I. Russel Sorgi - 1942 WEEKLY DISCUSSION #16

<p>One more thing it could take to bring this photo beyond cheap is simply a willing viewer.</p>

<p>I'll take Gordon's world and vision. He seems to have the poem, the beauty, and the grace already in his heart.</p>

<p>Fred, you are playing safe. There are a lot of willing viewers out there for this type of documentary photos. Actually you can make a living out of it as the story behind the image tells.</p>

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<p>Steve G.: After 8 pages, not much left to say anymore.</p>

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<p>I've probably run out of constructive things to say here, too. Looking forward to a new one tomorrow.</p>

<p>Gordon, another sage comment. I might take your statement and suggest also that the mind (viewer or creator) is filled with unintended art, when it removes any veils to seeing or developing it. </p>

<p>After saying there was nothing more to say, I do have a few observations, primarily regarding a seeming point of contention that I don't think really exists.</p>

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<p>Landrum Kelly: <em>I am not suggesting that we shoot at random, simply asking whether our evaluation of a photo depends on intent at all.</em></p>

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<p>A good question, Landrum, but I think there are only subjective answers to it. I also think this is a part of some of the disagreement here. How much weight does one give intention and purpose when evaluating a single photograph, and/or when evaluating a body of work? I am inclined to give it much less importance when considering a single image (as in Sorgi's photograph), and much more importance when evaluating a body of work. I don't think a significant, or even journeyman-like, body of work can exist without intention and purpose (even if it varies over time). Then there are those who will not accept anything accidental or vernacular (the old "if there was no previsualization then it's crap" approach). Some people are impressed when a photographer has gone to exotic locales or faced hardship and difficulty (the National Geographic school -- personally, I don't care what the photographer went through to get that shot of the water buffalo, the tiger, or an Antarctic sunset...but if they faced dangers to capture the human condition, a human documentary where the images have significance, that is a different story to me). Some people like you, me, Gordon, Arthur, or Fred, do appreciate the accident, the found, the lucky shot, the vernacular, the unintended. Those are exciting discoveries to me. And I don't think Anders disagrees with that (sorry if I am putting words in your mouth, Anders). I think it is the morbid, the sensationalisitic (taken with exploitive intent to titillate a certain audience, or captured by accident but still intentionally released to that certain audience) that becomes objectionable.</p>

<p>But finding a certain dark beauty in Sorgi's image does not have to mean that it stems from some contemporary societal compassion fatigue or a debauched inurement to the tragedies of other human beings. Appreciation of dark beauty, dark surrealism -- whatever we want to call it -- does not always require human death or tragedy. Nor does callousness of feeling always have to accompany it. It can, and there are those who probably do derive a sensationalist and morbid thrill from looking at images of human death and tragedy. Look at how popular video compilations of human accidents are (skateboarders missing a trick and landing groin first on a railing -- that sort of thing). Nor does viewing Sorgi's image in an appreciative fashion mean that the viewer is unaware of how jaded and saturated with violence many people are today. Being open to the beauty in the unintentional (Gordon, Fred, me, others....) does not equate to closing one's eyes to tragedy, to societal obligations of compassion, to living in a dream world that willingly chooses to shut out the realities of tragedy and human horror. That is a completely different thing, and not at all what I am saying, nor what I think Gordon, Fred and others are saying.</p>

<p>And now, hopefully, I really have said all I have to say on this subject. At least for now... ;-)</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Steve, your cadenza, especially with such a flourish of understanding, is welcome!</p>

<p>I want to add that I still don't know what this photographer's intent was.</p>

<p>Also, for it to be sensationalistic, IMO, would not require that the photographer intended it to be so. I could allow for the photographer to be innocent in terms of evil intent and still have come up with an ethically questionable photo. Additionally, even when a photographer talks about his own intent, that can often be insufficient because we aren't always completely in touch with all the motives that go into our work.</p>

<p>In this case, we have the photographers own words about the event, which don't tell me he was intent on or motivated by a sensationalist approach. It seems like a good reporter's factual memory of a scene and his own actions . . .</p>

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<p>“I snatched my camera from the car and took two quick shots as [Miller] seemed to hesitate . . . As quickly as possible I shoved the exposed film into the case and reached for a fresh holder. I no sooner had pulled the slide out and got set for another shot than she waved to the crowd below and pushed herself into space. Screams and shouts burst from the horrified onlookers as her body plummeted toward the street. I took a firm grip on myself, waited until the woman passed the second or third story, and then shot.”</p>

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<p>And then we have the author of the article's conclusion, based on some amount of contemporaneous research, which seems a fair one . . .</p>

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<p>"I wasn’t there; I can’t know what was in his mind, or her demeanor."</p>

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<p><em>Look at how popular video compilations of human accidents are (skateboarders missing a trick and landing groin first on a railing -- that sort of thing).</em><br>

Specious argument - it has always been industry practice to preface these compilations with a statement that none of the accidents depicted resulted in death or serious injury.</p>

<p>David, if this weeks image had been published with a statement announcing that "the event did not result in death or serious injury", we are up for quite a long series of additional comments. I'm not sure it is worthwhile !</p>

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<p>David Bebbington: <em>Specious argument - it has always been industry practice to preface these compilations with a statement that none of the accidents depicted resulted in death or serious injury.</em></p>

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<p>Sweet Christ! It's not an argument at all, David, it was an example of a type of display of human misfortune that certain types of people seem to enjoy watching. "Oh! He did a back flip off the diving board and knocked his teeth out on the way down! Hardy har har!" People drive down the expressway and slow down to look at horrendous wreckage and body bags on the other side. I am saying that, yes, there are people who feel compelled to view such things. The type of audience that sensationalistic photos and newspapers have always been aimed at. How is such an explanatory example a specious argument? </p>

<p>How many times do we have to go over this? How many different ways do any of us have to explain how we view the Sorgi photo? </p>

<p>"<em>I</em><em>t's sensationalistic! It's callous! It was cynically taken to sell newspapers! Photojournalists like that are unfeeling paparrazzi!" </em></p>

<p>We get your point of view. If you choose to only see it in that way, fine. I respect your view, even while I find it limited. But please do not ascribe callousnessness to those who see it differently. Do not impose your limitations upon our point of view as if it's a simple, clearly delineated case of saying, "If you appreciate this photo at all you are X, and only those who condemn it are Y." And if you must do that? Fine. Ascribe away, condemn away, moralize away. Your business, not mine. <br>

<em> </em></p>

<p>One of the reasons this photo is so powerful is because the situation was uncontrolled and real and because it doesn't need the type of disclaimer mentioned.</p>

<p>Photographers and journalists and artists are not ideal filtration systems, are not needed to be judges and juries as to what's appropriate for me to see, saving me from seeing what they or others don't want me to see or think is unethical for me to see or appreciate. I prefer to make my own decisions and remain comfortable enough with (though always questioning) my own ethics and morality to want unfettered access to real-life events, regardless of how taboo or sensational they might be considered by some. I don't spend a whole lot of time looking at those sorts of images, but I want them available and do choose to look at them when I want to. I will decide. It's not the journalist's place to do that for me.</p>

<p>Even if this photo were meant purely sensationally and had been taken only for financial gain (a reasonable case for which has not been made here), I'd still want to have access to it, since it does go so far beyond those ways of seeing it, far beyond the photographer who took it, far beyond the woman who's the subject of it, and far beyond any one person's singular and universal pronouncement on its ethics or the ethics of those who find it worthwhile.<br /><br /></p>

<p><em>We get your point of view.</em><br>

Oddly enough you don't - it may be that in the clouds of steam around this thread, no one can understand anyone else any more. But one last time in brief - it is my belief that in the years since the picture of the suicide was made (in 1942), there has been a dramatic change in the public's attitude.<br>

THEN pictures of real violence in the press (dead mobsters in pools of blood, etc.) were apparently acceptable, while fictional violence was very restrained. NOW fictional violence is very graphic, while the presentation of real violence in the press and other media is very restrained - people seem to want a guarantee that they are not seeing real pain and death.</p>

<blockquote>David Bebbington: <em>...it is my belief that in the years since the picture of the suicide was made (in 1942), there has been a dramatic change in the public's attitude.</em><br /><em>THEN pictures of real violence in the press (dead mobsters in pools of blood, etc.) were apparently acceptable, while fictional violence was very restrained. NOW fictional violence is very graphic, while the presentation of real violence in the press and other media is very restrained - people seem to want a guarantee that they are not seeing real pain and death.</em></blockquote>

<p>A valid observation with which I am in agreement. </p>

<p>So what the heck are we all blathering about...and who are we blathering to? Threads are funny sometimes.</p>

 

<p>I do not disagree with the point about then and now and fictional versus real violence. The 1942 photo allows the viewer to only imagine the violent end of the falling lady but does not graphically depict it. What I think is important in this remarkable image is that once removed from the first layer of perception of the image, which is shock or sadness at what happened, we can move on to the other layers it develops, from the compositional ones (the likely accidental capture of the policewoman entering the building, the dark grey tones of the building, the war sign, and the gentleman inside, apparently at dinner and oblivious to the drama unfolding), to a then succeeding layer that invokes the imagination of the viewer, observing the calm and gentle posture of the falling woman, and considering the more philosophical or emotional factors that may underline what is happening or caused the desire to commit suicide.</p>

<p>The discussion has gotten its shorts tied in a knot in attempting to defend undefendable (unknowable) positions of the photographer or his subject. For me the photographer is not important, only what his picture suggests, and that is more important in a human context and even an artistic context than any question of money made, limits surpassed or other ancilliary factors not related to the image and to the time and place it was created.</p>

<p>My understanding of a very major purpose (albeit not the only one) of these weekly discussions is to expand our experience of interesting images and what they suggest to us and to aid our ability to critique images and in so doing to consolidate our own approach to photography. At least that is important and the way I use it. On the whole, this week's image has accomplished that, independent of (in my humble opinion) often secondary assertions outside that particular frame.</p>

 

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<p>I first saw it in a textbook in a 101 photography class. I have never forgotten it.</p>

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<p>Amy, when I read your introduction to this week's photo my mind immediately went to this image... before I had even seen yours.<br>

<a href="http://kottke.org/08/07/the-most-beautiful-suicide">http://kottke.org/08/07/the-most-beautiful-suicide</a> by a photo student named Robert Wiles.<br>

I know well how a young mind can be forever changed by an image of something that seems so unthinkable. I was probably about 10 at the time.<br>

Congratulations at successfully 'stirring up the pot' :)</p>

<p> </p>

<p><em>what the heck are we all blathering about...</em><br>

Steve, I think everything that has been said falls within the bounds of normal discussion - and I think we can pride ourselves on the fact that we have concluded this without personal invective or invocations of Hitler :-) !</p>

<p>Well, Gup...I was hoping for an interesting discussion (not so much to "stir up the pot") and it seems that did come to pass. I'm looking forward to Weekly Discussion # 17. Whew!</p>

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<p>He did a back flip off the diving board and knocked his teeth out on the way down! Hardy har har!" People drive down the expressway and slow down to look at horrendous wreckage and body bags on the other side. I am saying that, yes, there are people who feel compelled to view such things. The type of audience that sensationalistic photos and newspapers have always been aimed at. How is such an explanatory example a specious argument?</p>

 

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<p>Steve, I haven't the heart to wade through whatever you were responding to, but this is downright eloquent. You should write for a living.</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

<p>It is a record of the ultimate act of performance art for which there is only one performance before the show closes. And very, very few such performances are so well documented and reviewed.</p>

<p><em>Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke;<br /> When down her weedy trophies and herself<br /> Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide;<br /> And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up:<br /> Which time <a href="

chanted snatches of old tunes</a>...</em><br /> *</p>

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<p><em>"Take me underground</em><br /><em>Take me all the way</em><br /><em>Bring me to the fire</em><br /><em>Throw me in the flames</em><br /> <br /><em>I'd rather die</em><br /><em>I'd rather die</em><br /><em>Than to be with you"</em><br /> <em>--(Phantogram, "When I'm Small")</em></p>

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<p>*</p>

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<p>"It may transpire that the photograph has less significance for the individuals involved and takes on a symbolic role expressing the difficulties and frustrations of urban living for a 35-year-old white woman living in the eastern United States."<br /><a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=odzcAAAAQBAJ&pg=PA95&lpg=PA95&dq=I.+Russel+Sorgi&source=bl&ots=6lQKkhVaXH&sig=aq9MqRH__yCXsPIMF4izAktZ9Yc&hl=en&sa=X&ei=zkYlU6m0JYik2gXLi4GQDQ&ved=0CHYQ6AEwDw#v=onepage&q=I.%20Russel%20Sorgi&f=false"><em>--The Photography Handbook, edited by Terence Wright</em></a></p>

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<p>The same commentary goes on at length to drily discuss the technicalities of the photograph and probable equipment used.</p>

<p>Oh, we do try.<br /> Perhaps only a man could come so close to getting it while managing to not quite get it at all. We have our hands on the button, but don't quite seem to know what happens after we push it.<br /><br /></p>

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<p><em>"So show me love</em><br /><em>You've got your hands on the button now</em><br /><em>Sure enough</em><br /><em>You've got your hand on the button now."</em><br /><em>--(Phantogram, "When I'm Small")</em></p>

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<p>Mary Miller left nothing but mid-air dance notation, possibly the vaguest form of performance notes, leaving others to interpret her story or give it some frame of reference. Chan Marshall's <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e-omWlUVIA4&feature=kp"><em>"Nude As The News"</em></a></p>

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<p><em>"And I know in the cold light</em><br /><em>Is a very big man</em><br /><em>Leading us into</em><br /><em>Temptation"</em></p>

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<p>and Joanna Newsom's <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IDGeFBjynyY"><em>"Sprout and the Bean"</em></a></p>

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<p><em>"And as I said,</em><br /><em>I slept as though dead</em><br /><em>dreaming seamless dreams of lead."</em></p>

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<p>lend some hints to the turbulence and undercurrents.</p>

<p>There's an almost perfect resonance in Francesca Woodman's final act almost 40 years later, a leap from a building like Mary Miller's. Yet after a brief, intense period of self examination and documentation through photography, she left her final performance unrecorded. Perhaps that's what made these acts perfect contemporary performance art - they omitted the obligatory coda, leaving echoes behind where we can only imagine the endings.</p>

<p>Great stuff, Lex. :))</p>

<p>Afterall, maybe Mary Miller was doing an ultimate act of performance art that morning a young photographer happened to pass by:</p>

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<p>""she waved to the crowd below and pushed herself into space""</p>

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<p>Beautiful, Lex. Beautifully written. </p>