Photographic Objectivity in Documentary Photography

Over the few weeks that I’ve been attending this course at City Lit, we’ve touched upon the subject of objectivity a number of times, and especially as it relates to photography.

What Does This Mean?
As with all subjects that get mired with academia, there are numerous definitions of what objectivity means in photography. When I looked up the subject on the Internet, I found a good article by a guy called Steve Middlehurst. He says,

“In Photography (1) Stephen Bull offers a definition of objectivity and subjectivity. He says that photographic objectivity is when the object, or subject matter, in front of the camera produces the photograph whereas photographic subjectivity is when the photographer, the subject behind the camera, has produced the photograph.”

In my field, ecommerce, there is an old but oft-quoted textbook by a guy called Steve Krug, called Don’t Make Me Think. The point is that, in Internet design, if a customer has to think about how they do something online, it’s just not simple enough. And that’s how I feel about that quotation. While I may be missing the point, even thinking about that quotation leaves me a bit confused. How would I tell if a photographer or an object has produced the photograph?

So, as I see it now, this is my Simpleton’s Guide to Photographic Objectivity.

• Has the photographer taken the shot candidly, or with the knowledge of the subject (if the subject is alive)?

• Has the photographer altered the composition in any way? For example, have they asked the subject to pose in a particular way? Have objects in the room been moved? Is the entire scene staged?

• Has the photographer altered the photograph with post-processing (be this digital or with more old-fashioned dodging and burning techniques)?

• When was the photographer shooting? What equipment were they using? What were or are the constraints around this? For example, in the early days of the photograph exposures were long and those candid moments were harder to capture

• Has the photographer captured a one-off shot, or have the images been gathered over a period of time?

• Has the photographer been paid by a particular organisation to portray a particular point of view? Have they embarked to illustrate a point or idea, or have they concluded the photographic essay with what they found along the way?

• What is the photographer’s motivation (if not paid)? Here we looked at the work of Lewis Hine, a campaigner against child labour in the United States. While the motivation may be intrinsically benevolent, it is still introducing - nay forcing - bias into the photographic process and into the minds of the viewer. In effect, it’s propaganda

• Has the photographer’s work been censored in any way? Typically we think of censorship as part of repression or wartime - you could argue it’s also part of the editorial process, of curation. A friend of mine took a selection of pictures for a documentary project, and the participants selected the shots. This is a beautiful community action, one that I really like, but did the participants “hold a mirror up to nature” - or select the shots that they believed most flattering?

Finally, a topic we haven’t touched on in class, and that is the photographer’s relationship to the subject. Taking some shots in a retirement home at the weekend, where my aunt is resident, I didn’t expect to be so overcome with my own emotion.

Should a photographer shoot subjects that are “close to home” or do they give away their objectivity in doing so? Is it ethically right to photograph people we know really well? Or is the photographic bias blown away from the outset?

Furthermore, it’s clear that the process of visually documenting aspects of life can be truly shocking. Some of the most remarkable documentary photos pivot on this - for example, the war photography of Don McCullinn. While you can hardly equate going in an old person’s home with entering a war zone, the experience did make me think about the kind of documentary projects I want to shoot. Feeling emotion is a powerful tool to creating emotion in others - but how much is too much for the photographers themselves? And how do you know when you’re about to cross that invisible line?

Steps in Documentary Photography

2020 is the year for documentary photography to begin for me. This feels like a good next step.

Why?

Street photography has taught me a lot: it’s sharpened composition skills; it’s taught me to see and react quickly to what’s happening around me. But it will never be my first love. As one of my favourite Instagrammers, @fluffystreetcloud recently said, I like to treat people on the street with the same level of respect that I would like to be paid when going about my daily life. I have never quite reconciled myself with the business of “stealing” candid shots, however much I intellectualise it.

Travel photography has long been “my thing”, borne of a desire to see the world and capture those wonderful moments you experience along the way. They are often beautiful, evocative images - but on a fleeting visit to a place, you can only scratch the surface. It’s a superficial view on a much more permanent world.

Documentary photography makes sense, then, as an opportunity to dig deeper and explore subjects and themes. And for someone who has always been heavily influenced by social history this is even more appealing.

So What Am I Doing About It?

Getting into documentary feels quite hard. What subjects should I cover? What makes a good story? How do I make contact with the right people? How do I sequence the images to make them compelling? What do I actually want the finished product to be and who do I want to see it?

To teach me and to kick-start me into action I’ve done a couple of things.

1) Joined Photo Fusion in Brixton. Recommended by a friend, Photo Fusion do a monthly Saturday photo club where members present some of the projects they’ve been working on and others give feedback. As well as this they run a lot of other photo-related services such as processing, courses on alternative film processes such as salt printing and have a lovely members’ gallery. For £60 a year membership, this is one of the best bargains around.

2) Signed up to a documentary photography course at City Lit. So far this is really interesting, and we need to create a project that we will develop over the course of the coming weeks.

Ideas

There are so many ideas and not enough time. I really like the idea of exploring identity, and how it is shaped. I like the idea of circus and performance (though access may be tricky). In this day and age of immigration rhetoric I like the idea of exploring that we are all migrants in some way, shape or form.

But the idea I want to develop is around the elderly. How they live here in the UK, the services that are available and the isolation that our First World lives bring. Shooting overseas when I travel is also a great way of adding to this work, and documenting how the elderly live elsewhere - the work shot in Romania in November is a good pre-cursor to this.

Assignment

For this week’s documentary homework we have been asked to shoot in a location that we usually wouldn’t, and to produce a more symbolic image as part of this.

It felt like the right thing to do to shoot on film and, to add to the nostalgia (and avoid delays in film processing), it was time to whip out the newly acquired Polaroid. Bought on eBay, the camera was only slightly more expensive than the film itself. (But that film is magic - it’s even got its own battery charge in it!) I didn’t read the instructions on the packet before using the film however, and waved the exposures in the air as was the fashion in our childhoods instead of letting them develop in the dark, so the results - as you can see below - are somewhat patchy and blown.

In terms of symbolism, I think the answer has to lie in the elderly themselves but as I don’t have access to a compelling subject right now I decided to make a trip to the local cemetery. It was while photographing the grave of a Vietnamese immigrant, below, that it suddenly occurred it would be interesting to document how elderly immigrants cope with not just ageing but also ageing in a community with sometimes very different norms and values to the ones they grew up in. So, this is the direction that I am going to take.

And finally, for now, I’m quite happy with my over-exposed Polaroids. They’re nostalgic, they’re a thing of the past and they are misty - like stepping back in time through eyes with cataracts. It will be good to see where this one goes, and I am excited about longer term pieces of work with a running narrative.