Why do we like what we like?

charleswood · June 24, 2016

The question "Why do I like what I like" is not the same as asking "Why do I have likes at all?" The OP question calls for an inventory. The latter question doesn't have an answer.

As to an inventory, our 'likes' exist in social contexts. Social psychologist Mahzarin Banaji discusses implicit bias <a href="http://www.onbeing.org/program/mahzarin-banaji-the-mind-is-a-difference-seeking-machine/8719">here</a>. A personal example of implicit bias is my statement "I'm white and I had a black uncle." Implicit bias exists in my terming "black" a man that was at least half white and we often aren't aware of our culturally acquired implicit biases. Mahzarin also says in the interview that she doesn't believe we can offer to each other a self-description that is coherent. I agree. It isn't coherent of me to say I had a black uncle, instead marking me as part of a culture that could say such a thing. Nor would I expect a coherent answer to the question: "Why do you like what you like?" Too much guesswork involved in the answer.

Landrum Kelly · June 24, 2016

Honestly, what do you expect me to say?

</blockquote>

I have no particular expectations, Fred. I was just reformulating the question to extend to photos that are deemed to be important, even when they do not "please" us in some ways.

Might as well ask why I am the person I am. Any question can be made metaphysically impossible to answer, extra specially deep. It can always boil down to the basic WHO AM I and WHY AM I HERE?

</blockquote>

I think that you have tried to answer why you are the person you are. It's all interesting to know.

For me, though, those questions often seem a colossal waste of time and a convenient way to avoid the task of learning about the history and aesthetics of photography and putting just this kind of curiosity into photography instead of navel-gazing.

</blockquote>

Yeah, philosophers, those lazy, navel-gazing bastards. . .

Thanks for trying to answer, Fred.

--Lannie

Norma Desmond · June 24, 2016

I don't mind philosophers. Some of my best friends are philosophers. It's just that this is a photography forum and I thought we would be discussing issues as they relate to photography. You've barely mentioned it. Over and out . . . seriously . . . for the last time.

Landrum Kelly · June 24, 2016

I don't mind philosophers. Some of my best friends are philosophers.

</blockquote>

Hahahaha!

I have an eight o'clock class that goes for four hours straight three days a week--that's what happens when you put education majors in charge of a college. It's a Spanish class, not philosophy. Even I need a break from this stuff. Spanish I do for fun. Philosophy I do because I have to. Don't ask me why.

For the record, I do think that the issues that I raised do relate to photography--but I am tired of the whole issue, too.

You've barely mentioned it [photography].

</blockquote>

The thread turned very early when Leslie Cheung challenged the question and I took the bait. I didn't mind the turn, but it apparently bored most people. I'll ignore the baiting next time and see what happens.

--Lannie

charleswood · June 24, 2016

The question isn't boring, but the invariably the answers to it are.

Where I was going to go was to ask, if we accept Banaji's opinion that there are no coherent self-discriptions, is if in art we have a better chance at coherent self-descriptions?

Julie H · June 24, 2016

My inability to absorb, my genius for forgetting, are more than they reckoned with. Dear incomprehension, it's thanks to you I'll be myself in the end. — from the Unnamable

</blockquote>

Uhooru · June 24, 2016

The alchemists never found gold, but they did find science (much to their chagrin).

</blockquote>

Maybe they did find gold, but kept secret what the "gold" actually was? Was it all an esoteric metaphor?

charleswood · June 25, 2016

They did find 'gold.' But the gold they found was grace and they found that they didn't need beliefs to experience grace, where grace = philosopher's stone. Hence, they used a metaphor to conceal a heresy.

Julie H · June 25, 2016

But do you "like" gold? Shall I expound upon the color symbolism, the esoteric color complements and discordances of gold upon the mind? Its delicate flavors, its nuances, where it flutters in and out of "like"-ness?

Look at Eggleston: he does what he does because, unlike 99.9% of photographers, he actually sees, understands, feels color before, aside from, object and form -- as well as in relation to object and form.

Do you do that? Do you have a clue? Or, like so many photographers do you have no awareness at all of your response to colors as such. Do you flail sadly at the saturation slider, craving color satisfaction, like a cow licking for salt (I like that ... "cow licking for salt" -- if you guys don't bludgeon me for that one, you're all asleep ... or I bore you to tears. Perhaps a little more saturation .... COW LICKING FOR SALT ... will help. Hmmmm .... )

Landrum Kelly · June 25, 2016

I certainly did not care about getting a picture of the local Wells Fargo branch bank building, but I was happy to take their gold.

There was gold everywhere. Oh, joy!

Just seconds before, I had passed Krispy Kreme and they had kindly turned on their more-or-less-gold "Hot now!" sign, just so that I could photograph it:

Both businesses also kindly put up yellow-gold covers on the guy wires stabilizing their telephone poles. I should have sent them thank-you notes for spreading the gold around.

Rukmini also showed me the gold in her sari, but that was some years earlier:

Rukmini liked gold, too. She took a higher-paying job in Albany, NY not long after I shot this.

--Lannie

Landrum Kelly · June 25, 2016

Why do I like this picture?

I don't know. I just do. Maybe someone else can tell me why I like it. There are hints of gold and yellow (the poor man's gold) throughout.

--Lannie

Julie H · June 25, 2016

And there I am, with my white beard, sitting among the children, babbling, cringing from the rod. I'll die in the lower third, bowed down with years and impositions, four foot tall again, like when I had a future, bare-legged in my old black pinafore, wetting my drawers. — from The Unnamable

</blockquote>

Landrum Kelly · June 25, 2016

. . . wetting my drawers.

</blockquote>

Something to look forward to, I guess. . .

--Lannie

Landrum Kelly · June 25, 2016

I must have liked the poor man's gold here. There certainly is not a lot more to say for the picture:

Likewise, I'm sure:

--Lannie

Landrum Kelly · June 25, 2016

like a cow licking for salt (I like that ... "cow licking for salt" -- if you guys don't bludgeon me for that one, you're all asleep ... or I bore you to tears. Perhaps a little more saturation .... COW LICKING FOR SALT ... will help. Hmmmm ....

</blockquote>

Okay, Julie. I'll lick some salt with you, and you can get pictures of the grand event. Wear gold so that I will know who you are. Maybe we can meet on the Appalachian Trail near your house and get down on all fours and pretend we're deer justa lickin' that salt. (I don't want to be a cow.)

Now suppose you tell me what it is about licking salt that you LIKE so much this morning?

Perhaps a little more saturation

</blockquote>

Mm, what color is your salt, Julie? Is it perchance Jamaica Gold? Be careful that the entire Photo.net contingent doesn't come looking for you up on the A.T., down on all fours licking that special golden salt you love so much.

No more Jamaica Gold for that lady back there at the third table on the left. She's had enough already. She doesn't have to wear gold. We can identify her by her laugh:

<a href="

[LINK]</a>

</blockquote>

--Lannie

Landrum Kelly · June 25, 2016

http://www.photo.net/photo/7782273

http://www.photo.net/photo/18223273&size=md

charleswood · June 25, 2016

I think it is the case that we can't offer to each other a coherent worded narrative of ourselves. Since we can't offer that to each other, we can't offer it to ourselves either, you can't say what you don't know. We can attempt it with worded communication, attempt comprehending and attempt being comprehensible. I say attempt because with the OP question, we don't know why we may like this or that photograph. An example of such a worded attempt is in Fred's response to Lannie: Jun 24, 2016; 03:05 a.m. quoted in part:

...my memories of parents' and grandparents' deaths, the crush I had on Gary Schultz in Junior High School. Honestly, what do you expect me to say? Might as well ask why I am the person I am. Any question can be made metaphysically impossible to answer, extra specially deep.

</blockquote>

That's a good example of how I would respond to the question "Why do you like that picture?" Once asked why, I have no idea why. When pressed for an explanation by an inquirer, I'll produce an unsatisfying inventory of personal factors, influences that aren't really causes of the 'like effect'. When we can't explain ourselves to ourselves we can't explain ourselves to others: yet nevertheless we remain compulsive communicators as a species.

So rather than being boring, I think the OP confronts us with the fact of our own incomprehensibility. That incomprehensibility is worth exploring. That's a difficult task because we don't know what we don't know.

I'm becoming more certain that we are incomprehensible except to the degree that from necessity we cultivate imagery, metaphor, story, drama, dance, song, etc.

Norma Desmond · June 25, 2016

Yes, Charles, I was being a bit facetious in citing my crush on Gary Schultz in Junior High School but not so much when I mentioned my brother's influence on me in my formative years. I wound up "liking" a lot of the kind of visual imagery he liked because I respected him, knew he studied film seriously, knew he had a broad exposure to all types of films and photos, etc. He also helped teach me how to look . . . carefully. He showed me different connection points, helped me understand what I was looking at, put a lot of visual imagery into context for me, showed me who influenced whom and how fascinating the threads running through visual arts history could be. That was valuable and that could be expressed and comprehended. We also laughed and cried together while watching movies. We shared an emotional connection when visiting museums or looking at photo books together.

Like many other things, I believe my likes go beyond just me. There's a shared aspect to them, a cultural and community component. There IS influence. Sometimes, liking is belonging. (NOT ALWAYS!)

As opposed to any sort of serious confrontation (as you call it), the question posed here, why do I like what I like, if I got stuck on it, would be an evasion for me. What I CAN talk about sensibly and articulately is what I see in photos, how they fit into different aesthetic ideas, how I respond to them, and how they relate to others I've seen. It's all those meaningful and relevant things I shared with my brother growing up and hope to share with people here on PN.

So, yes, I wonder why I'd want instead to talk about what I can't talk about when an alternative would be to share and learn something about photos. I was able to talk concretely about the Nan Goldin photo I liked. That felt productive to me. That's what I find challenging.

charleswood · June 25, 2016

About liking a particular picture, some will answer with something like "It spoke to me." I regard that kind of answer as in part an evasion and in part as the best that words can do at times. As at times the best answer that can be produced is "I just do."

Norma Desmond · June 25, 2016

Charles, there seems to me a basic conflation running through this thread. There's a big difference between why I like a certain picture and why I like what I like.

In any case, 'the best that words can do" (to coin your phrase) is communicate meaningful things. The worst that words can do is not do much of anything.

I tried to communicate meaningful things about a picture I like. I recognize the futility of having done so in this thread.

Landrum Kelly · June 25, 2016

This was in my original post as well:

"Can anyone out there explain what makes them like a given photo, whether their own work or someone else's? Examples would be most welcome."

Had persons offered specific examples and given answers on their own terms, then something useful might have come from the OP. Indeed, it still might.

"Why" is one of those words. So is "like." They are ambiguous enough to allow persons to interpret them as they will--not all have to offer some metaphysic of aesthetics. No one has to, in fact. The questioner has no monopoly on the use and interpretation of words.

A safe way to answer any question is to word one's response in such a way that one does not become a slave to someone else's way of framing the question. Is that evasive? I don't think so. I think that doing so is an affirmation of one's own intellectual autonomy. It is a sly way of saying, "Here is my way of stating the question, and here is my answer." The fact is that, if we are cunning enough, we can escape most traps set by bullies by not even letting such tyrannical questioners know that we have reformulated the question. That is our right. The questioner does not own the question.

It's also the way I passed my preliminary doctoral exams. I had my answers, and I found a way to modify or reformulate the questions to fit my answers, or, more precisely, to show my strengths. I knew that I could not master every possible question that could be asked, and I did not even try. I also knew my strengths and my weaknesses. I found a way to answer in such a way as to show what I did know, not what I did not. That way, no one could say, "Your answer is wrong." At best they could say, "You didn't answer the question." On balance, my repertoire of responses in each sub-field was deemed adequate, and so I passed all of my sub-fields the first time. (Two attempts were allowed in each sub-field.) In only one sub-field was I challenged--by a single professor, who was over-ruled by the others. He was the youngest on the committee and, by the way, the most treacherous and most abusive.

All of us always have similar options--unless we are dealing with the cops or the Nazis. If someone gets really imperial and tries to pin us down to respond in accordance with that person's intellectual agenda, we have the option of using such a technique as I have described--or simply walking away. We have no obligation to submit ourselves to interrogation on the part of intellectual bullies--and there are many.

These discussion questions which I throw out are not intended to be interrogations or traps. They are attempts to get people to open up--on their own terms! Next time I get a bullying question as a response to my own question, I hope that I remember my own advice.

The world is full of intellectual bullies. We do not have to subject ourselves to their intellectual strangleholds, which simply reflect their worldviews and their intellectual agendas. There is more than one way to challenge both of those--their worldviews and their (often hidden) agendas.

--Lannie

Landrum Kelly · June 25, 2016

[T]here seems to me a basic conflation running through this thread.

</blockquote>

Fred, sometimes you tie yourself up in your own knots. I am not responsible for that.

You can be a bully--and were in <a href="/casual-conversations-forum/00e0HX">the preceding thread</a>. (Ask around.) I was not going to let you get away with it. I NEVER WILL.

Go back and reread <a href="/casual-conversations-forum/00e0HX">that long thread</a> where you and Julie attacked in tandem, the one where you accused me of posting soft porn. I was not going to subject myself to that crap--especially not when you posted--in the same thread--that "great work of art" of Andy in drag and displaying an erection.

--Lannie

sjmurray · June 26, 2016

"Can anyone out there explain what makes them like a given photo, whether their own work or someone else's?

Somewhere in the middle of this thread I offered a psychological explanation. Nobody responded. So, here I will offer it again, because I believe there are natural reasons for our response to any given image. Just think of all the experiences you've had in your whole life, and how they are all woven into the complexity that defines your individual uniqueness. In this uniqueness, there are emotions that correspond with events in our lives, which are encoded in the brain.

Memories of our experiences are likely characterized by representations in the form of neuronal activity. Activity among a network of neurons represents a code for the experience of, say, a birthday party. When this network is activated by some cue that triggers a reexperience of that event, we are said to have recollected the birthday party. Emotional events are often remembered with greater accuracy and vividness (though these two characteristics do not always go together) than events lacking an emotional component http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2265099/

</blockquote>

So, events in our lives that had particular impact are often connected with emotions, which strengthens the vividness or accuracy of the memory. Furthermore, these memories can be “triggered” by cues that reminds us of those memories. Visual things such as photographs, smells, sounds, etc. can all be such cues. Some things are universal, such as sunsets, which have a perhaps “archetypal” stamp on all people. Hence, some things tend to become clichés more easily than others.

My point is, that because we are all uniquely different in our life experiences, we will experience different cues that trigger various emotional responses. These responses lie deep in our memory and are subtly or not so subtly retrieved with the right cue/trigger. This is simply the way we are wired. Most of it has to do with survival and attaching emotions to the things and events that are important for survival. But, I am sure there are a broad range of experiences that become stored in memory along with the emotions that occurred during the event that are simply there, and can be cued/triggered for better or worse by some form of stimuli, such as an image. I suppose an image can trigger a negative response as well as a positive response. Anyway, this is what I thought of in response to the original question

Landrum Kelly · June 26, 2016

Steve, I think that what you are saying has a great deal of truth to it. I doubt that there is any single "global" answer that addresses all possible ways of interpreting the question--or that could satisfy all of the respondents.

--Lannie

Norma Desmond · June 26, 2016

Steve, you make many good points, though I think there will be a good deal of future orientation to these questions related to photography and wouldn't want to overemphasize memory.

I think much of the way I see relates to where I'm going as much as to where I've been. My goals, my projects, my plans, my own relationship to my own finality, death, will go into provoking what I like.

Photos I make are actions I take, leading me onward. It's a journey forward. It's the unknown and unforeseen as well as memories and the past. I think to relate to my own photos and those of others is to be open to "liking" what we do not yet know and have not yet experienced.

The photo creates that new experience which only later will become a memory. Liking becomes secondary, IMO, to taking the action of making or experiencing the picture. By the time I "like," the moment has already passed. I wonder sometimes if liking may be a weight around the neck of experience.

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