Last Sunday the NY Times mag ran a photo feature on abandoned, half-built real estate projects — casualties of the big bust. The pictures were stunningly otherwordly — eerily lit, human-free canvases of financial devastation. Dayna, my wife, handed me the magazine and asked, “Are these computer generated?” They had, she added, an uncanny-valleyish feel.
The feature noted that photographer Edgar Martins “creates his images with long exposures but without digital manipulation.” Now it turns out the Times has removed the photos from its website and posted an embarrassing editor’s note admitting that the photos had been “digitally manipulated: “Most of the images,” the editors wanly declare, “did not wholly reflect the reality they purported to show.” It seems that, in some sort of misguided effort to create more pleasing images, Martins duplicated and then flipped portions of some photos to create a barely perceptible mirror image: a sort of fearful — but now, we know, bogus — symmetry.
As I read up on the controversy (here’s the original conversation on Metafilter that exposed the matter, here’s Simon Owens’ account of how that happened, and here’s some photographic detail) I had two thoughts: One, sounds like this photographer didn’t come clean to his editors, and that’s unprofessional and probably unforgivable. But, two: the images did not wholly reflect the reality they purported to show? Huh? Does any image? Can any image? Or article, or representation of any sort?
Before I get any more Borgesian on you, let me point you back to the interviews I did with the photographer and multimedia artist Pedro Meyer back in the early 90s — one from the San Francisco Examiner, and one from Wired. (Please note that the Wired piece got mangled somewhere between the magazine and the Web; the intro paragraph appears at the end.)
This, from the Examiner piece:
Pedro Meyer points to one of his photographs and says, “Tell me what’s been altered in this picture.”
The photo shows a huge wooden chair on a pedestal - a Brobdingnagian seat that looms over the buildings in the background with the displaced mystery of an Easter Island sculpture.
It’s difficult to say what’s going on here: A trompe l’oeil perspective trick? Or the product of digital special effects?
Meyer is a serious artist and philosopher of technology, but today he’s playing a little game of “what’s wrong with this picture?”… The truth about the chair photo is that it’s a “straight” image: It’s just a really big chair.
Meyer says he took the shot outside an old furniture factory in Washington, D.C. But the self-evidently transformed pictures that surround it in his exhibit - like that of a pint-sized old woman on a checkerboard table carrying a torch toward an angelic girl many times her size - call its accuracy into question. We stare and distrust our eyes.
So is Pedro Meyer, who started out as a traditional documentary photographer, out to subvert our faith in the photographic image, our notion that “pictures never lie”? You better believe it.
“I think it’s very important for people to realize that images are not a representation of reality,” Meyer says. “The sooner that myth is destroyed and buried, the better for society all around.”
[You can see that chair photo in the "Truths and Fictions" gallery available off this page -- click through to screen 26.]
And this, from the Wired interview:
I’m not suggesting that a photograph cannot be trustworthy. But it isn’t trustworthy simply because it’s a picture. It is trustworthy if someone we trust made it.
You’re interviewing me right now, you’re taking notes and taping the conversation, and at the end you will sit down and edit. You won’t be able to put in everything we talked about: you’ll highlight some things over others. Somebody reading your piece in a critical sense will understand that your value judgments shape it. That’s perfectly legitimate. Turn it around: let me take a portrait of you, and suddenly people say, That’s the way he was.
We don’t trust words because they’re words, but we trust pictures because they’re pictures. That’s crazy. It’s our responsibility to investigate the truth, to approach images with care and caution.
After learning what Meyer was trying to teach me, I can’t get too huffy about Martins’ work. There is no sharp easy line between photos that are “manipulated” and those that aren’t; there is a spectrum of practice, and when a photo is cropped or artificially lit or color-adjusted or sharpened or filtered in any way it is already being manipulated, even if Photoshop is never employed. Martins’ pictures are beautiful and arresting, and if he’d simply told the world what he was up to, I don’t think anyone would be too upset.
Of course, if Martins had been forthright the Times would probably not have printed his work, because it has an institutional commitment to, I guess, attempt to “wholly reflect” reality. Somehow.
I don’t demand that of photographers or journalists or newspapers. I just ask them to tell me what they’re up to. As David Weinberger put it at the Personal Democracy Forum: “Transparency is the new objectivity.”


Salon.com
Comments
This seems to be a nonsensical cover for something wicked.
Imagine the following hypothetical event:
Times want to report on an important issue and, to be fair and balanced, it interviews two politicians, A and B. Every participant at the scene (both politicians A and B, and the Times reporter) know that Politician A happens to be telling what he believes is the truth, while Politician B - standing on the opposite side - lies blatantly and throws out half a dozen red herrings to distract attention.
The reporter asked not a single question to reveal the lies.
Then the Times, in its relentless pursuit of being fair and truthful, publishes verbatim what was said. Without mentioning that B was lying.
If you ask Times, you will hear that it reported on what was said, and not what may have been the truth outside of what was said.
Good citizen C then reads the "reliable" news source and has no clue of B's tactics. He thinks there are two valid, and honest competing opinions out there on the issue.
If one reads the Times (or any "credible" media) one will find similar situations there every day.
But they are hung up on the "lies" created by the digitally altered fragments, that most likely covered an empty bucket, a can of paint or a stray dog looking into the camera. Things that the photographer may have covered up.
Those who bend over backwards trying to prove they are 100% truthful are usually not.
Did you ever have the feeling that who start the sentence with "To be perfectly honest..." may start a lie with it?
This seems to be a nonsensical cover for something wicked.
Imagine the following hypothetical event:
Times want to report on an important issue and, to be fair and balanced, it interviews two politicians, A and B. Every participant at the scene (both politicians A and B, and the Times reporter) know that Politician A happens to be telling what he believes is the truth, while Politician B - standing on the opposite side - lies blatantly and throws out half a dozen red herrings to distract attention.
The reporter asked not a single question to reveal the lies.
Then the Times, in its relentless pursuit of being fair and truthful, publishes verbatim what was said. Without mentioning that B was lying.
If you ask Times, you will hear that it reported on what was said, and not what may have been the truth outside of what was said.
Good citizen C then reads the "reliable" news source and has no clue of B's tactics. He thinks there are two valid, and honest competing opinions out there on the issue.
If one reads the Times (or any "credible" media) one will find similar situations there every day.
But they are hung up on the "lies" created by the digitally altered fragments, that most likely covered an empty bucket, a can of paint or a stray dog looking into the camera. Things that the photographer may have covered up.
Those who bend over backwards trying to prove they are 100% truthful are usually not.
Did you ever have the feeling that he who starts the sentence with "To be perfectly honest..." may start a lie with it?
I don't think it's really all that problematic. No more than printing fiction, but claiming it's non-fiction. It's always a question of context, and how important a factual representation is in that particular circumstance.
I'm not much concerned with the digital manipulation itself, though the pictures shouldn't have been represented otherwise. Yeah, the manipulations are there and obvious once pointed out. Are they deceptive in any significant sense? I don't know for sure, but I don't think so.
The very nature of representative photography is manipulative. The photographer chooses their subject, points the camera, chooses the exposure and settings, and finally chooses when to click the shutter. In the middle are dozens of other tiny decisions that manipulate the final image that results. You can crop digitally for sure ... the mere act of setting up a camera necessarily "crops" the world into a static representation of it.
Photography is manipulation at its very core. Photographers manipulate reality every time they snap a picture, by freezing a tiny, cropped image of a far more complex and dynamic world. Photographers have further manipulated the image with lighting, setting, composition, and a dozen other factors. They double-expose, and under-expose, on purpose and by accident. Now, they can add digital manipulation to the mix, but its just another way to manipulate reality. That's always been the whole point of photography to one degree or another, by it's very nature, and design.
I think Rob's notion of significant deception is interesting. Setting aside the Borgesian maze for a moment, why did Edgar Martins find it necessary to manipulate the pictures? In at least two of his manipulations, he was choosing symmetry. We are attuned to symmetry and scientists say we find it beautiful. But what purpose did it serve as an exposition of the stated subject of the photo-essay? We were told the photo-essay was about abandoned real-estate, but we got a house of mirrors.
We learn that seeing is believing. Then we learn believing isn't knowing.
I think Pedro's point is that even if the context is photojournalism and there is no attempt to manipulate a photo in the ways that we traditionally define "manipulate," the photograph is still legitimately subject to questions about its representational reality.
Taking an old camera that has no special settings or lenses (can you tell I don't know photographers' lingo?), one must still click at a certain time--perhaps at the single moment the subject has smiled all day, or not smiled for that matter. And the photographer is still taking it from one physical angle and distance from the subject, which can narrow or broaden the accompanying landscape.
It seems clear that this particular instance, where the mag specifically denied a process that happened, is an easy and obvious example of unethical or at least unprofessional photojournalism. But I agree with Scott that the wording of the editor's note is surprisingly complex and provocative. And I appreciate Pedro's comparison to an interview with a print journalist versus a photographer. People do trust images more. Remember that film about the fairy photographs taken in some English garden at the turn of the century? That was my first introduction to the interesting philosophical question of what is real.
Farhad Manjoo's book comes to mind as well. (True Enough). People often wish they had a camera or a video recorder when they disagree on something (I'm thinking about arguments between siblings or spouses), but the photo and video images from 9/11 prove that we can all be looking at the identical images and coming to different conclusions about what's real.
By the way, Scott, thanks for introducing me to the expression uncanny valley. I'd never heard that before, but now I have a word to describe my friends loathing of primates at the zoo, in particular the orangutans and the chimps. They're so like humans it freaks her out.
"It is trustworthy if someone we trust made it."
look at how divided our country is right now, simply because of the fact we can choose multiple purveyors of "news" to believe. people who trust bill o'reilly do not vet his remarks: they consume them by the hundreds and repeat them to their friends in a hugely destructive game of telephone.
if you rely on credentials for truth, you're already less critical of what you are told. if you don't know what assumptions you're making when you seek truth, you won't know how to vet claims. it's like when nasa first got pictures back from mars, and assumed the sky was blue.
Well. I had nothing but contempt for that. Until I almost--almost--heard those words coming out of my own mouth when Dennis Loo and others wanted to know why Obama wasn't stronger on torture. Indeed, many liberals are saying, "I don't know but I trust Obama." For the first time, I understood what Bush's supporters had actually been thinking all those years. And that's a scary, scary place to be.
thanks for writing this. the example that immediately sprang to mind was this set of pictures of john mccain, taken for atlantic monthly.