I'm in the minority on this issue, as usual. I think that most good
photographs are probably lies, and that the better a photo is the
bigger chance that it misleads the viewer as to the nature of what
was going on before the camera at the 'decisive moment'.
This whole issue of authenticity in photography strikes me as a not
very productive form of athleticism. Speed and grace in dance, as an
instance, may or may not make a visible contribution to the dance;
speed and grace, and we should probably add luck, in a photograph can
certainly contribute to its success, but almost never visibly. The
Doisneau photograph under discussion is a case in point. Nobody
realized it was posed for decades. How many other good or great
photographs have similar antecedents? Ultimately, why should it
matter?
I tend to think that the discontinuity between what we photograph and
what it appears we have photographed is one of the most interesting
issues in photography.
I'm also fascinated and somewhat bewildered by the degree to which
people are upset when photographic lies are uncovered. Does this mean
that people think that photographs accurately represent something
beyond the surface of things, that deeper meanings are photographable?
--
Alan P. Hayes
Pittsfield, Massachusetts
<http://www.meaningandform.com/photography>
<mailto:ahayes@berkshire.rr.com>
