Cho Seung-Hui's Multimedia Manifesto
Without dismissing the inexplicably tragic events that affected so many at Virginia Tech, I would like to comment upon the—as NBC anchor Brian Williams put it—“multimedia manifesto” that Virginia Tech student Cho Seung-Hui went to the post office and mailed to NBC News after the first of two horrific stages of the premeditated killings. This is important for two reasons. First, he felt that he needed to explain himself after committing a heinous crime and then taking his own life, and chose to accomplish this near-impossible task by not only including a written manifesto, but a visual one as well.
Additionally, as of today in Cho’s Wikipedia entry, the following passage appears in regard to some of the graphic plays that he wrote, which were not sent to NBC but circulated after his death: “Edward Falco, a playwriting professor at Virginia Tech, has acknowledged that Cho wrote both plays in his class. The plays are less than 12 pages long and contain several typos. Falco believed that Cho was drawn to writing, because of his considerable difficulty communicating verbally.” It is noteworthy that he appeared to have difficulties communicating verbally but still needed to express himself with different forms of language, including video and still images.
Whatever idea we may have of him from what the news reports, anecdotal evidence, and Wikipedia entries provide, we now have an even more clearly defined portrait of Cho Seung-Hui—albeit it highly packaged and constructed by the killer himself—by the inclusion of video and, more notably, very graphic still pictures. When looking at all of his manifesto together, I was affected the most by the still self-portraits, mostly pictures of Cho wielding various guns and knives in menacing and suicidal gestures. One is simply a eerie shot of meticulously arranged bullets in a grid. More can be seen
here.
One would think that video and text would suffice to explain whatever demons drove him to his awful deed, but this assumption leads to the second point of significance: the subtle differences and similarities between still pictures and video. I’ve been thinking lately about how lucky we are as photographers to deal with one frame at a time, as opposed to the range of frames per second that cinematographers deal with.
But it is precisely this working environment that forces us to slow down and make one good frame as opposed to having the flexibility (or burden, depending on how you approach this) of creating and explaining ourselves and our observations within many thousands of frames. This discussion could go on for pages, so I’ll cut it short here. However, the inclusion of specific still images with threatening gestures in Cho’s manifesto lends credence to the power of one small frame of time to convey a highly nuanced idea, and to study just a few of Cho’s still pictures is—for me—more haunting than seeing any amount of the videos he sent out into the world on his last day. How still and final his eyes are in those photos, how squarely they make contact with the lens as opposed to how downcast and avoidant they are in his videos speaks to the transmissive and concrete power that the photograph still holds, and how it continues to function as a form of language, however fragmented and difficult to translate it remains.
Labels: Cho Seung-Hui, language, still photographs, video, virginia tech
Buzz Words
I’ve been having an ongoing dialogue/running joke with one of my professors,
David Hilliard, about the certain ‘big words’ and buzzwords that people tend to use when talking about art. When I hear a good word, I write it down in an ever-growing list at the back of my notebook.
Sometimes people can use these words effectively to convey a complicated idea and delineate the genesis of the idea that eventually led to the photograph, and sometimes these words are just tossed about for pretentious effect. Like most things, a lot of it is about the context and audience and whether or not the words make sense and convey a cohesive thought to your average viewer. This same concept can be applied to analyzing the photograph itself: to which type of viewer will this photo speak the most clearly? Will your average viewer ‘get’ it? What role must the photo play—should it be understand by your average, random viewer? Does it matter how highly specialized (or not) it is? In his eight rules for writing fiction, Kurt Vonnegut's #1 is: Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
Some of my favorite words that David uses are action verbs: inform, reference, challenge. They are words that analyze the bones and structure of a photograph rather than tossing around weak, dictionary-inducing words that are more likely to alienate than enlighten your audience.
All of this ties into the concept that photography can be (and is) a certain language and can be approached as such. What I like about David's work is how he uses the language of photography to speak in complete sentences across multiple frames. Each frame can be considered a clause of a sentence, and is essential to the final comprehension of the essence of the sentence.
One of my favorite authors, Hunter S. Thompson, a producer of many prolific bodies of work, would often type out entire novels of authors he admired in order to analyze their sentence structure and flow. He also knew that finding precisely the right word for the right situation was paramount and a supreme achievement. The photographic translation of both of these concepts should be a consideration of all serious students of the lens.
Labels: action words, buzz words, david hilliard, language
Rough Beauty
Rough Beauty was a project begun in 2003 and published in 2006. Simply stated Rough Beauty is meant to be a photographic documentation of Vidor, Texas.
In my humble opinion, this collection of Dave Anderson’s work is not ground breaking, or earth shattering. This is the kind of work that should have and probably would have disappeared into oblivion if not for all the controversial racial underpinnings. I’m not saying that it’s bad work – it’s not bad, it’s just not new. I suppose one could beg the question ‘Does originality exist?’ Personally, I believe originality does exist and significant work should contain a degree of originality. Rough Beauty is an emulation of Keith Carter and Diane Arbus – and while emulation is acceptable for a student, I feel there comes a time when a professional photographer should make their own mark.
Vidor is only a short distance from where I live. Controversy has surrounded this body of work since its release. I have found the issues raised by the work far more interesting than the work itself. That said, however, not every issue is interesting. Take the issue of racism, for instance…. Yes, this area has had a history of racism, but there have been issues of racism in every part of this country. I raise the question: why Southeast Texas? I really don’t make a connection between the work and the issues of racism anyway. His subject matter doesn’t directly address racism – he chose not to photograph the Ku Klux Klan, so I feel the issue is actually a lack of diverse ethnicity.
I find the ethical dilemmas raised by this work to be the most fascinating issues. He included statements made by the people he photographed. Quotes such as “I was born down thataway ‘bout a mile in a little log cabin. My dad built it with crosscut saws and they put mud in the cracks.” or “We threw grass on the chicken’s grave and were like ‘Why’d he have to die?’” or “I been having to look for a job for a long time.” illuminate the lives of his subjects. My concern here is Anderson has comprised one version of the truth: this is one aspect of Vidor, but this isn’t all of Vidor. This work may be construed for representing a complete depiction of Vidor. In my opinion, Rough Beauty is a very narrow glimpse of an area that deserves more depth and less media hype.
Visit the
Rough Beauty webpage...
Labels: Dave Anderson, Rough Beauty, Texas, Vidor
Eyes and Brains
The principal thing that makes a good photographer is a very basic tool: a set of quick, instinctive eyes.
One of my professors quipped that our eyes have instincts that our brains don't know about yet. It's witty to say something bold like "We see with our eyes and photograph with our brains" or vice versa, but the truth of it is that it's all convoluted and meticulously intertwined. The modern human eye started out as just a collection of photoreceptors at the end of a bundle of nerve fibers. In many ways, our eyes literally and metaphorically are extensions and refinements of our brains.
Parallels can also be drawn between the lenses of our eyes and the lenses of our cameras, and the different recording mechanisms of film and the brain. Our brains can be likened to semi-permanent sheets of film, but in order to transfer our own thoughts and vision into memes and units of thought that can be transmitted between brains and minds, we must either struggle with the crude tools of language or create a picture that pulls all of the crap out of our brains and deposits it in the secure safe deposit box of film.
Labels: brains, eyes, lenses
David Levinthal
Some information on a popular contemporary photographer...
David Levinthal was born in San Francisco in 1949. Levinthal received his B.A. in Studio Art from Stanford University in 1970. He went on to earn a Masters of Fine Arts in Photography from Yale University in 1973 and in 1981 he received a S.M. of Management Science from MIT. He currently lives and works in New York.
He has participated in numerous group and solo exhibitions over the years. The most recent solo exhibitions in Texas took place in 2006. Gerald Peters Gallery in Dallas hosted “David Levinthal” and The Menil Collection in Houston hosted “Blackface”. His work has become a part of many public collections both nationally and internationally. Three public collections in Texas include Levinthal’s work: Amon Carter Museum of Fort Worth, Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth, and Museum of Fine Arts of Houston.
Levinthal does not limit himself to creating work only for art’s sake, he also creates commercial pieces. He has photographed for Absolute Vodka, and IBM. He has also collaborated for magazine spreads such as Entertainment Weekly and Wired Magazine.
David Levinthal has had 10 books published, the most recent being Netsuke.
As a child, Levinthal was completely comfortable with the ability to transform his physical environment by any means necessary. This compulsion to alter his environment translates into his method of photographing miniature worlds, which he has created. He creates these worlds by utilizing doll houses and accessories. The figurines he uses are ordered from a company in Germany that specializes in train sets.
Formally, Levinthal’s first concern is the manipulation of space, secondly light. Levinthal treats color as a means to an end. Color only heightens the theatrical sense of drama achieved by the manipulation of light.
Technically, Levinthal uses a 20 x 24 Polaroid camera. I was unable to find any documentation to verify specifically how Levinthal creates his editions. However, a Polaroid camera (complete with an operator) is available for rental. One cost effective method to create editions from a Polaroid would be to create one 20 x 24 Polaroid print, have it scanned and printed as a lambda or light jet print.
Conceptually, Levinthal uses issues that he addresses in his personal life. He is Jewish, so creating a series addressing the Holocaust is one way of exploring his heritage. He has explored cultures different from his own in his series “Blackface” and “Netsuke”. Levinthal addresses American ideals in “Baseball” and “Barbie”. Voyeurism is a conceptual element that consistently reappears. Voyeurism can be found in the series “Modern Romance”, ”American Beauties”, “Desire”, “XXX”, and “Netsuke”. Nostalgia is another popular element in his work. The figurines are in and of themselves a nostalgic component considering the fact the figurines are basically children’s toys. Nostalgic subject matter is found in his series “Wild West”, “Barbie”, and “Baseball”. One might even say “Blackface” and “American Beauties” have a nostalgic ambiance.
Check out his web page:
David LevinthalLabels: Contemporary photographers, David Levinthal
