First
things first: I'm not into jazz, know virtually nothing of American
jazz yet I do know that Darius Brubeck, who contributed the foreword
to this tome, is the son of the legendary Dave Brubeck. My interest
is in photography, my musical preference has long been Rock and Pop,
and I imagine that to photograph a rockband or a jazz combo isn't
that different. Moreover, I'm fully aware that I cannot do justice to
this work which is why I concentrate on a few rather randomly chosen
aspects that caught my attention.
„Taking
pictures isn't as easy as it looks. In my experience it is rare
indeed that all four members of my quartet are identifiable in a
concert shot. From stage left, my back is to the camera; from our
front, the cymbal is in front of the drummer's face; from stage
right, the bass player is blocking me or I'm just too far away –
and so on“, Darius Brubeck describes good-humouredly his
photo-frustrations.
It
goes without saying that photographers will go differently about
their challenges. Alan John Ainsworth comments: „What are we to
make of the contrasts between these two almost contemporaneous
photographs? In terms of generation, race, location, presentation,
style, and repertoire, the players seem as far removed from each
other as it is possible to be. It is hardly surprising that there is
little agreement among jazz scholars about the definition of the jazz
tradition; some even question whether there is such a tradition.“
Hardly suprising indeed. As in every other field of study, one feels
like adding.
Photographers
are as different as jazz musicians or politicians. So what do
photographers who take pictures of jazz musicians have in common? A
common affinity with jazz, writes author Alan John Ainsworth, an
independent scholar based in Edinburgh, whose own affinity can be
felt on every page. Sight Readings is a book for aficonados.
„Jazz photographs have always been important to fans, enthusiasts,
and collectors.“
Sight
Readings is one of these rare tomes on music that also deals with
photo theory which, like all theory, is basically an attempt to come
to grips with a complexity that has been – often unnecessarily, as
far as I'm concerned – created in the first place. This is the way
I see it: Picture taking is not a science, to frame is more an
intuitive process than a thoughtful consideration of all the elements
in play. This is however not how Alan John Ainsworth seems to see it:
„Framing is implemented by photographers both at a conceptual
level, involving primarily the selection and/or exclusion of specific
subjects, and through visual composition, a series of necessary and
contingent decisions concerning exposure, light and shadow, focus,
movement, viewpoint and relational hierarchies, and the boundaries of
the frame. These decisions interact in myriad ways to bring to
fruition the vision of the photographer. Conceptualising a subject
and creating a visual frame are modalities that both constrain and
liberate the exercise of agency in production, and their interactions
are key to understanding the nature of photographic agency.“
Alan
John Ainsworth portrays the photographer as fully conscious of what
is going on when he takes his pictures. He however also states: „In
making the case for photographic agency it must not be assumed that
the photographer's original intentions will always be known,
articulated, or applied: as Walker Evans said, 'People often read
things into my work, but I did not consciously put these things in
the photographs.'“
Photographers
are mainly acting unconsciously. This not only applies to
photographers, this applies to all of us – in my view, we have only
a very foggy idea of what we are doing and take only very rarely a
conscious decision in any kind of process. Rationalisations in
hindsight is what our conscious mind is mostly busy with.
However,
this book is about something else – a demonstration of the
enthusiasm of its author, highly reflective, very sophisticated, and
greatly interpretative. He quotes Susan Sontag who warned that „to
interpret is to impoverish, to deplete the world“ (which is a
rather strange statement given the fact that we interpret – albeit
unconsciously – around the clock) but his lucid interpretations
based on profound knowledge provide quite the opposite – they
enrich our awareness of the world.
Here's
an example: „What have come to be known as cross-modal
correspondences between the senses suggest that sound can enliven
sight, sight can enliven sound, and that both in combination enhance
memory recall of an event through their mimetic fidelity; and the
greater the congruence between cross-modal sensory changes, the
greater the mutual influence. W.J.T. Mitchell, for instance, has
questioned whether any medium can be described as purely
visual, tactile or auditory. He concluded that all visual media turn
out to involve the other senses.“ By the way, Mr Mitchell also
considers pictures living things. Well, why then distinguish media in
the first place, one might wonder.
Although
I see things very differently (my definition of living is practical,
not academic), there's no doubt in my mind that photographs and
music, both celebrations of the moment, can influence each other.
That however does not depend on the photograph but on what the one
looking at it brings to it. I think Alan John Ainsworth's attempt to
identify, describe and explain the photographer's intentions in order
to interpret what is before one's eyes most useful for the more we
know of how a picture came about, the more we are able to see in it.
But
can the sounds of jazz be visualised? Not in my view. There are
however paralleles between photography and music – both need to be
felt, for instance. They also have the improvised moments in common.
Nevertheless, there is a considerable difference: Music is fleeting,
A tone will immediately be replaced by the next one. Yet the moment
in time that the photograph attempts to catch is meant to be lasting.
Sight
Recordings also introduced me to quite some intriguing
photographers that I had so far never heard of – and this alone
merits my interest in this book. Clemens Kalischer, for instance, the
German-born exile in America who photographed on his own terms:
„avoiding the constructed portrayals of the portrait photographer
or the declamatory urge of the documentary photographer, he let his
scenes unfold, always ready to be surprised.“ Or Fred Plaut, a
German Jewish émigré, born in Munich in 2007, who moved to America
in 1940 and rarely went anywhere without his camera. He would accept
neither posing nor money for his photographs.
I
think this scholarly book enlightening and, at times, frustrating.
Take for instance a statement like this: „Historians have been
especially slow to accept visual evidence, preferring to rely on
texts rather than the deeper levels of experience that images
convey.“ Very true indeed yet what exactly are „ the deeper
levels of experience that images convey“? Moreover, interpretations
of the unconscious (that, by definition, we cannot know) I consider
preposterous. What the author conveys (images do not convey anything)
is his passion, his insight, his scholarly arguments. And, he does
that wonderfully.
It
is also true, that individual photographers and their intentions are
rarely of concern to writers, be they historians or reporters. This
isn't likely to change for most people do not regard photography as
art but as a rather simple undertaking that everybody can perform.
Which, needless to say, is as true as it is not. Even
chimpanzees can do a good picture, David Bailey once said. And then
added, smilingly: „But I can do two.“
In
oder to achieve their goal, photographers have at their disposal
„many combinations of lenses, films, light sources and darkroom
manipulations“, as Dennis Stock once stated. William Claxton
explained his approach as follows: „I study them carefully before
photographing them (...) I note how their faces and bodies reflect or
catch the light, when and at what angles they look their best. I do
all this, of course, while listening to their playing. I listen with
my eyes.“
Sight
Readings is a very dense text, an
easy read it is not. The author convincingly demonstrates that the
seemingly simple act of taking photographs is a highly complex
affair. I felt at times reminded of the law that also imposes a
highly complex construct of ideas on seemingly simple conflicts.
It
is rare that somebody brings so much profound knowledge to the
reading of pictures. To delve into the complexity of photographic
agency that Alan John Ainsworth describes as „the imposition of an
inner-directed personal vision and identity on the image“ widens
not only the horizon but also brings much into consciousness that
many have very probably never thought about.
Alan
John Ainsworth
Sight
Readings
Photographs
and American Jazz, 1900-60
intellect,
Bristol UK/Chicago, USA 2022
