Group of men, photographer unknown, early 1900’s   (larger)

Exploring the image of the men in this photograph was an unsettling exercise at first. Closer examination brought relief with heightened curiosity. The time the photo was taken, given the quality of the paper, its wear, and the original size (3,1/4 x 3,1/4 inches) places it firmly within the first two decades of the 20^th Century. We see a group of men wielding axes, a club, a shotgun and a woodsman’s bucksaw pretending to dismember a man who is lying across a chord-wood sawhorse. The supposed executioners are placed for the photograph, holding their instruments of horror in varying positions of readiness. The man on the far left is holds his ax, striking a pose of anxious anticipation as he stares at the photographer/viewer. As our eye moves around the group we see each man affecting his own style of pretend execution.

There are three peculiar poses that take the narrative in an unusual direction. The central standing figure holding the wrist of the victim takes on a conciliatory role as chief confessor, or warden.

A man on the left points a double-barrel shotgun at the captive.

The most unusual figure stands to the far right. This man is holding a feedbag around his waist to mimic the form of a dress. His knickers are drawn up to his knees, and he is pointing his left toe, with his knee bent, as if to affect a posture that is demure, yet also whimsical .

With this crude attempt at female representation, the implications in the entire scene changes. The identity of the victim and aggressor/s change places. The tool and weapon wielding men adopt a judicial role, meting out justice, while the sullied damsel watches. Seeing the smiles on most of the men’s faces along with the passivity of the captive man gives us some assurance this is play-acting, but the man in drag is the scene’s most obvious charade.

The horse and handler, mostly obscured in the middle left background, are a dubious placement. Nevertheless the horse's ears are pinned back, indicating anger or discomfort. If we follow the theoretical narrative through, we might imagine the horse is the confiscated property of the condemned man.

With most group snapshots, there are smiling, scowling, or preoccupied people, waiting for the moment the photographer is finished so they can resume the normalcy and flow of their local routines. Then we find the moments of surprise and spontaneity in an image of people being pitifully playful. They create a fully formed narrative with components of rougish clowning, mixed with a sense of history, or with some hint at a moral theme.

Looking back through century-old photograpic images is a joy and privilege. It gives the mind a safe and illuminating province where fiction can germinate, sometimes handing us a story that is ingenuine or real, challenging us to travel in time.