A woman stares from her
black and white location as she rests on a motorcycle. She is garbed with a
pair of dungarees and a collared blouse. Her hair, carefully fixed to highlight
her soft curls, greyed from light exposure and time passed. An old lady gazes
from the black and white portrait: sophisticated and classy.
This was a Kodak moment; a
moment of meaning which meant to be captured and preserved. Photography, in the
past, held prominence and significance. It mirrored conscientious creation. It
is a cherished degree endured in a collective flicking of a camera through the
family photo album. This old-fashioned family tradition expired with the
service and commercialism of the effortlessly swiping through photos on a digital
screen. Photography has evolved from the atypical and rare moment and instance
of capturing a momentous event to a daily mania we create and produce in mass.
The Kodak moment, planned
with a meticulous setting of the tripod, lost and defeated to the ‘Instagram
moment’. Photography in the Instagram generation does not anymore require an
occasion. In its place, day-to-day, minute-to-minute activities are considered
and assessed based on their ‘Insta’ potential.
Selfie [noun, un-gendered]:
a photograph in which the photographer is likewise the subject of the frame;
such photos often used mirrors, or introduce the extended, stretched arm of the
subject in the corner of the frame; such photographs are taken with the main
purpose of posting them on at least one form of social media. Selfies are
generally taken with varying technology from true photography, utilizing
digital smartphones, or computer webcams.
A veteran of the selfie, a
friend sits across from me, slumped on the couch and holding her phone parallel
to her face. She contorts her face–piercing her eyes, scrunching her nose,
making a surprised and coy expression with her lips. When I ask about her
actions, she scoffs at my naivety.
“Uhm, I’m Camera 360-ing.”
As she continues, a message
made up only of a photo—usually one of self-involved subject matter, my evident
stupidity hits me in the face. She is a ‘Selfie Connoisseur’. Her online
identity is expressed by various multitudes of selfies, where in each photo,
she would portray one of the following expressions: sassy, sexy, happy, posh,
or “prosti”. This new subject matter of the self now comprises a message with
no text necessary; “You only need to see my face,” reads as the underlying
script that comes with exchanging ‘snaps’.
Our desire to record our
appearance and exhibit it for others emanates from our yet dormant narcissism.
This is not a novel advancement in the human personality. Look to Caravaggio’s
Narcissus, from the Renaissance period. In Greek mythology, Narcissus fell in
love with his own reflection in a pool of water.
Narcissism exemplifies the
self-satisfaction of our own physical characteristics. Such narcissistic tendencies
and manifestations envelop us, both on the screens of our addicting social
interfaces, and the people next to us on the jeep. We take photos of ourselves
out of appreciation with the notion that the photos fascinate our friends, or
‘followers’. Not different from Narcissus’ admiration of himself in the puddle,
and trusting that if he loved himself to such level and magnitude, others would
as well.
That portrait of the old
lady I mentioned earlier could prove rare in today’s compeers of
self-fanatical, self-declared photographers. Such a photo took skill, practice,
lighting, and education. Why go to the efforts of hiring a photographer when we
can crane our arm out, and ‘say cheese’ for our cell phone? The once revered
‘sacred Kodak moment’ now shattered, with it the sacristy of its photographers,
replaced by the Industrial Revolution of the photograph and all-to-common,
‘Instagram moment’.
The art of photography
engulfed with works of humdrum, unremarkable and nondescript events, assumed
identical to the professional and classy works of RomyVitug, Ansel Adams, Cecil
Beaton or Annie Leibovitz. This propagated and popularized social media platform
almost means it is already unnecessary to marvel at the works of such
experienced photographers because we have become the photographers; filters
need only be applied.
As I walk the grounds of
Capitol, Lingayen, I must excuse a group of adolescent girls stationed in the
middle of the sidewalk with their necks craned up towards the monumental Aguido.
Above their heads, they each hold their smartphones, holding still while they
capture the unchanging structure. Without budging from their positions, I see
their fingers swiping, no doubt testing each Instagram filter; this group of
girls represented ‘Filter Artists’. Possibly Valencia?Sierra?Sutro? Each photo
they Instagram surely differs only slightly–capturing in manifold neither an
occasion nor celebration, nor do they reflect the custom of the photographical.
We take photos with the goal
to impress, in contrary to documenting our momentous, treasured moments.
Photography or ‘selfie’ portraits no longer need the excuse of a memorable
moment. Got your daily cup of milktea this morning? Instagram it.Walked down an
empty street that resembles an utterly idyllic and utopian state? Slap a filter
over it to give the photo a sepia hue, and call yourself a photographer. Those
moments…you know.
The rare and cherished Kodak
moment was practiced with class by our parents. Portraits like these were taken
as our parents came of age and developed. What can we say about the photographs
we take today? I am unwilling to call it photography in refinement, for fear of
advocating the Instagram and Selfie movements.
Imagine if our grandchildren
see our over-documented photographs of ‘selfies’, would they see elegance and
dignity and composure? Upright men they call grandpa or grandma? More likely
theirInstagram oldies in our wealth, range, and assortment, that shows the
evolution and latitude of our vainglory, our self-obsession, and our thirsting
need for approval and validation.
This is photography
reinvented…or disgraced?Hashtag me (#louieask), and tell me what you think. You
decide.
