In
today’s blog, I, Alec Mouradian, world-famous art-critic, will be analyzing the
argument and exploring the social context of a series of photographs submitted
to me by an anonymous photographer.
The author, who chose to remain unnamed, has submitted a
seven-photograph set of photographs entitled The Real Dead Week.
Prior to the delivery of my analysis, however, I find it extremely
important to provide all of the readers with some context and background of the
photography style that the anonymous photographer utilizes.
The
main two styles that will reappear throughout this post are serial photography
and documentary photography.
Serial photography, as one can guess from the name, depicts a series of
different pictures and combines them into one image, often through the use of a
grid, in an attempt to have the viewer compare them. Reasons to utilize such a type of photography can vary from
photographer to photographer.
Some, such as Bernd and Hilla Becher, utilize this style to develop a
“typology,” a systematic catalog, of various objects (Foote 6). Many others, such as Andy Warhol, use
serial photography to highlight subtle differences in even the most similar
images.
Documentary photography, which is
often used hand-in-hand with serial photography, chronicles a series of
events. This approach tells a
story, and consequently develops an argument, by showing images in rapid
succession. It is often most
persuasive when images are compressed into a single grid, where the viewer can
see the entire breakdown in one quick instant.
Gas Tanks by Bernd and Hilla Becher |
The above photograph, done by Bernd
and Hilla Becher, two legendary photographers, is called Gas Tanks. The duo
traveled across Europe and the United States documenting a wide variety of
industrial machines. They dedicated
a large chunk of their careers documenting such objects because they realized that
as time passed such beautiful architecture would inevitably disappear, and so
they found that it became their duty to develop a typology that preserved the
memory of such objects.
Eventually, as their photographs began accumulating, the Bechers noticed
that, even in small categories of buildings, such as gas tanks, individual
buildings had minute differences (Klein).
As a result, “in a Becher grid, there is a sense that the same object is
repeated again and again—and yet each is unique” (Foote 6).
Gas Tanks acts as a comparison of
fifteen different gas tanks, each with the same general structure, but,
simultaneously, possessing minute differences amongst them. The significance of
such a photograph is that if these photographs were viewed individually, an
individual may simply classify them as repetitions of the same exact
image. This format allows viewers
identify even the smallest differences.
Additionally, framing of such photographs is key. The Bechers were very strategic in
their photography, always paying attention to the amount of light, level of the
horizon, and relative size of the object (Gefter 1). This impressive dedication to maintain consistency ultimately
facilitates comparison, as each photograph is set up in the same manner. This idea will be crucial when the
analysis of The Real Dead Week series
commences.
When
thinking of Andy Warhol’s serial photography and art, he is noted for uniquely
utilizing simple, common objects as the main subjects of his pieces, as “he
replaces the divine objects with objects such as soup cans, movie stars, and
toys” (Dyer 36). He makes the
point that art does not have to have a unique, iconic subject to achieve
greatness. Instead, common objects
can often be the most effective subjects.
As for the style, some Warhol pieces will literally repeat the same
image over and over again, while many others document a series of photographs
taken in quick succession of one another (Dyer 37). If one solely looks at the individual images, he or she can
quickly find himself or herself bored.
Instead, the viewer must instead look at the overall picture to get the
true context of the image.
This
Andy Warhol photograph comes right out of his book “Andy Warhol Photo Booth,”
and it serves as one of his very first experiments with photography. In a very similar manner as Bernd and
Hilla Becher, these photographs maintain the same frame throughout all of the
photographs, which facilitate comparison of individual images. For Warhol, the photo booth allowed the
sitter to “adopt a succession of different roles, each captured in a single
frame” (Art History 1). The strips of images that photo booths create actually
produce some of the most genuine forms of serial and documentary
photography.
The Real Dead Week is a brilliant
project that seeks to document and serialize the various activities of students
during the week prior to their final exams at the University of California,
Berkeley. The series utilizes the
styles of the Bechers and Warhol, but it also provides an additional, satirical
twist of its own. This first
piece, entitled Students in Their
“Natural” Habitat, documents and categorizes the activity that every
student should ideally be engaged in studying.
Similar
to the Bechers’ motive to preserve the memory of industrial architecture, this
image captures and preserves for posterity the new student approach to
studying, which relies on the use of technology such as laptops and cell phones
to bolster education. Note that in
every single photograph, the student has a laptop on his desk, and most of the
students are using it as their primary vehicle for studying. The irony, however, is that not every
student used this technology for strictly educational purposes. If one looks close enough at the center
image, they realize that it is split into two halves. The right side presents the “normal” approach to studying
that involves the use of the traditional calculator, book, and note cards; the
laptop on the left side, however, is open to facebook.com, the ultimate
distraction. This piece succeeds in
depicting the development of a new, multi-tasking generation that attempts to
revolutionize the approach to studying, or lack thereof.
The
second picture in this series, entitled Libraries?,
calls into question the importance and effectiveness of libraries. This particular grid is composed of two
types of shots: distance shots that encompass the library community as a whole,
and close-up shots that provide more detail about the actions of specific
groups within the library. This
photograph mimics the works of Andy Warhol, as libraries are somewhat common
subjects, and it calls a profound social institution into question.
For
the distance shots, the windowpane breaks up the image into smaller pieces,
depicting how students flock into smaller, familiar groups, converting these
“study spaces” into mere social gatherings. As one can see, students have their laptops and materials
present, and their initial intent is, of course, to study. As the groups get larger and larger,
however, studying becomes futile.
The
close-up shots reveal just how these social gathering make studying in
libraries futile. The middle-top
photo depicts a student in the foreground, apparently having given up on his
attempts to study, and a group of five students obnoxiously socializing in the
background. Ultimately, this image
questions the true purpose of a common space. As learned from the first image, students already have
enough distractions with their technology; flocking to social hubs would become
even more futile.
Entitled
The Addiction, this set of images
cleverly depicts the journey of a college student over the course of an
evening. The grid beings by
showing a desk, setting the baseline for its utility. As the image progresses, one notices that the more fatigued
the individual becomes, the more caffeinated and sugar beverages accumulate
around the desk. The increasing
number of drinks in the successive images reveals how college students blindly
rely on drinks such as Rockstar, Starbucks frappuccinos, and Gatorade to
ideally become more productive and efficient. This addiction, however, leads to the infamous sugar crash
that college students are all too familiar with. First, he allows himself to get distracted, notably using
his laptop, and soon enough all motivation to study is lost. By the end of the series, the student
has been defeated, with his desk being converted from study space to trashcan,
or possibly even a recycling-bin if he’s feeling particularly
eco-friendly. The viewer begins to
question, “Did those beverages do anything at all?”
This
set of images serves as the perfect combination of the styles of Becher and
Warhol. Each image has the exact
same frame, which encourages the viewer to compare individual images with one
another. Additionally, The Addiction virtually mimics the photo
booth photography that Warhol championed, as each image captures the individual
in a different pose, as it progresses over time. In a sense, it allows the individual to visualize the
breakdown of events in just nine captured moments.
What Do You Know by Anonymous |
Entitled
What Do You Know, this piece
perpetuates the theme associated with how individuals utilize personal desks
and study spaces. This individual
uses his workspace as a fitness center.
Appropriately during dead week, a week where students should ideally be
reviewing what they know, this individual’s shirt reads, “What do you
know.” As it is obvious that the
individual has no motivation to study, he gets rid of the shirt on his back,
affirming that academically, he does not know much. At the conclusion of his workout, he is sitting at his desk
in front of his laptop, the perfect opportunity to begin his studies. Instead, however, he prioritizes
sleep. This image represents those
students during dead week who have no motivation to being their studies, and
instead who utilize their free time to advance their non-academic pursuits.
For
many Warhol pieces, the series is “indefinitely repeatable, for they have no
beginning or end” (Dryer 37). Basically, it was up to Andy Warhol’s discretion
to artificially create a starting and ending point. In a similar manner as that, What Do You Know has the exact same picture in the beginning and in
the end, insinuating that this individual’s journey will continue to repeat
itself. Many students, such as
this one, find themselves stuck in a never-ending loop of procrastination.
What a Better Time For Spring Cleaning? by Anonymous |
When
an individual knows that he has a difficult, and often boring, task ahead of
him, he automatically becomes more willing to do anything but that task. What a Better Time For Spring Cleaning? depicts
that exact situation. With such a
messy desk, it becomes apparent that this individual does not care too much for
cleanliness. After briefly working
at his desk, however, he abandons his study plans and chooses to clean his
desk, a decision that he should have made long, long ago, judging from the
amount of clutter. At this point,
he is desperately trying to do anything but study. Once he succeeds in this endeavor, however, he continues to
avoid his work by taking a nap.
The photograph brilliantly exaggerates the sleeping position in an
attempt to depict just how little some individuals use their desks for actual
work. This desk has transformed
into a comfortable bed.
League of Legends by Anonymous |
This
piece is entitled League of Legends
presents an apparently never-ending repetition of the exact same image of a
student sitting at his desk playing video games. Very similar to some of Andy Warhol’s most famous pieces,
the repetition’s purpose is to highlight just how much of an individual’s time
video games can take up. Often
enough, when individuals are given the opportunity spend their week however
they want, they will pursue hobbies instead of work.
Very
similar to The Addiction, this
individual has also begun to develop a miniature collection of sugary drinks on
his desk, which very likely are assisting him with his other pursuits. This piece in particular makes the
viewer wonder, “Is he really spending his time wisely?” That question cannot be answered.
Welcome to the Eagle's Nest by Anonymous |
Of
course, in any conversation about the University of California, Berkeley, it
would not be a complete documentary of how students spend their Dead Week
without photography about the use of marijuana. The anonymous photographer who submitted these photographs
entitled this typology Welcome to the
Eagle’s Nest because the group of individuals who agreed to be photographed
congregated daily at “the Eagle’s
Nest,” in an attempt to relax and avoid their studies.
“Getting
high” is culturally prevalent throughout many college campuses, but Berkeley is
amongst the leaders in its daily use.
It is important to document these acts because its one of the few traits
that makes Berkeley’s Dead Week particularly unique. Serial and documentary photography often play the role in
eternalizing traditions, and this is a necessary addition to deliver the
complete story.
The overall message that stems from
The Real Dead Week is that there is a
massive misperception that all students devote their entire Dead Week for
academic purposes. In fact, Dead
Week may be the least academically productive week of the semester. Students may get more sleep, more
social time, more workout time, and many other activities, but they often avoid
the most tedious, and most important, act of them all: studying. By mimicking the styles of Warhol and
Bernd and Hilla Becher, this anonymous artist succeeds in creating a mixture of
a bland, straightforward typology and a intriguing, powerful documentary that
strives to inform viewers about the real lives of individuals. Bravo!
Stay
tuned for my next installment on the analysis of animal photography and how it
parallels with human society!
Here’s a sample below.
Bibliography
“Andy
Warhol: Photo Booth Self-Portrait (1996.63.a,b)”. In Heilbrunn Timelines
of Art History.” New York: The
Metropolitan Museum of Art, 200--.
http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/work-ofart/1Andy Warhol
"Contacts
Vol. 3, Portraits of Contemporary Photographers." Interview by William
Klein. Youtube.com.
N.p., 6 June 2008. Web. 10 May 2013.
Dryer,
Jennifer. The Metaphysics of the Mundane:
Understanding Andy Warhol's Serial Imagery. N.p.: n.p., n.d. JSTOR.
Web.
Foote,
Nancy. "The Anti-Photographers." n.d.: n. pag. Web.
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