I decided to take Ed Rucha’s ‘Twentysix Gasoline Stations’ (1963) as inspiration. It has always been a book that I have enjoyed, having discovered it very early on studying photography.
The images were selected from a number of 35mm film shoots that I have been doing between the modules, which are a departure from what I have been completing for my work in progress (Fig: 1). This was as I am researching to consider the way documentary photography is perceived and see if it could play a role in developing my approach.
Figure 2: Phil Hill (May, 2020) Spread from ‘Blossom in the Time of Corona’
I wanted to create a series that first might be perceived in an arbitrary and mundane way through aesthetically pleasing images of trees in blossom (Fig: 2), which then plays on that sense of collected awareness drawn from the context of this happening during the peak of the lock down. Beautiful yet surreal when considering the time in which the images were taken. I have also added a series of double exposures to juxtapose these feelings, which I aimed to show the chaos of the situation without photographing indexical gloves and masks that have appeared en masse (Fig: 3).
Figure 3: Phil Hill (May, 2020) Double Exposure from ‘Blossom in the Time of Corona’
I aimed to use Rucha’s book as a framework to present my own work and to form the basis for the narrative within the images and followed this with the blossom images, which also utilises ‘Twentysix Gasoline Stations’ in the format of the text as a way to provide additional context in the way that the images can be read. The title is also a reference to Ruscha’s book in the graphic style of the typeface and a subtle gradient on the cover to create a sense of the aging and yellowing of the pages that Rucha’s book has been subjected to over the years since its printing (Fig: 4), which is evident in the walk through video of the book (Fig: 5).
Figure 4: Phil Hill (May, 2020) Cover from ‘Blossom in the Time of Corona’
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kP4peTvkThQ
Figure 5: Ed Ruscha (1963) Twentysix Gasoline Stations walk through video
Bibliography
Ruscha, E., 1963. Twentysix Gasoline Stations. 1 ed. Los Angeles: National Excelsior Press.
Considering the construction of my images and looking at the idea of the indexical and the iconic have be a big influence on my work during this module. I truly believe that without these fundamental lessons I may not have been able to develop and adapt my practice in response to the covid-19 outbreak and lock down. To be able to include both elements of the actual and the conceptual whilst being able to realise the same intent has been revelatory and something that I will continue to include even after things have returned to some kind of normality.
Short Statement of intent
“The Pathos of Distance” explores how we coexist in the same space yet live to our own individual rhythm – the idiorryhtym of separation. It is my idiorrythm to a place where I lived for some time but do not feel connected; a generational sense of tenuous job security and the liminality of the rental trap. However, a separation of community has a tangible meaning for all of us, under the conditions of pandemic and the limits it has placed on our civil liberties. My disconnect is a shared experience and for those with a stake in the community; in order to save it, we must remain distant from it.
Reflection
In order to achieve my intent, I have placed images that would seem aesthetically disparate next to each other in order to portray this separation visually. I started to create my project using an iconic approach in the way that the subjects are recognisable as the subjects; portraits are a resemblance of the subjects and the environmental topology I present in part two are based on the actuality of the objects existence. To contrast this, I created a series of abstracted images that together I hope would create more of a representation of this separation aesthetically and conceptually, as I mention in my critical review, quoting Peter Lamarque “resemblance is not sufficient for representation.” (Lamarque and Olsen, 2004: 347) and the representation in my diptychs can shift into a reading that represents more about me and my connection that it necessarily does of the person in the portrait. Additional meaning of the pairings is also of a broader community in separation as a result of the current pandemic.
Figure 1: Phil Hill (April, 2020) Peer feedback discussion on early version of portfolioFigure 2: Phil Hill (February – April, 2020) Experimenting with differing image sizes next to each other.
After reflecting on some peer feedback (Fig. 1) and discussing with Michelle how the work could be displayed, I have decided to present the diptychs as two equally sized imaged next to one another. I experimented with image placement and sizing (Fig. 2) However, the challenge was in the reading of the work, creating more emphasis on either a portrait or one of the windows, which changes the project and reading of the work to be more about one series of images over the other. Equal sizing of the work means that the images will have to be read as equivalent in the meaningful relationship to the sequence of the work as a whole (Fig. 3). In order to achieve this without the viewer of the work becoming tired of the same visual style of the edit, which was mentioned by my peers, I have decided to reduce the amount of images in this part of the project. I also removed some of the cropped portraits (Fig. 4) from the sequence after discussion with Michelle for consistency and how the full body portraits create a kind of topology that is a feature of my work on the whole. This also follows from some of the feedback I have received previously, where my portraits could be better placed within the environment so that a better contextualisation of the subject and who they are can be made in an individual image. By focussing on the full body portraits, there is a greater sense of these individuals as pillars of the communities in the setting where they are part of it.
Figure 3: Phil Hill (March – April, 2020) Equal sizing of images in diptych.Figure 4: Phil Hill (March, 2020) Geoff, elim food bank patron
I have also reduced the number of diptych’s in part two. The sequence here is in the aesthetic mirroring of images before the lock down and during. It was challenging to find images that did this effectively and had led to a couple of pairing that could be considered forced (Fig. 5). As a result, I made the decision to remove these from the series to create consistency of impact that the sequence is starting to have.
Figure 5: Phil Hill (March – April) unused diptych from part two.
Graphic elements
I have always been interested in how graphics work with images, which could be as simple as the typeface that is used to caption and preface the visual work. Graphic provide additional meaning and as a result need to be considered carefully as it could have a subtle influence on how the work is read.
Figure 6: Phil Hill (April, 2020) Title and Captions for ‘The Pathos of Distance’ WIPP
For example, I have utilised the typeface ‘Futura’ for the title and caption information in my portfolio (Fig. 6). This san-serif typeface is designed for maximum legibility and is used for well-known brands, such as Volkswagen in their print advertisements (Fig. 7) and notably in the work of Barbara Kruger in reference to these advertisements and mass media uses (Fig. 8). Futura is also part of the ‘Neo-Grotesque’ font family that includes Helvetica, which is commonly used for government information (Fig. 9) owing to its clarity and the perceived authority of the message. In the way that John Tagg discusses how the photograph has been employed the state: “The ‘truth’ of these individual photographs may be said to be a function of several intersecting discourses: that of government departments, that of journalism, more especially documentarism, and that of aesthetics” (Tagg, 1988, p. 173). The same can be argued of how typeface is utilised to create a ‘truth’ and that this might be enhanced when image and text work together, which provides an intertextual link to my research and discussion on the documentary aesthetic and authenticity of images.
Figure 1. Phil Hill (April, 2020) Discarded Gloves found during walking (Posted to The Long Exposure)
A few weeks ago, I suggested to the rest of my cohort that a positive way to spend time in this lock down period could be through collaboration and create an Instagram account called ‘The Long Exposure,‘ which we could all use to share images created in isolation (Fig. 1). This also gave me the opportunity to start to engage with audiences and share some of my latest work that is also part of my WIPP and gauge its reaction.
Instagram creates a direct means of dissemination via an accessible platform, which easily puts together images from a similar body of work and share it with an interested audience. This, of course depends on the ability to utilise a number of specific hashtags that direct the work in front of the right people searching for that content. There is an opportunity through platforms such as Instagram to put the work in front of a wider audience than if, for example, it was only to be an exhibition, which would be limited by the time of display and location of the exhibition space together with the demographic of the audience, which might be limited to those already only interested in the arts. Similar could be said of the photobook, which I have discussed previously (Fig. 2).
Figure 2. Phil Hill (March, 2020) Are You Drowning Yet? Discussing audience, social media, and the photo book.
There are many positive to displaying my work on Instagram, however there are a number of challenges too associated with Instagram, and platforms like it. For example, the display of the image is limited by the way that Instagram forces you to upload and present it in the square format that is synonymous with the platform (Fig. 3). There are some that work around this by adding a white border and is also something that I have also adopted with my uploads to the platform (Fig.4). This seems to be used by many creatives as a way of denoting more serious work, which Kat Stoeffel refers to as the “Anti-Filter” (Stoeffel, 2014) and notes of photography blogger and prolific Instagram user, Andy Adams: I’m guessing the trend originated with professional and fine-art photographers, and those who promote their work, like Andy Adams, the editor of online-photography blog FlakPhoto. Since the beginning of the year, Adams has been teasing the art featured on his blog on Instagram, using Photoshop to add the white space necessary to render the photographs in their original dimensions. To him, the rise of the white border implies “photographers of all levels” — i.e., those who can make photographs without their cell phones — are “recognizing Instagram as a powerful tool not just for making but for talking about and sharing photographs.” (Adams in Stoeffel, 2014). Therefore creating a differentiation from the many thousands of images that are uploaded to platform, which are vernacular in their nature and one that signals that this work should be considered instead of consumed.
Figure 3. Phil Hill (December, 2018) Images from my photography Instagram feed before adopting a white border.
Figure 4. Phil Hill (April, 2020) Images from WIPP posted to ‘The Long Exposure’ including a white border.
However, it is the many thousands of uploads that become part of the challenge of using a site such as Instagram, as we have looked at previously, during ‘a sea of images’ (Fig. 5). Any upload is ultimately mired in a deluge of imagery shaped by the algorithms that drive the site and that creates a homogeneous effect, as Lev Manovich informs us: “Different elements of photo culture that throughout 19th and 20th century were separate, now have been combined in a simple platform” (Manovich, 2017), in which he is referring to how of of the technological elements of photography have come together, are more accessible and easier to use for the average user and you can see how this is shaping the similarities in the images posted to the site (Fig. 6), even in the white bordered ‘serious’ work uploaded (Fig. 7).
Figure 5. Phil Hill (March, 2020) Discussion on the ubiquity of images and their value
Figure 6. Insta Repeat (2020) Image from @Insta_Repeat
Figure 7. This Ain’t Art School (2020) Profile aggregating and curating more serious work based on submissions to a hashtag.
During the last module, I produced a zine and postcard set (Fig. 8) to help disseminate the work with the aim of sharing my project with a range of editors. I won’t be able to produce similar under the present lockdown circumstances, so Instagram is one way that my work can be continued to be shared, however I feel that this should be supported through other channels, so not to be too reliant on just one. This would include my own website, where the work can be displayed as I intended. I would also be looking at sharing the work via Linkedin, as the audience for the work is more tailored to industry professionals who might be more inclined to engage with it.
Figure 8. Phil Hill (November, 2019) Zine and Post Card set produced for ‘The Wessex Grand Prix’ project.
Moving forward, I would ultimately want to produce physical materials to share the work. My postcards for ‘The Wessex Grand Prix’ were well received and I would want to replicate this with this more developed work. I also am quite interested in continuing the collaborative approach with my peers, I believe that on the other side of this pandemic, there is an opportunity to curate either an exhibition, or some kind of publication from the images that we have collectively been sharing.
Bibliography
Manovich, L., 2017. Instagram and Contemporary Image. Online: Manovich.net.
Stoeffel, K., 2014. Introducing the Anti-Filter: The Rise of the White Border on Instagram. [Online] Available at: https://www.thecut.com/2014/04/whats-up-with-these-white-borders-on-instagram.html [Accessed 22 April 2020].
