It was an ordinary day. Reading a "Life" magazine dated December 23, 1966 which was recently given to me by my brother, Steve. Steve had a large cardboard box of "Life" magazines that had been given to him to try and sell at one of his "Garage Sales" which he does from time to time. After looking at most of the magazines, he came across one that featured a human eye on the cover. After leafing through the magazine he realized he had to save this particular issue for me. The magazine featured a close-up of a human eye against a black background and was titled "Special Double Issue - PHOTOGRAPHY". I have loved photography since I was a small boy in elementary school. Something about pushing a button on a camera and before long having a duplicate of what I had just seen. It eventually led me to teaching photograph at the high school level in the same school district where I went to school. The "Life" magazine my brother game me featured a black cover with a large open eye, showing the lenses of the eye. As soon as he handed me the magazine I had to open it and look through it. 154 pages of photographic history opened before me (minus the advertisements). I only wished I had found it years before so I could have used it in my photography classes. The first article in the magazine was titled, "the voices of the photograph". I have taken the liberty of sharing the first paragraph with you, so you can see what I was about to read and see as I leafed through the entire magazine.
The human eye sees, the finger moves, the shutter eye blinks behind its cold lens and light explodes against the film. Then the moment is gone. But, locked now in chemical memory is a recollection of it, a fragment of time waiting to be coaxed back into two-dimensional existence, a paper-thin proof that something happened, that somebody was. Surely there is little more to most of photography than that--a chain of simple, physical events triggered by a brain's desire to make the present stand still. Yet, beyond the simplicity of its making, the image fixed by man and camera burns with a meaning and an immortality of it's own. This special issue of Life, whose 30th anniversity it marks, celebrates the many complex meanings of photography and the value of its lasting images. That of course, is the essential fact about all photography--it is a statement, and not always literal, about life. Whether one is talking about the first photograph Nicéphore Niépce took out of his attic window in France 140 years ago or about the most advanced satellite photograph of today, the truth is that both speak with a certain purity. Yet knowing how to look at pictures does not come naturally to man. Some years ago a missionary who wanted to make contact with a primitive South American tribe flew over the area first and dropped, along with gifts, several pictures of himself. He hoped the photographs would help the tribe recognize him as a generous and friendly visitor when he came in person later. Unfortunately the natives could make no sense of the shadow language of the pictures, and when the missionary arrived they ate him. The language of photography speaks in many voices to men who can understand it. The most familiar voice is still another--the voice of history. It documents the passage of men through the events and conditions that mark their moment on earth, and in doing so it tells us about ourselves, as we were and are. T'he photographer's power to interpret is also his greatest gift, and this special issue demonstrates that gift. Photographers make pictures according to their varying, human comprehensions of what they see or what they feel gives the language of photography its value. The character of the photographer--his passion, his innocence, his wisdom, his fear--is etched with the shades of light and dark on his film.
Photography has come a long way from the pin-hole camera to today's digital cameras. But, as the story read, the photographers passion, innocence, wisdom and fear still holds true today. Every time I pick up my camera, I try to recreate what I have just seen visually. I'm not always successful, but I have yet another chance to do so which isn't the case with everything in life. I keep my new "old" Life magazine on my desk next to me just in case I might want to read a particular article once again in case I may have missed something in it. And...thank you Steve for thinking of me when you pulled out this magazine from the collection you were about to sell in your garage sale. No one would have appreciated it more than I did. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.
PS - Part I of this story was posted on Wednesday, November 23 of this year in case you may want to read it once again.
No comments:
Post a Comment