Images – Part 1

Over the past few days I have been involved in a series of events that have caused me to think a great deal about images and how we use them. The first was a visit from an old friend (considerations that flow from that visit will become part 1 of this), and the second was the detailing of images needed for a course I have been working on (which will be part 2).

Since my thoughts on the subject started here, let me start with my old friend.

Tony and I lived across the street from each other in a neighborhood in Brooklyn called Park Slope. At about the same time in our childhoods we got into photography. We got cameras, built darkrooms, got better cameras, got more stuff, and in general were part of (or were trying to be part of) a craft that supported enough stores that 32^nd street became known as the center of the "photo district," and which was supported aesthetically by galleries and museums all across Manhattan. We would go and spend our Saturdays wandering up and down the streets looking at the gear, and learning about the mechanics and the aesthetics of the art by taking lots and lots of pictures, and by looking at lots and lots of pictures. Pictures were some kind of magic, a way in which one could isolate and freeze a small view of the world, one based on personal aesthetics, composition and timing. Each picture had a decisive moment, which a photographer needed to recognize in order to push the button at the correct time.

One of the things that became second nature was being immersed in how photography had become part of the culture. At the time one of our jokes involved a cultural oddity that I suspect people under 30 have never seen – the slide show. It involved 35mm slides in a Kodak Carousel projector, thrown up on a wall with little if any editing on the part of the photographer. That was the joke – "I went to Italy and took these 3,000 photographs. I hope you're comfortable."

It seems as though the joke is now on us. There are images everywhere, both still and moving. And watching someone's home movies, once a source of dread and depression, are now shared by the millions on youtube (and the important point here is that they are not only shared, but watched).

The tools we use seem to have separated us a bit from the magic – what matter if there is a decisive moment – just shoot 25 frames in front of and behind it, and you'll probably capture it. At one point in my research I crossed paths with a field called visual studies – a self-defined "serious topic," easily recognized because it dealt with images that were, as far as I could tell, uniformly out of focus, poorly composed and uncentered, sort of what you would get if you set a camera to trip the shutter every 15 minutes, then tucked it under your arm and went for a walk. As I write this the thought occurs that there are those who would disagree with me, and argue for randomness and against focus.

Tony stayed with it, and became quite good. He is what was once described as a craftsman – creating carefully crafted images of technical excellence, balanced composition, and thoughtful purpose. I moved in a different direction that has led me to consider how we use images to learn, and that will become the "part 2" of this meditation.