A Photo Not Taken

<p>David Triplett, I do a lot of walking and most times choose not to bring my camera along. I also don't bring headphones. A lot of times, the sounds of the city create as much "imagery" as the sights. The flip side of that "recording" with our senses you talk about is that I can also feel a more ephemeral immediacy when I simply walk, like I'm not recording at all sometimes. When I've been able to bring such an ephemeral immediacy to my photographing, it can be pretty special.</p>

<p>David Cavan, I can relate. While there are some outstanding photos I didn't take that I'm glad I didn't take, I chose not to take a picture on one occasion, which would turn out to be the last visit between my father and one of his oldest and dearest friends, which I now have mixed feelings about not having taken. While the memory is pretty ingrained because I think we all knew it would be their last time seeing each other, I think I could have figured out a way to take a picture and not really intrude on the visit. It would be nice to have that picture of the two of them. But, for whatever reason, I chose at the time not to take it, and I figure it just wasn't meant to be. They're both gone now and there's something poetic about NOT having that physical photo either.</p>

<p>Don, it's great to meet you!</p>

<p>Leslie, great story and great take away from the story. Your thoughts about memorization and the preservation of an image sometimes working against remembering all the details makes sense. I brought up the fact elsewhere recently that pianists, before a performance, will often practice the pieces they've memorized on a practice board, a plain board that has no keys or strings. The point is to get the music into their fingers, as part of memorization and probably even more as a means of internalization. The heard music, in this instance, is better temporarily avoided for this exercise. Similar, I think, to not seeing the image, at times, other than in one's mind.</p>

<p>Actually, when thinking about photos not taken, my first thought wasn't about funerals and/or dead people. There is truckloads of photos I do not take - the most common reason: the light doesn't quite do it, or I cannot get the composition I want. Sometimes I try all the same, but more often I just let go.<br>

Loads of photos where I know (from trying in vain) that capturing that moment somehow never really works in my hands - mostly mountain landscapes where I am awed at the vastness, robustness and size of it all, and never manage to translate that awe into a photo. I stopped trying, and try to enjoy the moment more instead.</p>

<p>I never even considered taking photos at a funeral. I do not see that as a "photo not taken", as I see the act of not taking the photo as deliberate and conscious. For funerals, and several other situations, it never crossed my mind. It's not a deliberate choice to not do it, in a way.<br>

While deciding to make a photo, there is always also the thought to not make it, and more and more often, I do find that to be a perfectly fine choice; if the image that would result otherwise doesn't stand a chance of being remotely interesting even for me, why bother making it?</p>

<p>Wouter, yes, I agree with you that all the photos we don't take (billions every day!) are not what I meant by "photos not taken," though these shouldn't necessarily be dismissed. What we see all day long that we don't photograph still likely goes into what we do photograph when we do photograph.</p>

<blockquote>

<p>if the image that would result otherwise doesn't stand a chance of being remotely interesting even for me, why bother making it?</p>

</blockquote>

<p>This is interesting to think about. Because I think it's also worth considering that some images that may seem not to have a chance of being interesting actually might be. To some extent, thinking outside the box and making fresh and original photos might suggest to me to sometimes take photos that I don't care for or don't immediately think are interesting. And yet, I still pass by lots of things that I don't photograph.<br>

<br>

I, too, usually don't think about picture-taking at funerals, especially ones of family members or friends I'm attending, and I doubt I'll start doing so. But there are some situations in which I've thought it would be inappropriate to take pictures or that I've never thought about taking pictures in that I might well push myself to do or come to feel naturally curious or adventurous enough to do. Photographers who push such envelopes, such as Arne Svenson, pique my interest. There can be a confrontational aspect to that type of thing that appeals to me as well as a subversive aspect that can be important. Again, of course, a very personal matter.</p>

<p>A photo not taken is a moment that no longer exists both in the photographer's mind and in reality.</p>

<p>A scene that doesn't look interesting and is passed by wasn't a moment worth remembering anyway. But if the scene caught the eye of the photographer or made them take note, was it really that uninteresting? The photographer had to sense something even though it may or may not bring up questions on whether it would make an interesting photo but as it has been said before things look different when photographed.</p>

<p>That still doesn't guarantee it will be "interesting" or "original" when viewed as a photograph, just different from the original scene. To develop that level of interpreting and pre-visualizing reality hours after viewing it as a photograph/print or on the computer requires experience from reacting to similar scenes that first appear uninteresting and finding out once manipulated in post or in the darkroom maybe from cropping and other edits that the scene provided a frame work, blueprint or some type of structure for saying more than what was originally viewed in the scene.</p>

<p>As for situations like picture-taking at funerals the only scene in my mind that would make an interesting photograph for me would be whether it told an interesting story through lighting, mood, composition and facial expressions. Or unusual situations where someone had brought their pet with them or something similarly odd. But I'm sure interesting shots have been taken at funerals with only the intent to record as a family memento or for artistic expression. It depends on the sensitivity of the photographer.</p>

<p>I remember a scene in a movie the title of I can't recollect now that made funerals look downright interesting and disturbing, but it was a movie, not a documentary. Two different intents where both can deliver interesting results.</p>

<p>I don't know about anyone else here, but photographing dead relatives is way, way, way down on my bucket list.</p>

<blockquote>

<p>I don't know about anyone else here, but photographing dead relatives is way, way, way down on my bucket list.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>And it gets further down the longer they've been dead.</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

May we both live a long time and finish our bucket list together

<p>I'm sensing some discomfort now, which offers me a good turning point to the thread.</p>

<p>It strikes me that both the examples I gave in the OP where I chose not to take a photo were situations that I not only would have been uncomfortable photographing but situations that made me uncomfortable to begin with, photography or no photography. I started the thread suggesting that there was an upside to not photographing some things or events because something about the memories became special because of not having a photo giving me a more concrete view of the original situation.</p>

<p>But photographing when I'm the most uncomfortable, the most likely to turn away, or when I'm feeling that using my camera would be the most inapprorpriate might actually be a way of getting a photo or having a photographic experience that's unusually revealing / expressive / cathartic / subversive / unexpected / alienating / surprising / thrilling / adrenaline-producing . . . </p>

Yes I do understand what you mean. I probably have had those moments even though now I can not conjure them up. Neither clamp I

clearly specify what the conditions would be but I imagine that they would be solemn or personal tragic (for the subject) events especially

where the are very bad emotions especially where I was not very personally connected. I pull feel you an outsider wh is trespassing in

their personal space and experiences. These a would be moments that are important to them and I ask what would I do in reverse

situation. Maybe some people might feel an entitle meant to disturb the emotional environment but I know how I would feel entitled to

react. I can not put an exact definition to these moments but I would know them when I see them.

<p>Or ...<br>

.</p>

<blockquote>

<p>... There was a day that an airplane departed JFK and arrived into LAX, with fifty-five empty seats, any of which you could have booked but did not. There was a day that I pulled over and cried, in my car, parked at the edge of Hollywood and Laurel Canyon and felt my fifteen-year old shell of a Honda shake around me as everyone drove past. No one stopped to hold me or fondle me or shake me or look me over or ticket me or question me or count me in or rule me out. I had no one to pick up at the arrivals gate. I did not take a photograph that day, inside that car, stopped but not broken down, on the road's shoulder, because I felt there was nothing to preserve. Nothing to save, no one to see, nothing to remember, no one to look after me or the lonesome and failing and gliding shadows that took on water, flirted with trying, and finally surrendered, gave in, behaved, fell in line, and passed in front of the dashboard like hypnotized drone puppets on a mobile above a baby's crib. Sleep now, sleep, we need you to sleep, the world needs a break from you. I did not take a photo that day, because the clicking shutter would have been a parachute, it would have been a ripcord, it would have meant the things around me mattered.</p>

<p>... Photography has saved my life, over and over again. That night I wouldn't let it. I needed the world to choose me, if I was meant to keep going, let down and loveless. I needed a sign.</p>

<p>I believe photography is about choosing to live, being brave, looking is an act of courage. It's terrifying to see too much,. to witness things we cannot hold. ... Sometimes photographs live in our hearts as unborn ghosts and we survive not because their shadows find a permanence there, but because that thing that is larger than us, larger than the things we can point to, remember, claim, escorts us from dark into light, we emerge from the flames with no one in our arms, and we never unpack the camera.</p>

<p>—<em>Laurel Nakadate</em></p>

</blockquote>

<p>.</p>

<p>Thinking of Diane Arbus and Francesca Woodman.</p>

<p>One day I was walking down the alley where I lived alone, and I heard meowing coming from a gap between a building and a fence. I found a young cat with a damaged eye who turned out to have also survived a broken hip. I adopted him in a second, my first pet as an adult. Flash forward 20 years of deep companionship, and I am putting him to sleep, due to complications arising from the hip. The being I had spent the most time with in my whole life. A couple of weeks ago I found a picture I took of him after the euthanasia, bedraggled on his back in a cardboard pet box. I really questioned whether I wanted to have that picture based on the way it made me feel. (I have yet to see the body of a person I have been close to.) The words 'same conveyer belt' and 'end in sight' may apply. I can't say I celebrate having the picture, but I think I learned something from it. </p><div></div>

I have no idea why Laurel Nakadate was so upset about 55 empty airplane seats. Did she really feel that badly about the airline losing money? That entire quote must have been taken out of a context that I don't understand.

<p>I am increasingly undone.</p>

<p>Soon I will not even be, and that will be a great relief.</p>

<p>--Lannie</p>

Now, I hop this link works out since I had a hard time copying. Roughly translating it is a holocaust celebrating the survival

of the Jews at Auschwitz and I think it s valid but I am sure there are those who would not think it appropriate but still

relevant to this discussion. It just depends on the light it is perceived and how to show

homage.http://rutube.ru/video/08eb3796d26e16c06c96e5db59c839e0/

Editing my typos. A holocaust suvivor celebrating the survival...... . He is 90 years old in this and those are his

grandchildren. Not at Auschwtz but another infamous site

<p>WOW!</p>

<p>The video leaves me breathless.</p>

<p>Yes. The power of it for me is that I react both positively and negatively and think it's both appropriate and non-appropriate. It's demanding and it pushes me. It hurts but it's also joyous.</p>

<p>I can imagine those who will react very negatively and I would understand it. It would be a visceral reaction. There are many, many people I would not even consider showing it to because I think it would defy their being able to understand it or gain any benefit from it.</p>

<p>On the other hand, it says a lot.</p>

<p>On a much different scale, I'm reminded of how the resurgence of the word "queer" has been greeted in the gay community. Many feel it's great, because we've taken the word back and especially younger folks use it almost subversively, as if to say "you cannot curse me anymore" and "not only am I going to celebrate the so-called acceptable parts of being gay but I'm going to assert the not-so-acceptable-to-the-mainstream aspects of being gay as well." Gays use the word both as a celebration and a dare. It's meant, in part, to throw it back in the faces of those who used it against them.</p>

<p>Especially many older gay men don't like it and they recoil at its use, even knowing the point others are trying to make.</p>

<p>Something doesn't have to be intended to cause harm in order to cause harm or pain.</p>

<p>Words and images that are capable of causing such conflicting emotions, among a group of people and especially within one person, are very powerful indeed.</p>

<p>Some will simply dismiss this and will reasonably be upset by it. It's a show stopper.</p>

<p>All that said, it's a little too amateurish to have the kind of impact it otherwise might have. It just doesn't quite make it and that may be one reason why I wouldn't be surprised if more people were only offended by it. It would have to be a little better done, IMO, for the offense to be part of a bigger picture and for the whole thing to work a little better.</p>

Your last point may also touch upon the other post about content vs technology. Maybe the technology is part.of the

content so the question may not be valid.

To slide off topic to go into word usage ( I guess it is since you are the OP) I see maybe an analogy to the Russian words

for "you". I use this because it is easier to strip away other nuances in the language and work in a vacuum. You have the

words "ti" and "veh" for the word "you". There are essentially three tiers in their usage."Veh" is used when encountering

people who are met in everyday experiences like let's say a clerk in a store. "Ti" is used with close friends. When we have

people over for dinner who are close friends my wife will use the word "ti". But if you want to talk down to someone like

an arrogant boss to domestic help or sergeant to a new recruit you would also use ti. My wife was asked a couple of

times to translate for a very prominent person. One time his wife addressed her as ti. My wife was surprised by this but

then she responded with ti. Needless to say his wife was insulted that my wife used the familiar form of "you" and used

the word "veh " afterwords. There may be a similar context here.

Also the term queer was used in the 50's and 60's, a time when gays were considered open game by almost all of

society and there was no sanctuary. For the older people it might have a different connotation that one had to experience

to appreciate. Anyway, just a thought on you thoughts.

<p>Donald, another thought I had, which relates to the thread about snapshots as well as to this thread, is that this video will feel differently viewed by the family of the man as a kind of family-album portrait and musing. Posted to YouTube, however, which is where it seems all videos must end up these days, it becomes a different matter, and is being viewed in a much wider context than were it kept to the family. Regardless of why it was made and for whom, the family member who posted it to YouTube ought to be aware that the public context in which it will be seen has the potential to dramatically change the piece and how it's viewed. I'm not saying it shouldn't have been posted. I'm just noting how different it is as a family project vs. as a public spectacle.</p>

Also, I guess that when one goes through a tragedy of this magnitude they acquire a sense f entitlement and probably

are not concerned with outside opinion. This would be different for an unconnected outsider doing something similar.

<p>What would be the reason to post it to YouTube if you're not concerned with outsider viewing? Isn't that the point, or at least a predictable result, of posting it to such a publicly-viewed space?</p>

<p>My guess is that family members of holocaust survivors might be very sensitive to the feelings of other survivors who might see this. They may still feel it appropriate and even necessary to display it publicly, but I hope they wouldn't simply dismiss others' feelings out of a sense of their own entitlement.</p>

<p>It brings up an interesting point in terms of photography and art in general. Is there a deserved sense of priority given to an "insider'? I'd say, sometimes yes and sometimes no. But I certainly wouldn't want to be caught using my entitlement as an excuse to an aesthetic or moral criticism. Over the years, the morality of a couple of my photos of gay men have been questioned and I have to respond to those in human terms, not just as a gay man myself. My being gay doesn't excuse me from questionable moral issues concerning my portrayals of gay men. I've seen plenty of art about gay people by gay people that I would question and I wouldn't accept the fact that the artist was gay as an answer to the questions I might have.</p>

<p>Related to this, Robert Frank was a European whose photo book, The Americans, has very powerful insights into the America of that era, and some think his ability to use his outsider perspective is what makes it so extraordinary.</p>

<p>It's an interesting question. I think there's probably a "time and place" for everything and there are situations where a photo isn't necessary. For example, certain things you may just want to leave in your mind the last way you saw them rather than have the photo you take turn into "the" memory. Once you've got a photo of something to refer back to, that essentially becomes your memory of something. To me, there are times where it's better left in my mind the way I saw it with my own eyes. <br>

Some people would want a photo of anything that could potentially invoke strong feelings or emotions so I certainly understand the mindset of wanting to capture even those things that most wouldn't think of pulling out a camera for but it's just a matter of preference. </p>

I have never challenged anybody's artistic statements on the grounds that they are appropriate, offensive or what ever.

The person making a statement has freedom of speech and maybe I have to understand more or I can choose to ignore

or argue their point. What I do not have is any tolerance for a statement that would attack attack my integrity. My thoughts

are always open to criticism but I will never stand for having my integrity, sincerity or motives attacked.