What has become of us all?

[fdonadio]

Damn… you guys can turn a discussion of “what has become of us” — in the sense that most of us *humans* have lost respect for each other’s space and rights, in a specific photographic context — into “what is art”, then into “is history valid?”…

Holy moly… what’s next?

 

[skahde]

Before this discussion ends like a wafe seeping away into the sand on the beach, let's go back to the beginning and put some fresh gas into the fire

To me the hunt of the tourist to recreate that perfect shot (and yes, I am guilty on my own charge) is nothing but creating kitsch in the oldest meaning of the word:
"As a descriptive term, kitsch originated in the art markets of Munich, Germany in the 1860s and the 1870s, describing cheap, popular, and marketable pictures and sketches.[6]"

It is not creating something unexpected or visually or emotionally challenging, but a picture the public already knows in a way you already expect this very matter to be shown and to cause emotion that is already part of the public mind. And there is nothing wrong about that, it's done all the time and I'm guilty on my own charge... numerous times. The problem is and the movie is showing this nicely, that the desire to recreate the cliche from reality en masse, destroys its reality and only the cliche remains.

Now, do your worst.

 

[koraks]

Of course it's about kitsch. So what? Plenty of people like kitsch. Your observation brings us back to that other photographic truism about creativity: the question is not whether it's been done before, but whether it's been done before by you. If not, then there's your license to play - insofar as you need one to begin with. After all, we're still fairly free in deciding what we want to photograph. Even if it's been done before, you have done it before, nothing stops you from doing it a thousand times over again. "If it makes you happy", and all that.

 

[Don_ih]

Copying is a special activity all on its own. "This isn't an Ansel Adams photo - it's a Ansel Adams-ish photo made by me" -- people like to do that sort of thing, they like the result.

But none of that is what that video was about. That video was about swarms of people flooding places to get their mark for their own experience. They want something to show that they've been there or done something. It's not kitch at all - it's proof or a record for memory. They're not interested in photography. They're not interested in copying an image. They're interested in copying an experience and having something to point at and say, "Look at what I did!" or "Look where I was!"

 

[loccdor]

If that's the definition of kitsch, then is every picture of the moon kitsch? And what if I find a picture of the moon emotionally satisfying? Isn't part of the power of the moon that it has been seen and thought about by just about every human that ever lived?

Since you don't need to be in a particular place to view the moon, it avoids the crowds of competing photographers phenomenon.

Is the Nashville Parthenon kitsch? Here they've tried to replicate one of the wonders of the world, and they've made it more like its original self than the battle-ravaged and weather-ruined authentic one. Although each of them draw crowds, the presence of two of them certainly lessens the crowds at least slightly.

Regarding selfies in the film era, what would have happened if more consumer cameras from then were designed with a 28mm wide angle and a minimum focus distance that roughly corresponded to the average focus distance in the selfie position? Perhaps the only thing that held back the selfie for so long was the inconvenience of the tripod.

 

[skahde]

Personally speaking recreating doesn't make me happy. But others around me like it and I like to make them happy while my artistic self hates me for that. Too often do I feel stuck and locked into a corner between recreation and visual boredome. The occasions where I managed to break out of that prison-cell are the pictures I cherish the most.

 

[koraks]

is every picture of the moon kitsch?

You're confusing the object and the photograph. I'm mentioning it because it happens all the time esp. among amateur photographers and I think it's a fascinating, although sometimes also perplexing and somewhat depressing phenomenon. Sure, most photographs that are made are about the 'thing' in the picture as the intent is to document and to share. But any photography that has an artistic ambition, inherently strives to create something new, in which the nature of the pictured object is pushed into the background and the center stage is occupied by the newly made object (i.e. the photograph). The question of the original 'thing' becomes less relevant, or sometimes (esp. in abstract photography) downright irrelevant. And that's where I find it gets a little depressing - show the average amateur photographer an abstract photograph, and they'll keep fretting over the question what the object is. It doesn't matter! It's hard to get past that, but it's a hard condition for understanding and appreciating (which is not the same as admiring!) the photograph as such.

Back to the touristy, kitschy snapshot: it's not about the moon - or let's say a more recognizable tourist attraction: the Eiffel Tower. It's about that particular view of the Eiffel Tower seen from the Trocadéro. It's not about the chunk of steel pointing upwards through the image frame. It's about the notion of having stood in that place, associating ourselves with that place and having become part of it, even though briefly. It's ultimately about fitting in with the rest of the crowd. There's safety in numbers.

 

[skahde]

If that's the definition of kitsch, then is every picture of the moon kitsch?

Context certainly comes into play here:

https://stock.adobe.com/de/search?k=wolf+howling+at+the+moon

 

[Don_ih]

Regarding selfies in the film era

Selfies are a product of being able to see the photo immediately - particularly while it is being taken (allows you to perfect your pose). I have a little 110 camera somewhere that has a mirror on the front and a carrying chain that tells you how far to hold the camera from your face. Not exactly the same as looking at your iphone. But that's what it was for. I'm sure some people used the feature of that little 110 camera. But almost nobody owned one of those. Everyone now has a phone that's capable of selfies. It's become a method of communication more than anything.

 

[loccdor]

Context certainly comes into play here:

https://stock.adobe.com/de/search?k=wolf+howling+at+the+moon

And then you get ironic humor coming into play, because people start embracing this kitsch specifically because they think it's funny to do so. Wearing a shirt with this howling wolf on it not because they think it's great art. And in seeing it as an object of humor, they start to create something new. Is that breaking the cycle of kitsch?

 

[koraks]

Is that breaking the cycle of kitsch?

Very, very briefly.

 

[loccdor]

The question of the original 'thing' becomes less relevant, or sometimes (esp. in abstract photography) downright irrelevant. And that's where I find it gets a little depressing - show the average amateur photographer an abstract photograph, and they'll keep fretting over the question what the object is. It doesn't matter! It's hard to get past that, but it's a hard condition for understanding and appreciating (which is not the same as admiring!) the photograph as such.

I think the ability to appreciate an abstract photograph or not is less about whether the person has any artistic taste or higher brain function at all and more akin to how some people like classical music and others prefer jazz and others pop. I can appreciate all three - though sometimes I might spend months or years in the mood to only want to listen to one of them before switching. My grandmother only ever really liked classical, opera even after being exposed to contemporary music for decades.

 

[koraks]

I understand what you're saying, but the perplexing thing for me is that among people who actually enjoy (or say they enjoy) an abstract photograph, the majority still keeps fussing over "what is it". It's as if they cannot disconnect this appreciation from the ontological question. That I find odd. It's not about taste. It may be about 'higher brain function' in the sense of being able to abstract from the photographed reality and understand the newly created reality for its own sake - although calling that a 'higher' brain function doesn't sound right to me. It's a particular way of viewing something and I don't think it fits in a hierarchy of desirability or anything like that.

A related phenomenon, equally common among amateur photographers, is to fuss over technicalities as they appreciate a work of art. "What camera was it made with", "how was this film developed" etc. To me, that seems like a fundamental confusion that has worked its way into the appreciation of the work as such. We all know that picking up a Leica doesn't give anyone the ability to nail the decisive moment in a compelling, somehow naturally balanced composition. And yet, we keep asking the same question over and over again, but questions that are at least as relevant but have no immediate technical dimension (was the photographer more of an introverted or an extroverted character, did they grow up in the city or on the countryside, were they educated as a painter or a sculptor, etc.) are addressed only passingly at best - and usually not at all.

Regardless whether you prefer jazz, pop or baroque - does it matter whether the cassette tape you first heard a certain melody on was TDK or Sony brand? Or, for that matter, whether it was FM radio, a record or a CD?

It's not about taste or brain function; it's about a very weird type of consistent confusion that permeates a lot of discussion about art (or crafts, or 'enjoyable stuff' or whathaveyou). As a species, we have an interesting way of totally missing the point much of the time.

 

[Don_ih]

common among amateur photographers, is to fuss over technicalities as they appreciate a work of art.

Discussion of the work itself typically doesn't go much past "Cool" or "I like it." So there's a thumbs-up feature for that. It's difficult to speak meaningfully about a visual art work - even more difficult to not conflate talking about the photo with talking about what it's a photo of. A photo that has a particular make of car in it will get people talking about that car. Conversation has to be about something. The photo sits as a visual experience, not really inspiring a translation into verbal communication that dwells solely on its visual character. And here we have photos of photos, often. Lower-quality representations of prints and more detailed digital photos that leave the viewer incapable of assessing the finer qualities of the actual thing. So we can talk about composition, which leads into a lot of querulous discussion of themes and styles and "rules" the photo does or does not follow.

It's easier to ask what lens was used.

 

[loccdor]

Regardless whether you prefer jazz, pop or baroque - does it matter whether the cassette tape you first heard a certain melody on was TDK or Sony brand? Or, for that matter, whether it was FM radio, a record or a CD?

I get what you mean and this is an aside, but speaking from a psychological standpoint, it might actually be of high importance, if the memory was very early in your life and pivotal with the first time you connected to music in a meaningful way.

For example, I've tried to analyze why I like the look of film so much, and I think a lot of it comes down to how much I saw of it as a child. At school they'd take us to the library and project film reels from the 60s and 70s. Every picture I saw in a magazine was on film and using the techniques that worked with film.

The brain has an odd way of hanging on to things that originally formed its base.

Back to your point. Consider the sculptures in St. Peter's Basilica. You can be blown away by the artistry, which comes from the artist knowing the human form, being able to communicate intense, meaningful emotion through it. Or you can appreciate the material used, the way that the marble some seems soft and glowing and human even though it's a stone. I did both simultaneously and the experience was unforgettable to me - which I did not expect. "What is it": A) it's beautiful marble. B) it's condensed human experience. C) it's the height of achievement in artistic technique. D) all of the above.

Discussion of the work itself typically doesn't go much past "Cool" or "I like it." So there's a thumbs-up feature for that.

Typically yes. Once in a while, something stops you and catches your breath. That can be someone else's work or the photo you yourself are about to take appearing in your viewfinder. "Cool" or "I like it" would seem comically, disrespectfully, irreverently insufficient for those rare moments.

And something has to be said for the realm of words and the realm of pictures occupying a different container of experience. This must be part of why description of pictures with words is often not suitable.