Author: Phil Hill

Book Dummy Construction V1

| Phil Hill

Now that I have collected together a range of images from my archive and created a number of experiments with the images, I thought that it would be a useful exercise to create a small book dummy to see how these elements might come together.

I aimed with the dummy to create physical ways of connecting the reader of the work with some of the themes that are running through the project so far. Themes of correspondence have started to run through the work as I piece together the narrative and also in the way that I have started to create letters and messages to reach out to family members (Fig: 1).

Figure 1: Phil Hill (March, 2021) ‘Unreliable Narrator’ Book Dummy version 1 spreads.

Carbon Paper.

Figure 2: Phil Hill (March, 2021) Carbon Copy page opposite image – showing carbon transferring to image page
Figure 3: Phil Hill (March, 2021) Carbon copy paper opposite image – non transfer side.

The use of carbon copy paper has become an interesting way to create links in the way that the photograph is indexical. The copy is also an indexical link to the object that it copies – usually a letter or some other kind of physical media. From the rubbings that I made, I decided to place a sheet within the book (Fig: 2&3). This creates an interesting page to look at and I could potentially use it to display either a rubbing or one of the copied letters and text that I have been working on. The carbon paper acts as a ‘memory’ of the letter, which creates a link to the idea of indexical and memory in my work. It also is an abstracted version of the original, another step removed from the object that it copies – much like the photograph. Another interesting use of the paper is the way that it continues to change and leave impression from anything that applies pressure, which is translated to the opposite page. I quite like this as an ongoing changing process in a book. Usually, the book is linear and static however, the use of carbon copy paper means that it is forever changing, much like a family narrative from an unreliable narrator might change their version of events.

A future version of the book could include a page opposite a blank sheet to show this transfer across.

  • Alternative to this method and possibly less destructive might be to continue to create a photographic reaction to the carbon copy paper in the same way as I have been working on with the back lit versions
  • It might also be possible to create an acetate version of the carbon copy paper and screen print it, which further abstracts the process and gives a higher level of craft to the book making process.

Typewriter.

Figure 4: Phil Hill (March, 2021) Unreliable Narrator cover with typewriter title.
Figure 5: Phil Hill (March, 2021) First spread showing typed letter (with 5×4 clear negative overlay)

I have continued to apply ways in which I can create more physicality with the work. The images from my families archive are mainly based in the late 70s and the 1980s. My own memories of this are also from the 80s and based in the 90s. Aesthetically, there is an opportunity to reference the period in as many ways as I can, through the use of design, typeface, and materials. A typewriter is firmly rooted in this time period and I also have memories of them around the time that I did have a relationship with my grandmother (Fig: 4&5).

The typewriter creates a physical link to the person typing and the outcome of the letter (or other material). Of course, there would be more of a link to a handwritten letter, however, within the archive that I am going through, there are many typed documents too. There is an official nature to the typed document, which links to ideas of state and narrative and it also works really well with the carbon copy paper (as it was designed).

There are really nice aesthetic and conceptual links to my project in the use of the typewriter.

Basildon Bond Letter paper.

Figure 6: Phil Hill (March, 2021) Archive image printed onto Basildon Bond Paper – Backlit and re-photographed.
Figure 7: Phil Hill (March, 2021) Archive image printed onto Basildon Bond Letter paper

I started to use this to create my correspondence. In continuing to explore this, I then produced a number of images printed onto the paper using a laser printer, which creates a photocopied aesthetic. This in itself connects to the archive and indexical links to the object being recorded. I also quite enjoy the way that this creates another level of abstraction to confuse and obscure the image – and also the inherent narrative.

I have photographed these photographs by backlighting the paper to show the grain if the paper and also the watermark within the page (Fig: 6). For the dummy, I decided to include sheets of the Basildon bond paper from the letters I have written and also the images (Fig: 7). I like the idea of including different paper stock into the publication with the potential to lead to new discoveries each time that you review it. Having both letters and images on the same paper stock creates links between them in the way that I am purposefully utilising letter writing material.

The use if Basildon Bond places additional links to the decade that the images are coming from. The paper stock is very ‘of its time’ and people from the era would be very familiar with the use of it in comedic sketched by Russ Abbot, for example. My use of it might serve to continue to link to the time period of my family album and a kind of surreal and farcical nature to some of the materials in the archive. Basildon Bond paper was a way of projecting an air of quality to the recipient of the letter – it is quite a middle-class object, even if the person was not.

Further research might be useful however, to determine whether I could use this for publication and any copyright issues that might arise from the use of the watermark.

Manual Intervention

Figure 8: Phil Hill (March, 2021) Torn edge of Unreliable Narrator book dummy.
Figure 9: Phil Hill (March, 2021) Deckle Edge paper

One of the main areas of interest I have had in the archive is in the ‘manual intervention’ photograph. The intrigue and mystery of what might be in the part of these photograph that has been cut out is something that I want to explore.

For this book dummy, decided to tear one edge of the booklet as if there was additional information outside of it (Fig: 8). I quite like the finish of this and there could be great potential in including something like this in the resulting book dummy. The impact of what I am trying to achieve with the tear is lost somewhat when the whole book is torn. It almost appears as a ‘Deckle edge’ that is seen in some paperback books (Fig: 9). Instead, I may aim to look into individual pages or groups of pages to create additional intrigue and mystery. This would work to serve the overall narrative and impact of the book.

Removed photographs

Figure 9: Phil Hill (March, 2021) Unreliable Narrator V1 images of the ‘Snapshots’ album
Figure 10: Phil Hill (March, 2021) Unreliable Narrator V1 cover with peeled image trace

Within the archive there was an album with the majority of images removed (Fig: 9). I like the way that this creates additional intrigue as to what might have been there in a similar way to the cut image. I also noted the absence of the image says as much, if not more regarding the context on its removal than any benign image that might have been there. The still life of the page also created an interesting photographic object of the empty pages and how the glue and sugar paper page has been damaged from the photographs removal.

I created an experiment where I glued a piece of paper to the cover of the dummy and then carefully removed it to reveal a similar trace to the ones left in the ‘snapshots’ album connecting the dummy to those images and also referencing the mystery once again (Fig: 10). With the project themes of unreliable narration, there is definitely information and confusion to be sort from the absence of images as much as the ones that are on display – also linking to an absence of memory.

I was quite pleased with the result of this experiment. It works well to feel the concept and ideas. It also creates a unique object in the way that the removal of the image degrades the page. If I make more than one dummy, each one will be slightly different, much like the way that the carbon page will do the same and again feeding the idea of how unreliable the narration and narrative is.

Binding

Figure 11: Seri Hanunn (2012) Japanese ‘Stab’ Binding technique
Figure 12: Phil Hill (March, 2021) Unreliable Narrator V1 Back Cover

The book has been bound using a Japanese stab binding method (Fig: 11), which allowed me to piece together the different materials into one publication (Fig: 12). If I am to do this as a final outcome however, I will need to refine this process. Already, I understand the need to use a good book binding vice to keep the pages together and bind it neatly. I also would need to look at methods of uniformly cutting the edges that are supposed to be straight. The tutorial that I followed suggested that the margin needs to be quite wide, however I have overcompensated leading to the margin being far too wide to view the content. The method is quite useful as a way of putting together a book of this type and could lead to some quite aesthetic ways of sewing it. It is essentially a ‘perfect bound’ binding and could also be utilised as a way of streamlining the process or considering the cost and time of producing many.

On Family

| Phil Hill

I have become quite interested in why you would choose to keep an image that has been abruptly ‘edited’ and continue to display such an image within the context of the family album.

These images have been referred to by Quetzal Maucci as a ‘Manual Intervention Photograph’ (MIP) in that they have been visibly changed by the act of cutting, drawing, scratching, tearing etc. Is this some kind of Freudian ‘Death Drive’ of self-destruction that seeks to cause confrontation with those removed from the image? (Derrida, 1995, p. 14). 

Liz Wells notes: “The photographs we keep for ourselves are treasured less for their quality than for their context, and for the part they play in confirming and challenging the identity and history of their users” (2004, p. 117). This is a way of understanding the MIP as a way of shaping the narrative, informing the identity of the person making these forms of ‘edits’ to photographs – a form of self-appointed control of self-identity over the person or persons within the photograph. To its most extreme, an MIP highlights the violence and trauma that exists outside of the frame and represents it through the physicality of the photograph. The political hierarchy of the family album having been irrevocably disrupted. The MIP brings this to the forefront of the image reading in a very overt way, even if there are no answers for this intervention, the emotive act of distressing the image is laid bare.

Yet, even if the image had not been distressed, the influence and pressure of a situation outside of the frame still remains, as Wells goes on to remind us: “Personal pictures are deeply unreliable, but that is where their interest lies” (p. 118). MIPs are even a paradox of Well’s statement: on the one hand they are relatively more reliable, providing some additional information to a situation and context existent around them. However, they are still not reliable enough for anyone unaware or outside of this to understand, leading to additional questions, possibly more than if the image was merely left as is. Family photographs are read as innocuous, generic and harmless for most, and the inclusion of an MIP within this context brings these benign pleasantries to a crashing halt. As Marianne Hirsch discusses images left after the holocaust: “And it is precisely the utter conventionality of the domestic family picture that makes it impossible to comprehend how the person in the picture was, or could have been, annihilated. In both cases, the viewer fills in what the picture leaves out: the horror of looking is not necessarily in the image but the story the viewer provides to fill in what has been omitted” (1997, p. 21). A photograph on its own is never enough to grasp the reality of what is happening outside the frame. However, by manually intervening with the photograph any benign reading of the it is irrevocably interrupted.

Questions raised by MIPs, maybe uncomfortable ones. Would it not be better to have just removed the whole image from the album instead? This could depend on the expected audience for the album. When I look at the MIP images in my parents archive, I wonder who the person cut from the image is, however, my parents already know. Personal photography is rarely consumed or even understood outside of the nuclear family. Within, it is offered as a ‘greatest hits’ collection of idealised moments curated from, for example, holidays and events that bring them together. From this, we can consider the family as a form of ‘state’ aiming to provide an ‘official’ narrative to look back and be reminded of the good times. Family albums are not meant for anyone outside of it and the difficulty in decoding and trying understand nuances of an individual family structure is the reason why Barthes chooses not to show us the image of his mother – only he can appreciate the complexities of this image and its meaning to him (Hirsch, 1997, p. 2). It could then be assumed that the inclusion of a MIP is there as a reminder to the person that made the intervention and for no one else to see it.

But why? What value is there in keeping the image have over removing it fully? Potentially, there are elements of Identity, power and control at play here. Without knowing the reasons for the MIP, I can only speculate[i] however, it is quite a powerful thing to physically remove someone from the record, as seen in photographs of the soviet era (Fig: 1), and maybe it is the only meaningful way that this can be enacted when unable to do so in real life. The disrupted photograph becomes the manifestation of a form of control and power for the powerless. Michel Foucault argues that the only real power is sovereign power (Koopman, 2017) and sovereignty over one’s own archive of personal and family photography is key to understand why such a photograph would continue to exist within it. You have the complete power to do with what you will with the images that you possess and in private to take satisfaction that you have enacted this control.

Figure 1: Getty (1930s) Nikolai Yezhov, pictured right of Stalin, was later removed from this photograph at the Moscow Canal.

Post memory
Figure 2: Unknown (1970s) Scan of family album including manual Intervention photographs

How does this translate into the way others see these images? The narrative is select and defined by a few parameters set by the archivist, or the person who puts together the album. If context and information is needed, then it is sort from the person who put the album together. When I first went through my family album, I briefly asked why there was a number of photographs with parts missing. The answer I received from my dad was that they were out of focus on that side however, on looking through the negatives I found one of the images (Fig: 2) that was being referred to, which was technically ok. This creates more questions about the images, which I intend to unpack further with both my parents.

Hirsch’s discussion of Post memory is also important to include in the evaluation of photography as an unreliable narrator. Specifically, it notes the distance of generations and history on those having the narrative relayed to them (1997, p. 22), creating opportunities for elements such as bias and personal subjectivity to enter into the narrative. Photography’s flawed position as an objective record of events also impacts this. Photography can be considered an unreliable narrator in itself by applying Wayne C. Booth use of distance (1975, p. 156), stating that a narrator [or photography in my use of the term] may be distant from authors, characters [or subjects], and even the readers own norms [considering Barthes’ ‘Death of the Author’ (1977, pp. 142-149)].

[i] I do intend on interviewing those who made the image in the case of my own family album

Bibliography

Barthes, R., 1977. Death of the Author. In: Image, Music, Text. New York: Fontana, pp. 142-149.

Booth, W. C., 1975. The Rhetoric of Fiction. 11 ed. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.

Derrida, J., 1995. Archive Fever: A Freudian Impression. Diacritics, 25(2), pp. 9-63.

Hirsch, M., 1997. Family Frames: Photography, Narrative and Postmemory. 2012 Reissue ed. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press.

Koopman, C., 2017. The power thinker. [Online] Available at: https://aeon.co/essays/why-foucaults-work-on-power-is-more-important-than-ever
[Accessed 12 March 2021].

Wells, L., 2004. Photography: A Critical Introduction. 3 ed. London: Routledge.

3rd Meeting 16/03

| Phil Hill
Unreliable Narrator (working title) – Link to PDF
Date of Supervision Meeting16/03/21
Start time of Meeting12:30
Length of Meeting in minutes35 minutes
Meeting Notes & Action PointsIt was useful to show the progress of my project and the experiments that I have been working on in relation to my family archive.

– We briefly discussed the portfolio review with Mariamma Attah, which was incredibly useful in the ways that she encouraged and challenged my work. Wendy encouraged me to review her keynote lecture to consolidate the points she made during the review. 

– In particular, about the future of photography being collaborative

– I need to work towards identifying people to work with on the project.

– Review Seba Kurtis work.

– The experimentation is a really good way to move forward with the project at this stage and I should continue doing so

– It would be worth getting the work printed out to start creating some sequencing and reviewing how the work is starting to fit and come together.
Date of Next Proposed Meeting20/04/21

Publishing a Book

| Phil Hill

At the end of the surfaces and strategies module, I pitched my project to Out of Place books who were interested in turning it into a small book. The aims of my project about place fit quite well with the ethos of Out of Place, so it felt like a good place to publish this project. Start to finish, the book took the whole of the next module to put together and publish, partly due to the pandemic. This did provide an opportunity to put together some additional images that also made it into the final book.

Figure 1: Phil Hill (2021) ‘I hope this finds you safe and well’ published by Out of Place books

The resulting book was published as an edition of 60 (Fig: 1) with a risograph printed card cover and an additional print for anyone who bought the Book in the pre-sale. This was a great addition on the part of the publisher and was really well received by those who bought one.

I found it really useful to be involved in the process of producing a book. There have been times where I have questioned the value of photobooks as a sole outlet for a photography project owing to the limited nature of the audience willing to buy into the object. I have shifted my opinion to consider the book as part of a wider range of methods to disseminate work. My book was published as an addition of 60, with a fair few of those being bought by friends and family, so I am in essence preaching to the converted with the book. However, it has created a certain platform that gives a small amount of authority for then work – the publication is an automatic signal to consider my work more seriously. It has also generated conversation and increased audience over social media, which has been useful to raise profile, albeit still in a small way. As a springboard, this has been a fantastic opportunity to get people to look at my work. For example, off the back of the publication, I was interviewed by the online platform Nowhere Diary (Fig: 2), which has also led to an increased following and dialogue with peers. I do still consider the photobook not the end of a project necessarily, but potentially a central focus in which other opportunities might be afforded, such as exhibition, talks and workshops.

Figure 2: Phil Hill & Nowhere Diary (2021) Book feature and interview on Nowhere Diary platform

I am already discussing the project together with my research into my FMP project at the Communities and Communication conference at the end of April. I will also be talking to the photography course at the college where I work about the project and the book making process.

The book was really well received and in a few weeks had sold out, which has completely surprised me. The support for the work was really validating and feels as though I am on to something with my direction of research. Out of Place have also been incredibly supportive in putting the work together and getting it published under the conditions of lockdown. It is worth noting however, that because of the pandemic, I was not able to meet Chris from Out of Place in person, so much of the conversation about putting the work together and decisions over sequence and output medium were done remotely. If I am to do another, I would be really keen to be more immersed in the process of creating the work. Not to take away from the resulting book, which I absolutely love and happy with the result.

Taking the experience into the FMP, I have mooted a book as part of the potential outcomes for the project. I am not sure that at this stage, the imagery that I a m   working with would necessarily fit the type of publications that Out of Place do. However, there is potential to create another publication with them that considers the sense of place and exploration around the area that I grew up, which feed would off the themes that I am exploring. Out of Place are interested in looking at creating another book with some of the images that did not make it into ‘I hope this finds you safe and well,’ and they are encouraging me to continue with the project, which is really positive moving forward.