People from all cultures and backgrounds create and treasure pictures. Images of all kinds bombard us daily with information about the world and give us a visual language of communication. Thus, pictures are of great importance to us. However, understanding the differences between our perception of the three-dimensional world and its representation in photographs and paintings has proved a fascination for visual scientists for centuries.
We tend to think of the human view of the world as being the only one, but there are millions of other species, whose visual reality is different from ours. However, since the Industrial Revolution in the eighteenth century, humans have been able to soar above the world and gain an aerial view, first in hot-air balloons, then in aeroplanes, and then from way out in space. And in 1814, the introduction of gas-lighting allowed humans to see the outside world by night. Then came the camera and yet another way of seeing the world was added to the list. People laughed at Eadweard Muybridge’s description of how a horse’s legs moved at the gallop, until he was able to prove it by capturing the action on film. And now there are cameras which can accompany birds in flight, freeze moments which are invisible to the naked eye (see Photo 1), and which can take pictures of the human body from the inside.
Not only does a photographer make a choice from behind the camera, but photographs can be manipulated beyond recognition in the darkroom by multiple printing, cropping, zooming in, changing the colours and using hundreds of different papers, filters, screens and complicated techniques. (See Photo 2)
[Photo 1 (Press International, Feininger, 1974: p138)]
[Photo 2 (Jerry Uelsmann, Langford, 1986: p228)]
A photographer can also impose a particular view of reality by deciding which negatives to discard and which to keep. Brett Weston shocked the photographic world on his eightieth birthday by destroying all but twelve of his negatives. The reason he gave was that "he felt that he alone was capable of making the kind of print needed to express his vision fully" (Times, 1993, p19). This extreme action illustrates how personal and prescribed a photographer’s view of reality can be.
In order to make sense of the chaotic jumble of stimuli with which it is endlessly bombarded, the brain selects, organises, constructs and interprets, and these processes are affected by many factors.
No two people perceive the same things when looking at a scene. Each person has a unique perceptual set, which is the result of experiences, background, personality, gender, psychological make-up, knowledge, interests, intentions and expectations. Also, each person’s perception changes from place to place and from time to time. What a photographer perceives and decides to capture on film is always dependent on these factors.
Also, the use for the which the resultant image is intended colours the choices that a photographer makes from behind the camera or, later, in the darkroom. Far from ‘not lying’, the camera can indeed be used to deceive and mislead.
Firstly, though, it is necessary to look at some of the ways in which the brain, by the use of certain visual cues, selects from and organises the data it receives via the retina and the optic nerve, and how a photographer conversant with these cues can achieve the results required.
The eye is often described as being like a camera and, as far as the mechanics go, it works in a similar way, but it is the uncamera-like process of perception - that carried out by the brain after it has received the retinal information - which is most baffling. There are several well-known illusions which disprove this passive ‘inner-screen’ theory of perception. When confronted with ambiguous, confusing or incomplete data, the brain has to make sense of it - our survival may depend on it. Also, the amount of sensory data bombarding us every day is overwhelming and it is not possible for the brain to process all of it.
One well-known illusion which shows how the brain organises and constructs from data which is confusing is Fraser’s Spiral (see below).
[Illustration]
The fact is that there is no spiral at all, only concentric circles, but the illusion is so powerful that, even when tracing the circles with a finger, it is difficult not to trace a spiral. The brain finds it easier to organise the elements into a spiral and leads us to believe that this is what we are looking at. A process which ‘sees’ circles and ‘perceives’ a spiral cannot be purely photographic or passive. A photographer can make use of this tendency of the brain to organise (See Photo 3).
[Photo 3 (H E Edgerton, Gernsheim, 1986: p73)]
The brain also has a tendency to ‘close’ by actively providing elements which are missing, in order to make a complete whole. In the following photograph by Henri Cartier-Bresson, for example, it is the shape made by the man’s legs and the reflection of those legs which draws the eye, because it almost forms a recognisable pentagon. Our brains provide the rest to make the complete figure (See Photo 4). Perhaps that is why this is such a successful image.
As Richard Zakia says: "Man derives satisfaction from being able to form a closure that allows him to become an active participant in the visual experience" (Zakia, 1975: p77).
[Photo 4 (H Cartier-Bresson, Clarke, 1997: p209)]
On the other hand, a photographer can create tension by forcing the viewer to work harder. The brain tends to group similar items together in order to make sense of objects. The following famous photograph by Diane Arbus, who spoke of "the endlessly seductive puzzle of sight" (Clarke, 1997: p28), is considered disturbing, perhaps because we are being asked to look at similarities, but, the closer we look, the more the differences become apparent (See Photo 5).
[Photo 5 (Diane Arbus, Clarke, 1997: p28)]
In the 1960s, the psychologist, J J Gibson, described several visual cues which the brain uses in order to make three-dimensional sense of two-dimensional representations, and a skilful photographer will be aware of these and will know how to use them.
One such cue is linear perspective, and it is lucky for photographers that knowledge of perspective was formulated as long ago as the Renaissance, otherwise photographs would have been ridiculed when first seen. The camera ‘sees’ objects exactly as they are, whereas our brains ‘correct’. For example, when we look up at tall buildings, we are not aware of how much they appear to lean backwards as they taper towards the sky; the brain uses its knowledge of buildings to allow us to perceive them as straight and ‘normal’. This is known as ‘constancy’ - we have knowledge of the size and shape of objects and people stored away and the brain allows us to perceive them as relatively static. Otherwise the world would seem even more confusing than it already is, as objects constantly changed shape and size according to the angles at which we were looking at them and the distance we were from them. The camera makes no such adjustments and, therefore, photographs of skyscrapers taken by those new to photography can give quite a shock when they are received back from the chemist’s. A knowledgeable photographer, on the other hand, can use special lenses in order to create a reality which does not exist (See Photo 6).
Contrasts of light and shadow, the use of foreshortening, the overlapping of objects, diminution in size with distance, the use of diagonals and converging lines, are all further visual cues to depth that photographers can use, sometimes to amusing and surreal effect. The photograph by Zeke Berman (See Photo 7) works because of the use of the visual puns he has included.
[Photo 6 (Feininger, 1974: p76)]
[Photo 7 (Zeke Berman, Clarke, 1997: p182)]
The photographer can also change the focal length of the lens he or she uses and thus can bring distant objects forward or push nearer objects further away. For example, wide angle lenses can be used to obtain very surreal effects, such as in this picture by Bill Brandt (See Photo 8).
[Photo 8 (Bill Brandt, Hill, 1982: p107)]
Texture gradient is another cue to depth - the nearer an object is to the lens, the more texture it displays. Photographers with faultless technique, such as Ansel Adams, and members of the ‘f64’ group, who believed that superlative technique is as essential as imaginative vision, could use texture to create stunning, almost abstract photographs of everyday objects (See Photo 9).
[Photo 9 (Ansel Adams, Gernsheim, 1986: p99)]
Of course, light and shadow are the photographer’s most important tools. Research on the brain has shown that the right hemisphere is specialised for deriving meaning from patterns of shadows. It does not seem to matter that pieces of information are missing - the brain still manages to construct a ‘whole’. People who have sustained damage to the right hemisphere of the brain often have difficulty in making sense of shadow patterns (Edwards, 1989: Ch10). Shadows can be skilfully used to create quite surreal images. In the following photograph, the fall of the shadows is what creates the whole point of the image (See Photo 10).
[Photo 10 (Paul Hill, Arts Council of Great Britain, 1979: p11)]
As well as constructing our world via the visual cues we are given, what we perceive around us is determined by our beliefs, our cultural differences, our gender, age and experiences, our personality, our motivations and expectations. In other words, we constantly relate ourselves to the world, both physically and spiritually.
Different cultures vary not only in their ability to understand two-dimensional images, but in their outlooks on life itself, which colour how they make choices when taking photographs. For example, in China, there are no ‘candid’ shots, not even of family and friends, such as are seen so often in the west. As Susan Sontag states, they have no interest in capturing movement. People are rigidly positioned in front of the camera and only very stereotyped subjects are considered suitable. (Sontag, 1979: p171)
This could stem from old traditions, still common in eastern and middle-eastern cultures, concerning the ‘stealing’ of a little of a person’s soul by the taking of a photograph. Or it could be that pictures in China are meant only to show the positive and inspirational. Close-ups and photographs taken from anything other than the stereotypical viewpoint are frowned upon.
In the west, the snapshot has taken the place of memory - it is almost impossible nowadays to take part in any family event or to travel without taking photographs. The photographer in these cases uses the camera to freeze a moment in his or her life - knowing how the moment fitted into that life as a whole, they have the complete memory to draw on when viewing these photographs later. For others, who were not there, this kind of photograph is devoid of meaning. As Rudolph Arnheim says, "complexity without order produces confusion; order without complexity produces boredom" (Zakia, 1975: p82). Perhaps this is why there is nothing quite so boring as other people’s holiday or family snapshots (See Photo 11).
The Japanese seem to use the camera solely to prove that they were ‘there’ - with such a strong work ethic, it may be that they need to justify the fact that they are on holiday. It is common to see a coachload of Japanese tourists pile off, take their photographs in front of some famous building, and immediately get back on to the coach again, without having really seen anything.
[Photo 11 (Hill, 1982: p58)]
Unlike the camera, which records everything placed in front of it, the brain selects what it considers to be important at the time. The American philosopher and psychologist, William James, said: "My experience is what I agree to attend to. Only those items which I notice shape my mind - without selective interest, experience is an utter chaos." (Tubbs & Moss, 1994: p33)
This, however, can have unfortunate and humorous consequences when an amateur photographer is behind the camera (See Photo 12).
[Photo 12 (Zakia, 1975: p85)]
This demonstrates what can happen as the brain perceives only what is important - the child - and ignores everything else. Unfortunately, the camera sees everything and records it in great detail. A more discerning photographer, on the look-out for traps of this kind, would construct a different reality, in order to ensure that the final image did not look wrong.
And how often, on holiday, and confronted with a range of mountains which overwhelms with its perceived magnificence, does an amateur photographer end up with a puny row of hills in the distance in the final image? This is because the photographer’s emotions have taken over and the subject has assumed more importance, and therefore greater size, in the brain than it actually has. This phenomenon is very frequently observed in snapshots of loved ones, taken from far too far away. Again, photographers must be aware of such traps and must adjust reality in order to create an acceptable image.
Psychological make-up and sexual preferences can also make a difference to the way in which photographers construct their view of the world. Diane Arbus, for example (whose photograph of ‘Twins’ was mentioned earlier) was drawn to freaks and other human oddities. As Graham Clarke says: "Collectively, her photographs suggest an overwhelming sense of angst and loneliness." (Clarke, 1997: p28) And, as she committed suicide, it would seem that she found her view of the world too much to bear.
And Robert Mapplethorpe, the greater part of whose short life was steeped in the world of sado-masochism and other sexual depravities, even managed to imbue his stunning flower photographs with erotic undertones (See Photo 13).
[Photo 13 (Robert Mapplethorpe, 1982: p73)]
From the point of view of the photographer, it is mainly the intended purpose of the photograph which is important, and, by skilful cropping, a photographer can remove a subject from its context and completely change its meaning. The importance of context and the ambiguity of non-verbal communication can be demonstrated by the following two photographs. Both are images of people exhibiting strong emotions, but, without knowing the context, it is almost impossible to tell whether both are exhibiting extreme anguish or extreme joy (See Photos 14 and 15).
[Photo 14 (Adler & Rodman, 1991: p121)]
[Photo 15 (Don McCullin, Hill, 1982: p77)]
It is only when the whole image is shown that the differences become apparent. The first is a photograph of a couple who have just won one million dollars in the New Jersey lottery. The second is a famous image by Don McCullin showing a woman who has just lost her husband in the fighting in Cyprus in 1964.
It is easy to see how changing the context can be used for propaganda purposes, or how a photographer’s intentions can be read in a totally different way by the eventual viewer of the image. As John Berger points out in his reply to Susan Sontag’s "On Photography", the Nazis were some of the first to use the so-called ‘truthfulness’ of photography for propaganda purposes (Berger, 1980: p49).
Often, a photographer’s intentions can be subjugated by a newspaper editor, who chooses only one view of a photographed event and adds a caption which suits his or her own political motives. (See Photos 16 and 17) Both of these images were of the same demonstration, but in one the policeman is shown as a victim, and in the other, it appears that a demonstrator is being attacked.
[Photo 16 (Chris Steele-Perkins, Hill, 1982: p79)]
[Photo 17 (Chris Steele-Perkins, Hill, 1982: p78)]
‘The decisive moment’ has become a famous phrase in the world of photography. Henri Cartier-Bresson describes best how he sees it:
One milli-second later, and the ‘moment’ of his photograph Behind St Lazarre Station, Paris (see page 6) would have been lost forever.
Paul Strand had a totally different way from Cartier-Bresson of deciding when to press the shutter. He took his time and widened his view to include the narrative of the subject, that is, what had happened to the subject (whether human or inanimate) before, and what will continue to happen after the departure of the photographer. He stated that:
Consequently, his documentary portraits seem almost to contain the life story of the subject, as shown in his famous photograph of the New England farmer.
[Photo 18 (Paul Strand, Stange, 1990: p100)]
As Victor Burgin states, all Strand’s human subjects, famous or not, are imbued with the same heroic quality - a celebration of just being human (Burgin, 1994: p109).
In contrast to Paul Strand are photographers like Alfred Stieglitz and Minor White. Stieglitz’s Equivalents were a series of cloud photographs which omitted any sense of narrative and were intended to arouse a feeling and to act as metaphors for music. This was similar to the artist Wassily Kandinsky’s experiments with synaesthesia, in which he ‘saw’ colours when hearing sounds. The photographer, Minor White, explained Equivalents as "a series of forms that, when photographed, would yield an image with specific suggestive powers that can direct the viewer into a specific and known feeling, state or place within himself" (Burgin, 1994: p101).
Other photographers have much more worldly purposes in mind, when constructing reality. Although some authors do not agree, it may be that advertisements exercise great sublimal coercion on us. If it was not true that they are immensely successful, millions of pounds would not continue to be spent on them. As Paul Hill states (1982: p119), the photographer, Victor Burgin, produces photographic prints that resemble posters, in order to reveal this subliminal manipulation by the media of which we are usually unaware. (See Photo 19) For Burgin "the photograph is a sign, or more correctly, a complex of signs, used to communicate a message".
[Photo 19 (Victor Burgin, Hill, 1982: p119)]
The business, though of ‘communicating a message’ is fraught with difficulties. For example, how does a photographer prevent a perfectly straightforward photograph being misread and imbued with bogus meaning that did not exist in the mind of the photographer? The following image by Jo Spence at first seems to have a deep, surreal message and would, very likely, be read as such by many. (See Photo 20) It is, however, a straight record shot taken for a lawyer, in order to show the position of a person who had been injured in a graveyard.
[Photo 20 (Jo Spence, 1986: p33)]
Perhaps one of the most poignant purposes for photography can be demonstrated by its increasing use as a therapeutic technique. The aforementioned Jo Spence provides a famous example. After being diagnosed with cancer, from which she eventually died, she turned her camera on herself in order to examine her own existence, to chart the course of her illness, and to exorcise the demons of her past (See Photo 21). In her book "Putting Myself in the Picture", she says: "If we could learn new ways of using our cameras we could start by telling our own stories in different ways." (Spence, 1986: p214).
[Photo 21 (Jo Spence, 1986: p168)]
Further examples of the choices photographers make in order to construct their own reality, both from behind the camera and, later, in the darkroom, are endless and are far too numerous to mention here. Suffice it to say, that there are as many different ways of perceiving the world as there are human beings, and photographs are and always have been, as Susan Sontag says "as much an interpretation of the world as paintings and drawings are".
March 1998
