 |
Do Not Touch
By Pedro Meyer By
now I have heard so many arguments about the intrinsic advantage of
the "real" gallery space over the internet variant, that I
find it deserves looking into in more detail. One recurrent theme that
comes up is the idea related to touching photographs.
As there are many
sides to this issue, I will arbitrarily start by looking at the sensorial
nature that is being allegedly lost. I wonder when it was the last time
that anyone reading this was allowed to "touch" any of the
pictures in a traditional gallery or museum. To the best of my knowledge
photographs are for the most part protected under glass or acrylic when
exhibited in such spaces; or when one is invited to view a print that
is not mounted, out come a pair of white cotton gloves to avoid coming
into direct contact with the photograph. So obviously there are definite
boundaries to this issue of touching which always seem to be forgotten.
Not all photographic
images we get to look at are in the form of prints. There are also the
transparencies or slides mounted on cardboard or plastic; or we have
the negatives ( color or black and white) mostly to be seen through
a protective envelope. In a very strict sense, in none of these instances
we get to actually touch the image. What we do touch, if at all, is
the support or strata on which the image is deposited. The image is
obviously not something that our fingers can wander across. The image
as such only takes a physical reality within our brain cells.
This actually is
a very interesting notion, because if we can never touch an image in
it's present analogic iteration, what is all the fuss about when it
becomes digital? The idea that because it is now digital it becomes
an untouchable presentation is actually not the case. Not because it
is "touchable", because it isn't, but because it was never
the case before either. In other words, there has been no real change,
we are just touching different things, different strata. That on which
an image is deposited.
For instance, instead
of a frame we now have a monitor. In both instances the image is below
a protective surface, be that glass or plastic. We can print an image
today much as we could yesterday. When the photograph is made with a
digital camera, the electronic file is obviously not something that
I can touch, but then neither is a negative. Or one would imagine that
you never want to touch your negatives, even if you could just because
the strata allows that to happen. Which leads us to wonder why all this
nostalgia about touching, when to begin with, everything we are taught
to do with pictures is about "not touching". Do not touch
the negative, the slides, the prints. All for good measure of course,
but in fact it is all about not touching. So now that we have the means
to actually work with images without having to worry about our direct
physical contact, the first thing that so many bring up is this longing
for a sensorial contact which never existed in the first place.
Today the image
is as much under "glass" (monitor) as when the thing hung
framed on the wall. However there is one very important advantage to
the digital image when seen on a screen: it is back lit. The actual
tonal range that a photograph can offer when viewed on the computer
screen is larger than when the same image is printed out on paper. The
same thing happens when you view a transparency on a light box, and
then compare it to the print made from that same photograph. The first
always looks to have more depth to it.
However let me
introduce a new concept into this equation. The longing to touch an
image can actually be done in ways never ever thought possible before.
Today, when I have a digital photograph up on the screen, I as a photographer
can with the aid of my mouse, or stylus, touch and transform every single
pixel of the image, in ways that have no correlation to any previous
experience. I certainly never had the tools to touch every single grain
within a traditional photograph.
The action of transferring
the pressure from my finger on to any portion of the image has no parallel
in chemical based photography. I can darken a single pixel if I want
to, by just placing the right amount of pressure -with the chosen tool
to do so- through the use of my fingers.
The sensorial transference
from my hand to the image, by way of the mouse or pen, is beyond any
previous experience in the field of photography. So who said you can't
touch a photograph? Or think about the touch screens where viewers are
actually encouraged to touch the image, precisely the opposite to the
notion of "do not touch".
Pedro Meyer's photographs are found in the collections of more than 40 major museums throughout the world. He's also authored several books, including Los Cohetes Duraron Todo el Dia; Tempii di America; and Espejo de Espinas. His column appears each month in Camera Works.
|
 ©Pedro Meyer 2001
|
|||||||||||||||||||
