Response to Rubinstein and Sluis,’ A Life More Photographic

Rubinstein and Sluis offer an interesting take on the digital “revolution” that reflects not only on the development of digital technology as a point of departure from traditional and largely inaccessible darkroom photography, but also on the integration of the Internet and the community, or network, that is created around shared images.

One theme that I found particularly interesting, which was continually referenced throughout the text, was the concept of the image or photograph having a certain “fluidity” throughout this digital revolution, as referenced on page 13: “As Daisuke Okabe has noted, currently the most fluid and immediate sharing of images happens when images are shared directly via the camera’s screen (2, 9).” The idea that images taken by and viewed on a camera speaks to this fluidity or quick “ease” in experiencing the photograph taken. This fluidity reminds me of two photographic processes that could perhaps represent a bridge between traditional darkroom photography and the “instant gratification” of a digital image and being able to immediately view the photographic results: The photo-booth photograph and the Polaroid photo (The photo-booth picture attached in this blog is of myself and three of my closest friends. We took several photographs in that booth, trying to “out-do” previous attempts in capturing a unique photo-booth picture).  I see these two processes as representing the flux between the chemically-processed, darkroom photograph (which one would have to wait at least an hour to view) and the instant ability to see a photograph (which one would only have to wait one or two minutes to view). There were, no doubt, other photographic processes that could be seen as stepping-stones between these two modes of photography, but what interests me about both the Polaroid and the photo-booth photos is that they were, and are somewhat still today, for the common consumer.

The second example relating to the “fluidity” of the contemporary image is highlighted by consumer-friendly computer applications such as iPhoto and Picasa (pg. 15). Rubinstein and Sluis relate the ability to “scroll through” sequences of photographs to the integration of ease and accessibility of the photographic experience to the consumer market.  Personally, I have always appreciated the ease with which to view my digital photographs in iPhoto on my computer. I am also an artist who appreciates, and uses traditional, darkroom photography. Instead of experiencing dissonance between these two “worlds,” I find a broad freedom and an expanded creativity in blending both traditional and digital photography.

Later in the text Caterina Flake, Flickr’s founder, is quoted, stating “the nature of photography now is it’s in motion… It doesn’t stop time anymore, and maybe that’s a loss. But there’s a kind of beauty to that, too.” (Harmon). The fluidity, or constant “flow” of the contemporary photograph could be seen as having a negative impact on the practice of photography.  But I agree with Flake—the constant documentation of our lives to be shared, viewed and commented on by others is, in itself, a tie that binds a large community, using this unique “visual speech” (pg. 18) as one of our languages.