Review: Clarke, The Photograph, Chapter 2: How Do We Read a Photograph, 1997

In How Do We Read a Photograph Clarke claims that we don't just look at photographs, we read them.  He introduces French literary critic Roland Barthes, who in the early 80’s published what has become an iconic text in photography studies, Camera Lucida.  Barthes argues for a two-layered conception of the reading process, one that begins with what he calls the studium, our first impression of the image.  This might be more akin to looking, to acquiring a general impression.  Should we take time to linger, we may notice a small detail, something that draws us into the photo, something that when followed leads to exploration and new discoveries.  This Barthes calls the punctum - the puncture, the hole down which we fall into the image.  I’ve had this experience for perhaps as long as I have read photos, but I never conceptualized it, never named it.  It happened to me most recently when reading one of the images in this chapter, Arbus’ Identical Twins.  What drew me in were the eyes.  One set heavy, the other wide.  And from there I began to notice other differences that suggested these twins were not so identical.

As in reading text, reading photos is an active process of decoding and interpretation.  Much of what we get out of them depends on our assumptions.  This is clearly evident in Clarke's reading of two Arbus images.  In Identical Twins he sees the angle of the path occupying a tiny sliver at the bottom of the photo reflecting "Arbus' approach to her subject matter...[looking] at it askew, even askance."  Of A Family on Their Lawn, he writes that the separation of the couple "is made obvious by the way in which their lawn chairs are presented formally to the camera, with the round table between them: a circular reminder of unity and wholeness, although the slatted lines imply a rigid familial and psychological geometry...." I don't wish to deny Clarke his reading.  He brings his own education, history and interests to the images.  I would suggest only that perhaps he reads too much into them and thereby overburdens the images.  After reading Clarke, the photos seem to no longer speak for themselves.  Clarke might argue that my idea is reflective of my own assumptions and with this I would have to agree.  I admit to being suspicious of over-intellectualization, which is suggestive of insecurity and a need to impress.  Perhaps I know this well because I had such needs myself at a younger age.

Helayne Seidman / Washington Post 

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09 July 2012

I’ve acquired a copy of Barthe’s Camera Lucida and discovered a bit more of the studium and punctum.  The former Barthe refers to as more than a disinterested glance, but something on the order of liking or disliking, “a very wide field of unconcerned desire, of various interest, of inconsequential taste.”  It requires a shared cultural context between the creator and the spectator.  Barthe argues this includes an understanding – explicit or implicit, he doesn’t say – of the creator’s intention, by which I assume he means the cultural context within which we can enjoy – or dislike – any particular image (or work of art).  In addition, the studium requires “a general enthusiastic commitment;” that is, it requires the volition of the spectator.  In contrast, the punctum “rises from the scene,” a nonvolitional accident that disturbs the studium and leads the spectator deeper into the image.  

For more on Barthe’s discussion, see pages 25-28.

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