Time in
photography isn’t measured purely in days, months or years; it’s about
capturing a fleeting moment that occurs in a split-second or less.
Increments of time are impossible or difficult
to perceive by the eye but not to digital memory or light sensitive film. The
difference between a second, fifteenth or hundredth of a second alters what
stands before the camera. The split second click of a shutter speed grabs,
organises, identifies and interprets information in order for us to represent
and understand what we have in front of our eyes. It evokes a more meaningful
visual experience.
Photographer
Joseph Rodriguez said “as a kid I was always told to shut up, you know be quiet
and speak when spoken to. I could never get my voice out. Photography is my
voice”. (Light: 142)
How do we
use photography as a voice? We can do this through photojournalism and
documentary photography. Both are identical mediums, sending out different
messages.
Documentary
photographers reveal the infinite number of situations, actions and results
over a period of time. In short, they reveal life. Life is not a moment; it
isn’t a single situation, since one situation is followed by another and
another. Which one is life? Photojournalism in its instant shot and
transmission – doesn’t show “life”. It neither has the time to understand it
nor the space to display its complexity. The pictures we see in magazines and
newspapers show static moments taken out of context and exhibited in a way the
media sees fit, then sold as truth. For the photojournalist time is of the
essence and a deadline looms. We as viewers are often left with a biased
opinion, abandoned to make up their minds based on incomplete evidence.
Violence and
tragedy are staples of photojournalism, “If it bleeds, it leads” is a popular,
unspoken sentiment widely used. We as viewers are attracted and intrigued by
such stories; and photojournalist’s who win international prizes and
competitions are almost always witness to such tragedies that get published.
How many of us sit in front of our televisions not wanting to watch such
abhorrent, inhumane sights, but doing so through gaps in our fingers?
Photojournalism has shifted from being used as a clear focus on social,
political and personal lives to pulling in a new generation of people whose
fascination is with bloody body bags, violent crime and an obsession with
peering into the life of normal people suffering from loss of a loved one. It’s
raw, and you can almost wipe the tear off the persons face. We are dehumanised.

This image
changed the lives of both the photographer and the victim and also created a
stir about where a photographer’s duty finishes, behind or beyond the camera. Ut
was accused of exploiting the child in the photograph but although the image
did not erase the damage nor end the war, he saved the life of the girl he had
photographed. Why take the photograph instead of just helping her? We question and
we judge. Images like these taken in the 1970s brought to people the suffering
and horrors of war that only those serving in the army usually got to
experience.
With the 21st
Century bringing with it an era of digital photography e.g. YouTube, Flickr,
and numerous other websites (not to mention camera phones); hundreds of new
images are being released every week, and it has become the norm to open the
newspaper and see devastation taken on a phone or with a cheap happy snappy
camera.
Although
there is good in photography, are we allowing photography to support heinous
crimes and acts of suffering? Are we photographing victims?
“Today
everything exists to end in a photograph”. – Sontag (1977 P24) American writer
and film maker and political activist.
No comments:
Post a Comment