The Darkroom or Blackbox (2022)

 Finding a starting point for creating a photo series is often challenging. One solution to overcome this challenge is to explore the potential answers to a key question: “As a photographer, what do we think of when we think of photography?” In response, one could say that we’re likely either engaged in contemplating subject matters that can be captured by the camera or developing ideas that can be expressed through photography. It could be said that the first approach, contemplating subject matters, pertains to a form of photography known as documentary and straight photography. In contrast, the attempt to express ideas through the medium of photography is engaged in an approach where a photograph serves as an image that often conveys its relation to the idea through connotative and metaphorical significations. This opposition, which is associated with the famous binary of photography as either a mirror or a window, largely defines most of the photo series presented in the art scenes. Of course, there are intermediate approaches as well. For instance, various portraits and self-portraits of photographers revolving around the concept of identity in the 80s and 90s, embody such characteristics. These images both exhibit straight representation of the environment in where the photographer resides and, due to the limitations of photography in representation, engage in connotative and metaphorical significations to illustrate the frequently critical state of identity.

After deciding on the primary approach, the photographer needs to devise a technical strategy for its production. Thus, when envisioning the creation of a photo series, we also think about the technical strategies involved in its production. It is interesting that differentiation between the two approaches of “photograph as document” and “photograph as image” results in selecting different technical strategies in the production process. For example, when a photographer adopts a purely documentary approach, they can often avoid technical complexities, to be more precise, technical troubles. In such instances, the use of a conventional camera (even a smartphone) appears to be adequate. By diverging from an exclusively objective approach and emphasizing the significance of the image, technical issues frequently manifest themselves within the photographs. For instance, employing technical solutions such as using flash and even colored lights to capture documentary subjects is one method many photographers employ to give their images a formal symmetry, thereby enhancing the visual aspect of their photos. On the other hand, the extensive adoption of unconventional and slower cameras such as medium format and large format cameras, is also quite common in this approach. Using these cameras helps photographers not only to produce images with distinct optical qualities, but also equip them to capture more details and present the photos in larger sizes. Consequently, they can depart from the conventional presentation of documentary images. Eventually, as the objectivity diminishes and the significance of the image becomes paramount, these technical considerations may transcend the confines of the camera apparatus, leading to staging the subject, manipulation, and even image construction.

When it comes to techniques, photographers are typically thought to have enough freedom in selecting their tools for image production. This implies that they know different tools offer different imagery solutions, enabling them to capture a variety of images for various purposes from a given subject. Nevertheless, this technical freedom imposes limitations on the photographer at two distinct levels. On one hand, it means that the photographer cannot surpass the constraints of their tools in the process of photography. Agreeing with such a statement does not seem feasible, as it would make the production of different cameras appear pointless. On the other hand, the technical limitations of the camera already have an impact on the photographer’s mindset regarding their subject or intended idea. This means that, in their initial reflections on photography, the photographer primarily considers what is amenable to being captured through the medium.

Given that in recent decades, nearly everything has become photographable for both amateur and professional photographers, it might seem like these limitations aren’t all that significant. Nevertheless, recognizing the guiding role of tool limitations in thinking on photography is incredibly influential. In this regard, I can’t think of a better example than Henri Cartier-Bresson’s idea of “the decisive moment”. The notion of the decisive moment seeking to capture “the meaningful simultaneity of different subject within a frame” bears significant influence from the viewfinder of the camera Bresson used to employ. Because the direct-optical viewfinder of Leica cameras_ particularly the small viewfinder found in early Leica models_ providing bright comprehensive view, places composition at the highest priority in the qualitative assessment of the image. Indeed, given that the photographer sees the entire frame clearly and brightly through the direct-optical viewfinder, they can concentrate on composition. This contrasts with the use of SLR and DSLR cameras (except when using ultra wide-angle lenses), where only a portion of the image is clearly visible, and the photographer cannot observe the entire image. This issue becomes especially evident when using lenses with wide aperture. Accordingly, it is difficult to imagine a photographer fully immersed in street photography using SLR or DSLR cameras and making the decisive moment happen. Given the technical characteristics of the direct-optical viewfinder, Bresson’s photographs and generally images of the earlier generations of Magnum photographers have tended to small-scale images and narrativity on the macro-level of the image (or narrative on the level of subject synchronicity). Contrary to this approach, mention can be made of Group f/64 that by employing large format cameras, emphasized the primary capability of these cameras, namely, image focusing and resolution.

Interestingly, today, Magnum photographers such as Mark Power and Alec Soth use large format cameras; and the narrative in their images is attained through the details of images and specified focusing. If we assume that a photographer, prior to engaging in contemplation on photography, is constrained and directed by the tool features, they can consider issues other than representing subjects or expressing ideas. From such a perspective, the photographer can reflect on the limitations and the guiding impact of the photography medium. For instance, they might think about the trends that have influenced and solidified the two approaches of a photograph as either a window or a mirror; or how their conceptualization of photography is being shaped by the medium itself.

Now, one may wonder: how should the photographer approach creating their series to adopt an introspective stance towards the medium of photography? Obviously, this approach cannot be pursued through straight and documentary photography. This is since straight representation prioritizes references to the subject of representation and considers media relations articulate. Consequently, the audience often becomes distant from the photographer’s intended content. Furthermore, contemplating media via photography should not be assumed as plain and simple as following an idea through photography. Since, as mentioned, transforming an idea into an image, or in other words, translating an idea into an image, implicitly refers to the subject matter that interests the photographer. However, in this context, the subject matter of interest to the photographer ought to serve merely as a pretext for elucidating an aspect of the photography mechanism. For example, suppose that the aspect of the apparatus that we intend to refer to through a photo series pertains to the relations of accurate color representation. In this case, what subject or idea could refer to such a mechanism? Would photographing a subject where accurate color representation is essential (such as a museum object) suffice to advert to such mechanism? Or in a more complicated way, if the photographer’s focus is on a non-objective subject, like the boundaries and definitions of artworks accepted by art institutions, what should they photograph? Thus, when the photographer’s emphasis lies on elucidating the mechanisms of image production, distribution, and archiving, the subject of their photographs should be seen as a pretext for initiating a dialogue surrounding media.

To better grasp the idea, we can look at the terminologies introduced by Vilém Flusser. According to him, when a photographer explores a subject or an idea, they’re essentially playing with the camera apparatus or, more broadly, engaging in “playing with the medium of photography”; on the other hand, a photographer thinking about revealing the photography mechanisms is occupied with “playing against photography”. From this viewpoint, while “playing with photography” entails the study of related significations or the pursuit of the photographer’s idea, “playing against photography” means critiquing the production process and, correspondingly, the way they are employed. Flusser’s approach to photography can be understood through a simple analogy. Imagine playing chess against AI. In this situation, proficiency in the game can be sought on three levels. At the first level, the objective can be defined as “striving for victory”; in this context, an expert chess player is one who can outperform AI at elevated levels. At the second level, one can envision a player who draws implicit connotations during the game; for instance, they may prioritize moves involving pawn pieces as a metaphorical reference to an external subject matter, such as a social issue. In this case, it is even conceivable that the player may achieve their objective despite losing to AI. Here, a proficient player denotes someone capable of articulating a broader and more sophisticated array of metaphorical concepts. Finally, one can imagine a player facing off against AI to figure out the mechanism of its gameplay. In this approach, winning or losing in the game loses its significance, and each move or set of moves serves as a pretext for analyzing the responses of AI and elucidating its mechanisms. Here, an expert player is someone who, throughout the game, reveals various aspects of AI’s performance. Similarly, when a photographer tries to play “against photography” in a series, they, indeed, attempt to make references to the relations of the photography medium through presenting the photo series. In this case, the subject within the image functions solely as a pretext to initiate a discussion revolving around the media relations pertinent to the photographer.

To critique the process of photo production, or in other words, to reveal a facet of camera mechanism, attention can be directed to the time preceding the introduction of direct-optical viewfinders and even prior to the use of focus screens in large format cameras_ the time when the photographer used to work in darkroom. Under these circumstances, the photographer is isolated from the external world, and the mechanism of the darkroom acts as an intermediary between the photographers and the external world. Now, if we pay attention to this mechanism, we’ll understand that the darkroom diminishes the three-dimensional world to a two-dimensional image. Accordingly, the perception of relationships among objects in the external world is achieved through imagination derived from the two-dimensional image. It is intriguing that within this very reduction, there happens no temporal alteration of the subject, and the internal and external worlds of the darkroom are synchronized. When a photograph is taken, the temporal dimension is lost and can only be reconstructed through a comprehensive understanding of technical relations of representation. Thus, a photograph transforms the four-dimensional world to a two-dimensional image.

However, according to Flusser, this process is not merely a unidirectional reductive one; rather, it contributes to the world by generating “information”. In other words, the camera_ referred to by Flusser as the photographic apparatus_ encodes the world by generating information. The world is imputed into the camera, where its image is created at a specific locus; subsequently, the output is the encoded image through calculational procedures. For instance, consider a nineteenth-century group portrait. In the production process of such photographs, the three-dimensional world is initially translated into a color and moving image within a darkroom, adhering to the principles of linear perspective, hence encoded. Subsequently, this image is documented in a static form, rendered in grayscale tones, and accompanied by positional blurring. Of course, reading these codes will not be difficult for someone familiar with photography. They understand that the black-and-white representation of the subject is a result of the photosensitive material’s mechanism. The blurring of hands or faces is due to movement during the several-minute exposure period, and the blurs at the image’s corners are attributed to the limitations of early lenses. In other words, with an understanding of both the world and photography, they can decode the information within the photograph and reconstruct the subject of photography using their imagination.

Through the encoding of the photograph and its deviation from the image produced by the primary mechanism of the darkroom, Flusser argues that the photographic apparatus should be understood not as a darkroom, but as a blackbox. In his view, the camera operates like a blackbox, following intricate and specific mechanisms that translate the world into information via encoding. Nevertheless, should the medium of photography operate akin to a blackbox, thinking about photography without considering such a mechanism will be fraught with fundamental deficiencies. This matter is especially pertinent because photographs have evolved into a perpetual intermediary between us and the world. Moreover, the photographs themselves are provided to us via media, which are engaged with the processes of publishing and archiving. From this perspective, the photographs, along with the distributing and archiving institutions, each on separate levels, serve as intermediaries between us and the external world. Alternatively, the world becomes accessible to us through several stages of encoding.

While the concept of photographic media generally entails a fusion of these two levels, it is essential to differentiate between the producing apparatus and the presenting apparatus for elucidating the mechanisms underlying each facet of the black box. Hence, the two series to be presented subsequently each attend to the relations associated with one of these levels. In “A Few Copies of Hiroshige”, the subject of interest is the encoding of color in the representation process, which is examined within the accurate context of museum photography. Whereas, in the second series, “Two Experiments of Arago”, the study centers on the mechanism by which scientific photography enters art institutions. 

Similar to all series striving to play against the program, the central subject of these two series serves as a mere pretext for unveiling a segment of the intricate mechanism of the program. Thus, the audience of these two series is anticipated to consider not only the information presented at the surface level of the photographs, which pertains to the subject of photography, but also the ways in which these two series engage with the mechanisms of media. (Written by Roozbeh Maleki, Translator: Niki Shadloo)