Today’s discussion about photography and whether or not it represents the ‘truth’ — whether we’re speaking about posed photographs or digitally altered ones — made me think more about the definition of truth than the ethical concerns of tampering with a photo. For me, it comes down to a question of what purpose the photograph serves. In the artistic sense, a photograph doesn’t necessarily need to represent an event that actually occurred; it is representational in the same sense that a painting is. Therefore, the truth we speak about in terms of art is more metaphorical or emotional truth, like the kind of truth taught through mythology. It is widely understood that the ancient myths we read never literally happened, but that they hold some sort of message or lesson we are meant to extrapolate from the story. If we are to go with that definition, the manipulation of a photograph isn’t entirely relevant.
The Barret reading, on the other hand, suggests a different type of photographic truth, mentioning that many “realists” are alarmed by digital photography because “they see it as threatening the reality base of photography.”
When speaking about documentary photography or photographs used as evidence of an event, there come some more obvious consequences with the altered image, and I think only then is this argument relevant. The photo I have taken, though, is not meant to prove anything in the literal or physical sense. It’s not captioned with a sentence exclaiming that I have found my long lost twin sister, nor have I made any attempt to even imply that there are two separate people in this photograph. One image was taken only minutes after the other, and I look the same in each. I haven’t changed my clothes or done anything differently with my hair. It was inspired, in fact, by a self-portrait created by Jeff Wall. I saw his Double Self-Portrait in an exhibition at the MoMA a few years ago, and this week’s reading reminded me of his work:
A portrait of this nature has no foreseeable ramifications, and although some of his other work (like Dead Troops Talk) has raised more ethical concerns, I would argue that his work is meant to be looked at more conceptually. In the same way, I hope that one would approach my clone shot without a negative, dismissive attitude based on the idea that I am attempting to “lie” to the viewer. In most contexts, I would be more inclined to present this photograph as one that juxtaposes two contrasting expressions and hand positions, showing multiple sides to one person. I might discuss balance and symmetry, or perhaps I might discuss the lighting, the snow, or even the slight reflection of my tripod in the window. The fact that it really consists of two different images would probably be the last thing on my mind. Ultimately, I think that truth is relative to its context, and because I am not presenting this image as one that proves any sort of reality, it does not fail to represent the truth. It might if I tried to use it to prove that I have a twin (and I don’t, but I’ve always wanted one — must why I’m so interested in clone shots), but aesthetically and in terms of representation, there is nothing untruthful about it.
I think that this is a truly interesting, and very successful image, both technically and in terms of its affect – which, even if the inspiration is the slightly disconcerting Wall image, is very different from its photographic parent. I don’t know how much this has to do with gender: there seems to me to be a muted antagonism, or at least unease, between Jeff and Jeff, whereas the relationship between Lauren and Lauren seems more inward, more reflective. Moreover one is definitely the observer (on the right), the other the observed (does that make you feel as though the “real” you is on the right, since she has more agency, or, given that your point is multiple selves, does that not matter?). but with your double portrait, I felt that there was – or was the potential for – affection, coupled with shyness – a reluctance of both halves of the self to engage, even if they’d quite like to – whereas the Two Walls look as though they might head off for a fight, or sex, or just subside into sullen silence.
I *do* love this image! – not just aesthetically, but because it makes me think – constructing a narrative between two people who don’t actually exist as two – at least, not in the sense of separate material lives.