How does one capture an emotion?

Landrum Kelly · February 5, 2016

That road has character; it has skin; it looks like the (hump)back of a whale. Here's one for you to ponder: Holding Virginia by Sally Mann [<a href="https://unrealnature.files.wordpress.com/2016/02/mann_holdingvirginia.jpg" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">LINK</a>]

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Virginia doesn't look too happy, Julie, and one can tell it. A bird obviously flew into the frame for that one.

--Lannie

Allen Herbert · February 5, 2016

"Driving at dusk and dusk into night with your favorite music playing and your memories as company. There's no other feeling better than this when you feel it..."

A cam in my hand and the world before me...

Allen Herbert · February 5, 2016

A touch of....<div>

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Julie H · February 6, 2016

I was wrong in some of my prior posts.

I was wrong in saying that narrative and context and objective/rational were ingredient to emotion. They are key to setting the stage, but they aren't there in the feel. It takes billions of dollars and thousands of people years of work to launch a rocket or space ship, but once you hear 'We have liftoff!" or, in sport, once the ball has left the hand, or the body left the ground, once there is a letting go, a falling into ... the feel ... escapes. It's not narrative; it has no contextual breadth; it's not objective and it's not rational.

The guitar player Wolfgang Muthspiel says: "With every note we play, we create a reality that surrounds us. So we can influence what we are surrounded by, what we invite." That's the context, the narrative, the rational, the objective; the preparation for launch. He also notes: "The guitar is by nature an instrument that can easily be chatty." This is also true of the camera. I would claim, however, that as long as we're being chatty, making thought-noises, the only role of emotion is as a functional lubricant. I don't think 'functional lubricant' is what Lannie is interested in. Big emotion is in a caesura, a break, a pause, a gasp, a letting go, or even something as small as a hesitation. The chatting stops; the ears prick, the nose sniffs nervously or wonderingly and you are invaded by feeling(s) ...

I think a powerful emotional picture will have a narrative which it will break, it will not make sense.

Another guitar player, Loren Connors (yes, I'm reading a book about guitar players), writes:

Discover, don't search, when you're playing. If you can't surprise yourself, you can't surprise anyone else, either. It's not a matter of knowing, but of giving. No one wants to hear what you've learned. They want to hear what you're discovering right in front of their eyes.

It's like a photo I have of two women who've just seen a tragedy in the street, and one woman is in terrible pain, but the other is very much more so, and the first woman is holding her up. Music, when it's at its best, the sound of it, is like that first woman, but what's inside you, is that other woman who would fall without your guitar's helping hand.

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******************

Finally, reference this long thread and ones like it:

One of the greatest things about loving the guitar [or photography!] is the camaraderie it creates ... We're almost like a secret society, a bright underworld. — Jeff Parker

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Landrum Kelly · February 6, 2016

I don't think 'functional lubricant' is what Lannie is interested in.

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Would you like to test that hypothesis, Julie?

--Lannie

Landrum Kelly · February 6, 2016

SEX I have tended to stay away from sexual themes in this thread, since sexual desire can blow away subtler emotions. Even so, sometimes, beneath the surface, there is something else, something deeper and more profound. One can tell this when a woman's eyes make one forget her body, however briefly.

It can happen, even in the face of the most blatant provocation.

--Lannie

Landrum Kelly · February 6, 2016

Music, when it's at its best, the sound of it, is like that first woman, but what's inside you, is that other woman who would fall without your guitar's helping hand.

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Wow, Julie. Wow.

There's more:

I think a powerful emotional picture will have a narrative which it will break, it will not make sense.

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--Lannie

Landrum Kelly · February 6, 2016

This gem stands out, too, Julie:

No one wants to hear what you've learned. They want to hear what you're discovering right in front of their eyes.

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And going back to this. . .

Big emotion is in a caesura, a break, a pause, a gasp, a letting go, or even something as small as a hesitation. The chatting stops; the ears prick, the nose sniffs nervously or wonderingly and you are invaded by feeling(s) ...

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Then finally,

One of the greatest things about loving the guitar [or photography!] is the camaraderie it creates ... We're almost like a secret society, a bright underworld. — Jeff Parker

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And you are seeing all this and sharing it right in front of us, Julie! You have personified emotion and gotten away with it.

--Lannie

Julie H · February 6, 2016

Lannie wrote: "SEX"

LOL. Was it "Liftoff!" or "lubricant" that provoked you?

functional lubricant -- I was actually thinking of the everyday emotions, which I find lovely, that are ongoing amongst us. For one example, see Lannie's first linked picture, above, which I enjoy.

To see gorgeous examples of this (the emotion knob is turned to 2 instead of 11, but, oh what a perfect, rich 2!) you can't do better than slowly savoring the faces in the portrait work of Seydou Keïta, in my opinion. [<a href="http://www.seydoukeitaphotographer.com/en/photographs/">LINK</a>]

Landrum Kelly · February 6, 2016

oh what a perfect, rich 2!

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A glorious 2 it is!

Actually, I was already looking at Doug's pictures (the last he posted on PN before departing for parts unknown) before I turned back to see what you had posted on the thread, so my mind was already "there" without any further provocation. [from you!] I knew instantly what you meant regarding those "everyday emotions" compared to the caesura, even the "small hesitation"--something that interrupts the flow of everyday life, something that moves us deeply.

I presume that every photo that grabs us has some emotional component, even those that appear emotionally sterile and even banal, such as <a href="/photo/18183545&size=lg">this wonder by Jack McRitchie.</a> But you are right that it is the "big stuff," the stuff that shakes us down to our boots, that we would really like to emphasize--even if the big stuff is really little stuff that is either unexpected or thought-provoking. As usual, you have thought this through and are operating several layers beyond where I am at present on this thread--always ahead of me. On top of which you are always. . . reading. Where and how do you find such marvelous stuff?

--Lannie

Julie H · February 6, 2016

Lannie wrote: "the "big stuff," the stuff that shakes us down to our boots ... "

... of snowdrops and compassion and jasmine and sex and history and espresso and dirt and flames and righteous anger and warmth and humanity's trail of tears and (to quote my good friend Hector Castillo) "sandpaper and honey," and the truly uncontrollable soaring flight of the unwittingly indomitable human spirit. — guitarist David Torn

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Maybe a wee bit over the top ...

Landrum Kelly · February 6, 2016

Big emotion is big emotion, regardless of the possibly banal context. Here is what you wrote early this morning:

Big emotion is in a caesura, a break, a pause, a gasp, a letting go, or even something as small as a hesitation. The chatting stops; the ears prick, the nose sniffs nervously or wonderingly and you are invaded by feeling(s) ...

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It doesn't take an earthquake or nuclear war to trigger big emotions, after all. The feelings--the strongest ones--often invade in a very prosaic and even routine domestic context.

--Lannie

Julie H · February 6, 2016

Lannie wrote: "It doesn't take an earthquake or nuclear war to trigger big emotions, after all. The feelings--the strongest ones--often invade in a very prosaic and even routine domestic context."

Very true. The trouble is, those are very hard to 'frame' so the subsequent viewer is aligned via that necessary pre-narrative -- which earthquakes pretty much provide without effort. You remember, I also wrote: "I think a powerful emotional picture will have a narrative which it will break, it will not make sense."

To see what I mean, look at the work of Rinko Kawauchi. She does the prosaic, the routine emotional whammy beautifully but, because that necessary framing narrative is so hard to introduce for such almost random events, you should have to work a little bit to get into the emotion of her pictures. If you're not willing to try, they don't carry enough of a hook to force themselves on you like Big big emotion pictures do. And, really, 'trying' kind of doesn't work with emotion.

Landrum Kelly · February 6, 2016

Create your own narrative. Don't try too hard.

--Lannie

Uhooru · February 6, 2016

I often get the sense that when photographer think of capturing "emotion", they tend to think more of Anger, rage, grief etc. Don't forget there is just as much, if not more, emotional intensity in joy, happiness, love etc. or inebriation:)<img src="https://farm1.staticflickr.com/19/115169707_f36974a615_o.jpg" alt="" />

Julie H · February 7, 2016

Barry wrote: "I often get the sense that when photographer think of capturing "emotion", they tend to think more of Anger, rage, grief etc."

Take a small but heavy black machine. Press its hard, sharp steel firmly against your face, dangerously close to your nose and eyes. Press if firmly so that it bites into the flesh and pushes your nose sideways. Worry about all the buttons, dials and settings that must be done right. Carefully, compose all the (moving?) stuff in front of the lens. Focus exactly. HOLD PERFECTLY STILL. Don't even breath. Now, in your most dramatic permitted gesture, move your index finger ever so slowly, just the tiniest bit to press the shutter release button.

Now you can breath again.

This kind of thing sort of kills the photographing of more jiggly kinds of emotion. By contrast, I think the iPhone, for all its aesthetic limits, encourages the photography of exuberance that we've not seen before simply because of its arms-length presentation.

*********************

I also think that many apparently melancholy pictures are in fact of a kind of quiet inner joy (boy am I getting dangerously close to sappy, here ... Hey, this is the emotion thread. Expect to be sapped.)

Here is Adam Ekberg:

... driving into the mountains in Northern New Mexico, I'd always turn on the radio. There were very few radio stations, and I'd turn the radio dial, just listening to them disappear one by one until this one beautiful pregnant moment when they all went away. And you were alone in the mountains. A kind of euphoric loneliness. ... [T]hat is what I ask of my photographs -- to be a surrogate for an experience like that one.

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I think that people alone with their cameras (as opposed to the many who are in a social context) are in a kind of different 'condition' or state somehow. I haven't thought too much about it, but the wheels are turning ... (looking at Lannie, who has already been accused of a kind of 'loneliness' in his pictures ... )

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Further, further, there is a thing called, by Philip Fisher, "the aesthetics of rare experience." I'd claim that "rare" has to be 'mounted' on the un-rare like a diamond on its ring in order to make any sense. 'Rare' means I've seen it but you probably haven't. Yet.

Landrum Kelly · February 7, 2016

I also think that many apparently melancholy pictures are in fact of a kind of quiet inner joy (boy am I getting dangerously close to sappy, here ... Hey, this is the emotion thread. Expect to be sapped.) --Julie H.

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One wonders to what extent that state of mind is an emotion at all, as commonly thought of. Is there a "contented" emotion? Is it sort of like a cat purring? Can one capture it visually?

--Lannie

Julie H · February 7, 2016

... "joy, happiness, love, beauty" Of whom??

From my very, very, very first post, and, plaintively, throughout the thread, I've been trying to find out if we might say please, somebody say, whether we're talking about the fish at the end of the line, or the joy, happiness, love, [sense of] beauty of the person holding the fishing pole. If/when we conflate the two ends of the string/pole, the fish is catching us (oh, wait, in a way it is ...). Oh, never mind.

Julie H · February 7, 2016

"Can one capture it visually?"

The tricky part is, beauty, which is often that on which one settles/invests ones feelings, isn't synonymous with emotion. They can partially overlap, but aren't the same.

Landrum Kelly · February 7, 2016

Don't forget there is just as much, if not more, emotional intensity in joy, happiness, love etc. or inebriation:) --Barry Fisher

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I'm thinking a good Irish pub shot right now. . . . Superbowl Sunday might be a reasonable approximation with the right company.

--Lannie

Julie H · February 7, 2016

"Superbowl Sunday"

I've been waiting for somebody to bring up sports joy. But then you get into sorting out formulaic postures of "great joy" or "abject despair" which everybody, in this everybody-is-photographed/photographing culture, knows how to assume in unison.

Landrum Kelly · February 7, 2016

Photography as an artistic expression - and art in general - has broader and deeper concerns than to only remember the joyous and beautiful. In the most expressive of art, joy and sorrow, beauty and pain, are recognized to be intimately interwoven. --Phil S.

The tricky part is, beauty, which is often that on which one settles/invests ones feelings, isn't synonymous with emotion. They can partially overlap, but aren't the same. --Julie H.

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I think that I will undertake a new project: capturing (or even identifying visually) that which we call "bittersweet." If not my favorite emotion, it is one that I know too well from the inside out. Getting it from the outside in might be trickier.

--Lannie

Landrum Kelly · February 7, 2016

I've been waiting for somebody to bring up sports joy. But then you get into sorting out formulaic postures of "great joy" or "abject despair" which everybody, in this everybody-is-photographed/photographing culture, knows how to assume in unison.

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Julie, I live near Charlotte (think "the Panthers") and I am waiting for the Super Bowl noise to subside in the media, at which point I might try a selfie to capture "relief," or even "ecstasy."

Alas, the NASCAR season awaits. Charlotte claims to own that, too. They name highways (even parts of the interstates) for NASCAR drivers here. The South is a whole 'nother world.

--Lannie

Norma Desmond · February 7, 2016

One wonders to what extent that state of mind is an emotion at all, as commonly thought of.

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I could call it an emotion. I could call it something else. Wondering about it at this point would serve as a distraction to me if I were trying to talk about practical techniques for evoking emotion in photos.

Is there a "contented" emotion?

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There's "contentment," no matter how you categorize it.

Is it sort of like a cat purring? Can one capture it visually?

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Yes, it sort of is. And, yes, it can. That's a practical question. Can you stick with it? Let's not debate whether it can be captured visually. You wanted to talk about how, right? In general, because there will always be exceptions (which makes all of this non-formulaic and leaves much room for interpretation and variety), do strong high contrast photos evoke contentment in you? Do sharper textures or softer textures evoke it? Do aggressive expressions evoke contentment in you? In one of the recent photos you posted, does the framing evoke contentment where half the face is missing and we're just focused on the eye? Does a severe shadow or a burnt highlight across someone's face read contentedly to you? In general, what type of perspective and composition would provide more contentment (and other words I'd use here in thinking visually about this are resolution, completeness, comfort, less tension, harmonious, etc.) Yes, it can be captured visually. And it can be evoked. Even if the photographer is feeling anxious and jittery when he does so. Again, there will be all kinds of exceptions to the above, but there is a visual language after all and we're not all speaking to each other in tongues through our photos.

Norma Desmond · February 7, 2016

By the way, Lannie, if you have any interest in exploring what you set out to explore in the OP, one way to do it would be to pick a photo that evokes contentment in you and analyze why it does. Practical techniques. Photographic techniques. Force yourself to stay away from words like "magic" and the minute you start getting theoretical and away from the photo, stop yourself in your tracks and tell yourself that's not what you asked. ;-)

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