Dissent Decree

Carmina, Tony and Curran convene at the Bean

Coffee at the Supreme Bean

It had been nearly 3 months since the city’s Combined Sewer Overflow project had come to the front of the Supreme Bean and for all this time pedestrian traffic was restricted to narrow paths on either side of the street. Patronage had suffered as a result and even Tony, Carmina and Curran had stopped coming. Finally they decided to meet. So on the last Thursday of August they convened for their usual coffee, pastry and conversation.

Outside the clanks, scrapes, bang and thuds of the heavy equipment, the staccato of jackhammers and the loud voices of the hard-hatted workers went on. Inside three lobbyists were ganged up on a single legislator, with each proclaiming their studied positions. In spite of these distractions Carmina, Tony and Curran got down to the serious business of catching up and speculation. Tony began.

“You know,” said Tony, “Senator Kennedy’s death has got me thinking a lot about the connection of politics and photographs. I’ve heard it said that every photograph is a political statement—a political inquiry and I believe it. I know mine are—even my snapshots.”

“But Tony, you shoot mostly nature stuff. What’s so political about photographing a spider? Curran asked.

“Well, just aiming the camera is a political act—even if you aren’t consciously ‘thinking politically’ at the time. What you choose to photograph is always a reflection of your values—and your politics. The images we make are mirrors and windows.

Just making a photograph of a spider isn’t likely to identify you as a Republican or a Democrat but it will reveal something about your relationship to the natural world. If you believe spiders are important to the ecosystem you will photograph them with a different attitude, than if you believe they are ugly and expendable. Your photographs are records of what you find meaningful—worthy of notice, preservation and examination—worthy to be shared.

I recently read a fascinating book titled, After Photography, by Fred Ritchen—which I highly recommend. Anyway, Ritchen asks, ‘Did the millions of romanticized and appropriately beautiful images of nature that serve as an image archive, on calendars, in textbooks and magazines, on the Internet and elsewhere, help us to ignore the realities of environmental destruction?’

Well, I think the answer has to be yes—and I am a card-carrying member of the North American Nature Photographers Association. So this got me thinking even more about the politics of what I do, what you do, what we all do as image-makers,” said Tony.

“So Tony, if I understand you, you are saying that even if we think of ourselves as apolitical, our politics, our values and beliefs still manifest in the photographs, paintings and design that we make—that it is impossible for anyone to be truly apolitical. Is that right?” Carmina asked.

“Yep. I am saying that every picture—is a political statement—that it can’t be otherwise, not if it is made by a human,” Tony replied.

“Well I guess that rules out objectivity in Art? Carmina replied.

“Sure does,” said Tony. “But it need not rule out truth.”

Curran was listening intently. As a graphic designer his profession had much in common with those of the lawyers, lobbyists and legislators that frequented the Bean. As a designer for hire, he was expected to champion his clients values rather than his own. He dealt in coercion, illusion, and artistic deception—it was his stock in trade. Of course Tony and Carmina did the same, all artists did, but they did it in service of their personal values and politics. They could use artistic lies to tell truths.

Still Curran wondered if in spite of his best efforts his design revealed his personal politics. He preferred the minimalist ethic—less is more. He favored Helvetica and Bodoni. He advocated for the utmost in clarity, readability and legibility—nothing sentimental or extraneous. And so he sought clients who liked this approach. Was this serving his client or his own political nature? Now he wasn’t sure and that disturbed him.

“So then, all of our work is political speech and has consequences, even if it does no more than add to the noise and confusion that is piled up on our information super highway?” Curran remarked in a tone of thoughtfulness and resignation.

“Yep,” said Tony . “Think about it Curran. You and your designer friends have helped create our super packaged, and branded world. Our lives are lived in a sea of media—mediated reality. Our views of reality are so pre-conditioned that we may already have lost the ability to distinguish the real from the virtual. We are conditioned to expect our world to look like the perfected and manufactured images we see everywhere. With every new image added to the pile our cynicism grows. We can’t trust our senses anymore. Everything is ‘mediated.’

As a photographer I question the validity of what I do. What does it mean to make an authentic and original nature photograph? Is it even possible? Is the species natural if it exists only in a zoo or on a game preserve? Is a tiger a real tiger if it is not free to roam?

Quoting Ritchen again, he says it is estimated that in 2010 nearly a half a trillion photographs will be made in just that year alone. So what’s the point of making another nature photograph? Taking millions of photographs of a threatened species means little if they disappear among the billions—the trillions of photographs being released into media? It means little if the public believes that every picture it sees has been Photoshoped—manipulated or constructed,” said Tony.

“But Tony, there is that satisfaction which comes from making a picture you believe in, a piece that is authentic and original and which reflects your personal values to the best of your abilities. There is that satisfaction and meaning which comes from sharing the work with others who know and trust you. And really Tony, none of us can ask more of ourselves as artists than that,” said Carmina.

“You are right,” Tony replied. “We are artists and artists make art. Politics will take care of itself,” he said.

“So, you all want to try this again next week? Curran asked.

“Sure,” said Carmina.

“Sure,” said Tony.

© Michael Maurer Smith 2009