Unerstanding A Photograph

I had some hope of enlightenment about the theoretical underpinnings of photography from John Berger' book, Unerstanding A Photograph; his writings are often mentioned in discussions of the topic.  I was disappointed, less for his efforts rather than by my own state of readiness to accept his approach perhaps.  I just don't have any patience for the philosophical navel gazing style.  

The Aperture publication is a compilation of Berger's articles, starting off with a 1967 picture of then recently-dead Che Guevara. Berger's comparison of the picture to Rembrandt's "Anatomy Lesson" seemed apt and the discussion pointing to the vital place of the photo's viewers in forming the ultimate meaning of the image is useful.  However, the author's white heat anger about American Imperialism in the midst of the Vietnam war seems jarring at this remove, and it detracts from the article's purpose.  Still not a bad beginning, but it did not lead me to where I was hoping to end up.

 

Berger makes the obligatory nod to the subject of whether or not photography can be considered Art and he references the tired idea of its  capacity for infinite reproduction. That is banal truth which does not limit commercial possibilities.  It ignores the fact that the print which is the ultimate product is very often the end result of a complex process such as that required to make a palladium print, or the simple fact that a polaroid print is often a one-off item. I think the line of argument basically shows that Berger was not a practicing photographer.

The bigger problem about photography as art in Berger's exposition -- along with so many others -- is that a thorough definition of Art in modern societies is missing.  For what it is worth, my own definition of a Fine Art object is one with no useful function which nevertheless has commercial value for people with too much money who are seeking a status badge. Perhaps not the last word on the subject, but at least I made the effort.

Berger nearly redeemed himself for me with his unequivocal praise of two of my great favorite photographers, W. Eugene Smith and Paul Strand. I'm sure there are a lot of other admirable qualities to be found in Berger's writings by those with more patience and knowledge than me, but I may not live long enough to discover them.