Photograph
April 2004

When we consider a photograph of any sort, there is the question of whether we want to be concerned with what the image is or with what the image is of. Is this a thing in itself, or is this a window to a certain set of circumstances? Should this be addressed as an image, or as a documentation of an event? Or can it be both?

These exact questions have been asked before though. From poststructuralist theory to postmodernist art criticism, and no doubt in countless other places since the development of photographic processes. Indeed, similar questions have been asked about painting. As a question, this is not novel. If anything, it’s cliché. In the art world, we don’t exactly want it anymore; it’s interesting, but not really lively or smart anymore, so we tend to forget about it if possible…. It just keeps coming back though, and sometimes in surprisingly powerful manifestations.

One route by which these questions sometimes creep back into the spotlight is a recontextualization of a photograph or set of photographs, out of the art world and halfway into something else. Out of the four shows on view at the International Center of Photography right now, three are making this kind of shift. The Klutsis and Kulagina show is very art-historically relevant, but also has one foot (and most of its weight) in 1920’s and 30’s communist political propaganda. The Art of Science show involves contemporary art-world ideas, concerns, and styles, but also involves actual scientific theory, and methods of imaging. These are both well worth seeing, and very fascinating, but next to the photojournalistic VII, they lack a certain visceral impact, and ultimately, they lack the intellectual impact as well (the fourth show, of Lazlo Moholy-Nagy’s work, which doesn’t stray from the art world at all, is all but invisible in this juxtaposition…).

The show from the photo agency VII is called “War in Iraq: The Coordinates of Conflict” – an unnecessarily gimmicky name, given that this is very powerful stuff, and very much on people’s minds right now. These photographs, from nine different photojournalists (initiated with seven, the group actually now includes ten), show us images of war and the United States from the past two and a half years. As a whole, the images in this show are on a very human level, yet they stop short of actually being too personal. Most of these are unpredictable and tragic stories of how the military operations in Iraq and Afghanistan have affected people. They are painfully real, and they are horrific – not for the guns or explosions or casualty statistics, but for the ordinary-ness of the people. There are no villains in these pictures; there are also no heroes. Everyone needs to be reminded that there is no debate over whether or not war is horrible, only over whether it is justified.

I’ll make no secret of the fact that I don’t think it is justified in Iraq, but that isn’t the subject of this essay, nor is it the slant of this exhibition. I was afraid at first that it might be; it inevitably starts to look that way when the focus is on how war affects people. Journalism does everyone a disservice if it’s biased though. Very often it is biased (though usually in the other direction), and when it happens through a photographic medium, it’s somehow particularly unethical, because photography has such a connotation of factuality. Anyone looking at a photograph has the knowledge that the image exists only because this scenario existed in the world (“doctoring” aside). This knowledge is part of the meaning of any photograph, and is the reason the question of what-it-is versus what-it-is-of has such weight. In some sorts of photographs, there is in fact an understanding that no one is meant to consider it as an image, with composition, color, form, or connotations, within a certain cropped rectangle. Ordinarily, journalistic photography is a prime example of this, so this show stands out as a strange, slightly unsettling situation. The compositions are all very aesthetically considered, the images are chosen and addressed in such a way that they convey such meaning with such intensity, but stop short of “tugging at our strings” in an exploitative way, certain juxtapositions and details are very poignant, the color is beautiful, but most of all, the setting is clearly an art museum.

This sort of presentation of these very nice-looking photographs is pointedly at-odds with the subject matter and with the dynamics of the sticky political situation. As soon as I start considering these as art-objects, I have to stop, because I feel like a horrible jerk. Here I am, taking some of my leisure time to play aesthetic connoisseur to a display of luxury art-objects…. but the images are actual documentation of terrible human suffering directly caused by the actions of my government. This is an uncomfortable position in which to find ones self, to be sure, but the end result is a renewed appreciation for the seriousness of the situation in Iraq, Afghanistan, and here, whatever side of the political fence one is on.