This is a funny little thing:
I had my leaving drinks tonight (a fact which my friend Eddie couldn’t quite get his head around. “You’re only going for two months? And you’re having leaving drinks?!”). Anyway, I took my camera along with me to take photos, expecting full well to upload one or two here tonight.
Only: I didn’t take any photos.
Yet cameras symoblise that - and I’m about to use the ‘d’ word - dichotomy.
They symoblise taking part in the world. Interacting in, and connecting with, it. I took my camera because I wanted to capture this event and the people involved in it. And yet it never left my bag. Because I was, exactly, interacting and taking part in my world. I was so involved in it that it didn’t occur to me at any point to stand outside of it and take pictures thereof.
There’s one dichotomy.
And the other (does that make it a trichotomy?): you also don’t record the world when you’re not connecting with it.
ie: A lack of pictures can mean the exact opposite of the above. A lack of involvement.
Hmmm.
And thus endeth the Thought For Today. (That’s right, that thought is: “Hmmm”.)
I would write more, but I’m terribly tired. Thank you so much to all those who came out to play tonight. I would love to show you the photos, but unfortunately I don’t have any.
January 25th, 2008 at 11.38am
Hey lovely, sorry I couldn’t make it last night - I’ll bell you later.
I think it was Sartre, of Left bank fame, who said something along the lines of ‘if you’re conscious of doing something, you’re no longer doing it’ & people who ceaselessly snap photographs are permanently anticipating remembering - which can be very detatched & dull & tedious & im happy to hear you left that gadget in le sac!
Anyroad, speak in a bit XXXX
January 25th, 2008 at 1.56pm
What happens if you use the timer on your camera? Or for that matter take one of those photos where you hold the camera at arm’s length and point it at yourself? That’s being involved ain’t it?
January 25th, 2008 at 2.14pm
Good point. Although there’s always a) the very deliberate moment that you set the timer, and b) the way you hold your arm out, trying to make sure you’re pointing it at exactly the right angle. Of course, it doesn’t matter how many times you may try b), as you will always get it wrong, and inevitably give up after approximately the third attempt. Normally with a shrug, and an “oh well, that’ll do”.
January 25th, 2008 at 2.17pm
You could always sit on your arm till it goes numb, then it would be like someone is else taking the picture.
January 25th, 2008 at 2.54pm
From the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle (if I remember rightly) you can’t take a photo without being involved in what’s going on. The photons of the subject actually enter the camera and so by virtue of this the subject actually changes and so one is involved.
I’ll get me coat…
January 25th, 2008 at 2.57pm
…yes, and doesn’t it steal your soul, too?
January 25th, 2008 at 3.22pm
Graham, you are obviously familiar with that old trick, but I suspect it isn’t for taking pictures…
Yes I agree with everything you say Andrea, this is why it infuriates me when people constantly snap away with their phones at gigs. JUST ENJOY THE FRICKIN’ GIG WILL YA!!! What’s wrong with your memory? Why do you have to record it?* Drives me up the wall. One of the greatest days of my life was at LiveAid but I resist watching it again on DVD etc. because I’d rather cling to the (rosey and unreliable) memories of what I believe I saw rather than what I actually saw.
All memories should be rosey and unreliable, no? Pictures only serve to remind us how much we have forgot.
*Which reminds me of the time I went to see Springsteen in a souless sports arena in North Carolina and the guy in front filmed the whole lot on his video camera. Why didn’t he just buy a concert video? He also left (presumable to miss the traffic) during the encore when Bruce was belting out ‘Born to Run’.
I’ll say that again. He left during the encore when Bruce was belting out ‘Born to Run’.
January 25th, 2008 at 3.44pm
Say that again, Jack?
Yes, I’ve realised since starting to take photographs that if I’m really happy and really involved in an event, I don’t want to - or indeed, forget to - take pictures of it. (But if I’m happy and involved, I probably will.)
Similarly, I’ve noticed that I don’t take pictures when I’m feeling sad. As I say above, disengaging from the world and its events leads to not wanting to photograph it/them. (So a note to friends: if I’m not taking photos, it’s likely to mean that I’m not happy. Think of it as an early warning system).
It’s occurred to me that this need/ability to slightly ‘remove’ oneself from the world is quite a male trait. Hence men tend to be the ones wielding cameras/camcorders at events - they like being (or perhaps, more accurately: seem to be more comfortable being) detached. It’s the same need/ability which leads them to go off into their shed/to the toilet/to the other room to watch The Game for however long they please. They want to remove themselves, and are giving carte blanche to do so because That’s What Men Do. I’ve always rather envied it, and have definitely felt empowered to behave more like this - more like a man? - through starting to take photographs. It’s really quite liberating.
Any thoughts, fellas?
January 25th, 2008 at 4.18pm
I know the trait that you speak of although as I live on my own I don’t have to go into the other room for as long as I please to remove myself. I can remember my Dad doing stuff like that when I was a kid.
January 25th, 2008 at 4.54pm
Well why don’t they go to their shed and take pictures then and stop ruining my night out?
I’d really, really like a shed though. A nagging wife and two whiney kids make it appear very attractive
January 25th, 2008 at 4.55pm
Oh and that need for detachment IS a male trait. The most extreme example of it manifests itself in autism.
January 25th, 2008 at 5.09pm
Not interacting with your shed. Now that would be truly, uber, male.
January 25th, 2008 at 5.19pm
I agree Andrea. My mother displayed such a gratuitous measure of feminity, she spent her the entirety of her life in the one room. Was the kitchen I think, or maybe the downstairs hallway.
January 25th, 2008 at 5.20pm
Grayham: What happens if you use the timer on your camera?
Sarah: Well then you’d be anticipating, anticipating remembering & u would most certainly not be authentically experiencing the thing to seek to capture & show others later
Shit, I didn’t realize I felt so strongly about this, I may have to draw up a manifesto…
January 29th, 2008 at 3.36pm
[…] given this post, maybe I […]
January 29th, 2008 at 7.36pm
[…] true to this post’s form, I didn’t take any photos. I figure I’ve got two months to do that […]
March 31st, 2008 at 10.05pm
I am lost too, though not in transposition (whatever that means), I think.
I posted comment at the wrong place (Jazz.com) the first time, then found my second comment under Pork Blood! Then I tried to look for your pic for my blog and only found one taken with a large group! The one in one of your blogsites (where it lists your future events) cannot be copied, I think.
Just read about your being detached and not happy which explained your not taking pictures and I think it has to do with your career… probably you are trying so hard not to get involved with people you have met because you are afraid to miss someone you fall in love with while travelling here there and everywhere!
Once bitten twice shy kind of thing. To quote William Hung, “I have no professional training!” If it makes you laugh, it is good enough for me!
April 1st, 2008 at 2.08am
thank you KS - for this and your other comment. there are actually a couple of pics of me on this blog (as in: my face, not just my bottom
), if you hunt around… but I will post one more tonight. I guess this experience has been about what I’ve seen; and taking photographs is most certainly about what I see… hence me not being in them ;-). I’m sure that if I travelled more, and performed abroad a lot, for instance, then what you say about being detached/unhappy and my career could make sense. but actually, the two aren’t connected - so far, at least - as this is the first time I have travelled with my work.