Last week, I was browsing through the New York Times when I came across a very intriguing article entitled "The 'Shame of Memory' Haunts a War Photographer" in the photojournalism blog "Lens." The first section of the piece described how Don McCullin, a world-renowned war photographer, had recently received several prestigious awards not with pride, but with self-reproach instead. His phenomenal work has borne witness to global atrocities such as extreme starvation and genocide, but McCullin delineated a certain guilt of not having been able to help, in any direct way, the subjects of his profound yet frightening images. He constantly copes with the "shameful memory" of having been a mere bystander in events, according to the article, as calamitous as executions.
Initially, McCullin's "shame of memory" reminded me of Orleanna Price's guilt of not having objected to the "conquest of Africa" in The Poisonwood Bible (8-9). She claimed that she, as a conquest herself by her husband and already burdened by the responsibility of caring for her family, had no power and time to care about the resource, political, and human labor exploitation of the Congolese by the Belgians and other foreigners. When she eventually left the country (the chapter is narrated by Orleanna looking back at her past experiences in Africa), the one question on page 9 that she asked herself was, "How do we aim to live with it?"
McCullin seems to have responded to his "shame of memory" by losing hope in the power of photography to change the world. Because the global atrocities that were the center of his work continue to exist, McCullin believes images are futile and inconsequential. Is there any other way in which McCullin can reconcile his memory of shameful inaction with the potential power that other quoted photographers in the article such as John Morris believe excellent war images have in shocking regular people?
The last half of the article grapples with that question by discussing how perilous going to Syria is for photojournalists. Many agree that the world should be cognizant of the hundred thousand deaths that have so far been caused by the conflict, but most major publications consider sending their photographers to Syria as thoughtless. What implications might this problem have for us?
As a visual learner, any memory that I have of learning in history about Nazi death camps or the My Lai Massacre has come from the textbooks' supplementary photographs rather than the main text. Perhaps, statistics and other exact facts elaborated in readings and lectures may escape me, but the emotions of horror and disgust that I felt when I viewed such images will surely stay with me for a long time. I've read quite a bit about the deplorable humanitarian crisis in Syria, but the news articles describing the current standoff between Bashar al-Assad and the Free Syrian Army are not as effective as the few existing photographs in both preserving the sights of war that I have no experience of seeing firsthand and galvanizing the emotions. If fewer photojournalists are going to Syria to take pictures, what substantive memory might I have in the future of, for example, the devastating effects of the chemical weapons on those affected, a very contentious issue for the international community? Don McCullin described the futility of war photographs in working to eliminate the global atrocities that we see today; however, is there another medium with which we can look back into the past and clearly recognize what problems we need to fix?
I don't disagree that "passive" photography may bring about a "memory of shame," but I do believe that photographs are very effective in containing the memories that we have of what happened in the past because they're so timeless. So, I hope that one day, we may all see the depth and power of such photographs and truly realize what McCullin really hoped for.
Article: http://lens.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/09/09/the-shame-of-memory-haunting-war-photographers/?_r=0
"Perhaps, statistics and other exact facts elaborated in readings and lectures may escape me, but the emotions of horror and disgust that I felt when I viewed such images will surely stay with me for a long time." Agreed. All the photographs of the Holocaust--ghettos, bodies, survivors--are so powerful and disturbing.
ReplyDeleteThis raises an interesting issue, because on the one hand, it is natural to feel some guilt about not being able to do much, but on the other hand, what could anyone have done about it? They could have raised awareness about the issue, but isn't that what they (meaning the photographers) were doing in photographing these horrible events? It's interesting that one would feel guilt for doing something very important, just not *the* thing that could end all the suffering going on.
ReplyDeleteWhile I agree that photographs may be emotionally powerful, they are not always as effective as some would like. In the jumble of cyber-information, one disturbing picture may only be one of many that a person sees in a day and that one picture may soon be forgotten. Even if someone does not forget, the picture is only an arrangement of pixels on a two-dimensional screen. Someone will see it, say "Wow, that's really terrible," and then move on with their day. People still will feel as if they cannot do anything because they are half a world away. It will be added to a list of tragedies, but nothing will ever be done about it. The picture cannot overcome these perceived boundaries. While it may be better than the alternatives simply because it can elicit some emotional response (as opposed to statistics), it is not the solution.
ReplyDeleteI agree with Rohan that although there is a certain degree of guilt from being powerless to help, what could really be done? We always talk about how "change begins with one person" and "you can make a difference," but these phrases often seem to be misinterpreted. It's definitely true that change begins with a small group of people, but any major change requires many people to get involved. One person can only do so much by him or herself, and McCullin should not feel guilty for what he has done. In his own way, he attempted to gather popular support to fight global atrocities, but people simply did not rise to the call. Failure in spite of constant effort is something no one should be ashamed of.
ReplyDeleteI also agree that McCullin's guilt is unnecessary. He is blaming himself for failing to execute a feat that would be hard for a thousand people to complete. However, I do believe that one lesson we can learn from McCullin's philosophy is that excellent war images do hold and evoke timeless memories and emotions. Using that unique aspect of photographs to change the opinions of many people about a certain subject may be plausible.
DeleteLeaving aside the role of photographs in evoking emotions and creating or resurfacing memories, I believe the actual power and role of memories is more important to analyze. Why exactly should we keep those memories alive if all they do is make us feel guilty for untaken actions? I submit that the everyone has the responsibility to capture and feed their memories so that they will recognize when history is repeating itself and learn from mistakes. This sort of duty necessitates not only glancing over pictures so many times that they become ingrained in our subconscious, but actively unpacking all that they convey and argue and storing THOSE things in our memory.
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