“Dessau, Germany, 1945. In a camp of displaced persons waiting for repatriation, a Gestapo informer who had pretended to be a refugee is discovered and exposed by a camp inmate whose face is illuminated by the strong, sharp light of rage.”
Henri Cartier-Bresson
One thing I think about–having had some limited exposure (ouch) to the classic photo development process–is that there’s always been manipulation after the initial capture of a shot, to say nothing of the initial editorial decisions involved in selecting what to capture and what to leave out.
But pre-digital manipulations already included use of print-making chemicals of relative strength that affected the contrast and the extent to which a developer chose to burn and dodge (terms which must have little meaning to somebody growing up in our present digital era), not to mention the first precarious stage when the roll itself is developed.
Yes, these are minor compared to the level of transformative digital manipulations but there is a philosophical consideration here. Should photographs be held to a higher standard of realism than other arts because of their unique ability to replicate reality?
Most people engaged in historical study and journalism (often called “the first draft of history”) these days agree that total objectivity in their fields is not possible. The same is true of photography. There can be no pure objectivity though obviously most photographic reproductions are far more likely to be technically correct than paintings. What we can shoot for, though, is what some of the best historical narratives manage, a poetic truth, something that with its combined weight of apt metaphor and factuality can be, synecdochically, more than the sum of its parts and yet avoid the pitfalls of being overly cynical or celebratory.
What is annoying about the most syrupy digital manipulations is that more often than not they are neither beautiful nor revelatory. But I am perhaps particularly biased as I prefer a more raw, documentary style. If I do enjoy the occasional romantic image its probably not going to be a black & white of a gray three-year-old stranger in a gray raincoat with the only color in the brushed photo either a pink umbrella or scarf or something.
I like my romance straight-up, like this:
A couple asleep on a Romanian train (Henri Cartier-Bresson)
