The story behind the image - helpful or not?

[jonathancharlesphoto]

<p>This is related to the last question "<a href="../philosophy-of-photography-forum/00a0Le">What you don't see at first in looking at a photograph</a>?"<br>

It is often said that "a picture should stand on its own" but for me the experience can take on greater depth from knowing the background story of the photographer and the situation when photo was taken (the same applies to looking at classic paintings in a gallery). There may be a conscious message / intention in the image (apart from "this looks nice") and almost certainly a wealth of unconscious messages in the apparently random choices made in composition. Even if the picture <em>could</em> "stand on its own" it may take too long for the viewer to fully tune into it so some background info could make it much more accessable. Especially in photos of people, understanding the realtionship with the photographer can help to interpret them and engage with the emotional content.<br>

I am interested in how useful others find he information when it is provided. I usually write a few lines about the circumstances of my photos to help understand them but I hope in doesn't inhibit people from imagining other possible scenarios of their own.</p>

<p>PS If this has recently been covered in a forum that I missed please let me know...</p>

[Julie H]

<p>Jonathan, I don't think it's that an image "should" stand on its own: I think an image *does* stand or fall on its own. However, this should, in my opinion, in no way be seen as a limit on the nature of the enjoyment that happens around or because of or related to etc. etc. an image.</p>

<p>An analogy (that's got a lot of holes, but oh well). Eating artichokes. You like them? You don't like them? The artichoke experience should/does stand or fall on its own artichokiness.</p>

<p>However, where you are eating them, how they are prepared, who prepared them, who you're eating them with, your history of artichoke eating, stories about artichoke eating, growing, tragedies and triumphs, artichoke breeders who improved this noble vegetable -- all can enrich and develop the artichoke experience. Yet, I would still claim that the particular artichoke you are eating/experiencing stands or falls on your tongue-ish experience.</p>

[jay_hector]

<p>Yeah, the story behind the image, like this one brought up in a sportshooter.com thread . . .</p>

<p>http://www.sportsshooter.com/message_display.html?tid=39647</p>

<p>and this is the story . . .</p>

<p>http://www.luminous-landscape.com/essays/the_making_of_sugarloaf_rock.shtml</p>

<p>The story exposes the lack of truth of the image. </p>

[cyanatic]

<p>Depending upon the photograph, I generally prefer the inclusion of a scratch and sniff card as opposed to a background story. I can better <em>inhale</em> the <em>perfume</em> of the image that way. (Unless, of course, an artichoke is involved -- in which case a suitably piquant remoulade is considered preferable.)</p>

<p>Now that that's out of the way: I find background story useful for historical, contextual, or biographical purposes. But I don't think the significance of an image should hinge, positively or negatively, upon that background. I don't want to go down the "it depends -- let's define every eventuality" rabbit hole, but to a certain extent it does depend on the photograph we are talking about, and what impact, if any, that background story has upon it.</p>

<p>[Edit -- Timely post by Jay Hector above, which provides potential examples of when a story DOES impact the quality/significance/judgement of an image. Saints preserve us from any more "PS is/is not cheating" threads.]</p>

<p>For an example, I may look at a photograph of a rock climber clinging to the side of the Eiger. It may or may not be an engaging or dramatic image. I later find out that the image was taken by a fellow climber who, in passing the camera back to his partner moments after the picture was taken, had a mishap and plunged 2000 feet to his death.</p>

<p>Does this improve the quality of the image itself? No. It makes it more interesting, but that quality of being "interesting" comes from the story, not the photograph.</p>

<p>Another example, this time a real one from Diane Arbus:</p>

<p><a href="http://americansuburbx.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/Diane-Arbus-Child-with-Toy-Hand-Grenade-in-Central-Park-New-York-City-1962-Custom.jpg">http://americansuburbx.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/Diane-Arbus-Child-with-Toy-Hand-Grenade-in-Central-Park-New-York-City-1962-Custom.jpg</a></p>

<p>The first few times I viewed this image I had certain reactions, felt certain feelings, and made certain judgements about it. Some time later I came across an anecdote (apocryphal or not) that Arbus intentionally kept holding off, or re-taking, the photograph for the very purpose of eliciting that particular look of anger and frustration on the boys face.</p>

<p>Does this story alter my initial reactions to the photograph? In my case, no. I've heard some people say it "cheapens" the impact, or that Arbus "cheated" or "staged' the photograph. I've heard some people say that she was brilliant for doing so. To me, however, the image still stands as the image (emblematic, symbolic perhaps, of many things). Again, the story is interesting, but the image remains the same.</p>

[johncrosley]

<p>I generally give a 'back story' to the images I post along with extensive colloquy and other things in comments.</p>

<p>I have quite a following of people who read these 'back stories' and other things, plus a few detractors.</p>

<p>To the detractors: No one has to read the back stories or the soliloquies, the colloquy between myself and other members, but the comments seem popular, and many find the feature interesting. </p>

<p>The process, over over eight years here, has generated feedback of support that outnumbers detractors more than nine to one, and there are over 15,000 comments.</p>

<p>For someone not interesting in reading, just look at the image, and if moved, one way or the other, make a comment. Reading the colloquy or 'back stories' is not required reading.</p>

<p>Many find the comments underneath the photos interesting reading. I am sure a few members come to visit my photos as much for the colloquy and back stories as well as for the photos themselves.</p>

<p>There's also extensive instruction scattered throughout the comments in, say, in 'how to shoot street', and experience the feeling one gets when one encounters almost inevitable street situations.</p>

<p>In an older 'camera club' one might corner a member to discuss 'what were you thinking when you spied that scene or got into that circumstance' but this is a virtual forum, and it's harder for members to ask such questions, so I try (1) to anticipate such questions and then (2) to answer those questions thoroughly with the idea to educate those who come here to this virtual photo club.</p>

<p>And I try to avoid what some may seem as common abbreviations such as 'OOF' for Out of Focus or 'DOF' for Depth of Field in the belief that some newcomers may be so fresh to this craft that such abbreviations are lost on them -- better to actually write them out.</p>

<p>I am continually in the process of synopsizing the pertinent parts of the commentary tutelage on street into a book and/or text to save time and trouble for future generations of student photographers and photo aficionados who may not want to wade through 15,000 comments for the nuggets of 'how to shoot and/or experience street' (among the hundreds of various other topics discussed).</p>

<p>Despite all the bells and whistles in the comments, in the end, each photo stands on its own.</p>

<p>A photo must be intereseting and hopefully well done for someone to click on it.</p>

<p>The comments, back stories, soliloquies, commentaries, colloquies, lessons, and observations in the end are chaff, and -- I hope -- interesting chaff.</p>

<p>If the choice is to look at one of my photos or to look at another's, and the choice is to read what I hope are interesting comments and perhaps participate in interesting colloquy, then I hope the choice will be to click on my photo first.</p>

<p>One thing is for certain: no one is going to look at photos based on comments alone - the photo has to be able to hold interest on its own.</p>

<p>Also, although I may shoot some pretty nudes and landscapes, I shoot lots of 'street', and 'street' as I shoot it can sometimes be pretty gritty. Members don't always understand 'street' unless an observation is made about why the photo was taken. "Street' is often misunderstood by those who think "'good photos must be 'pretty'".</p>

<p>In putting the effort into helping develop colloquy that has developed into more than 15,000 comments (at least half mine), the object has been to share with fellow photographers - to answer their questions and in many cases to answer the questions they have not yet though to ask.</p>

<p>But in the end, it's the image.</p>

<p>(and almost certainly a book from a distillation of the'street shooting' tutelage).</p>

<p>john</p>

<p>John (Crosley)</p>

 

[luis_g]

<p>I like to initially experience images at the purely visual level, without taking in the title, if any, or any kind of backstory. This is not because I believe it should stand on its own, just personal preference. It is one level of many, and curiosity and enjoyment often makes me want to dive into many levels of an image. I am also big on context, and believe no man or photograph is an island.</p>

[Lou_Meluso]

<p>For me, simply viewing images, a photograph needs a title and nothing more. I should see everything that needs to be seen in the image. I don't care how it was done, or the circumstances around the picture. I don't care what other pictures the photographer made, if they were successful or completely unknown. I want to experience the picture unburdened by outside influence. I will decide fairly quickly if I like it or not although divining why generally takes more thought.</p>

<p> After that initial contact, however, I may decide I want more information or not depending on the picture or the circumstances in which I'm viewing. Certain documentary type photographs are sometimes too cryptic to understand fully without a caption. Yet artistic images are rarely helped by literary explanation, which is not the same as words and images being used together, by design, to form a powerful communication whole. </p>

<p>A photo critique is a unique process. If critiquing an image, I definitely don't want <em>anything</em> out side the image to influence me. The image in front of me is the object of interest. Nothing must distract me from feeding that image directly though my own set of interpretive filters and preserving the integrity of the opinion development process. I try to avoid all side stories, back stories, creation processes, photographers intentions or history or other peoples opinions. None of that is relevant to my own visual and emotional experience of <em>that</em> singular object at <em>this</em> unique moment. Different people, with different filters, at different times will see different things. If I am to be true to the work, I must accept that and say what <em>I</em> see in it. Some feel that they must bolster their opinions buy getting supporting elements from the photographer, their processes/methods, their past work or even in comparisons to others work in the the same genre. On the extreme, some reviewers feel an image must past some litmus test( film or digital/is it real or photo-shopped?) before they allow themselves draw an opinion. I feel no need for such peripheral analysis. I trust my eye, my experience and my heart. Everything I need to know about the picture, for better or worse, is right in front of me in the picture. So yes, IMHO, the image stands or falls on it's own merits. </p>

[Julie H]

<p>Of course, one does need to be careful. Discrete background story checks are always a good idea.</p>

<p>What if you said, out loud, that you thought a picture was good and it turned out to be by Ansel Adams? Gasp! Everybody knows that he's got cooties this year!</p>

<p>Or suppose you said, out loud, that you didn't get anything from a picture and it turned out to be a genuine Eggleston??? All of the forum <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heathers">Heathers</a> are wearing Eggleston this year!</p>

[Norma Desmond]

<p>My Mom planted a gardenia bush outside the front door of her house a couple of months before she got sick. When I was in Florida during her final days, I would stop and take in the smell of the gardenias on my way out to the hospital in the morning and on my way back in late at night. Since childhood, I have loved that smell. For a period, whenever I had company, I would get a couple and float them in crystal bowls in my house and it would bring a luscious bouquet of perfume into the air. Now, gardenia has taken on a new scent for me. I can't smell it without a bittersweet feeling coming over me. Though I may not be able to specify what it is, even my first whiff of a gardenia as a child came with a history that helped determine how I felt about it and reacted to it. I have never had an ISOLATED experience of a gardenia.</p>

<p>Everything I experience comes with history, known or unknown. A story has already been written within which a new photo strikes me. There are all kinds of associations that I make with the visual world in a photo. I am not and no photo is a blank slate just because I'm seeing it for the first time.</p>

<p>Photos have to be presented. They may be matted, framed, hung on a wall, lit a certain way, printed in a book, shown on a bright screen or a dull screen . . . They already are being influenced by an array of things and contexts that are "outside" the photo. A story or title can simply be part of that presentation.</p>

<p>_________________________</p>

<p>A simple title like "Self Portrait" makes me see a photo a certain way and I appreciate that. Because I think a self portrait should be seen as a self portrait. I understand the sentiment that says a self portrait should stand on its own but I also understand the sentiment that would say you're not seeing the whole picture if you don't know it's a self portrait.</p>

<p>A photographer may title his work or write an accompanying story (narrative or metaphorical) just because he wants to, because THE PHOTOGRAPHER deems it part of the photo, just as if he would have included some visual detail in the photo itself. The title, for the photographer, may be part of the emotional surround of the photo. It may not need to be justified any differently than the inclusion of something within the frame needs to be justified. A viewer may not care who this photo is of, but I do. We, as viewers, may need to get over ourselves. The title may not be for us or about us, just as the photo may not have been made for us and may not be about us either. </p><div></div>

[cyanatic]

<blockquote>

<p>Louis Meloso:<br>

After that initial contact, however, I may decide I want more information or not depending on the picture or the circumstances in which I'm viewing. Certain documentary type photographs are sometimes too cryptic to understand fully without a caption. Yet artistic images are rarely helped by literary explanation, which is not the same as words and images being used together, by design, to form a powerful communication whole.</p>

<p>Luis G:<br>

I like to initially experience images at the purely visual level, without taking in the title, if any, or any kind of backstory. This is not because I believe it should stand on its own, just personal preference. It is one level of many, and curiosity and enjoyment often makes me want to dive into many levels of an image. I am also big on context, and believe no man or photograph is an island.</p>

<p>.</p>

 

</blockquote>

<p>I too prefer to look at an image without looking at the title or knowing any initial back story. But interest in a particular image can lead to looking at other work or biographical information about a photographer. Years ago my wife gave me a copy of "The Family of Man" as one of several books on photography for a birthday gift. It sparked my interest in some of the photographers, among them Yasuhiro Ishimoto. Curiousity piqued by an image or photographer can lead to broadening the depth of knowledge about both by looking for back stories and biographical information. This can lead to viewing an image in a slightly different way.</p>

<p>Fred -- Yes, in the matter of self portraits I do like to know if I am looking at the photographer. Again, a personal preference, certainly not a demand or a requirement. On the subject of of titles I do confess to a certain prejudice against titles which point to a particular meaning or interpretation. I lean toward factual simplicity as in "Two men on Wabash" as opposed to "Greed on Parade" or "The self-absorbed blindness of Corporate America". However, in the instance of Fred's photograph of his Dad above, I think "Dad" qualifies as factual simplicity while also freighting the image with more impact than if he had entitled it "Man in Motorized Wheelchair". If I viewed that image first, without looking at the title, it impacts me a certain way, but the emotional impact and universal connection to the photo increases upon reading the simple word "Dad". </p>

<p> </p>

[rossb]

<p> I like to hear the story.</p>

[jonathancharlesphoto]

<p>Thanks to all who have replied so far. There seems to be a fairly even split between those who prefer the unadorned photo and those who find some "added value" from information about it but we are all initially affected mainly by the image.<br>

I guess it's "Look first, ask questions later"! ... so for those who hang around to ask the questions the appreciation takes place in 2 steps - the first lets us freely imagine a scenario which may well have more to do with our own history and mythology; the second, to an extent, nails us down to the author's concept. If this is just a pretentios title with an unconvincing relation to the photo (often the case with <em>eg</em> glamorous / sexy photos of professional models) the viewer will probably reject it - unless it accords with their own fantasy. But if the described back story is real it can allow deeper access to the interpretation of the details and emotion that is in the picture which could only be figured out with a very long view, if at all.<br>

It would be great to get some more views, especially about what, if any, kind of info is most interesting: the photog's background, the scenario at the time of taking or the intention/meaning of the final image...</p>

[Julie H]

<p>For me, there are sort of two "places" where I am with respect to the picture (relax dichotomophobes -- this is just me breathing on the glass and drawing my thoughts with my finger -- it will all be gone in a moment ...).</p>

<p>To blow this up from a picture to a movie or a theater (easier to visualize), when I'm "at" the movie or the theater, I "let" the drama, the show the visual spectacle engulf me, unbind/unbound/unframe me. The show's gravity runs me, moves me, makes me.</p>

<p>But when I leave the theater, the show goes back into its boundaries, its frame, and then my own gravity places it -- around or relative to or into me. I take what I've seen and "fit" it or slot it into the full fabric of my ongoing experience. I think this is both completely necessary for a sane human being, and/but also not to do with art in the sense that I think all liviing creatures do this. I think my dog does it -- and often better than I do. Every single thing that's in my presence gets historicized, "placed" into context (this chair, this loaf of bread, this sound, this light -- I orient myself, locate myself, etc.). Notice that this is about me; all these things (including pictures, shows, etc.) that I'm "placing" are permanently in flux; what I want from it is just the "teeth" that fit its cog or weave into <em>my</em> passage -- just like my dog wants the visual or the scent that fits its surround into its ongoing experience.</p>

<p>For me, a good picture, or the theatrical presentation used above, can/should have the ability to operate on me, to fit me into <em>its</em> effects; should have at least some (perhaps a lot) of autonomy (power) to have <em>its</em> cogs turn me, its teeth bite my mind and move me, not vice versa. To dis-orient me at least a little bit.</p>

<p>So, to try to tidy this up a little, I think a story is always going to be found, even if the story is that there is not going to be a story (an "anonymous" photo is slotted differently from an "untitled" photo by a known photographer who refuses to talk about his pictures) simply because we always are in the process of locating ourselves in a full ongoing fabric; but there is, in a good picture, the opportunity precisely to let somebody else work the funhouse mirrors for a while (if we let them).</p>

<p>[Yes, I know I always start from somewhere; what I am biologically, culturally, etc. It's the bump, the swerve, the skip in the needle that's not mine.]</p>

[jonathancharlesphoto]

<p>Julie, I think you have identified a universal memory-making process and the two stages are a little different from mine (comment above) - so maybe that makes it a 3 stage process - but they are linked. A question is: how does the back-story influence the way the experience is fitted into my whole-life view. </p>

<p>I think there is good evidence that we take on board <strong>stories</strong> (as all advertising designers try to create them to sell their proucts) better than isolated experiences. I find that a story that I make up myself in response to a picture is rather like a dream - it works for the moment but is rapidly forgotten (unless it resonates powerfully with a pre-existing dream/myth). A real (or at least convincingly realistic) story can become a contextual memory - as If I had lived it myself: it then becomes incorporated into my world-view and stays with me. </p>

<p>I guess this is part of what we want our artistic efforts to do for others.</p>

[Norma Desmond]

<blockquote>

<p>I lean toward factual simplicity as in "Two men on Wabash" as opposed to "Greed on Parade" or "The self-absorbed blindness of Corporate America". However, in the instance of Fred's photograph of his Dad above, I think "Dad" qualifies as factual simplicity while also freighting the image with more impact than if he had entitled it "Man in Motorized Wheelchair". --Steve</p>

</blockquote>

<p>Me too, Steve. This puts me beyond the question of whether a photo stands on its own or not. It's similar to the question of making photos. How do I craft a title or accompanying narrative that will work with the photo to get the desired result (the desired result, of course, being as rich and, in some cases, as non-specific as the desired photo), <em>if</em> I want to include text?</p>

<p>Some won't read "Dad" first, so their experience will come without an element that was meaningful to me. That's fine, I don't look at titles a lot until later as well. Some will read "Dad" first and it won't necessarily keep any viewer from losing themselves in whatever way they lose themselves (if they lose themselves) when viewing a photo. If they're concerned about having been manipulated by the title, they may already feel that way by my including the wheelchair instead of lifting Dad onto the couch for the photo. I'm telling the story I want in the way I want to tell it, not acceding to the demands of some possible viewer and how they want to have a photographic experience.</p>

<p>The bottom line is plenty of text and titles are distracting and would be better left out, just like there are things about plenty of photos that are distracting and better left out. As with photos, the combination of skill and voice in one's writing and the ability to weave it with the photo will determine whether it works or not. </p>

<p>I imagine we've all been in a position on occasion to first read about or be told a little something about a photographer before we ever see one of their photos. That's never spoiled or taken anything away from my first "aesthetic" experiences of the photos.</p>

[luis_g]

<p>One's state before approaching the arts can affect how we see. Backstory, prestory. </p>

<p>http://psycnet.apa.org/psycinfo/2012-03016-001/</p>

 

[alan_zinn]

<p><strong>Luis</strong>, I just read the "Fear Abstraction" blurb yesterday!<em> </em>I'm very skeptical about this kind of study but find this one titillating. Is it fear of just not <em>getting</em> abstraction?<br>

<br /> <strong>Jonathan,</strong><br /> Good way to put it. It isn't essential for me that images come with footnotes and fish stories but it seems logical that the back-story is vital to our memory retention of the individual work or artist and influences our initial response to other art.<br /> <br /> A painter friend loved to go into great detail about the inspiration for his pictures. Everyone enjoyed his work and hearing his gallery talk. It is delightful to look at with clearly recognizable subjects. What the pictures are <em>about</em> doesn't matter. The explanations offered were personal and often based on whimsical and tenuous connections. Though sometimes serious and emotional, he was not afraid of visual puns and misdemeanors. I learned from him how to look at art from an artist's perspective and to enjoy my own feelings about it.<strong></strong></p><div></div>

[jonathancharlesphoto]

<p>Fred, I like your idea that the artwork is the whole caboodle - all the elements of the image, the frame, the gallery, the written info, the artist's life, the time and culture we live in - well maybe I've extended it a bit beyond your view but all these affect the experience plus, of course, the beholder. Many artists unconsciously (Modigliani) or consciously (Picasso) create a life story that enhances the power of their work. On photo.net or other net galleries we have the opportunity to check back to the photographer's bio or manifesto as well as other works: this may enhance (or otherwise) our view of the particular photo.</p>

<p>A good example of the "otherwise" was seeing what appeared to be a salvaged print from the 40s or 50s of a rather lovely intimate scene, only to find on looking at the other work that there were a dozen other photos with exactly the same fading and blemishes, some looking very contemporary in content - evidently using the same "antiquizing" filter, possibly an off-the-peg one. My appreciation of the first photo was then spoilt by the feeling of being, in some way, cheated.</p>

<p><br /> A few years ago I was on the other end of a "cheat" when my photo "Kate with Turban" was PoW and there was a lot of discussion of the rather poor technical quality due to an over-exposed neg. Some people had commented that they liked the grainy appearance but when I admitted that the original grain pattern was too lumpy so I had smoothed it and then added more even artificial digital grain, there followed a further discussion of whether this was "valid" (and I argued at the time that if it looked convincingly like grain it didn't matter what caused it). I think I could be changing my mind about this...</p>

[jonathancharlesphoto]

<p>Luis, re the "fear" study, I have seen a similar study (but I don't have the reference to hand) showing that sexual attraction was much enhanced by recent experience of fear - possibly explaining the war/disaster surge in pregnancies. It's interesting to speculate if this shows that our appreciation of art is based on an evolved (or God given) refinement of sexual attraction, which would justify the popularity of the nude in art through the ages.</p>

[Norma Desmond]

<p>Jonathan, we seem to be on the same page. I wouldn't say the artwork is the whole caboodle but I would say what you said next, that all these things affect (influence) our experience of the artwork to varying degrees. In some cases, they do become part of the artwork, and in some cases the artist sees to that intentionally. </p>

<p>For me, good titles and text expand my visual vocabulary and illuminate in suggestive ways the photos they're talking about. They don't provide a too-specific message, meaning, or interpretation, though they may well provide very specific details about time, place, circumstance, and tools.</p>

[luis_g]

<p><strong>Alan Z - " Is it fear of just not <em>getting</em> abstraction?"</strong></p>

<p>(& Jonathan Charles)<br>

What the experimenters seem to not be aware of is that the neural routing for non-realistic hard (or impossible) to make out imagery is initially directly through the amygdala, not the visual cortex. This also happens to be one of the brain structures associated with fear. I'd hazard a guess that with the fear variable they were activating the very structures that abstract imagery is mediated by. This extends to fairly clear things, like Impressionist painting. What they believe is happening is that the lower brain is activated whenever it is not clear jut what we're looking at. Is that a bear up ahead in the fog? Snake or tree root? Croc or rock? Leaf patterns or tiger, tiger burning bright? We react more emotionally to this type of image than to a realistic one (although I am sure this varies in magnitude).<br>

____________________________________________</p>

<p> </p>

[jonathancharlesphoto]

<p>Luis that's a good point about the different pathways but I'm not sure it explains the experiment you referenced - that was looking at the positive (presumably not scary) response to art <strong>after</strong> a fear-provoking experience.</p>

<p>If the picture itself provoved fear then the non-cortical pathway would make you act (or at least panic) before the cortex had figured out what you were looking at. The cortex is actually better at sorting out unclear images, but rather slow. So you might jump away from a snake-like root and then realize it's just a root - but if it <strong>had</strong> been a snake that jump could have saved your life.</p>

<p>But I think you're right that the non-cortical system does pick up on emotional cues that the cortex can miss - <em>eg</em> "For some reason I just don't trust that guy". I find this useful when looking at a portrait - I don't try to analyse it I just look and try to feel "What is that person really like?" - if I don't get a clear impression I reckon it's not a very good portrait: if the personality comes through loud and clear the photographer / artist has done a good job.</p>

[luis_g]

<p>Jonathan<strong> Charles</strong> - "Luis that's a good point about the different pathways but I'm not sure it explains the experiment you referenced - that was looking at the positive (presumably not scary) response to art <strong>after</strong> a fear-provoking experience."</p>

<p>Yes, after, in something like this sequence: Fearful image viewed ---> Activates lower brain, increases blood flow (and therefore nutrient flow) to the area. ----> Area energized ----> Abstract image shown ------> Its pathway has <em>already </em>been activated/energized by the action before, is sensitized (more alert) to discerning forms -- or the fear response itself is desensitized/reduced/extinguished by the prior action.</p>

<p>At this point, there's a lot of unknowns in all this, of course.</p>

<p>As far as the reaction to a portrait, the alternate path is not involved unless 1) The lines are unclear/fuzzy/indistinct (as in much of the work of the Impressionists, or 2) The form is not readily identified. Mind you, the lower brain is also involved in seeing, but normally towards the end of the path, not the beginning.</p>

<p>I am not in agreement with the idea that a "clear impression" makes for a good portrait. People are mercurial, in other words, many things. Some they are conscious of, others not. Ambiguity, transitional expressions or mystery can make for a great portrait. </p>

<p> </p>

[aplumpton]

<p>If a title is not a value-added information or experience it does little for me. If it tells me simply what I can readily see in the picture, it is seldom value-added. If it suggests that one way is the only way I should see the image, it is of negative value. Photographs, like paintings or sculptures, are a visual experience. Sometimes, however, a title of a series of images can be useful, as can a briefing on the photographer or the project, when context needs to be made, but such added elements should not normally (for me, anyway) intervene between the image and myself.</p>

<p>I am interested in what we do not immediately see in an image (this can take various physical or emotional/intellectual forms in, or derived from, the image) and I prefer to figure that out by myself, rather than having everything presented to me before I can engage fully with the image as such. An analogy: I may encounter something exceptional in a culinary sense upon visiting a small restaurant in an unknown European (where that seems to happen most frequently) village. I will wonder about the nature of the food received and try to imagine what was behind its making, its ingredients, its power to delight. If those questions remain a mystery I will sometimes try to meet the chef or one of his colleagues to understand more about what I have experienced. A tempting visual experience via the viewing of a photograph is like that. Understand it, savour it, further question it, and, if more value-added is needed, go to the source.</p>

[alan_zinn]

<p>The more we learn about the mind the more recent research seems to agree with our intuitive understanding as artists/photographers. The Philosophy Forum topics bring up phenomenological issues frequently. Maybe there should be a <em>mind and brain</em> forum? Never mind!. A cool bit of theory I've just gotten interested in is the distinction between attention and consciousness. Its covered in the current Science News. You may also recall the recent man in a gorilla suite experiment.<br>

<a href="

Essentially the research shows that our senses receive far more input than we can be conscious of. No surprise to us! But the distinction is fairly new to neurological science. Many of us will agree that we find things in our photos we did not see when we took the picture. Likewise we agree that the viewer is pre-disposed to respond to certain visual data in the image. A neat example in the SN piece was that the audio cortex responds upon seeing a picture of something (piano) that makes a sound. Think of silent movies - we fill in the missing stuff. Going back to the OT - textual data, we have agreed, likely influences our visceral response to the picture.</p>