No flash photography
June 30, 2007 6 Comments
In the late summer of 2004, I made the requisite trip with my study abroad group to the Louvre in Paris. We proceeded through the busy museum with a few particular destinations in mind, foremost of which was the Mona Lisa. Just as the Sistine Chapel had been a let down after seeing many other frescos before it in the long procession through the magnificent Vatican Museum, so too did the Mona Lisa seem like just a blip in a sea of masterpieces. Yet, this blip presided over a horde of people who all crowded around it to take photos marking the day that they laid eyes on the woman of perpetual eye contact. Looking back upon this anti-climactic moment, I recall that sea of museum paparazzi much more than I do my brief meeting with the eyes of Mona Lisa.
In the last month, I have made two trips to the National Archives of the United States of America to see the Constitution and the original Declaration of Independence. Before an Archives guard releases the group mostly comprised of tourists into the Rotunda for the Charters of Freedom, he warns us to disable the flash on our cameras or risk confiscation. In this dimly lit hall, visitors nonetheless attempt to take flash-free photographs of the faded, partially illegible documents that are protected by thick glass. Rather than even attempt to read these historic documents, these tourists reflexively reach for the camera to take a photo that surely will not make the words of the document more lucid nor captivate the poor friend or relative who is subject to a slideshow of the family trip to the Nation’s Capital.
As someone who enjoys taking photos a little too much, I sympathize with the impulse to document every site seen on a trip, especially the famed and fabled ones, but there’s a point where this need for the Kodak Moment takes away from the real moment. Sure, the undocumented site may not live in material memory, but certainly a viewing of the Mona Lisa or the Constitution will forever live in the mind, and sometimes that is enough. When those tourist photographers were madly snapping away at the Mona Lisa, I wondered whether they even liked the painting, whether a critical thought about the painting passed through their minds.
The other problem with taking photos in museums is that it is intrusive. For the moments when the camera-wielder is taking his photo, the line of sight between his camera and the painting is his zone. If one walks through a gallery with many amateur photographers, one has to constantly be mindful of not intruding upon their attempts at photos. Engaging with the art, which can be a peaceful, private activity is intruded upon by their obtrusiveness. No longer is the museum a place centered around the objects viewed; it becomes a series of snapshots for the future-thinking picture taker who imagines the slide show or photo album that will come of this visit instead of the history and background of the object at hand.
Excellent post! I agree with nearly every word.
I stopped taking photographs many years ago, once I decided that it makes more sense to record important moments and sites in my memory rather than on film.
As for picture takers at places such as parks and museums, I no longer attempt to avoid getting in their way: my right to move naturally through a public space I firmly believe takes precedence over the activities of the fumbling photographer. Enjoying attractions in all their physical and emotional immediacy should come first.
Michael Blaine
http://www.rudelystamped.blogspot.com
“…there’s a point where this need for the Kodak Moment takes away from the real moment.”
hear hear!!
I still remember viewing the Mona Lisa in 1973. Perhaps there was a bit of a line, it’s hard to recall now, but I did have the chance to gaze at and study the painting and its subject. Had I taken a photo then (which I expect was not allowed), my memory would be only the content of a single fading photo and not the entire enduring experience that it is. My next visit 30+ years later was just as you describe ~ a huge impenetrable clot of people with arms sticking above it to take their “I was there” photos, making any viewing of the ML impossible. I was hugely disappointed with the governors of the Louvre for not providing crowd control there.
Thank goodness not all wonderful paintings are famous, so that “Engaging with the art, …can be a peaceful, private activity …”
I completely agree with everything you say, and it’s beautifully put.
little addendum ~
what i recall about that 1973 viewing of the ML ~ the exquisite verneer with its delicate crackles, the portrait with its riveting eyes so inconceivably the sum of artful, tranparent brushwork, the depth and radiance, the experience of really being there ~ but i didn’t feel a need to own it in some material form
I think your intuition is right, Elaine. Most people don’t go to appreciate the art, they go to see it so they can tell their friends, “I saw the Mona Lisa!” Whenever I go to the National Gallery, I always feel myself drawn to the more famous paintings, or at least those I saw on slides in the one art history class I took in college, but the reason why those paintings are famous is because people have been able to stand before them and contemplate them to great effect. On the other hand, part of the joy of contemplating art, is being able to share your insights with others-so there must be some happy medium between the hordes and “peaceful, private activity.”
As for photography, I understand the need to preserve some image of it, because no matter how much we try to remember we always forget. Photos are a way of recalling the past; I have a feeling that those photos taken by the viewers of the Mona Lisa and Constitution won’t really have much personal meaning to them when they look back at them in twenty years or so. I myself cringe every time I take a photo while traveling, but I think it’s out of the fear of forgetting. I never photograph in a museum, because it is disrespectful and someone else has taken pictures of whatever pieces of art/history that are much better than I ever could. I can always look at a picture, but it’s rare to see the real thing.
HM, what a beautifully put description of the Mona Lisa viewing experience. I too was suprised that the Louvre managers did not have a different attitude towards the chaos.
Chris, I am definitely not opposed to photography, but I find the “I Was There” photograph one of the most uninteresting, especially when the photo taken bothers the experience of others as it does in the Louvre or the Charters of Freedom Rotunda. Anyone who knows me though can duly attest that I’m an avid photo taker.
i have certainly enjoyed the photos on this blog, so keep snapping!!