agreed to have her portrait taken in exchange for a small amount of money. Any sadness I had disolved as she posed for this shot. What amazing dignity.
I then remembered that I had asked strangers for portraits while on holiday in Canada the following year. We were out for the day on a local vineyard and wine tasting tour and I took my camera to document the day. After the first vineyard and the obligatory shots of vines and bottles, I decided I was more interested in the people involved in the businesses rather than straight documentary. As each vineyard passed, I asked the person who took the tour if I could shoot their portrait. The reactions I got ranged from enthusiastic to reluctant, but at no time was there an uncomfortable exchange between us. I remember one lady, Terry who asked why I wanted to take a picture of ‘this old face’. The answer was that she had striking blue eyes that lit up her face – her portrait is as interesting to me now as it was when I shot it because of her eyes. By the end of the day (and having sampled a fair amount of wine), I had gotten into the swing of engaging, chatting and then shooting my subjects. The whole experience became easier as my confidence grew.
The Portraits
Larry (Quail’s Gate)Unknown (The Hatch Winery)Karin (Mt. Boucherie)Terry (Tantalus)Grant (Kitsch)Dave (Wine Guru)
Ideas on how to approach strangers
My concerns had clearly come from having never really tried to shoot portraits of people I didn’t know until the wine tour in Canada. Knowing that I could overcome my discomfort if I wanted to, I started to consider some ideas for approaching people in Assignment 1.
Cameras – Over the past few years, I have been collecting and shooting film cameras of a variety of ages and formats. This hobby has often led to me being stopped in the street by a passerby who is interested in the camera I am using. It strikes me that when there is a something of interest, complete strangers will talk to each other about it. I’ve observed the same with people who own dogs.
“Please Help with my Project” – perhaps the simplest way to engage with people would be to advertise that I am looking for help with this assignment. By giving people the option to engage with me on something that might interest them, the discomfort of my starting the conversation would be greatly reduced. The subsequent conversation would still be natural and the resulting photographs would not be staged with prior knowledge of the subject.
Friends of friends – another way of engaging with complete strangers would be to gain the support of friends to facilitate introductions with their friends. As above, this separates the discomfort of the initial engagement while preserving the separation.
Shop Owners – a number of other students on Identity and Place had approached the assignment by going into shops or businesses and asking for a portrait of the proprieter. This offers separation as well as lots of visual context and a structure to the shoot. One of the key learnings from Context and Narrative was to have some consistency in the approach to making work. In my case, the first time I successfully achieved this was during the self-portraiture assignment, where I had a consistent way of generating the words to be projected on my face and also to the technical shoot itself.
Conclusion
In conclusion, the meeting with my tutor was very helpful in guiding my thoughts on Assignment 1. Naturally, I have a lot of work to complete in Part 1 before I need to shoot it. At the time of writing, my thoughts are revolving around my portrait series being about life in the current pandemic. People are naturally cautious about being close to others and in the current lockdown situation, we are all supposed to be at home with the exception of exercise and vital journeys – this doesn’t fit well with the assignment. However, by the time I reach that stage in the course, there is some optimism about relaxation of some of the rules we are living under. I am hoping that because of the way our lives have been restricted that people will actually be more amenable to being approached for a chat – we have all missed human contact. I will be revisiting this post and its assumptions when I reach that point in the coursework.
Richard Fletcher OCA Photography Blog 