Physicality of the photograph.

I want to start experimenting with the physicality of the photograph. It is something that I have spoken about and considered in terms of the qualities of the medium inherent already. There have been a number of times where I have looked at this a bit more closely in previous module, yet I don’t think that I have truly considered the impact the my experimentation could have on the surface of the image, in the sense of how mark making and physical manipulation of the image could also be a reflection of the concepts I am aiming to put across.

Wellcome Photography Prize
Figure 1: Phil Hill (December, 2020) 5×4 Portrait of my daughter, Darcie. Developed at 36.5 Degrees and degraded with Fungus.

During the live brief challenges, I came up with a concept for the Oxfam challenge that wasn’t used. I also felt it was better suited to the ‘health in a heating world’ theme of this year’s Wellcome Photography Prize. My concept is based on a change in the way that pathogens may survive at human body temperature:

Synopsis:

When my daughter was born, she was cold. Cold enough for the doctors to suggest keeping her under observation within the hospital ‘special care’ unit and followed by regular checking of temperature. Ever since her temperature is normally recording at 36.5 degrees, which is lower than the average of 37 degrees Celsius for body temperatures. This is a trend that is becoming more and more common with body temperatures steadily dropping over a number of decades and has been linked to the healthcare system taking the place of the human thermal barrier.

Alarmingly, at the same time a fungal infection called Candida Auris, which is suspected to have existed for thousands of years has been attributed to a series of infections in people around the world. This fungal infection is beginning to breech the thermal barrier, where previously it has not normally been able to survive in the human body owing to our relative hot temperature compared to the environment. It has been suggested by Arturo Casadevall, et al (2019) that these fungal infections are effectively being ‘trained’ to survive through a series of consistently hotter days year on year, caused by climate change.

It is thought that there are potentially millions of microbes that exist just below the human thermal barrier, some of which may be able to cause disease. Increased temperatures are evolving the capabilities of microbe through mutation to allow them to survive at higher temperatures, just as modern medicine is effectively lowering ours. The next pandemic may take the form of one of these threats, impacting all of us.

Entry:

For my entry (Fig: 1), I aimed to ustilise elements of the challenges faced by Candida Auris. As I have been using black and white film in my practice and processing it at home, I was able to develop the negative at my daughter at her body temperature. Although this is considered a marginally low temperature for humans, it is extremely hot to process film, speeding up the time and also impacting the emulsion on the negative’s surface.

Figure 2: Seung-Hwan OH (2014) Portrait degraded with bacteria.

I was Inspired by an approach of Korean artist Seung-Hwan OH, who uses bacteria to interact with the image (Fig: 2) creating surreal and abstract portraits that a text on the work by Boraam Han suggests “The visual result of the symbiosis between film matter and organic matter is the conceptual origin of this body of work” (Han & OH, 2014). I aimed to introduce a fungus in the form of mould formed from bread onto the image, which creates the degraded look to the final image. My approach was not to create an image as abstract as OHs, as Darcie is an important part of the image together with the methods I used to degrade it.

The process of making this image has been really valuable in creating the space in the FMP to consider ways that I can interact and intervene with the image that has links to the outcomes and concepts I am aiming to put across.

FMP Experiments:

Considering ways of introducing a physical interaction to the image that relates to the concepts, I have started with an idea of a lack of archive.

During discussions in my second supervisor meeting we spoke about the range of archive based projects. I noted that when I look at my own archive, there is a distinct lack of images present and I as I have mentioned before, this archive effectively ceases in the mid-late 90s as my father’s camera broke and not replaced (until cheap digital cameras made it possible for my dad to buy another). There is also a print album amongst the other images that has had most of its prints removed from the sugar paper pages – a future exploration will be photographing the pages of this album once I have access to a proper studio.

Figure 3: Derek Hill/Phil Hill (Late 80s) Twin Check label over image.

One area of exploration is linked to this idea of memory. I have already identified a number of images that have the ‘Twin-check’ label ingrained onto the image (Fig: 3), which creates link to the process of photography and memory in the way that these numbers are used to match the negative to the person who placed the order. These numbers could become quite important in the development of the work and I am working on some ways that I can include these into my project.

Figure 4: Sebastiano Pomata & Phil Hill (May, 2020) Negative re-photographed

Appropriation of the image is something that I am returning to. During Surfaces and Strategies, I invited others to photograph and then I copied the negatives onto a new roll of film – my film. I felt that this was a kind of appropriation and me taking some kind of ownership over this image (Fig: 4). Although I did not make any of the decisions in taking the original, I did make a series of technical and aesthetic choices to copy the image onto a new film. It can be argued that photographing is a step removed from the reality in which it has been photographed – for me I am only able to see the representation of the reality. I created a further step removed from this reality in the re-photographed version as you are then only seeing a copy of the representation, which I have no connection to – even though I might claim that this version is ‘mine.’ As Walter Benjamin reminds us:

“Even the most perfect reproduction of a work of art is lacking in one element: its presence in time and space, it’s unique essence at the place where it happens to be”

(Benjamin, 1968: 220)

To further explore this idea of appropriation and memory, I have started to look at Carbon Transfer Paper used for copying invoices and letters. The idea came from watching the Sara Davidmann guest lecture (2016), where she mentioned all of the carbon copies of correspondence in the archive for ‘Ken, To be destroyed,’ which triggered a memory of my own experiences playing with a carbon copy pad as a child, when I did have a relationship with my grandmother. She had a bureau full of these items and also a typewriter – all things I could consider exploring. Much like the ‘Twin-check’ label, carbon copies of documents are a way of creating a memory of an object, which might usually be associated with being a ‘one off’ prior to digital technology.  

Figure 5: Phil Hill (February, 2021) Negative transferred onto paper using carbon copy paper.

For initial explorations using this material, I have been attempting to transfer a negative onto paper. There is a subtle relief on the surface of a negative; where there are highlights there is no emulsion and where there are shadows there is emulsion present. In this first attempt however, I am only getting an outline of the negative. This does create an interesting image in itself and I quite enjoy the idea of this being a direct impression of the negative as an object and that there is an image on its surface even if you can’t see it in this representation (Fig: 5).

Bibliography

Benjamin, W., 1968. The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction. In: Illuminations. New York: Schocken Books, pp. 217-252.

Casadevall, A., Kontoyiannis, D. P. & Robert, V., 2019. On the Emergence of Candida auris: Climate Change, Azoles, Swamps, and Birds. American Society For Microbiology, 10(4), pp. 1-7.

Davidman, S., 2016. Guest Lecture: Sara Davidman. Falmouth: Falmouth Flexible (Falmouth University).

Han, B. & OH, S.-H., 2014. Impermanence_Untitled. [Online] Available at: https://www.seunghwan-oh.com/text1 [Accessed 26 February 2021].

Photography – The Unreliable Narrator.

The idea of the unreliable narrator, or as Wayne C. Booth also describe as being a ‘fallible’ narrator (1975: 157) is usually applied to fiction writing, however it is a fairly apt description of photography when we consider its definitions. Novelist Sarah Pinborough puts it best “story tellers that cannot be trusted” noting:

“we’re all unreliable narrators of our lives who usually have absolute trust in our self-told stories. Any truth is, after all, just a matter of perspective”

(2017)

Truth in photography has been discussed many times and clearly shown to have a slippery grasp on the concept. Yet, we still tend to believe the image as presented, even when the photograph is a step removed from the reality when it was taken. John Berger reminds us: “The photograph is about this actuality” (2013: 8) and it is important to place further emphasis on the statement ‘about this actuality’ as in the image is not the actuality but a description of it and never a full one. When thinking about the ways in which literary critique can also apply to photography, It is also worth considering the links between the novel and the image with a prime example being Jack Kerouac’s introduction to Robert Frank’s ‘The Americans’ (2014) in which this bastion of the documentary photography genre also sets up the idea that what you are looking at is absolutely a blend of fiction and non-fiction, or as Vanessa Winship describes as “chronicle and fiction” (2015) just as Kerouac does in constructing his partially autobiographical ‘On the Road’ (2000).

Photography is assumed to be more reliable than reading a novel, as you are aware of the book’s construction. Even non-fiction, or autobiographical works of literature are assumed as being embellished, fictionalised, and as Pinborough stated, all about perspective. Booth discusses a distance between the author and the reader of the text and this is created in the use of the narrator within it, whether reliable or not:

“the distance can be on any axis of value. Some successful authors keep most of their characters far ‘away’ in every respect”

(1975: 158)

This distance of the literary narrator in our case is the camera and photography. However, It is much harder for authors of photographs to distance themselves from their narrator to the reader, owing to the direct link of the author clicking the shutter in the same space and time as the thing photographed. It is much harder to separate these things as a reader of the image as the actuality of the object is always present.

This is still a flawed translation of the object. The camera places its qualities on the result – limits of technology, time and light; and human qualities of our own orientation mean that the object photographed can never be resolved in its total existent self. We do our best to interpret the object, and maybe photography is more reliable than other methods but it is still a means of subjective construction telling only one side of the narrative – this limits create an unreliable means of narrating. As Booth also points out: “the author cannot choose to avoid rhetoric; he can only choose the kind of rhetoric he will employ” (p. 149).

Figure 1: Bob Rogers (1956) Robert and Boat.

The reliability of photographs is believed to the point that when a deception occurs, the shock resonates. Within the novel, this is a useful plot device to create intrigue within a narrative. Within photography it is an immutable quality remaining undetected for the most part and once the discovery has been made, the message of the work is irrevocably changed for the reader (p. 158). A good example of this can be seen within the images of photographer Bob Rodger’s father (Fig: 1) standing next to the boat, which is not his. A simple but deceptive image designed to project a certain class and social status to the viewer of the image unaware that he has not the means, yet for Roger’s Father:

“He understood, too, that the photographic image created its own reality: in the world of that image, he was a boat owner … And the picture, created by the ‘objective’ lens, certified the reality of this claim”

(Heiferman, 2012: 239)
Manually intervened
Figure 2: Unknown (1930s) A portrait of Djakhan Abidova, a woman in the Communist Party of Uzbekistan, deliberately damaged as part of an effort to erase her in the nineteen-thirties

After suggesting that photography is an unreliable narrator using Booth’s literary analysis, what about clues left by other unreliable narrators, supposedly to further weaken the case for actuality within the image but instead creates intrigue for the story that they instead want to tell. Photography is an unreliable narrating tool used by us as unreliable narrators of our own stories. What I find really interesting about my own family archive is the way that the photograph has been disrupted to hide one truth but create another from what may have been another innocuous image within the album. Why not remove the whole image from the archive completely? As with images doctored during the time of Stalin (Fig: 2), it feels like a form of control, or as Ingrid Pollard suggests, a state sponsored voice (2021). This idea has come up in my research before: the idea of a state instantly creates thoughts of political powers creating narrative to suit agendas and there are similarities to the way that the family album is collated and images collected together. It is mentioned in ‘Shape of Evidence’ (Berrebi, 2014) of Michel Focault’s discussion on ‘state assembled archives’ (2014, p. 42). A version of the state could be argued to be the family in my own case, and the archive is no less assembled. As Berrebi points out: “there are no such thing as ‘found objects,’ but only objects that are ‘set aside’, selected and re-contextualised” (p. 41), which highlights that everything within the archive is not there by accident – including those images that has been manually intervened. This raises the question of who the album is in fact for? Is it to be front facing for public consumption? Surely, awkward questions would then be raised as to why the image is there. Or, more likely, is the album for private reflection, so that the image can be viewed as a reminder why the expunged are no longer part of the photographic print, linking back to Barthes idea that we wish to hold on to those we expel from our communities as reminders of what we wish not to be (2012, p. 81).

Bibliography

Barthes, R., 2012. How to Live Together: Novelistic Simulations of some Everyday Spaces. Translation ed. New York: Columbia University Press.

Berger, J., 2013. Understanding a Photograph. London: Penguin Classics.

Berrebi, S., 2014. The Shape of Evidence: Contemporary Art and the Document. Amsterdam: Valiz.

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

Frank, R., 2014. The Americans. Göttingen: Steidl.

Heiferman, M., 2012. Photography Changes. 1st ed. New York: Aperture Foundation.

Kerouac, J., 2000. On the Road. New Edition ed. London: Penguin Classics.

Pinborough, S., 2017. Top 10 unreliable narrators. [Online] Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/books/2017/jan/04/top-10-unreliable-narrators-edgar-allan-poe-gillian-flynn [Accessed 17 February 2021].

Pollard, I., 2021. Four Corners talk: Out of the Archive, London: Four Corners.

Winship, V., 2015. A Small Voice: Conversations with Photographers – 082 – Vanessa Winship: “And Time Folds” Special [Interview] (11 September 2015).

Belfast Photo submission

Off the back of creating my proposal for FMP, I have used the core ideas and material to present an idea related to my project. I think that if anything, it is really valuable to start considering outputs for the project and although I am not directly considering an exhibition for the work, it would be really beneficial to have it seen in different contexts.

Project submission:

In the absence of memory, all I have is an unreliable narrator.

What happens in the absence of memory or if memory is the construction of an unreliable narrator?

My own family is disparate, uncommunicative, and alienated. The relationship between my mother and her mother is strained to a point where they have not spoken for over 25 years – from when I was a child myself and unable to fully understand why and where. Ever since the narrative has been shaped by those still around to construct it. I look at some of the images within this archive and wonder what happened, as Marianne Hirsch notes: “Perhaps it is the familial look itself that makes it difficult to read this picture which will not reveal any identifiable truth” (1997, p. 104) so I have deliberately sought to utilise images within the archive that have been dismissed as ‘bad’ and those that are less indexical to the romanticised and idealised moments they were supposed to represent. As a link to how the photograph supports building memories, many have a ‘twin check’ label attached or ingrained into the image, which was intended to aid the ‘memory’ of the person processing it. This is to explore different ‘truths’ and highlight the way that family narrative can be unreliable as a basis to construct an individual history. The work is effectively a personal story but one that has elements of universality, exploring the way that we all construct truth and present romanticised versions of oneself.

Bibliography

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