![]() Today I felt as if I came out of my last class just beaming. My freshman seminar, Photography and Literature, was absolutely intriguing. Three hours went by as if they were three minutes. Around seven other people are in this seminar with me, the professor is new, and this is the first time that this class has been listed. Somehow, all of these things combined to create a class that is refreshing; it just feels there are little bits of passion or newness, and maybe just a slight hint of something strikingly fresh—like when you get that after-taste of citrus when drinking freshly squeezed, maybe-a-little-too-sour lemonade. I’m not really sure how to describe it, but I loved it. Before class this week, the professor asked us to read Barthes’ Camera Lucida, which is a collection of musings on photography, mostly regarding theory, purpose, and essence in photography as a medium. When I first read this book, I probably only understood an optimistic half of it—this guy is really dense and philosophical, I guess. After discussion in class, I felt a little clearer. We spoke mostly about Barthes’ claim that photography, as a medium in itself, is actually quite useless. He claims that photography is just about the only “art” form in which the medium is nothing without its referent, or object/person. In painting, drawing, sculpting, etc., every stroke, shape and texture is purposeful and is meaningful. In photography, no such equivalent exists. Even the angle of the photograph and other “artistic” methods are only in relation to the referent. The photograph itself is a flat piece of paper. Then, Barthes argues that, in a way, even the referent itself is not meaningful in itself. The picture is merely a record of “what has been,” merely evidence of something that was there. This is where I became interested: The only thing that gives a photograph value is the value it creates in you. In other words, the photo, as a medium, is always contingent, always depending on the relationship it has with the observer, or spectator. Sure, this may be true for all “art,” but other art seems to have so many extraneous factors, so many complications, so many ways that the medium itself has meaning that change this simple relationship set forward by photography: the referent, the observer, and the medium which relies completely on both parties being present. I now realize that this mirrors so much in our own lives, in our daily living. So many times we are focused on how, or we get caught up with the little things that come along with that how. There are a million distractors—things that are pretty, intricate, and so aesthetically pleasing that somehow the two ends of the relationship become less important: in Barthes’ terms, the spectator and the referent, but in our terms, us and our living, our saints, and our Lord. Since when is our living about anything but this pure relationship? Since when is it about how we “paint” it, how we make it look, how nice and intricate our proposed medium is? We have a beautiful relationship because of the relationship, not because we create a medium that looks to be more beautiful than the two ends for which it was made. Our medium is our spirit, our connection to the only end that matters. And for that matter, our spirit is actually contingent on both sides . . . We have to be willing to release our spirit and the Lord receives our spirit (actually, that is all we can offer). A healthy spirit requires a complete subduing and a complete purity; every other part we think will help this medium, this connection is actually just superfluous and clouds the relationship. Looking even further, we see that not only is the means contingent upon the sources, but that the sources are contingent upon the means as well. In this symbiotic relationship lies the beauty that is our spiritual connection; the Lord gave us a singular way to be one with Him, just as the seemingly ordinary piece of paper we call a photograph is the only way we could ever be touched by the referent in the picture. In this thinking, Barthes has it correct. The most beautiful relationship—what makes photography a beautiful medium and what makes our spirit the most beautiful medium—is that which is pure, singular, and completely dependent on each end and the connection between them. Lord, we have a spirit! How beautiful.
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