the lens is a filter.
i am staring at a photo i took of a friend recently, who is regarding me in return through the camera lens. i am trying to discern his expression, to understand whether it is explicitly for me or just a product of having one’s picture taken. without the intermediary lens, i am a pretty accurate reader of emotional content in people’s eyes, but the flat image on my screen leaves me uncertain. i can’t see what he’s feeling.
another photo, an actual print snapshot from college, shows a group gathered around a table. unnoticed at the time i took the photo, a friend peeks out from the corner, shaking her fist at me and scowling. now, when i look at the image, i remember how angry she was at me that day even though i didn’t know it when the shutter clicked.
in this way, information accumulates slowly in the reading of a photograph over time, beyond the immediate recording of physical details. i’m working out how this is tied to the act of photography, rather than looking at an image made by someone else. maybe it’s time to revisit camera lucida again.
