Professional Documents
Culture Documents
future
of
the
photographed
subject,
rather
than
its
history,
an
intrigue
that
compels
him,
wants
him
to
seek
or
resolve
the
mystery.
If
the
spectator
was
to
consider
the
photographs
that
Marker
uses,
without
the
context
of
the
narrative,
most
of
the
photographs
contain
the
same
degree
of
familiarity
that
one
might
find
in
an
old
family
album,
this
is
with
the
exception
of
the
photographs
of
the
experiment
which
almost
feel
as
though
they
were
taken
as
part
of
Nazi
experiments
from
the
second
World
War.
The
point
being
that
the
photographs
Marker
uses
similarly
to
Kertesz
photograph
of
the
young
schoolboy,
offer
the
same
possibilities.
This
combination
of
a
fantastic
story
with
a
series
of
photographs
that
seem
accessible,
ordinary
or
familiar
provides
the
spectator
with
the
sense
that
for
Marker
the
photograph
may
be
so
forcefully
clear,
as
to
yield
itself
wholly
to
the
object
(p.106),
that
this
history
through
inference
or
closure
to
the
mystery
that
one
yearns,
can
never
be
true
to
the
photograph
or
as
true
as
the
photograph,
it
will
always
be
a
story
told
by
a
narrator,
as
a
narrative
fiction
to
the
subject.
Perhaps
this
is
why
Marker
holds
back
so
much
information
from
the
spectator,
who
is
made
all
the
more
aware
of
these
gaps
because
of
the
narration,
like
what
the
war
was
about?
Who
are
these
characters?
What
are
their
names?
Which
poses
more
questions
about
the
photographs
one
might
examine
everyday
and
the
histories
from
which
they
amounted,
furthermore
if
we
were,
as
spectators,
provided
with
these
details,
a
central
question
will
always
emerge
unanswered,
Who
is
that
person?
Or
what
personifies
that
person?
For
Barthes
it
might
be
resolved
only
in
accordance
with
his
own
subjective
history,
these
infinite
subjective
histories
are
recalled
by
a
sting
in
the
photograph,
that
unites
us
through
memory,
a
poetic
inference.
Barthes
notes
that
the
photograph
is
composed
of
three
practices:
to
do,
to
undergo,
to
look
(p.9).
These
three
processes
are
involved
in
the
function
of
the
photograph;
the
spectator
being
the
viewer,
the
operator
being
the
one
who
captures
the
photograph
and
the
object
which
is
that
thing
or
moment
being
photographed.
In
Chris
Markers
work
the
spectator
and
the
target
are
obvious,
however
the
operator
remains
obscured,
typically
objectified
in
classic
essayist
form,
the
voice
doesnt
simply
resonate
as
Markers,
nor
is
the
authorship
of
the
photographs
inherently
Markers,
perhaps
for
Marker,
by
implementing
this
method
he
opens
up
the
form
so
that
it
can
resonate
these
ideas
surrounding
the
medium
itself.
Barthes
Winter
Garden
photograph,
of
his
mother
as
a
child,
is
used
by
the
author
in
order
to
explore
this
connection
between
memory
and
the
photograph,
and
within
which
he
reveals
the
photographs
amazing
power
of
being
able
to
capture
the
air
of
a
person.
The
image
from
Markers
work
that
runs
parallel
to
this
idea
is
the
image
of
the
woman
on
the
jetty,
who
is,
for
the
hero,
the
only
peacetime
image
to
survive
the
war,
and
is
the
only
thing
that
he
loves
or
provides
him
with
hope.
This
image
functions
simultaneously
as
a
photograph
for
the
spectator
and
a
memory
within
the
narrative.
However,
as
a
spectator
the
image
seems
staged,
overly
expressive
almost
an
illusion
or
deception
contructed
by
the
imagination,
the
womans
gesture,
her
hair
blowing
in
the
wind,
her
fingers
frozen
across
her
mouth.
It
is
the
first
and
subsequently
the
last
time
we
see
her
face,
Marker
imposes
the
question;
do
we
remember
this
way?
The
image
is
ingrained
on
the
screen
for
several
seconds,
the
narrator
asks
Had
he
really
seen
itor
had
he
invented
that
tender
moment?
For
Marker,
memory
is
photographed
by
the
mind,
but
edited
or
deceived
by
fantasy
and
romantic
notions
that
are
provoked
by
the
operator.
During
the
heros
early
time
travels
he
is
bombarded
by
images;
Other
images
appear,
merge,
in
that
museum,
which
is,
perhaps,
his
memory.3
If
for
Marker
the
museum
functions
like
memory,
a
place
where
ideas
are
constructed
first
then
displayed
and
accessed,
then
would
the
nature
of
the
camera
and
the
photograph
perhaps
function
as
counter-memory?
The
way
in
which
this
photographic,
stylized
photograph
replaces
the
heros
memory
would
suggest
that
memory
is
photographic
in
the
sense
that
it
is
fictionalized
and
deceived
biologically,
just
as
the
senses
are
deceived
by
the
photographs
in
a
cinema
as
they
pass
the
eye
at
24
frames
revealing
motion,
so
does
then
the
photograph
confront
memory,
countering
its
possibilities?4
Barthes
Winter
Garden
and
Markers
image
of
the
woman
on
the
jetty
are
not
simply
linked
by
their
notions
of
memory,
they
both
also
conjure
up
the
air
of
the
women
depicted
in
both
photographs.
In
Barthes
ritualistic
study
of
the
photographs
of
his
mother,
he
does
not
recognize
her,
the
photographs
reflect
a
likeness
but
do
no
embody
her
being,
he
writes
photography
authenticates
the
existence
of
a
certain
being,
I
want
to
discover
the
being
in
the
photograph
completelyin
its
essence.
Suddenly,
he
finds
her
in
the
Winter
Garden
photograph,
within
which
he
experiences
the
power
of
photography
as
being
able
to
capture
the
air
of
a
person.
The
air
is
a
kind
of
intractable
supplement
of
identitiy[it]
expresses
the
subject
(p.92),
furthermore,
it
is
through
this
quality
of
the
air
that
Barthes
believes
a
photograph
comes
alive,
a
poetic
notion
that
treats
photography
more
than
a
supplement
to
memory
or
an
archive,
the
photograph
becomes
the
embodiment
of
his
relationship
with
his
mother.
Markers
photograph
of
the
woman
on
the
Jetty,
sets
up
an
analogous
function
for
the
hero
of
the
film,
the
spectator
can
access
the
air
that
the
narrator
experiences
in
relation
to
the
woman,
through
the
illusion
set
up
by
the
photograph.
This
opening
up
of
a
connection
with
the
photograph,
that
utilizes
both
imagination
and
memory
with
that
being
photographed,
can
be
contrasted
with
the
subject
of
death,
the
taking
away.
Barthes
notes
that
within
every
photograph
there
is
a
terrible
thing,
which
is
the
return
of
the
dead.
For
Barthes,
the
photograph
cannot
escape
mimicking
death,
every
photograph
is
at
its
heart
an
image
of
death.
Every
photograph
essentially
depicts
a
moment
passed,
never
to
be
repeated.
For
Barthes,
this
idea
is
tied
up
with
time,
which
in
his
words
is
engorged
[in
the
photograph],
one
that
records
and
certifies
something
that
has
been
(p.76).
He
argues
that
It
is
the
advent
of
the
photographwhich
divides
the
history
of
the
world,
the
notion
that
prior
to
the
photograph
nothing
about
the
times
were
certain,
perhaps
divided
by
memories
3
Chris
Marker,
La
Jete
4
Paul
Meyer,
Restoration
of
Motion
Picture
Film
and
illusion.
Both
history
and
art
coexisted
to
teach
people
about
the
past,
but
nothing
was
a
certain,
an
interpretation
of
facts,
fictionalized
by
human
intermediaries.
Language
in
a
sense
combines
signs,
some
of
which
only
have
an
allusion
in
relation
to
their
referent,
the
photograph
however
has
indexicality
as
a
necessary
feature,
a
trace
which
is
linked
directly
to
the
thing
[that]
has
been
there
(p.76).
We
might
consider
history
as
being
like
a
narrative,
a
story
about
the
past
told
through
the
experiences
of
people
who
were
better
at
articulating
themselves,
while
painting
and
other
arts
are
representations
of
these
experiences.5
Photography
however,
proves
with
certainty,
it
may
pose
further
questions
as
discussed
before,
but
from
a
phenomenological
viewpoint,
in
the
Photograph,
the
power
of
authentication
exceeds
the
power
of
representation
(pg.
89).
Barthes
knows
that
only
the
existence
of
something
can
be
proven,
however
this
proof
of
authenticity,
proof
of
time,
is
ironic
in
the
sense
that
it
affirms
these
moments,
proves
or
authenticates
but
simultaneously
resonates
as
a
symbol
of
death.
Furthermore,
as
the
photographer
captures
a
portrait
of
an
individual
in
order
to
celebrate
or
commemorate
their
persona,
the
photograph
may
reduce
their
air
into
superficiality,
transforming
people
into
objects
of
art,
a
spectacle.
This
idea
resonates
particularly
with
celebrity
culture
in
the
age
of
information,
we
are
assaulted
by
the
public
photographs
of
other
peoples
lives,
superficial
lives
that
become
spectacles
that
we
consider
in
reflection
with
our
own
experiences
and
memories.
It
is
this
photographic
function
that
for
Barthes
has
transformed
subject
into
object,
as
somewhat
of
a
celebrity
himself
he
notes
I
have
become
Total
Image,
which
is
to
say,
Death
in
personothers
do
not
dispossess
me
of
myself,
they
turn
me
ferociously,
into
an
object
(p.14).
In
contrast,
Laura
Mulvey
in
her
book
Death
24
x
a
Second
notes
that
both
photography
and
film
are
associated
with
the
capability
to
overcome
death,
the
way
in
which
photography
freezes
moments
and
saves
the
objects
from
their
ultimate
faith,
death.
One
might
argue
that
this
paused
reproduction,
this
archive,
represents
a
symbol
of
life
as
being
eternal
or
immortal.6
Marker
enforces
similar
ideas
to
Barthes
about
death
within
the
narrative
of
La
Jete,
a
dead
man
travels
back
in
time
to
a
world
of
people
who
are
about
to
die,
sent
by
a
group
of
scientists
who
have
turned
him
into
an
object
and
before
whom
he
has
no
private
life,
he
is
to
be
used
and
discarded,
the
film
is
essentially
about
dead
people,
killing
in
the
third
World
War,
trying
to
escape
death,
just
as
we
perhaps
attempt
to
escape
death
and
make
eternal
the
objects
of
our
photographs.
When
Marker
sends
his
character
into
the
future,
the
inhabitants
reflect
Barthes
ideas
of
the
spectator,
they
are
viewing
him
as
a
photograph
of
the
past.
Furthermore,
the
hero
and
heroine
meet
in
a
museum
filled
with
eternal
creatures
reinstating
the
marriage
between
death
and
time,
a
museum
of
geology,
creatures
that
have
been
long
dead
are
put
on
display
in
an
attempt
to
recapture
their
life
and
thus
create
a
memory
of
them,
just
as
Barthes
describes
in
the
photographic
process.
Marker
recycles
these
statues
through
photography
and
incorporates
them
in
his
narrative,
effectively
removing
them
from
time
entirely.
Marker
uses
his
story
or
narrative
as
a
tool,
a
tool
that
negates
time
and
places
the
spectator
within
the
fiction
of
the
story
where
real
5
Timothy
Quigley,
Notes
on
Roland
Barthes
6
Laura
Mulvey,
Death
24
x
a
Second
time
is
irrelevant.7
The
hero,
like
the
photograph,
is
turned
into
an
object,
used
by
scientists
in
the
name
of
the
race
in
the
same
way
the
press
exploits
in
the
name
of
culture.
Markers
hero
has
no
private
life,
the
thought
police
see
even
into
dreams.
Barthes
writes,
the
age
of
the
photograph
corresponds
precisely
to
the
explosion
of
the
private
into
the
public.
(pg.
98)
At
the
end
of
La
Jete
the
man
is
killed
because
he
is
no
longer
useful,
for
which
Barthes
notes,
The
only
way
that
I
can
transform
the
photograph
is
into
refuse:
either
the
drawer
or
the
wastebasket
(p.93).
Finally
I
will
be
addressing
Barthes
most
important
idea
in
Camera
Lucida,
that
of
the
punctum,
that
striking
detail
of
a
photograph
that
pricks
or
stings
the
spectator,
a
photographs
punctum
is
that
accident
which
pricks
me
(but
also
bruises
me,
is
poignant
to
me)
(pg.
47).
Not
all
photographs
might
necessarily
have
a
punctum,
nor
might
the
punctum
be
the
same
for
every
spectator
viewing
it,
however
when
the
punctum
is
there
the
picture
suddenly
becomes
alive
for
the
viewer.
For
Barthes,
the
punctum
is
a
necessary
quality
or
detail
that
brings
the
photograph
to
life
for
the
spectator
via
their
subjective
inference,
experiences
or
memories.
In
La
Jete,
the
spectators
immediate
response
would
be
the
moment
in
which
Marker
uses
the
tempo
of
his
rhythmic
editing
to
build
into
the
one
moment
of
film
in
which
there
is
movement,
when
the
heroine
is
depicted
through
photographs
that
fade
into
one
another
slowly
creating
the
illusion
of
movement
until
the
point
in
which
the
eye
is
deceived,
when
we
are
viewing
motion
through
the
illusion
of
film
at
24
frames
per
second,
we
can
hear
her
breathe,
she
confronts
our
gaze,
blinks
and
fades
to
black.
It
is
striking
for
the
spectator
to
consider
why
Marker
chooses
to
use
motion
here,
even
if
its
slightly
jagged
and
brief,
is
it
perhaps
because
this
is
the
only
moment
in
which
he
has
revealed
a
memory
that
is
certain,
less
staged,
a
natural
moment
that
resonates
for
the
hero?
A
memory
that
Marker
imposes
on
his
spectators
through
a
cinematic
technique?
perhaps
its
to
be
considered
subjectively
in
accordance
with
our
memories
of
past
lovers
and
friends,
and
the
way
in
which
we
remember
them.
Or
Marker
might
suggest
that
memory
functions
in
the
same
way
the
photographic
process
does,
and
that
those
moments
we
remember
or
make
memories
of,
that
the
pricks
and
stings
of
a
snapshot,
are
essentially
the
punctums
of
our
past.
Both
Roland
Barthes
and
Chris
Marker
use
their
works
Camera
Lucida
and
La
Jete
in
order
to
deconstruct
and
examine
the
nature
of
photography
and
the
impact,
the
photograph
has
on
the
observer.
Together
they
address
time,
death
and
memory,
whilst
examining
its
effect
in
relation
to
the
observer
as
objective
and
subjective.
If
we
were
to
consider
these
ideas
in
contrast
to
Kafkas,
when
he
explains,
we
photograph
things
in
order
to
drive
them
out
of
our
mindsa
way
of
shutting
[ones]
eyes
(pg.
53)
the
act
of
taking
photographs,
or
continuing
to
live
and
construct
ordinary
experience
and
memories,
become
a
temporary
relief
from
the
sting
of
the
punctum,
which
come
from
the
notion
that
what
the
Photograph
reproduces
to
infinity
has
occurred
only
once
(p.4)
despite
the
blind
field
of
life
surrounding
it.
In
conclusion,
it
is
only
with
an
absence
that
art
can
elevate,
and
by
the
time
it
catches
up,
the
moment
has
passed
as
we
7
Uriel
Orlow,
Photography
as
Cinema
create
new
punctums
in
ordinary
life,
in
the
hope
that
we
may
recall
them
again
in
the
photographs
we
find
or
capture
in
the
future.
1
2
3
4
5
6
7