urban ku # 41 - 2 types of memory and a little bit of meaning
Tuesday, March 13, 2007 at 08:01AM 
Photographs are inexorably tied to memory. After all, every photograph becomes, de facto, a trace of something past mere moments after it is created - click the shutter, glance at the LCD and, voila, instant 'memory' - a visual fragment of something from the past.
This self-evident characteristic of the photographic medium evidences itself in 2 distinctly different manners.
On the surface of things, it can flesh-out specific details in the service of voluntary memory - the conscious attempt to recall the past. In this capacity, it serves as a document that can be rich with remarkably accurate 'details and fragments' of that which one is trying to (re)call to mind. For instance, if I want to remember what my childhood house at 321 West Malloy Road looked like, nothing can illustrate the details like a photograph of the house at 321 West Malloy Road (aka, the 'referent'), circa 1950-55.
On the other hand, if I pull out a photograph of the house at 321 West Malloy Road, circa 1953-55, and start to study the details, another type of memory - involuntary memory (derived from the 'connoted')- kicks in. My mind, my heart and my soul are flooded with memories of a life lived at the house at 321 West Malloy Road. I 'see' my mom and dad, my brothers, the games, the sun, the snow and the rain of my childhood. It all comes flooding back - not with the clarity and detail found in the photograph of the house at 321 West Malloy Road, but full-bodied and rich with emotion nevertheless.
I suspect that 'involuntary memory' plays a key role in the meaning an observer of a
Roadside memory • click on photo to embiggen it photograph (in this case, functioning as a 'trigger') creates for him/herself. I suspect that if I were to show you a photograph of my house at 321 West Malloy Road, circa 1950-55, for you, it, at first glance, would be a simple document of the past - a house, circa 1950-55. But I also suspect that without too much prompting, it would trigger a flood of involuntary memories of your childhood house/home.
And, no doubt, this flood of memories would cause you to 'feel' a specific emotion(s) - happiness, sadness, loss, joy,, etc. - which you would 'attach' to the photograph as meaning, your meaning.
A meaning which certainly did not exist in the mind of the photographer.
gravitas et nugalis
Featured Comment: both Steve Durbin amd Paul Butzi took issue with the statement - 'A meaning which certainly did not exist in the mind of the photographer.' In both cases, they stated that a photograph of the house at 321 West Malloy Road would be affected by the state of mind of the photographer and that state of mind would be evident to the observer of the photograph.
To which I would add a resounding 'maybe'.
A photographer, who was aware of and very adept at using the apparatus of the medium, could indeed create a photograph that conveyed happiness, sadness, etc. But in the case of any photograph of the house at 321 West Malloy Road at my disposal (consequently, the one I would show you), the photographer was either my father or grandfather. I can state unequivocally that neither was even aware of the apparatus of the medium much less trying in any manner to imbue the photographs with any such emnotion(s). They were engaged in making documents, a record of the house for the family album.
For all I know, they were recording a new paint job on the trim, a fresh cut lawn, a new lawn ornament, new shingles on the roof, or who knows what. The fact is, I just don't know what they were thinking at the pro-filmic moment, and, if I had mentioned that phrase or anything like it to them, they would have looked at me like I had lobsters crawling out of my ears - especially since I was only 3-8 years old during the circa in question.
As a single document, I think any photograph of the house at 321 West Malloy Road is very emotion-neutral. In the greater context of the family album - me and my friends, me and my brothers, me and Ginger Dockweller, me at Notre Dame football games, me and ... (well, you get what I'm driving at) I am pretty certain that, for all but the most twisted, the house at 321 West Malloy Road would be assumed to be a happy one.
gravitas et nugalis
Featured Comment: Paul Butzi wrote (in part): "Sigh. That's not what I said ... (I (the publisher) said - In both cases, they stated that a photograph of the house at 321 West Malloy Road would be affected by the state of mind of the photographer and that state of mind would be evident to the observer of the photograph.) ... How you got from what I wrote to what you think I wrote, I haven't a clue."
publisher's response: Paul, my apologies. There was no intent to misrepresent what you wrote. My synopsis-reasoning went like this:
When you wrote that the 'vast majority of photographs like this are made with ... specific intent', I deduced that 'specific intent' indicated a 'state of mind' on the part of the photographer. And I deduced further that the photographer intended that the photograph, created with that 'state of mind', communicate the 'specific intent', which flowed from his/her 'state of mind', to the observer. To go a step further, I also deduced from the preceeding that you thought that the observer would 'get it'.
Reader Comments (13)
Such are the concerns of Barthe's 'Camera Lucida' and his distinction between the studium and the punctum.
In contrast to your post and notions of the photograph existing in the present I can offer:
http://pentimento.squarespace.com/film-blog/2007/2/6/sex-and-lucia.html
http://pentimento.squarespace.com/fiction-blog/2007/2/12/louise-welsh-the-cutting-room.html
Best, Sean.
A meaning which certainly did not exist in the mind of the photographer.
Yes. But I also suspect that if the house pictured has warm memories (or harsh, negative ones) for the photographer, then it is more likely that warm (or painful) recollections will be triggered in the viewer, or viewers who have such recollections will be more affected by the photo. Especially if the photographer is aware of this and makes the photograph with intention.
A meaning which certainly did not exist in the mind of the photographer.
I was with you right up to this statement. I suspect vast majority of photographs like this are made with the specific intent of serving as a trigger for a flood of memories that evoke emotions such as you describe.
That's what I'm doing when I take a photo of my new home (or old home, or dog, or whatever) and tuck a print in an envelope and send it to a distant friend, or relative.
"In both cases, they stated that a photograph of the house at 321 West Malloy Road would be affected by the state of mind of the photographer and that state of mind would be evident to the observer of the photograph."
This is unlikely - if not wishful thinking. If I send you a photograph could you tell me what I was thinking at the time I took the photograph? You could guess, but it would be no more than that (unless of course I included text...).
best, Sean.
Mark, Sean,
I don't think we have an argument. Note the ifs and more likelys in my comment.
Speaking of documents, you may be interested in the 1977 exhibit Evidence. You can find a related exhibit blurb here and some images here.
Posted for Steve Durbin by MH
If it is a question of degree, then to what degree does the photograph communicate the thoughts of the photographer for the viewer (or the photograph enshrine the thoughts of the photographer, even): I think that this would grant properties to the camera that it does not possess. The degree is near to zero.
The links you provide highight this. It's an important question as it involves defining what photography is, what it is capable of.
On a wider note it is such debates raised on The Landscapist that make it a good site to visit. I hope, in the best possible way, that such debates continue, that there is at least some disagreement!
Best, Sean.
Sean,
Every photograph is different; those in the Evidence exhibit were deliberately selected to show how much we could NOT know from a photograph. Others may carry something that I consider far from zero, though I would not want to say that meaning is "in" the photograph. If you are interested in the question more generally, you may want to look at a recent post at Art and Perception, in which a painter asked about what people saw in a particular painting of his, which was based on a photograph.
I also find the debate interesting, though I could play devil's advocate and ask why we should care to define photography and what it is capable of. Ultimately that will be defined by what photographers do and how viewers react to what they produce. In my case, the connection is that I believe that thinking about such issues will help me to make the kind of photographs I want to make. By my definitions, those are ones that have some meaning. But I'm sure neither definitions nor conclusion will be universally accepted.
Looks like my link failed to appear in the previous comment. The Art and Perception post is at:
http://www.artandperception.com/2007/03/paintings-and-messages.html
In both cases, they stated that a photograph of the house at 321 West Malloy Road would be affected by the state of mind of the photographer and that state of mind would be evident to the observer of the photograph.
Sigh. That's not what I said. What I said was "I suspect vast majority of photographs like this are made with the specific intent of serving as a trigger for a flood of memories that evoke emotions such as you describe."
In other words, my sister takes a photograph of my nephew's birthday party, because she knows that when I view it, the experience will trigger a flood of emotional responses that are based on things I've actually experienced which are similar to the scene photographed.
That's not at all the same as saying that the photographer's state of mind affects the photo (although I think it does) and that as a result the viewer can divine the state of mind of the photographer when the photo was made (which I most definitely did not say).
How you got from what I wrote to what you think I wrote, I haven't a clue.
Hi Paul - in mild defense I was quoting from Mark's comments on the comments, after reading the posts! No offense intended.
Some of this discussion suggests why some people think of photography as less than art. When I snap a photo of a birthday party, I want a memento to remember, but really, I put about as much care into things like composition, etc. as I do when I make a grocery list. The husband, aka gravitas, takes a very different kind of photo at the birthday party, even though it may have a snapshot look or quatity. His is much more deliberate than mine, maybe like a short story.
The issue of memory in photographs is central to my work, and very likely to most photographer work in one way or another. It seems to be a very complex issue, as complex as our brains ability of remember and associate images with experience. There are probably many ways to look at it; from an individuals point of view in which a persons own unique life's experience are drawn upon to make association when viewing another's photographs, and there may be more common experiences we all share and can draw from; something like a collective unconscious. To me it is important to think about this because ultimately it could help me make (or not make) photographs that will be accessible to more people.
Hi Shaun - thanks for taking the time to contribute.