Red stop lights against deep orange dawn light in the purple of the night blend (16 April 2024)
This grab shot of the dawn light is good enough as writing prompt, but as a likeness to the visual experience via eyeball and brain it is a poor representation. Probably a fancier camera and more time to compose the shot, or at least to finesse the exposure, would give a result that is closer to the original feeling of awe and wonder. But even that would be two-dimensional with imposed borders to the viewing area. The raw experience was immersive in three dimensions and with time’s passing to make the colors change and the clouds move. In the original moment there was no picture frame to cut off the adjacent context since the central vision supplied the sharp details and color, while the peripheral vision filled in the surrounding spaces and range of light values. And, of course, at this busy intersection the cross-traffic was streaking past at speed, lending to the sense of surprise at such fine beauty in the distance even as commuters motored along with their minds on the road, the radio or some other audio accompaniment to pass the time, but maybe oblivious of the breaking light of this morning.
By analogy from the experiential gap between image and reality, there is something similar that happens in a larger sense. One’s life experience is filled with things that defy verbal description or maybe exceed one’s power of reasoning, too. Communicating to others inevitably loses something in the translation from raw event to spoken (or written or recorded) words. Unintended meanings may well tag along while other things that felt significant, fail to elicit similar impressions on others who were not present. Thus, it is worth acknowledging this gap between original instance of something and any rendition that is derivative to the source material. For practical or economic purposes the frail and provisional version of the sturdy original might function all right as a place holder, as the basis to begin a discussion, or as something suitable to illustrate a point. So there is value in a sketch, photo, recording, or verbal summary. But there should never be any confusion between the “real thing” and its portrayal later.
Like a hall of mirrors, there are many layers of a visual subject, beginning with the source material. Standing in the presence of the landscape to admire is about being there; cohabiting the same time-space continuum, infinitessimally exerting gravitational forces between self and surroundings, since all mass – big or small – comes with a gravity dimension. For the sake of this essay, let us say the subject is a mountain bathed in the warm light of the Golden Hour. One step removed from the raw experience of being there is the verisimilitude of a photograph, “written with light” and lens. The three-dimensional subject and its surroundings are flattened to two-dimensions and a frame separates what is adjacent and juxtaposed to the subject from all that is excluded and non-juxtaposed. Another layer of separation comes from visual representation without the optical precision of a lens: brush, pen, or pastel stick applied to paper or canvas, for example. Whether the approach of the hand-created picture is “photo-realistic” or is in an abstract style, the result is removed from the original subject. The display of framed art at the top of this essay is a set of fine print reproductions from original landscape paintings and linocut prints; in other words, copies of art. Closely related to mechanical reproduction is the case of journalistic capture of artwork to be published; for example, a report of a new exhibition of statues and two-dimensional art. Those photojournalistic images may introduce special lighting, standpoint, or filters – at the risk of “gilding the lily” (adding superfluous artistry to something already fully artistic). Then when a person picks up the published magazine or exhibition guide with its photos of the actual pieces of art that themselves derive from real-life subjects, all together so many layers of visual representation are brought together.
As well as the layers of editorial decisions about what is depicted and how it comes across, another complication occurs when an all-color original subject is transposed to monochrome or grayscale for the sake of printing technology, or because the publisher and author impose their own ideas about how best to document the artist’s expression.
Considering all these ways that a viewer may first discover a place or event that is portrayed, it is worth remembering that lived experience more generally –not just visual art– has similar layers of perception. The first-person experience of a place or event can be engaged in shallowly or deeply, depending on the degree of knowledge and interest and purposes brought to the viewing experience: casual, professional, entrepreneurial, nostalgic, and so on. Then the many levels of visual representation interpose a certain amount of distance between viewer and the subject. Now there is a frame, there is a particular moment frozen in time (timeless) and particular standpoint. Recognizing the limitations of representations versus the original place or event helps viewers to know the kinds of dimensions being lost. That way, with a bit of imagination, the viewer can attempt to synthesize mass, volume, changing light or weather conditions, and the contiguities that a composition cuts off by drawing a frame around the subject.
This night view during the 2023 “Winter Wonderland” illuminations in downtown Grand Rapids, Michigan is a photo of an electronic interpretation of the sky portion of Vincent Van Gogh’s 1889 oil painting, “The Starry Night.” Presumably the artist began with an observable subject or compiled multiple visual experiences, then expressed the scene on canvas. That painting was reproduced on T-shirts, coffee cups, puzzles, posters, wrapping paper, shower curtains and so on. The electronic LED artists got acquainted with the painting in one of these many forms before making their own rendition, of which this night photo is made.
Thanks to digital pictures and portable Internet devices, people in many parts of the world typically see thousands of images per day, most of which are skimmed over, rather than scrutinized with care or self-aware, critical thinking. But looking at the photo at the top of this essay, it is clear that the translation from 3-D to 2-D, either photographic or hand-created comes with great losses. Looking at the matter in reverse, though, maybe the rendition distills some truths or essential meanings that would not be noticeable without the eye and hand of the visual artist. In any case, because readers will probably be accustomed to interpreting 2-D pictures very happily, that loss from 3-D (being co-present with the source subject in its surrounding context) to 2-D is not usually felt. Yet, now in this essay problematizing some of the layers of visual echoes from the original subject, perhaps readers will see the flood of daily images in a new light, able to appreciate the in-person visual experience at a higher value.
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