Unreliable narrator, unreliable mirror, too

See moving image to watch undulating, uneven reflections of river flowing toward the 3.5m dam

Literary critics call an unreliable narrator a figure in the book whose descriptions later turn out to have (purposefully or not) led the reader to the wrong grasp of the situation, either by giving inaccurate information directly, or by misrepresenting things with indirect suggestions about what is going on and its significance or relationship to other events in the story. Something similar could be said for parts of an image that distort in minor or major ways what the viewer understands of the situation. Jumping to another analogy –this one not about misperception or misapprehending, but instead about emotional temperature or “feeling” imparted– interior decorators know (as do cinema lighting experts) that changing the lightbulb or fitting a color gel filter (color temperature of ‘warm’ versus ‘cool’), the position of the light (and thus the corresponding shadow detail, too), and the distance from the light source can dramatically give different effects to the same location. Perhaps the reflecting surface also smuggles in a certain “feeling” or mood to the scene; that is, a perfectly flat glass surface will reflect subjects with minimal distortion. But a fun-house mirror will absurdly bend the lines that form an image. In-between these opposing extremes, there are other reflecting surfaces that introduce varying degrees of distortion. These are capable of affecting a viewer’s experience of the subjects appearing there: chrome hubcap, show window, or the moving water of the river in the image, above.

By extension from images to the thinking that goes on in one’s head, on one’s journal pages, or in conversations with others, it is natural to ask about the texture or surface affecting one’s own view of the world: is the person’s vision dim or bright, blurry or sharp, tinted or desaturated, even or distorted with some wiggles. If the reflections afforded by the flowing river, above, are any indication, then imperfect surfaces can still communicate a beautiful image. Let us hope the same is true of each person’s mind, too.

Looking for more than what eyes see

Kayak view of shallow lake surface and what lies below, October 10 Lower Herring Lake (Benzie Co).

This photo includes a mirrored subject (treeline along lakeshore), a water surface subject (ripples and pollen floating; kayak hull), and the underwater lake plants partly visible in the light waves bent by the refracting water. Looking beyond the boundaries of this picture, just about any scene will contain multiple layers of subject matter. What attracts one person’s eye may differ from what draws someone else’s attention. In a familiar place or routine passage, perhaps the viewer hardly notices what is in the scene unless there is something out of place, different, or a subject in motion that automatically calls for the person to look toward it. But in a first-time visit the novelty naturally appeals to the viewer to make sense of what is there to identify; what is known or unknown; what is familiar or strange. By extension, a local resident can see with new eyes by visiting with a newcomer or a child filled with wondering eyes and lots of questions. Besides the amount of experience or prior knowledge that a person brings to a place, there are other dimensions to look for when eyes are not particularly interested in seeing all the meanings that are present there at the same time.

Layers of subjects and significance in a place include the many time-scales: geological, millennial, human lifespan, or the short cycle of insect lives lived out there. As well, there are the differing living creatures’ cycles of season and environment of air, water, land and underground: the biological kingdoms of animals, plants, and fungi. Layers of historical period allow a viewer to extract meaning from a place, too: each era implies a particular set of technologies, popular imagination, life chances, and world view. And when more than one ethnic, religious, or linguistic group live in a landscape at the same historical period then these diversities add still more layers of meaning to interpret of the place.

Returning to the co-incident images that overlap in the above photo, it is possible to look for meanings that go beyond what the eye sees at first glance. For any particular composition or place one is part of, there will be things that attract attention to begin with, but other things that come to matter as time goes along and vision adjusts to the wider range of meanings that are being played out coincidentally. There will almost always be a surface meaning, an abstract reflection of some more distant meaning, and sometimes there will also be something under the surface that can be seen as conditions shift.

Angle of sun and lens produces new vision

A few days before the first day of spring 2021 with sun low and camera lens low.

Judging from the pebbly composition of the sidewalk, this mix of aggregate and cement went in the ground before the 1970s. But on a cloudy day, at dusk or dark, or in broad daylight, the condition of surface texture and glare from countless shoes polishing the small stones would go unnoticed. Only with the low angle of the sun on a clear morning does the surface stand out. This effect is amplified by squatting closer to the ground and pointing the lens into the sun or the reverse, putting the sun directly behind the lens.

This brief observation illuminated by the morning light invites a larger meaning, too. Most days and times this section of the sidewalk is unremarkable; not at all eye-catching. So for photowalkers the first hour of daylight (or the last; so-called Golden Hour) can beam a powerful point-source “spotlight” on surfaces, both vertical and horizontal, as well as dramatizing subjects with exaggerated shadows. And for those with a philosophical inclination, perhaps the meaning of this momentary out-of-the-ordinary moment is that commonplace things can reveal aspects that most times are invisible, of which they go unnoticed. In other words, no matter how unremarkable the subject or setting, when the light and your own angle in relation to that scene are just right, then sometimes totally unexpected vision opens up. In particular for extremely low-angle and especially bright light, one is treated to enhanced appreciation for the surface pattern, quality of touch, and shine (or the lack of polishing). Even if that quickly passing vision offers nothing more than brief visual delight, rather than some cosmic insight, there is still worth that comes from adding an entirely invisible aspect to one’s experience of the subject. Ever after, that plain spot will carry memory and meaning that goes beyond the particular day, season, and hour. Now it will also carry that aspect that reveals itself but rarely – its shiny, but also bumpy dimension.

With subjects and spaces other than this instance of a section of sidewalk, too, by paying extra attention and having a good look around at times when the light is rare, and by adopting an especially low (or high) angle of incidence to that source of illumination, then one may enjoy vision that most times is unobtainable and is not possible to express. Indeed, photo+graphos [writing with light] really does depend on the quality of light to attain the fullest meaning that is possible, either by its presence or by its absence.