The initial paragraphs point out that documentary photography, although regularly regarded as a "passive recording" of events, cannot exist without constructing a relation between "photographer and image, photographer and viewer, image and viewer;" it is not an end in itself, it is a means, an approach (Emerling, 83). Though the name implies an objective documentation of events, the idea of documentary photography as witness also implicates all the inaccuracies, misunderstandings, and false information that accompany an observer's impression. Furthermore, the author discusses the debate that concerns favoring a dispassionate approach that 'avoids' a person's influence over the incorporation of an aesthetic style that supposedly depreciates the validity of the photograph's truth.
"Documentary photography demands addressing not only changing, often contradictory, notions of the relation between the photographic image and reality, but also how and why each and every photograph is simultaneously a document and a work of visual art. These are not opposing predicates, nor are they entirely isolatable" (Emerling, 84).These points remind us that each photograph we examine must be done so with an awareness and consciousness of the conditions that produced it and that currently affect its meaning. This is what Emerling labels as our "civil contract," or our responsibility as observers to recognize the photograph's reality and that what is contained in the image is only a portion of what was present at the time. In actively observing our "civil contract," we can recognize that documentary photographs cannot be fully understood unless we incorporate context and observe the effect of a contemporary perspective into our analysis; all the while we avoid dehumanizing the photograph's subjects, we discern what separates one component from another.
The ability to transcend Western metaphysics showcases an aspect of photography that is immediately retained but rarely inspected. Hippolyte Bayard's acknowledgement of the "troubling relation between image and text, photograph and death, presence and absence" hints at the creation of a different existence or world to be examined, something that preserves what is physically gone, a past reality that is both immortalized and absent because of its unchangeability (Emerling, 87). Our inability to physically interact with photographs can promote feelings of dread or desperation because we cannot, either immediately or ever, affect those depicted scenarios that have occurred at some point in our reality. This challenge to Western metaphysics highlights photography's capacity to occupy multiple roles simultaneously; the various interpretations that a single image can provoke allows it to transcend the physical world.
"The photographic image transfigures the real because it refuses any simple distinction between nature and culture, subject and object, self and other, presence and absence. A photograph wields an uncanny power because it exists in the threshold between artwork and document (evidence, witness). This power results not from a photograph's ability to objectively describe or represent a scene, action, or result (the logic of cause and effect), but rather from its ability to repeat or double the object (whether an individual or scene) before the camera. In fact, even the phrase 'before the camera' simplifies things because there is no 'before' - as in a temporal sequence or a spatial positioning - rather we are always in the midst of photographs, representations" (Emerling, 88).An interesting comparison between the styles of Walker Evans and Margaret Bourke-White calls into question the potential benefits and drawbacks of incorporating a specific aesthetic into documentary photographs. The work of Bourke-White delivers a meaning that is meant to be accepted by the viewer. By contrast, Evans rejects idealism and instead focuses on a simplicity that prohibits the observer from distinguishing his work as either art or documentary. For one artist there exists one specific interpretation of the work they create, for the other, there is an openness that must be deciphered by the recipient. Although Bourke-White's intention is clear in her photographs, the nature of photography itself inevitably permits the images she produces to be read in different contexts and different time periods, thus inescapably distorting its meaning. Through his photos, Evans isolates the viewer "by an uncertain distance that reintroduces the presence of the lens between the eye and the scene" (Emerling, 94). I interpret the 'lens between the eye and the scene' as the factors that separate each individual from the circumstances in the photo. In other words, the 'reintroduction' of any historical, contextual, economic, political, or social separations enhances the importance of recognizing one's position in relation to the artwork. Since each person will subsequently provide a different point of view as a result of their 'separations,' the world begins to change when seen through the eyes of a photograph.
"Several of the most canonical examples of social documentary photography were made by photographers experiencing another culture. A photograph is understood as the best way to narrate a story or point of view in 'the most condensed and vital form'" (Emerling 85). Do we as privileged people have a responsibility to observe and examine photographs that document suffering, pain, or death? Does the constant consumption of these images through photojournalism, advertising, and art harm or benefit our perceptions of their reality? Does this consumption assist or jeopardize those depicted in the photographs?
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