“Emilio Morenatti’s child sleeping under a mosquito net is pure art,” Dennis Stock, a Magnum photographer, wrote in the Lens blog on May 26, in response to this picture.
That prompted another reader, identified only as Phil, to ask, “Is it acceptable to make art out of human suffering?”
And that prompted a conversation among the photo staff about the photography of human suffering and the nature of art. I thought we should involve the larger photo community in our discussion, because it is a profound and timeless question.
Dennis Stock
I asked Mr. Stock to answer Phil’s question.
“First of all,” he replied, “I don’t see a suffering child in that wonderful picture. Just ‘a moment of heaven.’ Photographers always want to get the viewer’s attention. I teach that when content and craft converge, the observation has possibly a greater chance of becoming a permanent canvas in the mind of the viewer. Our images being two dimensional and miniaturized must transcend this limitation to succeed. Emilio has done exactly that. I would have been very proud to capture this moment.”
Mr. Stock later added (and posted in the blog comments): “The goal for the photographer is to be visually articulate. If the subject is in a suffering circumstance, it is all the more preferable to apply craft to the utmost. Call it art or not, we photographers should always try to pass on our observations with the utmost clarity.”
Mary Panzer
Ms. Panzer is a curator and the author of many books on photography. Most recently, she wrote “Things as They Are” (Aperture, 2006) with Christian Caujolle. She said:
“Phil asks whether it’s right to turn a suffering child into ‘pure art’ by means of a camera. (Any museum collection shows that painters and sculptors have been doing this for centuries.) Dennis Stock replies that photographs must be ‘visually articulate’ in order to get the message across. But does the beauty of Emilio Morenatti’s picture actually obscure its meaning? Does a ‘pure art’ photograph exploit the subject and deceive the viewer? If so, at what cost? And who pays?
“Without a caption, this lovely picture of a sleeping child in a refugee camp demands no explanation. Phil implies that a better, more ‘acceptable’ (and perhaps more moral) photograph would make us recognize the tragedy here. But no image can do that by itself. Every photograph needs a caption to provide information that cannot be expressed in pictures. With a caption, any photograph can report responsibly on terrible subjects. And without a caption, even the harshest image remains a mystery.
“Dennis Stock suggests that when a photograph doesn’t need a caption to be worth looking at, it can be a work of art. If you follow that assertion to its logical end, you reach the galleries in Chelsea, where photojournalism (without captions) is now often on view and on sale. And that is certainly acceptable to photographers, dealers, curators and collectors.”
Michele McNally
“You have to remember that the stronger the image is, the more it hurts,” said Ms. McNally, an assistant managing editor and the director of photography at The Times. “When a photograph of a horrific situation is mindfully and artfully put together, and works on multiple levels, it simply grabs your attention and is more effective. Those pictures tend to live long in your memory because all the elements work together to reinforce the narrative and emotion.”
Santiago Lyon
A fine photographer in his own right, Mr. Lyon is the director of photography at The Associated Press.
“The photojournalistic process has many parts,” he said, “starting with the photographer and his or her ability to recognize a telling scene, compose it and release the shutter at precisely the right moment. This is followed by an editing process where a particular moment in time is chosen above multiple others shot by the photographer of the same scene.
“Both processes are highly subjective.
“The prime motive is to inform the viewers, to illuminate them by reaching or connecting with them in some way. If a viewer chooses to regard that visual information, that photograph, as art, then the photographer has succeeded in engaging the consumer on some level.
“But is reducing the visual information to mere aesthetics acceptable?
“If it sears an image into the viewers’ mind and heightens their awareness by making them remember a particular scene and think about it, then my answer would be yes. If it converts a very real human drama into just another forgettable pretty picture, then my answer would be no.
“In either case, the answer can only lie in the eye of the beholder.”
Tyler Hicks
Mr. Hicks of The Times has had substantial experience in and around combat and civil unrest, including a recent Taliban ambush in the Korangal Valley of Afghanistan.
“Many thousands of photographs are taken every day of suffering in the world,” he said. “Two theaters of war have been fought for nearly a decade, as well as dozens of other smaller scale conflicts, natural disasters, starvation, abuse. Today’s photographers have replaced the visual palette of Vietnam with the desert of Iraq or mountains of Afghanistan. I’ve worked extensively in these countries and can attest to the stunning beauty that exists among the wars being fought there. I’ve admired the work produced by the photographers working there, much of which I find to be incredibly beautiful.
“As photographers, are we to put our cameras down when we come across such scenes? Is a ‘beautiful’ photograph offensive to the subject if they are suffering? No matter where the assignment or what the situation, the idea of embargoing a photograph because the scene is visually attractive would be counter to everything we work for. To walk away would not only be unethical, but disrespectful to the subject.”
Andy Levin
Andy Levin, a photographer and editor of the Web magazine 100 Eyes, said: “Phil, I really don’t think we can necessarily conclude that the child is suffering from looking at that one picture, which is taken out of Morenatti’s other work that may paint an entirely different picture.
“But to answer your question: Artists and photographers should be free to express themselves in whatever they want. If a photographer sees a beauty in suffering, in war, even in death, then that is an entirely relevant observation and I don’t think we can set any rules. Trying to calculate the motivation of the photographer is a slippery slope as well.
“I think that as humans, we need to consider the way that our work affects others, and have an understanding of exactly why we are permitted to photograph horrific scenes or the worst moments of a person’s life. If the goal is to elucidate and to contribute to our appreciation of the value of a life, then that to me would be relevant.
“But I am uncomfortable with the idea of selling some photography as art — as limited edition prints, for example, where the value increases with the scarcity, and the economic model is to limit the number of people who can see the image. The great photojournalistic work of the 20th century evolved with the idea of bringing photography to as many eyes as it could. Even after the magazine was purchased, it could still be distributed, given away, sold in flea markets.
“Photographing a dead soldier in Afghanistan and then creating a limited edition set — for me, that may be crossing the boundary into exploitation. For me, it’s a bit cynical and calculated to use a large-format camera for that, to create value by simply limiting the supply. We can’t commodify truth. Commodity and knowledge are mutually exclusive ideas. Yes, books are sold and so are magazines; even the Bible is sold — but not in a limited edition set.”
Ruth Fremson
Like Mr. Hicks, Ms. Fremson has seen much suffering in her assignments for The Times. Her Photographer’s Journal, “Crossing the Lines,” records a troubling trip to the West Bank and Gaza.
“I don’t set out to exploit another person’s suffering in order to make art,” she said. “I set out to tell a story, to explain a situation, to enhance viewers’ understanding of the world around us.
“The way a photojournalist can drive home the severity of a situation, for readers to fully understand them, is to make the most compelling image possible from an event — an image that will make someone stop for a moment, take it in and give the situation some thought.
“A photojournalist who has mastered the visual tools of composition, the use of light and color and the ability to capture the ‘decisive moment,’ will be able to produce a photo so compelling that it can be described as beautiful — or perhaps even as art — even if the subject matter is one of pain and suffering.
“Interestingly, museums around the world are filled with art that depicts human suffering, often based on real events in history. I wonder what the reader’s opinion of that would be?”
