Contextual Research

Communities and Communication Prep

| Phil Hill

I have spent the past week preparing to discuss my work at the Staffordshire University ‘Community and Communication conference.’ At the end of the last module, I submitted an abstract (Fig: 1) relating to my last wipp, which is based in the local community that I live now. As I have evolved the project and I am no longer looking directly at my local community for the FMP , it kind of felt like I was reverse engineering the presentation and going back to work that I have moved away from. Since completing the presentation and paper I am delivering however, I have found it valuable in the way that I am now able to articulate ideas and also it has identified a number of points of research, which really feed into my current work. As I see it, the project is partly a departure from this idea of exploring community through local spaces and the people that I share it with: Ideas of Barthes’ idiorhythmic separation of sharing spaces but living independent lives and Graham Harmon’s Object Orientated Ontology to reconsider objects and their agency independently from an anthropocentric view point.

Communities and Communication
Figure 1: Phil Hill (December, 2020) Communities ad Communication research and draft conference abstract.

These are ideas that have heavily influenced my work over the last few modules and are present in my fmp project. Ultimately, that should be the goal of my practice – to construct work positioned in these areas. This should evolve as my practice evolves, which I feel is demonstrated in the way that I have moved past the idea of connection to my adopted town of Watford and into the project about my personal connections and family.

This presentation has also given me the opportunity to scrutinise some of the ideas that I have been putting forward. For example, nostalgia and the way that we consider a past being somehow better. It was important to discuss why this is, which has led to looking at the Derrida concept of ‘Hauntology’ (2006: 10) in how we are effectively haunted by objects and views of the past and represent this through photography.

I was also forwarded some really useful texts from my peers, which have a great deal of relevance to both this presentation and the way that my project has evolved now. Karen Cross and Julia Peck’s editorial on photography, archive and memory (2010: 127-138), which notes a number of areas that will be worth investigating moving forward. For example, “The archive is opened to the threat of memory: the memory of its exclusions” (p. 129), creates a link to the way that Barthes’ discusses how communities seek to exclude those that do not fit with the community ideal. It is important to consider what is not included in the archive – in this case what is not within my family albums, or cut from them. Cross and Peck also pick up on a number of other text that I have been using in my research and specifically reference Marianne Hirsch’s idea of ‘Post-Memory’ and also personal and collective memory (p. 133). This serves to consolidate those ideas and I fully intend to unpack this further and feed it into my current work.

Presenting to the conference (I hope) will be incredibly valuable in my development of research and academia, feeding back into my own teaching practice. One of my aspirations from this MA was to submit and deliver research at a conference. Putting together this discussion and presentation will also be really valuable in positioning my current work in the wider context of the concepts and ideas that I have been developing throughout the MA, which will be useful when I come to write my Critical Review of Practice.

Bibliography

Cross, K. & Peck, J., 2010. Editorial: Special Issue on Photography, Archive. Photographies, September, 3(2), pp. 127-138.

Derrida, J., 2006. Spectres of Marx. New York: Routledge Classics.

Tönnies, F., 2001. Community and Civil Society. Translation ed. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Festival entries

| Phil Hill
Belfast, Helsinki, Copenhagen
Figure 1: Belfast Photo Festival (2021) Open Submission call
Figure 2: Helsinki Photo Festival (2021) ‘Fearless’ themed submission
Figure 3: Copenhagen Photo Festival (2021) ‘The Censored Exhibition’ themed submission.

I made an entry into exhibiting my work at the next Belfast Photo. This was an early stage of the project and I was keen to consider the idea and create a statement of my submission to frame it as a starting point. The work is evolving, as expected, as I work through the archive and also start to react and respond to the images. Since this submission, I have also made submissions to two further photography festivals – Helsinki Photo, and Copenhagen Photo.

All three festivals have a different theme in order to develop each iteration of the work. I did question whether I should be submitting work to these festivals at a stage in the project where I am still experimenting and working through the materials and each of the submissions I have made is a variation and changed project from the last. However, the core of my concept being the unreliable narrator, I quite enjoy the idea of potentially being selected for more than one of these festivals and having the same project in different iterations exhibited at the same time, which really feeds the unreliable nature of the work. Of course, that is quite the long shot but it does create an opportunity to think more about the idea of iteration and how my outcome, if producing more than one, could be different and unique to the others in order to undermine the experience of each person reading it. I imagine, that if it were possible to produce a book that contained a number of wholly unique elements that two persons coming together to talk about the work might bring completely different readings of the work.

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.