intimate

<p>Don, photography is a matter of images.. paper and film and files and toys are not photography, they're tools.</p>

<p>Our eyes respond to images and our brains are able to respond to photos in much the way they respond to observed flesh.</p>

<p>Yes, we can respond to a photo of a tree or mountain in much the way we respond to the objects themselves, but that's a red herring here, it was brought up due to fear of the topic: something about human intimacy. <strong>It's interesting that many of us work so hard to avoid discussion of HUMAN intimacy in photos...the avoidance is consistently evident in our P.N portfolios.</strong> We photograph ducks, barns, sunsets, and "candidly" photograph unfortunate people we don't have the guts to address directly.</p>

<p>Some obvious science: human beings have elaborate facial muscular, skeletal, and control systems, as well as learned practices that enable us to visually express an infinity of subtle messages.</p>

<p>No ape could approximate that, even if it had our brain and culture, because it lacks the communicative physiognomy. A human with frozen facial nerves loses the ability to convey intimacy with facial expression. A poker player avoids expressing facial information. A blind person can deal in facial intimacy through touch, but not the way a photograph can. Younger children don't do intimacy much beyond dependence and primative emotions because both their faces and their facial skills are largely unformed (in photos we call that "innocence"). <strong>Photography can record and share incredibly subtle facial messages: intimate expressions.</strong></p>

<p> </p>

<p> In my opinion, the <em>importance</em> of intimacy has been and continues to be overstated in this thread. One can produce an intimate and cloyingly saccharine picture. The line between intimacy and sentimentality is thinner than a paper cut. There's a lot of things at play in Fred's pictures besides intimacy.</p>

<p> What are the visual cues that we interpret as intimacy? The dropped mask? Familiarity with the subject? An exchange? Innermost? Profound?</p>

<p> After the scores of posts, we don't have an operational definition (not a formula) of 'intimacy' in a photographic context. Semantics are relevant, but visually the term remains elusive. When a mask is dropped, something is revealed, and often it's another mask. And revelation isn't everything. Visually, things like 'innermost' and 'profound' aren't so easy to detect, particularly when they come in the unfashionable guise of genius.</p>

<p> We live in a world of increasing alienation. In less than a hundred years we went from an extended to the single-parent family. People move in the US every five years. For many, the majority of their friends are people they only know on line. Perhaps this is why intimacy is uncommon in photographs, far less so than alienation. It may not be out of fear, but simply an accurate and true reflection of the zeitgeist.</p>

<p> Plus, not every photographer is a portraitist; not every portraitist has the same interests, or defines intimacy in the same way.</p>

<p> When I search Flickr for intimate photographs, this is what comes up:</p>

<p>

<p>Visually, besides the usual schmaltz, some visual cues appear with regularity:</p>

<p>1) Closeness. Literal physical closeness, from portraits to flower macros.</p>

<p>2) Frontal views. Head on, or slight obliques.</p>

<p>3) Romantic landscapes.</p>

<p>4) Normally private views (things outsiders normally don't get to see).</p>

<p>5) Sensuousness (both in human expression and formal).</p>

<p>Search for intimate spaces, too. A surprising number of abstracts, among other things.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>"Perhaps this is why intimacy is uncommon in photographs, far less so than alienation." Luis G</p>

<p>As far as intimacy and alienation, I'm thinking that one doesn't exclude the other.</p>

<p>I saw a transgender performance festival last night (about 12 individuals and groups performed theatrical pieces, dance, and music). There was a heap of alienation, palpable, expressive. It was one of the most intimate evenings I've spent in a long time.</p>

<p>For me, a lot of alienation expressed in photos often rings hollow because they lack intimacy. There's a difference between anger and alienation. When alienation is compellingly expressed, it goes way beyond "I'm mad as hell . . ." It "reveals" the source of isolation and the depth of the connection/disconnection between the one alienated and who s/he is alienated from and why. "We're here, we're queer, blah, blah, blah" may express a level of alienation but it's not terribly intimate.</p>

<p>Last night, the most intimate piece (expressing alienation and other things) was performed by one person who transformed on stage within about 20 minutes from old world mother learning of her daughter's desire to be a man to the daughter to the son. Fascinating to me was how the performer used comedy to express even greater alienation and get even more intimate (laughter can really get an audience involved). The intimacy was of the various kinds spoken of in this thread: between the performers and audience, among the performers themselves, and between the performers and their subjects . . . they shared intimate moments and emotions.</p>

<p>I don't agree that the importance of intimacy has been overstated. (I prefer to talk of its "significance" because, to me, that doesn't suggest objective value as much as an internal connection to the photograph or photographer-subject-viewer relationship.) I agree that there is often a lot more than intimacy at play, but it is sometimes a bottom line.</p>

<p>After all this talk I'm thinking that " intimate " might as well be another word for " reality ", or life on Earth, factual and imaginable. The most intimate visualisation of reality, meaning if both words can mean the same thing : the most real perception of the " real ", of a life lived, is perhaps a photograph from space showing Earth. It can evoke the concept of " life " in it's most existential essence, without having to show a single individual human face or expression of joy or sorrow, hate or love, pain or pleausure. Intimacy / reality, isn't as much about expression as it is about impression. And a photograph ( which is what most of us have to do with ) of the Earth seen from space, gives a damn impression if one bothers to be impressed about it, about the commonly shared "face" that can be seen in it, and it expresses nothing in particular.</p>

<p> Fred, I obviously did not make myself clear that I was using 'alienation' as the opposite of 'intimacy' from the viewpoint of the photographer. In that sense, they would be mutually exclusive. It is certainly possible to portray alienation intimately.</p>

<p> I was commenting on the pervasiveness of non-intimate photographs. It has been suggested here that this is due to fear of intimacy, I was merely suggesting that it might not be fear at all, but a characteristic of the reality of most people, who seem largely incapable of doing intimate photographs, often of their own children, (clothed) spouses and others, even when they're engaged in intimate behavior, as we often see in the PN galleries, Pnina's W/NW thread, and elsewhere.</p>

<p> Why are so many photographers (and other artists/non-artists) unable to express their innermost, deep, profound feelings? The mutuality that intimacy exemplifies? </p>

<p>Is it fear? Or are they simply showing us their reality?</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Luis, fear is operational in everybody's reality, along with other guiding emotions. "Their reality" inherently includes fear. </p>

<p>The "mutuality" to which you refer exists independently from an inevitable degree of fear, but its affected by that fear. Flirting or making a pass at someone involves an element of fear...when done to "excess" (whatever that means) it is often said to be motivated by the desire to repeatedly prove oneself, to deal with one's fears.</p>

<p>Fear is not the opposite of some other feeling any more than perspiration is the opposite of a feeling...it doesn't preclude other feelings...it's an independent phenomenon that operates in complexity, though it can take over sometimes, crushing other feelings. In my personal case it's a motivator...when I notice fear I often move toward it.</p>

<p><strong>That some photographers are not portraitists is fine, I'm not criticizing them. We all like a nice falling-down-barn photo. That doesn't preclude the <em>possibility</em> (<em>or likelihood?</em>) that they photograph barns rather than challenging their fear by photographing people ..fear of intimacy.</strong></p>

<p>Emotions are as measurable as gravity.. though more complex, multi-variate, and typically sloppily named. Fear, in the midst of that complexity, crosses species. Dogs fear much the way humans fear, you can make them fear ( anger or flee or cower) by staring into their eyes. We all know how that relates to portraits.</p>

<p> John, I understand for you, it's fear. Or for others, since for you it evokes the opposite reaction you ascribe to others, though you used "often", not always. I loved the definition of photography as bipolar, between falling-down barns and portraits. That catalog leaves a lot of undiscovered ground left out there. If you look hard, you may find other people have coined an antonym for fear. YMDV.</p>

<p> However, I didn't say fear of intimacy is non-existent. I am simply asking what <em>else </em> besides fear might account for the vast majority of the-opposite-of-intimate (isolated, alienated) photographs.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>"I am simply asking what <em >else </em>besides fear might account for the vast majority of the-opposite-of-intimate (isolated, alienated) photographs." --Luis G</p>

<p>Superficiality. Ease. Want of prettiness. Desire to record only. Desire to maintain objectivity. </p>

<p>By the way, we are still in disagreement about alienated photographs being the opposite of intimate ones. I think better antonyms would be "distant," "remote," "cool," "aloof," "unpenetrating." I think we are often alienated from things we are most intimate with and I think the same photo can be alienating and intimate.</p>

<strong></strong><br>

<strong></strong><br>

HOWEVER...fear is substantially a biological phenomen, not like "isolated, alienated" which are sociological at best, pop-psychological more often. I think it relates closely to intimacy...but you evidently don't think intimacy is as important as some others do, so would rather talk about something else.</p>

<p>Fear is easily measurable (pulse, blood pressure, perspiration, EEG, retina, chemical changes etc), occurring routinely in the course of every boring day...<strong> </strong>not a hypothetical or sociological phenomenon like "alienation" (unless you're talking about pheremones, clinical depression etc).</p>

<p> One's body experiences and expresses fear, unaware most of the time. But one <strong>may</strong> restrict one's photos accordingly, without awareness: "street" with zoom lens, barn, bug etc.</p>

<p>People who don't share images often say they fear being ripped off, criticized, or fear (they "shouldn't") admitting they're technically incapable (no digital version of their images because their photography is/was still pre-digital). </p>

<p>Luis, I posted representative photos, recognizing a little fear...you didn't. <strong>Why not?</strong></p>

<p>Fred - "Superficiality. Ease. Want of prettiness. Desire to record only. Desire to maintain objectivity."</p>

<p> Mostly damning terms, save for two.</p>

<p> A question: During a strong objective movement like the "New Objectivity", where the desire to maintain Objectivity was the dominant raison d' etre, do you see ""distant," "remote," "cool," "aloof," "unpenetrating." throughout?</p>

<p>Are there only Expressionists here?</p>

<p>"By the way, we are still in disagreement about alienated photographs being the opposite of intimate ones."</p>

<p> ....and for the moment, so we remain, though I am thinking about it, and I tried to indicate this by using the term "the opposite of intimacy" to get beyond this potential impasse. I can live with your suggested antonyms for the purposes of this discussion.</p>

<p>____________________________________</p>

<p>Luis--</p>

<p>Three damning terms, two not damning. That was about the ratio I thought was appropriate. I wouldn't characterize my feelings about lack of intimacy as "mostly damning terms, save for two."</p>

<p>No. I don't see objectivity and "distant," "remote," etc. as synonymous. While "distant," "remote," et al seem to be antonyms to intimacy, "objectivity" does not. You had asked what might account for a photo being not intimate. Objectivity might and does sometimes, but it doesn't have to. I think Phylo's Earth-from-a-distance image might be a counterexample, where objectivity can, in fact, yield intimacy. Distance itself might suggest lack of intimacy, but the image he describes has something which mitigates that distance, perhaps transcending or transforming it. The way Don has described his approach to photos seems objective but not necessarily lacking in intimacy with his subjects. Don, I don't want to speak for you . . . your thoughts?</p>

<p>I have to say here that I'm becoming increasingly aware that these refinements of definitions and word associations are problematic for me with regard to photographs, particularly my own. I may be the worst person to describe my own photographs and I often think each of us is with respect to our own work. I can describe my process like no one else can and even my own feelings about the photos. But as for describing the photos themselves, the minute I do I start disagreeing with what I'm saying or seeing it a different way. So now, even the word "distant" seems like it can participate in intimacy of a sort. I think that's why I lean more toward Wittgenstein's understanding of how we use language than Plato's. For Plato, definitions and what is included in the meaning of a word is fixed and somewhat holy. For Wittgenstein, words are much more fluid and context-driven. So the minute you try to pin intimacy down with descriptive terms, that's the minute someone will think of an exception, and usually a compelling one, to your definition. Most words allow for that, yet people still understand them.</p>

<p>I think that's why I've often tried to use my own photographic examples, because such examples usually do go beyond words, even though words are such a key part of these discussions . . . obviously.</p>

<p>As for Expressionism, I think if I were asked to throw out a bunch of words pertaining to it, "intimate" would likely be one of them. Asked about Cubism, for example, I probably wouldn't immediately toss "intimate" into the mix, though many cubist paintings are extremely intimate.</p>

<p>[Fred G]"No. I don't see objectivity and "distant," "remote," etc. as synonymous. While "distant," "remote," et al seem to be antonyms to intimacy, "objectivity" does not."</p>

<p> Ok, let's roll with that. Once you remove "objectivity", it becomes a 3:1 ratio of negative to near-positive. In spite of everything that has been said here, the concept is still being explored by successive approximations. I understand the term, and see no harm in delving further into it.</p>

<p>[FG] "I have to say here that I'm becoming increasingly aware that these refinements of definitions and word associations are problematic for me with regard to photographs, particularly my own."</p>

<p> This is a monster of a term, effectively a Line of Demarcation dividing Photography into two kinds. If we add a gradient, as in more or less intimate (<em>that</em> should be interesting), we still end up with a bipolar, linear concept. I'm finding this a little suspect. Now that Objectivity has been excluded, all that is left that is semi-positive is to "record only".</p>

<p>Forensic and superficiality, ease, want of prettiness photography = the opposite of intimacy.</p>

<p>Am I the only one reeling a bit from this division of the medium?</p>

<p> I ran across this while pondering this thread:</p>

<p>"The opportunism of the street photographer, the brevity of contacts, the distractedness, make adverse conditions easier to envisage as elements of life's rich pattern"</p>

<p> --- Clive Scott, Street Photography, "From Atget to Cartier-Bresson."</p>

<p>http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1845112237</p>

<p> It seems to open up the possibility for potentially positive qualities in a non-or-low-intimacy photograph. Is this possible? Or do <em>all</em> significant/'good' photographs have to be intimate?</p>

 

<p>Luis--</p>

<p>You're off base, insisting on pinning me down to ratios of definitions that I've already told you are inadequate. </p>

<p>Your logic escapes me. Somehow, your logic seems to be that because I don't find polar opposites to the word "intimate," I see no value in photographs that are not intimate? Huh? As I said, objective photographs are often not intimate and I may like them very much. Objective photographs may also be intimate. I don't have a clue why you've wiped "objective" off my list. You asked for qualities that can account for non-intimate photographs. You didn't ask for qualities that were the opposite of "intimate." Objectivity belongs on the list. It can account for non-intimate photographs.</p>

<p>I think "removed" and "remote" photographs can be every bit as good and as compelling as intimate photographs. Sometimes someone's remoteness from their subject is so palpable that it really reaches me deeply, especially if they are genuine about it.</p>

<p>Yes, I generally tend to like intimate photographs. Bipolar, linear . . . your judgments, not mine. I'm talking about my own methods, my own photographs, and my own tastes. What are you talking about?</p>

<p>I have two quotes that I think might be useful. This is from a description of Helen Levitt:</p>

 

<blockquote>

<p>To a photographer, the theme of touching can have a further, critical importance. It intimates the <em>continuum</em> of a lived, sentient appetite and response within the necessarily immobile scene. More than that, touching, in the way at least that Helen Levitt's New Yorkers do it, is in collusion with something behind the surface; it's an external gesture that attaches human value to an interior life, or it's the most direct way we're led to infer such attachment.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>As compared to (and in no way meant as a disparagment of):</p>

 

<blockquote>

<p>Cartier-Bresson, whose work Helen Levitt knew in the 1930s, and whom she acknowledges as a prime influence, was a virtuoso in "arranging" graceful visual tangents. No sooner do we comprehend the flow of his configuration than it is seen to unfold through impingements -- of shadows, feet, calligraphy, puddles, fungers -- that judiciously appear to have just left off or are about to kiss each other. In short, it's the potential energy of the overall field that kindled him, and which he realized through a sequence of chance, kinesthetic attractions, suspended in time and space. Having digested that lesson, a young American woman, out to explore New York precincts with a camera, learned that she had a different temper. For her, touch was not an illusion suggested by agile placement of the framing eye, but a real-life event. It was also definitely felt as a compressive, enfolding event, episodic, self-concerned and indiffferent to the picture field.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>To repeat, this is not a preference of one style over the other. Just a distinction.</p>

<p>

</p>

<p>[Fred G.] "Your logic escapes me. Somehow, your logic seems to be that because I don't find polar opposites to the word "intimate," I see no value in photographs that are not intimate?"</p>

<p>My logic escapes me sometimes, too, Fred. I was getting a little overwhelmed by the concept, trying to better understand/define it by dancing around it, looking at its opposite, or lack of.</p>

<p>[Fred G] "Objectivity belongs on the list. It can account for non-intimate photographs."</p>

<p>It can.</p>

<p>[Fred G] "I think "removed" and "remote" photographs can be every bit as good and as compelling as intimate photographs. Sometimes someone's remoteness from their subject is so palpable that it really reaches me deeply, especially if they are genuine about it."</p>

<p>The above is an answer to my clumsily posed ramble of a question. Thank you.</p>

<p>[Fred G] "Yes, I generally tend to like intimate photographs. Bipolar, linear . . . your judgments, not mine. I'm talking about my own methods, my own photographs, and my own tastes. What are you talking about?"</p>

<p>Absolutely my judgments and no one else's, and my perception that I found that idea a little limited, that is what I was talking about, and you have clarified it.</p>

<p><a href="../photodb/user?user_id=3885114"><br /> </a></p>

<p><strong>"In my opinion, the <em>importance</em> of intimacy has been and continues to be overstated in this thread. " - Luis G</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Fear of intimacy</strong> is so common and so obvious that its "importance" is self-evident.<br /><br />"Intimacy" has nothing to do with the schmaltz imagined somewhere above. Perhaps we're dealing with a language issue here. The thread's topic isn't sappy images or semantics, it has to do with human relations.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>John--</p>

<p>I think you make an important point about intimacy not having to do with sappiness. The thread, toward the latter part, has moved in a worthwhile direction as it begins to include in the discussion some things we think of as negative.</p>

<p>There is a negative side (or at least a difficult side) to risk. Risk is involved with what I, the photographer, may do to be really intimate. But aside from what I do as photographer, there are other difficult things involved in the intimacy itself or the expression of it.</p>

<p>Greed and alienation are significant.</p>

<p>Some use "intimate" romantically. It may fit but it's not the whole story. There is a darker side.</p>

<p>Voyeurism. There can be something very intimate and also powerfully alienating about it. Sontag discusses the relationship of voyeurism and photograph making, as we know. Perhaps the lot of some photographers is to exist in that region where intimacy and alienation overlap.</p>

<p>And, voyeurism aside, admitting in our photographs our own insecurities, our own disenfranchisement, our own foibles, are intimate expressions. </p>

<p>Intimacy can be about communing . . . it can also be about loss. Rarely, I think, is it about simple beauty.</p>

<p >Some photographic genres (particularly portraiture and street photography) are revealing the most intimate essence of their subject. This is makes the enchantment of these genres. Sometimes I have a feeling that nude photography is less revealing the intimate essence of the models than a talented portrait or a successful decisive-moment-type of a candid photograph. This is related solely to the intimate world of the object. </p>

<p > </p>

<p >The real intimacy in the art (and photography in particular) we may see exposed only when the image reveals the emotional connection of the photographer to his object. This blending of emotions and care that go in parallel with the emotions depicted represents the real revealing of the essence of the object, the utmost act of intimacy. </p>

<p > </p>

<p >According to WEBSTER intimate comes from the Late Latin <em>intimatus,</em> past participle of <em>intimare</em> to put in, to announce, from Latin <em>intimus</em> innermost. Thus there are two interconnected meanings: </p>

<p ></p>

<p ><strong>1</strong> <strong>:</strong> to make known especially publicly or formally <strong> </strong><br /><strong>2</strong> <strong>:</strong> to communicate delicately and indirectly.</p>

<p > </p>

<p >Therefore the attitude of the photographer should openly be expressed in his work. This guarantees elimination of any hint of sappiness, alienation or voyeurism in the photograph. </p>