Part 1
What I want, in short, is that my (mobile) image, buffeted among a thousand shifting photographs, altering with situation and age, should always coincide with my (profound) “self”; but it is the contrary that must be said: “myself” never coincides with my image; for it is the image which is heavy, motionless, stubborn (which is why society sustains it), and “myself” which is light, divided, dispersed; like a bottle-imp, “myself” doesn’t hold still, giggling in my jar: if only Photography could give me a neutral, anatomic body, a body which signifies nothing! – Chapter 5, Page 12
I found this excerpt interesting because while it unnecessarily complicates the process of taking a picture of oneself, it helps make sense of the thought processes involved that we take for granted. My interpretation of the text is that Barthes believes a photograph should always accurately portray the true, inherent qualities of the subject, but this never happens because the subject puts up a facade. The general idea, then, makes a lot of sense. Typically when we take pictures of ourselves, we intend to share it with people we know. This necessitates that we portray ourselves in a certain way (whether it be accurate or inaccurate), depending on what kind of reaction we want to receive. It’s interesting to note how different this is from the principal purpose of photography: to capture an exact representation of a particular moment.
Part 2
The effect it produces upon me is not to restore what has been abolished (by time, by distance) but to attest that what I see has indeed existed. Now, this is a strictly scandalous effect. Always the Photograph astonishes me, with an astonishment which endures and renews itself, inexhaustibly. Perhaps this astonishment, this persistence reaches down into the religious substance out of which I am molded; nothing for it: Photography has something to do with resurrection: might we not say of it what the Byzantines said of the image of Christ which impregnated St. Veronika’s napkin: that it was not made by the hand of man, acheiropoietos? – Chapter 35, Page 82
The idea of photography somewhat being a vehicle of resurrection is interesting, but I feel it would be more accurate to call it a lens on the past (provided, of course, the photographer did not intentionally manipulate the details of the photo to spark a specific reaction). “Resurrection” implies that a photo is bringing a moment back to life, and while it does this to some extent, we cannot relive a moment just by looking at a photo. The only way a photo could enable us to relive a moment is if we were present at the time the photo was taken. It could then act as a catalyst for a chain reaction of memories associated with that moment. Otherwise, if we know nothing about a particular photo other than what we see, it is more like a lens — a snapshot of an event that only gives us partial information of the bigger picture.
Question
What distinguishes photography from other representations of art, like paintings (it seems that Barthes’ reflections on photography can easily be applied to non-photographic art)?
Image
Vasily Vereshchagin, A Resting Place of Prisoners, 1878-79
Hey James,
For part one, I actually chose the same chapter to write about. I like that this excerpt makes you think more about the actual process of taking a photo of yourself. I believe that you analyzed Barthes’ views correctly, because like you said, we put up a facade when a picture is taken of us, so the picture doesn’t reflect us entirely, just a certain part of our image that we present to others. You’re right that this differs from the true purpose of photography. So next time you take a selfie, remember what Barthes said, lol. For part two, I like how you state your personal opinion and somewhat disagree with Barthes. I found your point on the “resurrection” of a photograph really fascinating, especially the part about “a catalyst for a chain reaction of memories associated with that moment.” You definitely convinced me that a photograph we don’t know the context of is more like a lens. I found your question really interesting, but I would argue that the biggest difference is the fact that a photograph was captured in a single moment and could not have been changed. Nice photograph by the way, I remember that painting from our walk around the Brooklyn Museum. Excellent job James!
Hey James, I really enjoyed reading your post. I liked that you synthesized the two commentaries. Both of your ideas have to do with the photographs persona. Although you say that a photograph should ideally be the exact portrayal of the moment the picture was taken, you include Barthe’s quote that a portrait always tells a lot more than just the person itself. The desire to remove the studium from the portrait is there, but as you explained, not possible. Also, I find your question very profound. I think that a painting can use similar reflections to the ones Barthes used for photography. Although at first I thought that the reflections had to be different because the photographer has less choice about what to include. However, after reading some of Bresson’s work, I learned how much control the photographer really has in choreographing the perfect shot. Overall your post was very thought engaging and I enjoyed reading it. Well done!
I definitely agree with your interpretation of the text in Part 1. When we post on social media, we anticipate a certain reaction such as a certain number of likes or a certain number of comments. This makes us want to look our best in pictures and does not capture an exact representation. Your ideas can be related to mine and Hongying’s post because our views agree with yours. Hongying also discusses a similar idea to what you discuss in Part Two where living in the moment is the best way to enjoy reality. Photographs evoke memories, but not emotions. I also really like your question; it is very thought-provoking and could produce a great discussion. Good job with the analysis!