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.
In thinking about how to apply ideas of memory into my project I was thinking about ways of extending the twin-check label idea. I was then considering the way that we record and make copies as I have been creating copies of negatives from my family archive (Fig: 1 & 2).
Figure 1: Unknown/Phil Hill (1970s) Scanned page from family archive with ‘Manual Intervention’ images
Figure 2: Phil Hill (February, 2021) Re-discovered image from negatives showing person cut from album image. Re-photographed onto black and white film.
Listening to Sara Davidmann’s guest lecture (2016), I was struck by the mention of how Davidmann’s mother used carbon copy paper to make and keep a copy of correspondence, which is something that I distinctly remember my grandmother doing. I have also got a great deal of items within the archive from my parents wedding that include things like receipts and invoices that have used the carbon copy method of creating a copy of the original text. It feels very indexical to create a copy of something this way, much like photography does. To experiment with this, I wanted to see of it was possible to use the carbon copy paper photographically and create a unique photographic object using it.
Figure 3: Phil Hill (February, 2021) Scanned image of St Christopher Necklace
Figure 4: Phil Hill (March, 2021) Scanned image of Rubbing using Carbon Copy paper
For the most part, what I was able to create was a form of rubbing drawing over an object, such as the St Christopher necklace (Fig: 3 & 4). Although this is not photographic yet, I did think that it yielded some interesting results in the sense of the trace left by an object. I did try to do this with a negative as there are subtle differences in the relief of the surface of a negative between the way that shadow and highlights translate into the emulsion however, not nearly enough to make an impression on the page (Fig: 5) That said, I also enjoy the idea of an image being present at the time of this rubbing, even if you cannot see it in the carbon. In a sense, playing with the Barthes idea of the not being able to deny that the thing had been there (1981, p. 76). There was an image on the negative – just not one that is able to be resolved by the carbon paper. The reality of the carbon versus the photographic image are two distinct objects that diverge in the reading of them through the qualities of the medium. Perhaps to add intrigue to the carbon rubbing, I could play around with the text that accompanies it. Then, the image that cannot be seen on the negative could be whatever I wanted it to be.
Figure 5: Phil Hill (March, 2021) Various rubbings over black and white negative
The rubbings, although interesting, are clearly not photographic unless scanned or photographed themselves. This then creates a photograph of an object over the use of the carbon within the photographic practice. To further explore methods of adding carbon to the process, I attempted to apply the rubbing directly onto photographic material (Fig: 6), knowing that through chemigram processes, there is the possibility of an image being resolved under the parts of the image that developer and fix are unable to get to. I didn’t have access to paper, so I used film stock instead. Unfortunately, this didn’t create a result as the carbon washed off the print before it had a chance to create an impact. Now that I have access to a darkroom, I may attempt this process again with photo paper instead of film as the slower processing time will provide much more control over the outcome.
Figure 6: Phil Hill (March, 2021) Rubbing onto sheet of 5×4 black and white film.
Interestingly, there is a long established printing process called carbon transfer (Fig: 6), that I could eventually resort to. Although, this would effectively produce images that would not directly show the medium, it might be useful to reference the idea through this form of printing. That said, at the moment this is a very small idea within a larger whole and I must be careful not to find myself in some kind of dead end – potentially the printing process might lend itself to some additional subtle referencing.
Figure 8: Phil Hill (March, 2021) Colour positive scan of carbonb copy sheet
Figure 9: Phil Hill (March, 2021) Black and White negative scan of carbon copy paper.
One interesting development from this experimentation however, was the impression the rubbing left on the sheet of carbon copy paper (Fig: 8). I attempted to scan this and the result was heavily banded, possibly as a result of the scanner software trying to resolve the heavy black tones over a large area. However, I quite like the merging of qualities of each process – creating a slightly more photographic result (Fig: 9).
Twin-Check
Figure 10: Phil Hill (March, 2021) Twin-Check Label Experiment
Figure 11: Lee Russell (1937) Untitled photo, possibly related to: Mr. Tronson, farmer near Wheelock, North Dakota
Another small experiment was to use the twin-check label in some way and apply the sticker before I made any photographs. My aim here was to see how the sticker would impact the emulsion, and if I could create an ingrained double exposure as in my family archive (Fig: 10). The results were varied, with some interesting outcomes from the images I made. Mostly, they created a rectangle image, where the light was unable to penetrate the sticker surface, reminding me of the Roy Striker ‘killed’ images from the FSA archive (Fig: 11). This however could feed into the idea of state control, narrative, censorship, and the idea of absent memories that I have been exploring in my work.
It was noted by Ross in the portfolio reviews that as I have switched back to shooting colour, there is a certain ambiguity in the work in determining images from my archive and those made by me. This confusion could be useful in creating the mystery alluded to through the feedback from Hanah-Katrina Jedroz. There is potential to carry the Twin Check idea into the images that I am shooting somehow as a reference to everyday vernacular processes of photography.
Bibliography
Barthes, R., 1981. Camera Lucida. 2nd ed. s.l.:Vintage Classics.
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.
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).
