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So here I’m reading on Andrew J. Birrell’s article of The North American Boundary Commission and I realise how photographing for the railways was of significant importance back in the late 1800s. Of course, this was all done in the process to actually build possible passages for the railways by surveying and exploring the land. He quotes, “It may be said that now no report of an exploration is considered complete unless accompanied by photographs.” It’s a very interesting line that I’ve put some thought to…
So, is what I observe through my viewfinder some kind of “report of an exploration? And then, once photographed, is it complete? It all sounds so scientific! But then again, photography was used, in the beginning, as visual documentations and was “indispensable and highly technical” to surveys, therefore in my opinion, a very scientific implement.
But things have changed since then and I don’t wish for people to study my photographs scientifically or as any ordinary documentation. I would like for them to look at my images as if a story is being told, like in fairy-tale-like or fable sort of way.
Take my trains for example, even thought I photograph them; I tend to create and leave a sort of mystery so the spectator has this aspect to question. I don’t photograph them like any common “railfan” because I don’t look for the good crisp quality of a calendar shot. (Although, in all do respect, “railfanning” is a very fun hobby.) As an artist, I wish to bring in a much more cultural take on this object to which I associate more humanlike characteristics. In other words, as a machine, the train has a certain rugged, aggressive and forceful quality with all its metal and steel components to which these aspects are represented culturally with masculinity that I wish to capture through my photographs.
What’s that you ask? Did I just represent trains to what we know culturally with masculinity? … as man?
Think about it…
BIRRELL, Andrew J., "The North American Boundary Commission – Three Photographic Expeditions, 1872-74", History of Photography, Volume 20, Mumber 2, Summer 1996: p. 113-121
So, is what I observe through my viewfinder some kind of “report of an exploration? And then, once photographed, is it complete? It all sounds so scientific! But then again, photography was used, in the beginning, as visual documentations and was “indispensable and highly technical” to surveys, therefore in my opinion, a very scientific implement.
But things have changed since then and I don’t wish for people to study my photographs scientifically or as any ordinary documentation. I would like for them to look at my images as if a story is being told, like in fairy-tale-like or fable sort of way.
Take my trains for example, even thought I photograph them; I tend to create and leave a sort of mystery so the spectator has this aspect to question. I don’t photograph them like any common “railfan” because I don’t look for the good crisp quality of a calendar shot. (Although, in all do respect, “railfanning” is a very fun hobby.) As an artist, I wish to bring in a much more cultural take on this object to which I associate more humanlike characteristics. In other words, as a machine, the train has a certain rugged, aggressive and forceful quality with all its metal and steel components to which these aspects are represented culturally with masculinity that I wish to capture through my photographs.
What’s that you ask? Did I just represent trains to what we know culturally with masculinity? … as man?
Think about it…
BIRRELL, Andrew J., "The North American Boundary Commission – Three Photographic Expeditions, 1872-74", History of Photography, Volume 20, Mumber 2, Summer 1996: p. 113-121
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