Month: June 2004

Luminiferous Ether

Jeff

Luminiferous Ether

Wave Theory of Light— If we stand beside a pond of still water and throw a stone into it we shall see a series of waves passing out in concentric circles from the center of the disturbance. If there be a chip or a leaf floating on the surface it will be apparent, on watching this object, that there is no forward motion of the water itself (unless the stone be so large relatively to the pond as to cause a marked displacement of the water) but that the individual molecules simply rise and fall in the vertical direction, each communicating its motion to the next, so that the wave travels forward. The accepted theory regards the propagation of light as being due to a similar wave motion in the luminiferous ether, an invisible, imponderable substance pervading all matter, the wave motion originating in any self-luminous body.*

*One theory regards the propagation of light as consisting of a series of irregular pulses which are transformed into a simple harmonic motion on encountering any material obstacle, but since we are dealing with light only after it has encountered such obstacles the above statement may be taken as correct.

Paul L. Anderson, Pictorial Photography, 1917.

This provides an interesting contrast to the theory advanced by Oliver Wendell Holmes in 1859. Rather than particles that stick, Anderson promotes the idea of harmonic waves. It’s interesting, in retrospect, that both theories can be taken as correct. Except for the luminiferous ether part, of course. Unless you’re talking to a poet.

Liberal Education

Jeff

Liberal Education and Photography

Anderson was of the primary instructors at the Clarence H. White School of photography (whose alumni include Paul Outerbridge, Laura Gilpin, Doris Ulmann, etc.). The pedagogical methods of this school were at the cutting edge of the early twentieth century. It’s amazing to me how close the clues I’ve found towards the attitudes of this school (heavily influenced by John Dewey) match the current attitudes towards instructional practice. Anderson’s technical lectures were published in 1917, and hidden in this book is an agenda towards learning that seems, well, new and refreshing.

From the forward to Pictorial Photography: Its Principles and Practice:

In preparing the discussion of the technique of pictorial photography which is given in the following pages the author’s purpose has been to produce a book adapted to the needs of those workers, who, without wishing to undertake a study of the abstruse scientific phases of the art, nevertheless have passed beyond the elementary stages and feel a desire for pictorial expression. Every effort has been made to adapt the book to the needs of such photographers, and for that reason the author has endeavored to make clear, not only the actual technical methods, but also the fundamental principles underlying those methods, since a thorough grasp of the principles is of importance in enabling the worker to locate and correct his mistakes and also to study and to grow in power of expression, which is almost impossible when his knowledge is simply a matter of remembering certain arbitrary facts.

The book was one of a series of “practical books,” but Anderson’s foreword makes it clear that he is not talking about strictly theory, but what is labeled in modern educational circles (at least in rhetoric) as praxis—theoretically informed practice. Other books in the series (which I have not examined) include The Practical Book of Early American Arts and Crafts, The Practical Book of Architecture, The Practical Book of Interior Decoration, The Practical Book of Period Furniture— the picture should be fairly clear. Even historical topics are taken as matters of practical importance.

There is much to be said about the contents of the book, but for the time being I have posted a gallery of the “practical” examples contained in the book by leading pictorialist photographers. The conclusion of the book reflects deeply on the state of education and the arts, and provides what seems to me to be fairly sensible advice. Here, Anderson lays the ground work for his 1919 book The Fine Art of Photography, which deals with composition. I will discuss that one at greater length sometime soon, but it may take a few days to process the wonderful nuggets contained in Pictorial Photography. Anderson’s conclusion not only addresses the importance of “design” and the utility of studying reproductions, but also contemplates the nature of “genius” and its relation to the arts:

Continue reading “Liberal Education” →

Convergence

Jeff2 Comments

Convergence

The changes in representation and communication which are affecting alphabetic writing have not run their course by any manner of means. The technological changes, as much as the new economic and social conditions which are affecting forms of representation, are still ongoing, at a pace and in directions which will lead to further profound changes. In this respect the convergence of media is a major factor. . . . All we can do at the moment is to look at what there already is, and extrapolate a little; what appears looks very different from that which has been.

The major task is to imagine the characteristics of a theory which can account for the processes of making meaning in the environments of multimodal representation in multimediated communication, of cultural plurality and of social and economic instability. Such a theory will represent a decisive move away from the assumptions of mainstream theories of the last century about meaning, language and learning.

Gunther Kress, Literacy in the New Media Age, 168

I’m not sure about Kress’s assertions here at all. I think that he has targeted the correct “agency”—the convergence of media. I think that he has established the requisite “scene”—the flux of cultural change which destabilizes acts of representation. However, Kress makes little mention of the “actors” involved. Who is it that makes meaning? Obviously, given that the book is targeted at educators, Kress might assume that teachers do. That isn’t necessarily a safe assumption.

In “The Impact of the Internet and Digital Technologies on Teaching and Research in Technical Communication” (in the latest TCQ), Laura Gurak and Ann Duin suggest that the slow adoption of technology in academia opens a window of opportunity for corporate vocational educators to compete with traditional academic “providers” of education. I think this is a more “decisive move” than the move away from the supposed “assumptions of mainstream theories” regarding meaning, language, and learning. The core of the movement (which manifests itself in many ways across the twentieth century) is based on pragmatic view of meaning—learning is something that earns “profit” in some form. The convergence of media is seen, by both learners and providers, as an agency for economic, rather than social change. The basic yardstick for vocational education is that of “competence”— learners are tested for their ability to perform tasks.

Kress suggests that this sort of thinking should be replaced with a more “design oriented” mode:

The notion of competence in use will give way to that of interested design. Competence in use starts with that which exists, shaped by the social history of the group in which the user acts. Hence competence in use is oriented to the past. It is also oriented to allegiance to the conventions of the group. Design, by contrast, starts from the interest and intent of the designer to act in a specific way in a specific environment, to act with a set of available resources and to act with an understanding of what the task at hand is, in relation to a specific audience. Design is prospective, future-oriented: in this environment, with these (multiple) resources, and out of my interests now to act newly I will shape a message. (169)

From 1900-1940, photographic educators published as many books about “composition” (design) as they did about “grammar” (chemical processes). Their approach to design was sophisticated and comprehensive. Many of the books were about a very specific type of technical communication (advertising), and the lessons there say a lot about the confluence of media types. I do not believe that the emphasis on design promoted by Kress is nearly so new and revolutionary as he thinks it is. We went through all this at the turn of the previous century. It doesn’t really look that different to me at all. The emphasis on design is not, in my opinion, a purely “future-directed” phenomenon. Design is as much about establishing continuity with the past as it is solving problems in the present. This sense of continuity is missing from most of the discourse about “new media.” Some things are different, yes, but the basic theories? I really don’t think they’ve changed all that much—I think we need to find the convergences as much as the divergences.

Lilly Cigar

Jeff1 Comment
Lilly Cigar, or perhaps I should have titled it “How many compositional rules is it possible to violate in a single image?”

Lilly Cigar

Thinking about a bizarre transition I made as a photographer, I started thinking about a band named Lilly Cigar. The night after I decided that I wouldn’t do infrared photography in bars anymore, but would use traditional flash instead, I went out to shoot them. They were a bunch of Bakersfield, California, guys that were usually fun. I shot photographs of them many times, mostly when I was just feeling restless and stressed. It was sort of like watching cartoons. Presented for your amusement: The Lilly Cigar Gallery.

I think the first time I saw them, I had walked into a little club called “Sharks” at around five-thirty in the afternoon. They were onstage, and sloppy drunk. I’ll never forget the singer flaunting that fact, yelling “We’re drunker than you are!”

These guys were like an advertisement against taking anything too seriously. The guitarist was just, well, earnest. But the rest of the guys—I think they were just in it for the free beer. As for their name, I never bothered to ask why. Some stories are probably best left untold.

Boxes

Jeff

Boxing

Progress weeding my photographs is slow. The thing that bothers me is that every few images, I stumble into someone who is dead or dying. I never really bought into Susan Sontag or Roland Barthes’ idea that photography is about death. Photographs were always about being alive to me. To break the introspection, I’ve been boxing books. I suppose I’m about halfway done with that. The tally thus far, in standard file-storage boxes:

  • 3 boxes of books on art

  • 9 boxes of books on photography

  • 3 boxes of books on William Blake

  • 5 boxes of books on British literature

  • 1 box of books on American literature

  • 1 box of books on classical literature

  • 1 box of books on foreign literatures

  • 1 box of dictionaries and atlases

  • 1 box of general history books

  • 1 box of books on the history of journalism

I haven’t got to most of the twentieth century American lit yet, nor the books on theory. But I am happy to see that I actually own more books of literature than I do theory. I’m not that big of a geek yet.

Anonymous

Jeff
Name that Singer!

Anonymous

Some people find photographing rocks, flowers or trees relaxing. Others might go for old pick-ups or double-decker busses. For me, it was always bands. Maybe it’s because I always liked being under the influence of music. It was a weird compulsion that I really don’t have anymore. The thing that has always puzzled me about this sort of “hobby” is the preference among most people for celebrity images. I suppose it went through an unusual arc for me—from an artistic pursuit, to a way of making a few bucks to support my photographic habit, and finally into a “hobby” of sorts. Photographing bands was what I chose to do to relax. So, the more anonymous the band was the better—sometimes celebrities were fun, but more often they made me feel like a paparazzi.

I gave photography up around 1997 as I got more serious about school. I was digging through some old pictures, tossing out the mildewed ones from the floods that have occurred in the last few years when I found some images of one of the last bands I shot. The female singer was the “celebrity” of sorts—as I recall, she was part of a Lilith Fair tour. But I can’t for the life of me remember her name. Anyone out there know?

I put together a gallery of the images of this mystery band, as part of my current project to stuff my life into little boxes and move it. There will be a bunch more things like this in the next few weeks (I hope). My memory has been fading about a lot of the images I’ve made, so I was thinking if I blogged them it might help.

Focus

Jeff

Focus

I seem to have gained and lost focus at the same time. I just bought a sangria-red ZX-5 (which the girlfriend wants to name Velma), but at the same time I momentarily forgot what I was doing. I was having a thought . . . and then real life rushed in. I think I’m having a Jeff Lebowski moment.

Perhaps it was a mistake to convert the six-CD Creedence Clearwater box set to MP3s right away to take advantage of the built-in MP3 player. I’ve started eyeing the 400 watts worth of Linear Power amplifiers that have been gathering dust on my shelf for around six years. But, since I think I’ll probably be making the twelve-hour trip between here and Minneapolis several times in the next couple of months . . . Technology is fun. I’m really starting to get into the whole itunes thing; watching songlists pop-up when I insert obscure Television bootlegs is an awe-inspiring thing. But, I was thinking of something else before all this happened.

Maybe it had something to do with the perception of images as “signals” around the dawn of wirephoto in the early 1930s. In essence, that is what music is becoming— songs can be identified by “codes” in a database. The presence of information as pure signal is one part of the dissemination of images in the early twentieth century. But I think Michael Carlebach, in Photojournalism Comes of Age, goes over the top:

Most professional photographers in the early twentieth century wore their anonymity proudly, like badges. In a six-part series published in the Photographic Times magazine in 1905, a news photographer carefully avoided giving the reader any clue to his or her identity; the author of the series was simply “one of them.” References to newspapers were similarly oblique. It was the profession and the images that ran on the printed page that counted, not the identity or character of the person behind the camera (3).

I think that this picture of journalism as a cohesive profession that thought of the value of its “information” as something existing outside of any name recognition is positively ludicrous. Newspaper reputations were built on having star writers, at least—the scandal over the faked European news bureau in the Hearst papers of the 1920s comes to mind. They often attached names to prestige coverage. Thinking of the Collier’s coverage of the Sino-Japanese war (1894-1895) it seemed absolutely imperative that not only the writers were presented on the scene in pictures, but also the photographers to grant credibility to their coverage. There was nothing “anonymous” about it at all—except, perhaps, the absence of individual credit lines for photographs. Actually, from the Civil War onward, the public was used to knowing where their news-dispatches came from.

Carlesbach’s creative re-write of the situation seems to fall in line with the current tendency to want to separate form from content. Journalism, at one extreme, is seen as content without form. Modernist photography, on the other hand (and in the same period) is seen as form without content. Perhaps the unique thing about pictorialism is its retrograde insistence on an organicist notion of cohesion between the two. I think part of the problem of separating things out so neatly is the ethical dilemma involved—if the message is only a signal, then the sender is not responsible for its interpretation. Or, alternately, if the image is only an exercise in form, then culpability for the images content is similarly limited. What does it matter if the image sells insincerity? Isn’t it just meant to be arresting?

I was thinking about this while I was waiting at the car lot. Reagan’s funeral was the only thing on TV. It’s hard for me to avoid sounding callous about the whole thing. I genuinely disliked the man, from the time he was governor of California. Actually, his budget cuts were part of what forced me to drop out of school many years ago. I began to wonder why Nancy didn’t arrange a world tour for the body—prop it up at the site of the Berlin wall, photograph it in front of the Kremlin— after all, a funeral is just an exercise in form. The content doesn’t matter that much at all. Surely we must comfort the grieving world. People will debate what the actual legacy (signal) of the Reagan presidency was for a long time. The funeral is and should be a separate issue.

When form is writ large, it is hard to discern the signal.

Clarence White

Jeff
Clarence H. White, Nude Study, 1909

Clarence White

I never paid much attention to pictorialism when I was younger. My standard disclaimer when people wanted me to photograph things was “I don’t do fuzzies.” Now, I find myself captivated by the transition between pictorialism and modernism. I think part of the problem is my distaste for Steiglitz; the more I read about him, the more I find out what a misogynist misanthrope he really was. The weird thing, researching it now, is figuring out that Clarence White, Alvin Langdon Coburn, and Steiglitz basically lived in the same area of New York at the same time. Their aesthetic and personal proclivities couldn’t be more different.

Interestingly, White and Coburn changed with the times whereas Steiglitz kind of went into stasis. Traditional surveys of the history of photography talk mostly about Steiglitz; one quickly figures out when you read much about him, why O’Keefe ended up in the desert. To grow, you really had to get away from the man either physically or psychically. White was a teacher who never really left pictorialism behind the way Steiglitz and Coburn did; but what White got away from was the notion of the “artist” popularized by Steiglitz and Coburn. White’s primary impact was as a teacher who was able to reconcile conflicting trends in artistic practice in his curriculum—by teaching them as tools suited for different “problems.”

White never devalued or berated anyone. He taught small classes, primarily composed of women. He thought photography was a profession well-suited for women. He interestingly seems to have developed quite a “queer contingent” around him too. I wish I knew more about him, but most books which deal with him are focused mostly on the impact of his school. He’s another name on the list of books that need to be written—along with (oddly enough) Dorothea Lange, who deserves a truly detailed scholarly biography. Most books on either of these people are skeletons, begging for some flesh.

All I’ve really managed to do is whet my appetite for information on White by constructing a slight skeleton of my own on my research site. I’ll do Lange eventually, but before I do that, I also need to deal more fully with Doris Ulmann. The figures in photography that interest me most right now are the ones who thought that photography could have an impact beyond creating decorations to hang over the sofa. The pictorialists, much to my surprise, actually did have more impact than the staunch modernists. They provide an interesting counterpoint to the emerging photojournalists because they were design-centered rather than content-centered. They actually tried to strike a balance between the two, at least towards the end of the movements tenure.

White and Lange

Jeff1 Comment
Ron Partridge, Dorothea in the Kitchen, 1936

Homework

I’ve been trying to piece together some things. It’s particularly difficult with the people I want to know about at the moment—Dorothea Lange and Clarence H. White. I have yet to find a decent biography on either of them. Lange has many books written about her, but amazingly nearly all of them (except Photographs of a Lifetime) are written for juvenile audiences—not exactly what you would call rigorous scholarship. However, images by and of Lange are easy to find. Exactly the opposite is the case with White. Though he was a prolific photographer, it is much easier to find work by his students than by him. Biographical information on White is fairly easy to find, but I could only piece together a gallery of fifteen images.

It’s interesting to me that Lange would be such an iconic figure for authors of juvenile literature. She had polio as a child, and had great difficulty in school. She barely passed high school, and though she enrolled in Columbia Teacher’s College, she dropped out to become a photographer. She attended one class at the Clarence White School of Photography, but never completed any of White’s assignments. They are especially proud of that fact in the extant biographies. A perfect role model for children—a woman who never did her homework.

Gender and Politics

Jeff1 Comment

Gender and Politics

While I generally don’t say much about the gender and technology issues which fuel many of the people I read, or politics either—another favorite topic of many blogs I read— one of the blog threads now dying made me raise an eyebrow, Spock-like. Ms. Lauren wrote a nice attempt to quit obsessing about the latest permutation:

I don’t believe that female bloggers are so much entitled to higher readership and recognition as much as female bloggers are taken less seriously and relegated to second- and third-tier status. Various possible reasons have been cited for this phenomenon elsewhere on this blog and on others, but for the sake of time management, I’m not able to address this at this time. I think it’s more a reflection of several negative cultural values than a phenomenon that occurs on it’s own and brands others as “evil male chauvinist pigs,” as one commenter said.

. . . Call me Nostradamus when I predict that the question will be asked again by December.

The struggle to maintain visibility for women’s opinions seems to be a never-ending task. I was shuffling through some old articles gathered for my research and found “Political News and Female Readership in Antebellum Boston and its Region” by Ronald and Mary Zboray [Journalism History v. 22 (Spring 1996) p. 2-14]. Here’s the abstract:

The writers examine collections of Boston-area family papers containing references to women reading political news or otherwise demonstrating women’s awareness of events. They explain that although the women considered led mainly domestic lives, they were rooted in a familial or local culture that supported women’s participation in Whiggish, liberal Protestant, antislavery, and temperance causes. They find that these women exchanged news stories with men and other women and often made extensive commentary on newspaper reports of political events. They conclude that future historians should avoid assumptions that women in general were not devoted readers of newspapers and knowledgeable consumers and producers of political culture.

This debate does seem to return, over and over again. There is something deeply illogical about it. The less “visible” segments of society are often seen as totally unconcerned with the topics that those in power push. Why is it that historians (current and past) want to paint women with invisible paint? I just don’t get it—it makes the “conspiracy theories” of gender seem credible. However, as Barb L’Eplattenier used to be fond of pointing out—I’m a card-carrying member of the patriarchy, therefore my incredulity is understandable. I wish there was someplace I could burn that damn card. I didn’t volunteer— I was drafted.