Photographing the Self: What's it all really about?

Pucker Up and Pose for a Self Portrait (Almere The Netherlands July 2013)

Do you take photographs? And if you do, have you asked yourself why you do? Have you thought about the motivations, the reasons, the end results you are looking for when you make a photo?  Of course as a social documentary/street photographer, it is part of the job description to be questioning my own motivations, my own purpose and intention, on an ongoing basis. But, I have been thinking lately about that oft quoted observation: “everyone’s a photographer these days”.

I’m not into the debate about who’s a photographer and who isn’t. I am simply interested in what all those people who are now “photographers” are doing, and why. 

First up, I thought I would find out how many photos are posted each day on the internet.  As of February this year (2015) 300 million per day were being put up on Facebook, and the latest news from Instagram reports that over 70 million photos and videos are uploaded every day to their site. When you think that these are only two of many social media platforms (not to mention other types of websites), it’s probably true to claim that the total number of photos being made and then posted to the internet every day is many times those figures: hundreds of millions of photos. Every day.

There is no doubt that the proliferation of mobile phones equipped with cameras accounts for many, even most, of these photos. And according to my research, it seems that most social media sites are experiencing huge growth in the number of photos posted. Many claim that this suggests photography as a pastime or hobby is growing ever more popular.

While this may be true, I think there is something else at work here. I believe that most people making photos today are not doing it as a hobby for pastime: for the majority “taking” photos serves other purposes. Of course I can’t speak for everyone who posts photos on social media, but I am convinced that the camera (or more often the smartphone) has become for many of us another tool we use to get ourselves noticed, to “be seen” as one writer has put it. For many the photograph is not a way to explore or view the world or even “as a way of seeing what the world looks like in a photograph” as the prolific street photographer Garry Winogrand once said of his own reasons for making photographs.

Just take a scroll through your Facebook feed, or have a look at Instagram. On both you will see untold numbers of images of food, people’s meals and desserts. You will see photos (and discussions too) of the latest clothes the poster has bought and countless photos of people’s possessions: cars, computers, sound systems; the list is endless. And then there is the ubiquitous “selfies”. What we used to call self portraits have now become less a way for us to explore ourselves and our place in the universe and more a way to compete, to show off, to tell the world what we’ve got, how “cool” we and our possessions and our lives are.

You can even buy “selfie sticks”, equipped with Bluetooth no less, for taking those photos of yourself with your phone. I see them more and more on the street. Once upon a time it was fairly common to ask a bystander or someone passing by to take your photo if you were alone and wanted to record what you were doing or where you were. Nowadays, even this sharing and connection is denied as we slip more and more into a kind of narcissism which is aided and abetted by our materialistic and status driven society.

Remember Narcissus? He was that guy who came across a pond in the forest. Kneeling down to take a drink, he caught sight of his face reflected in the smooth surface of the pond. He was so taken with his reflection that he fell in love with it. He talked to it, smiled at it and tried to convince it to return his love, but each time he reached out to touch that beautiful face in the water, the image dissolved into ripples which faded away. 

Eventually he realized that the face in the water was his own reflection but he was still so obsessed that he stayed by the pond until he starved to death (one version has it that Narcissus was so grief stricken at not being able to possess his new love that he stabbed himself).

I think the lesson from this sad story is plain. The infatuation with mirages or reflections of ourselves is not healthy. As was the case with Narcissus, we can become so caught up in the surface reflection that we present to the world that we are not able to go any further with an exploration of self. Maybe we don’t take it the extremes that this guy did (he had already rejected love from all who offered it) but a fixation on that surface reflection does lead to disconnection from others, a growing lack of empathy and an over-concern for surface appearances to the detriment of the real us and what is really going on in and around us.

Am I saying that all “selfies” are bad? Of course not. Am I saying you should never share with your friends what you had for breakfast, or your new outfit/car/whatever? No, I am not. What I am saying is this: sometimes, just sometimes, when you are tempted to take a photo of yourself or your breakfast, look around. Ask someone near to you would they mind taking the photo for you.

One more thing: Dump the selfie stick (literally and/or metaphorically) and turn the camera or your phone the other way and engage with the world.

Peace

PICK OF THE WEEK: Some scenes just make you sad

Self Portrait for Two (Melbourne Australia June 2014)

On the face of it you might not think there is much in this image to make me or you or anyone sad. Especially, you might tell me, given the number of images we are seeing everyday of people who are homeless, people who are experiencing trauma or who are in some other way vulnerable or disadvantaged. And of course, on the face of it, you would be totally correct: images of those kinds of things are distressing and make me, and you, and most likely a lot of people, very sad. Hopefully they also serve as a call to action for some of us. Hopefully photography in that context can contribute to change.

Sadly, however, far too many of the photographs I see of homeless and other disadvantaged and vulnerable people have an aura of exploitation about them. Oftentimes for so-called street photographers, these groups provide little more than "easy targets" for a "gritty and real street shot". In reality they provide nothing more than a kind of trophy for the photographer. But that is another story for another day.

Back to this photograph, made on one of the busiest corners in the CBD of Melbourne. These two people are (obviously) making a self portrait of themselves. They are standing diagonally across the road from the beautiful and historic Flinders Street railway station. A must see for tourists to the city. 

So, what is so sad here? Surely this is simply two tourists making a souvenir photo of themselves? And they are smiling aren't they? All good questions. Again, on the face of it, nothing is untoward here. And really even not on the face of it, I can't say there is anything untoward here. 

It's just that I watched them for a while as they were setting up the camera and tripod, and then the guy arranged his partner n just the right place, set the timer and joined her on the other side of the camera, and the photo was made. As they went about this process it was as if they were in a little world of their own. The crowds flowed around them, nobody (except me) even glancing in their direction. And, more poignantly, they didn't look at anyone else either in the whole time I was watching them and then making this photograph. I was about two meters away from them for five minutes and they didn't once look my way. I am quite sure they didn't even see me.  It was if they truly were alone on this busy intersection.

There just seemed to be something sad about the whole scenario. To me anyway. A sense of loneliness took hold of me as I watched them. And, really, that's all I can say. I don't have an explanation for why I felt the way I did. I mean, I often pick up emotions, become affected by what I see and feel on the street. And it's not always possible to pinpoint what causes a feeling or a sense.

Anyway, a good street photograph is one that causes an emotional reaction in the viewer. And it could be added that an even better street photograph is one that causes an emotional reaction in the photographer. One thing I can say is this: if sometimes I do have an emotional reaction to a scene I witness, then it suggests that at least some viewers will also have an emotional response of some kind. And, to me, that is a very good outcome indeed.

Peace