My Take on Burgin’s ‘Looking at Photographs’

From this week’s reading, Looking at Photographs by Victor Burgin, I got out two major ideas concerning the relationship between people and photography.

Firstly, there was a clear emphasis on the significance of subject and subjectivity. There is a lot of distinguishing between the ‘other’ and the ‘self,’ between the subjects being represented and the viewing subject. Secondly, there were many mentions in the text of how there is a ‘visual language’ in photography and imagery, a sense of there being a semiotic nature to it full of language and symbols.

My interpretation of the reading has led me to understand that these two factors are intertwined and interdependent.

The reading explored how, at a certain age, infants become self-aware; they are able to recognise themselves as a self in the mirror, and can distinguish separate beings as others. This is a trait believed to be unique to humans, and also elephants and dolphins. A product of this self-awareness is, as Burgin argues, the ability to reject reality and indulge the imagination; this becomes significant in the semiotic nature of photography.

This self-awareness gives way to encoding and decoding visual cues based on individual subjectivity. When someone observes a photograph in an album or a gallery, they view or recognise the subjects based on their own experiences and understandings that are unique to them only.

How this connects to the semiotic visual language of photography is that the human mind understands photography on a subjective level, and additionally on a unanimously cognitive level. For instance, Burgin summarised that the reason why composition is important and aesthetically pleasing is because it lets the viewer ‘prolong their imaginary command of the point of view.’

Essentially, on a cognitive level, the rules of composition in photography allow the human mind to become more invested in the subject and reject their reality for the sake of the representation. This is the same for all humans; we unanimously receive and decode representations using the same cognitive formula that is recognised in photographic and cinematic composition.

On a subjective level, our experiences, made more unique due to our self-awareness, shape how we experience the world and absorb visual language, and influence how our imagination runs and shapes our ‘frame of mind’ in which photography is remembered.

The visual language of photography is, as I understand it, a complex intertwining of the cognitive and psychological aspects of the human mind. Our ‘point of view’ or ‘frame of mind’ is a melded combination of how human reception of visual cues occurs and how our self-aware natures allow us to reject reality and substitute our own imagination, whether we are the author of a text or a receiver.

A Self Portrait

Our most recent assessment for Media 1 was to craft short film self-portraits. With only a week to make them, I feel a little shy posting mine here but figured hey, why not. I’m still quite inspired by what we’ve learned from experimental filmmakers, and took a kind of associational filmmaking approach; my aim was to juxtapose people with the landscape. My favourite part is showing how we react when we realise we are being recorded.

Distance between the Audience and the Mediated Subject

In one of our more recent readings for Media 1, I was initially taken aback by the sheer deepness and abstractness of this extract on Perspective and Social Distance. It took me a minute to notice that what was being discussed was essentially how perspective in a piece of media reflects, literally and figuratively, the distances between the audience addressed and the subject being represented.

That may seem a little confusing at first, so let’s try a better interpretation:

Let’s say you’re watching an ad on TV for the upcoming footy season. Any particularly exclusive shots you see of significant individual players may look at them from a slight low-angle, and depict them at full length in the frame which would place them a couple of meters away from the camera/the audience. This positioning of the player in this manner subtly suggests that their significance makes them superior to the audience; they are tall, powerful, and untouchable, far from our screens; at the same time, they are essentially framed so that the audience wants to be on their level, and join them on that platform several meters from the camera where there is apparent glory. That is the essential gist that I got from Perspective and Social Distance.

The reading looked closer at this idea of perspective by referring to its modern roots in the Renaissance era, spanning roughly from the 1500s-1600s. As I am fond to say the least of art, particularly classical art, this exploration clarified what the reading meant by ‘perspective’ in a tangible sense. A sense of hierarchy within artistic and mediated texts clarified for me how there is a distance both literal and figurative between an audience and a subject. In the foreground of a photograph for instance, there are the things considered most accessible to the audience; perhaps normal people, everyday objects, items, pets and animals. The further towards the background of the photo you go, subjects represented would be the ones difficult to attain for an audience; perhaps a representation of fame, fortune, glory, etc.

Aspect to Aspect – Western vs Eastern Storytelling at Play

In Week 1, we were sent a reading in Media1 in the form of a graphic novel by Scott McCloud, exploring human perception in the media that we consume daily. I was reminded of this reading last week in our Media1 workshop and went back to it after we were sent out in groups to film content for a short film haiku. The constraints of the content we shot were that there was to be no focus on individuals, and no camera movement.

I was reminded in this moment of a method of storytelling I had learned about originally from a YouTube personality called Nerdwriter1; it is called Action to Action, and another is called Aspect to Aspect. In Scott McCloud’s Blood in the Gutter, Action to Action is shown as a storytelling method that allows a reader or audience to fill in the gaps, or gutter, between panels and frames. Nerdwriter1 analyses this deeper as a storytelling method for a society or culture that is very goal oriented; for example, in American comic books, Action to Action may be used to tell the narrative of a superhero intending to save the world, knocking down one bad guy at a time.

Conversely, Aspect to Aspect, as explored by McCloud, renders the concept of time unimportant, or even non-existent. Each frame shows aspects that allow the mind and the eye to wander, evoking an idea, emotion or setting. Nerdwriter1 has taken this a step further, and suggests that, particularly in an eastern culture or society, such as Japan, there is less emphasis on getting to a particular place or attaining a particular goal than the notion of allowing the mind to wander within a moment in time. Nerdwriter1 suggests that Aspect to Aspect can be utilised to evoke in an audience or reader a sense of simply existing in a moment. The YouTuber supports his theory through his video essay on the Japanese sci-fi thriller Ghost in the Shell, alluding to a series of shots in the intermission of the film that takes on this sense of being present in a moment, absent from time and time’s constraints.

Back to my original point about the haiku short films we were collecting content for. While I am not sure if Brian Morris was intending for us to rediscover the theory of Aspect-to-Aspect, I found it interesting that we had the goals of creating a filmic haiku (a Japanese form of poetry) and were using a method of filmmaking that is closely linked to a storytelling method used predominantly in Japanese film, narrative, literature and graphic novels. Emphasis on the landscape, setting and context was made clear to us, which is highly similar to the way that Ghost in the Shell conveys a mood and place through similar emphasis to its production design and landscapes.

LINK: Nerdwriter1’s video essay alludes to McCloud’d readings on Action vs Aspect in the first 3 mins

What is Media?

Our Media 1 class yesterday explored what makes something a media text. Our verdict was that a media text was ‘any piece of media that communicates some sort of meaning.’

We also explored the way in which media, in its development as forms of communication, has made us interconnected and intertwined across the globe. Something that interested me was the shift from a Pre-Modern society to a Modern society.

A Pre-Modern society was the world before access to mass media was possible, wherein we experienced almost everything directly and face-to-face. A Modern society, like the one we are in today, sees us experiencing things through media texts, ranging from maps, books and newspapers to television, radio and phones.

The concept of ‘imagined communities’ was raised in the context of Modern societies. My understanding of them is that they are how media texts and the interconnectivity of communication media and technologies form a sense of community. For example, national newspapers, such as The Australian, help Australians identify as a community even though not everybody knows one another as closely as a smaller, local suburban area would.

Following our discussion of what is media, we were sent out in groups to various parts of the CBD to gather a collection of media texts that are present in our everyday lives; my group was sent to the State Library on Swanston Street, and our collection of media texts will be presented in a follow-up post.

My Take on What Makes ‘the Lord of the Rings’ Iconic

CAUTION: Spoilers ahead

Earlier today I found myself having a conversation with a co-worker studying a degree in business/commerce about what makes films iconic, and found myself dumbstruck at his curiosity surrounding why the Lord of the Rings franchise is ‘iconic,’ ‘classic,’ ‘awesome’ etc.

So I had a quick think to myself: what would allow it to qualify as ‘iconic’ films? What I believe has Lord of the Rings rooted deeply in the culture of film and media includes its capacity for visual gorgeousness and furthermore its concept and storyline.

Firstly, a disclaimer: I have an incredibly biased view considering that LotR is one of my favourite series of all time and I could never get sick of it.

The story itself surrounds the fellowship of the One Ring; friendship, loyalty, courage and compassion are notions that are heavily evoked throughout the story. This spans from Samwise Gamgee’s vow to protect Frodo Baggins in the beginning of their quest in Fellowship of the Ring, to the cathartic closure of their journey in the scene at the top of Mount Doom, following the destruction of the One Ring, in Return of the King. Friendship, love and compassion are elements in the narrative that overpower forces of evil and corruption, which can be seen in how the army of Minas Tirith sacrifices everything against the overwhelming armies of Sauron, to ensure the successful destruction of the One Ring by Frodo in Return of the King. The timelessness of these thematic concerns that can be related to  consistently through human history, such as a sense of comradeship that can be linked to JRR Tolkein’s time in the armyduring the Battle of Somme, contributes to the iconic and timeless nature of the franchise.

Adding onto this, the visual wow-factor of the films are stunning to audiences, as director Peter Jackson’s influence led to much of the film being shot using practical effects, stunts and actors. For instance, a core moment for me in the entire series is the Battle of Helms Deep (The Two Towers) as the battle sequence is almost entirely shot using practical effects. The visual element of battered armour, ornate swords and weaponry mixed with the ghastly faces of orcs and Urukai provoke for the viewer a sense of thrill and excitement, as we are encouraged further to believe in the fantasy onscreen.

The Lord of the Rings is a brilliant series. Of all the films that I have watched, nothing comes as close to home as the original trilogy does. The Hobbit had so much potential, but really didn’t need such unnecessary expansion and tacky, plastic CGI.

Out with the Old, In with the New

With communication medias and technology changing at such a vast and rapid pace, it is interesting to consider how we are changing the ways that we communicate. I am most interested in how we communicate depending on our contexts, whether we may be doing so a personally gratifying sense, or in a professional environment.

When tasked in my New Media, New Asia class to brainstorm in groups what communication is and what forms it takes, we looked at two basic categories: personal use of technologies and media, and professional use.

In a professional sense, whether you are contacting employers, engaging in business, commerce or politics, or even just contacting a professor or teacher, we found that you are more likely to use traditional means of communicating. This includes emails, faxing, verbal telephone calls or even handwritten letters. Conversely, more personal means of communication involve text messaging and a wide range of social media platforms. This includes Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Whatsapp and even dating apps such as Tinder, Scissr or Grindr.

What I gathered from these examples is that presently, leading figures such as CEOs, world leaders and the judiciary, as well as teachers, shop owners and various practitioners, are predominantly of an older generation accustomed to a handful of communication methods. Within a few years, that may change. These are figures of a generation predating the mentally stimulating world of 21st century communication technologies; thus, it is far more appealing for them to be approached for things that are formal or professional with formal and traditional methods of communicating. An employer of an office-based job is highly unlikely to hire someone who only communicates with them via texting or Facebook Messenger.

Furthermore, as I myself am a member of Generation Z, I find that I am more comfortable using informal methods of communicating, which often don’t involve any verbal conversation; even now, businesses and organisations are adapting to the rapidly changing world of communication media, with apps and websites being developed such as LinkedIn. I theorise that in the years to come, the formalities of present day communication in a professional sense will relax, and give way to a more informal and casual style of communicating.

The Historical Context and Cultural Shifts seen between The Last Airbender and Legend of Korra

I consider myself an avid fan of the popularised children’s’/teen television show Avatar: The Last Airbender and, more predominantly, the far more mature Legend of Korra. My keener interest in the latter (LoK) is the vast conceptual, narrative and design-based development taken by creators and producers, Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko. What fascinates me in Legend of Korra is how these factors are inspired by real-world historical and societal contexts, and I sought in this essay to work out why I love it so damn much.

To begin with, let’s look at what divides the two series in Avatar: their settings and societal contexts. The Last Airbender is set in an ancient, barely pre-industrial world, taking a lot of its visual, historical and conceptual inspiration from ancient Chinese history. Legend of Korra retains these historical and social inspirations, however they are recontextualised into a world based on the 1920s-30s in the West. Many fans are critical of the seemingly drastic change of the show’s style as they consider the shift from a near-medieval context to a 20th century setting to be unrealistically fast.

However if we take a closer look at the chronology of the show, the time period between Avatar Aang’s defeat of Fire Lord Ozai in The Last Airbender, and the birth of Avatar Korra in Legend of Korra, spans 53 years. Many consider this to be too short an amount of time for the world to see such immense cultural and technological changes as are seen onscreen. Some may argue that the rate of technological advancement in the Avatar universe far surpasses realistic expectations.  But if we observe history from the late 1800s to the present, we can see that the real world went through a massive amount of change similar to that seen in Legend of Korra.

Industrialisation on a massive scale began as early as the 19th century in Europe. This is referenced in The Last Airbender wherein the Fire Nation is already in a period of industrialisation; yet, the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes still retain almost medieval social values, let alone the capacity for mass industrialisation. This can be seen in The Last Airbender, Book 1, when Katara is initially forbidden from learning to waterbend in combat by the Northern Water Tribe’s strict patriarchal social values.

Adding on to this notion of social values, the end of the First World War gave way to a massive cultural and social shift, the Roaring Twenties, which is reflected in Legend of Korra. An example of a cultural shift across the series is the evident changes in styles of bending, with various techniques blending across elements. This can be seen in the differing earth and metalbending fighting techniques of Toph in TLA and Kuvira in LoK. Toph uses a traditional earthbending style with deep rooted stances and a very clear distinction between when she is being defensive versus offensive. Kuvira, however, earthbends with traditional waterbending techniques, turning an opponent’s attack back onto them in an adaptive and fluid style. This idea that the Great War in the Avatar universe influenced cultural changes down to the way that the elements are bended reflect the cultural changes that occurred in the West following the First World War.

Furthermore, the historical context of the hundred year long war holds similar relevance in how the real world encounter rapid modernization. Tensions within Europe leading up to what became the Great War contributed to massive industrialisation and development of technology such as warships, tanks, automatic guns and artillery. Similarly, as seen in The Last Airbender, the Fire Nation holds a dominant position over the other nations as it has far superior tanks, airships and technology that allow them to hold an upper hand against the less technologically advanced Water Tribes and Earth Kingdom.

But I believe that the ability to bend the elements in the Avatar universe would not only assist in development of technology, but would accelerate its development far beyond what we could ever achieve in the real world. For example, in Legend of Korra Book 1, Chapter 4, it is shown that the firebender Mako uses lightning bending in an industrial job to provide electricity to Republic City. This indicates that in the Avatar universe, not only is the rate of technological and socio-economic advancement realistic, it could easily surpass that of the real world.

Avatar: the Legend of Korra is, from a subjective point of view, is brilliant. It is a brilliantly developed series that has grown from a ‘kids’ cartoon’ to a mature and often challenging show. The narrative itself, in taking cues from historical contexts, provides a clear insight onto history for younger generations, and can also be readily consumed by older audiences as it is visually stunning and elegant.