“Photography transformed image making. At its birth it witnessed, and recorded, its own demise.”[1]
It would appear that there is a growing return to the methods and techniques of antiquarian photography, arts and crafts and a growing appeal of the mechanical and handmade over the digital and mass produced coupled with a heighted awareness by the general public of the need to curtail the waste resultant of our throw away society. This is evident by resurgence in the popularity of “the transparent honesty of the handcrafted object”[2] : from handmade ceramics, hand sewn pieces, scrap booking, knitting nights, and the cult of low-tech film based photography.
There has been a multitude of commentaries that discuss this trend towards neo-Victorianism including current exhibitions that explore the ghosts of the Victorian era[3], contemporary artists creating works that reference the technological innovations of the 19th century, whilst a multitude of websites, blogs and popular media articles attest to “our ongoing critical fascination with ‘Victoriana’”[4] watered down as Steam Punk and neo-Victorian culture. Moore suggests that this larger zeitgeist may be a reaction against our post modern habit of constantly rewriting history, a postcolonial acknowledgment of non-Western cultures, and a nostalgic call for a return to Victorian values and morals (by some sectors of society) as a backlash against the current state of affairs. [5]
It is through the brass goggles of steam punk[6] that Campbell explores aspects of this phenomenon that relate to photography: its traditions, techniques and uses throughout its history, drawing similarities to the new era of photography we are witnessing now. The advent of digital imaging technologies available to all, the variety of purposes to which digital imaging devices are being utilized for the betterment of scientific research, and the creative discoveries and alternative uses photographers are finding for this equipment. The story of this new era of imaging, thus far, runs parallel to the early beginnings of photography. In particular the scanner has now become a device for image capture in its own right removing the camera from its own story, and is utilized by a number of photographic artists to create images that are reminiscent either visually or thematically to early examples of photography. Concurrent to the emergence of the Steam Punk movement this could be viewed as a rejection of digital technologies, in this context, a metaphor for all things modern and disposable about our era, and a reminder of a more considered approach to our surroundings.
Campbell uses the ideas and aesthetics of the steam punk genre as a gateway into a pseudo – scientific exploration of both her image capturing techniques, (the flatbed scanner and low – fi plastic lens cameras) and her current research interests: the death (?) of film based photography and the resulting lure and nostalgic appeal of the antique image.
The works in this collection all stem from the same ideological DNA, an apt description that itself could have stemmed from the same mad scientist laboratory that these works seem to have been found in. One could imagine future archeologists digging up the floorboards to find this motley assortment of artifacts from an indeterminate past. The recurring theme of these works is their anachronism, their “out of time” aura and the visual references to scientific studies of the strange and unusual.
I use the word collection purposefully in relation to this exhibition as the works, en masse, appear like a vintage Wunderkammer. The mix of timber cases, works in Petri dishes, and framed images that appear like film stills from a filmed detonation, stand amongst large scale images of Geissler tubes that enlarged beyond human size take on the appearance of decorative columns reminiscent of the antiquities one would once have found in a wealthy gentleman’s collection of antiquities, pillaged from some Roman ruin.
Campbell’s work has always been concerned with the strange and unusual and unraveling the mysteries of the universe via a pseudo scientific approach: visually collecting objects via their photographic likeness, and dealing with the dark both literally and metaphorically.
As suggested above, Campbell indeed states that one of her “key intentions was to explore, acknowledge and reference the very beginnings of photography itself which… appear not dissimilar to the new beginnings of photography we are witnessing now with the advent of digital imaging technologies available to all, the variety of purposes to which digital imaging devices can be utilized for the betterment of scientific research, and the minor discoveries and new uses photographers are finding for this equipment. The story of this new era of imaging, thus far, runs parallel to the early beginnings of photography. In particular the scanner has now become a device for image capture in its own right removing the camera from its own story, and utilized by a number of photographic artists to create images that are not dissimilar either visually or thematically to early examples of photography. The use of a scanner is reminiscent of the early uses of photography itself. The possibility of the scanner providing a glimpse into a time or space not normally visible is not dissimilar to the notion that the camera provided a way to see into the spirit world, identify criminality or provide evidence of natural phenomena previously invisible to naked eye.” [7]
The work of contemporary artists such as Ben Cauchi, Christa Kreeger Bowden, Ori Gersht and many others suggests a return to an open acknowledgment of (art) history, antiquarian photography and a non-technological way of life. For Campbell it is summed up by the nostalgic steam punk view of history that “…hearkens back to a time when everything is brand new [and] the idea that anything is possible.”[8] Certainly the images that resonate loudest are ones that appear on the cusp of divulging secrets, transforming both literal and metaphorical darkness into knowledge, and again the recurring theme that photography brought with it the hope that it could document unwitnessed – or unseen – occurrences.
The works here are hybrids of the digital age, created using both traditional film based methods and avant garde digital techniques. Unknown Quantities & Scientific Challenges comprises a set of film based images (albeit presented as digitally printed enlargements) that appear like failed records of a science experiment with accidental double exposures, dust and scratch marks printed from damaged negatives. For the viewer these idiosyncrasies are supposed to act as clues as to how to place the works. The multiple exposures are vital to help convey the various levels of meaning attached to the works. The light leaks and vignetting, characteristic of the Holga’s plastic lens, help to create an air of antiquity within the works while the dust marks and scratches add to the aged look as if the works presented here are the result of discovery. One imagines these images as part of an archive found long forgotten under the floorboards of an abandoned factory, or in the dusty library of a research facility.
The archive has long been used as device for positioning ‘a thing’ into correct historical context with artists hijacking the notion of the archive as “…one of the most popular metaphors for all kinds of memory…[and] its capacity as an objective site of primary knowledge sources and thereby unbiased memory.”[9] Indeed the combination of photographic document and its presentation as part of a larger archive lends weight to the notion of these images depicting real events. Of particular note here is the fact that no event is presented. Unknown Quantities & Scientific Challenges alludes only to events that may have already occurred, the aftermath of an event or perhaps a thwarted attempt while other works in this collection glow and seem to burst with possibilities of an event about to occur.
Campbell takes the essence of steam punk fantasy blended with a nostalgic film noir aesthetic to create new images using the visual codes we already associate with each type of imagery on its own such as the “authority of the scientific illustration, the inscribed ideals of the scientific illustration, the sentimentality or ‘family values’ of the vernacular found photograph”[10]. The works are designed to bring to mind the mysteries of science, the strange artifacts of scientific discovery, by referencing the visual look of 19th century photography which itself was used as a tool of science. These images are a manifestation of the ideas we have in our minds of what the mad scientist’s lair should look like. The suggestion that they could be part of a collection or an archive helps to create the notion of an alternate history – a vital element of the steam punk genre – “prophesising about what might happen if technology continued in the curious direction it had taken.”[11]
The glossy surface of images such as The Time Machine suite, add a pop culture sheen to the works and bring to mind the shiny clean brass pipes and gears of a Wellsian era invention. These works appear slightly more evidential than fantasy illustrations having the tinge of a straight photographic document about them. Volt Meter #1 and Volt Meter #2 seem to have been created as a record of a larger device. These must be all that is left of a collection of detail photographs. Grunge Meter contains a greater sense of action as if documenting the moments just before the event horizon.
The work also subliminally explores the recurring notion that perhaps the camera can help us to see more than what our eyes can see and that an exposed film will present to us what is really there in the dark. Defined by Walter Benjamin as “…optical unconsciousness; visual occurrences that are too quick for the mind to process and that can only be perceived with the aid of technological devices.”[12]
It is this sense that one gets when using a scanner (or photocopier), the way Campbell does, that it is almost a gateway into another dimension – “the unknown [becoming] visible.”[13] Campbell utilises the flatbed scanners shallow depth of field and sweeping ray of light to create images that appear to emerge from the mysterious dark. This exhibition highlights recent works that step beyond the ordinary use of a flatbed scanner to explore alternate modes of image capture, visual presentation and modes of story telling. The works incorporate other mediums to create a narrative of sorts. One can imagine the works as random pieces of a greater whole.
Geissler #1, #2 & #3 are direct scans of antique decorative fluorescent tubes known as Geissler tubes. Used in science departments to demonstrate various colours of neon light via glowing electrons, these are purely decorative images. They reflect the morphing together of art and science – for no other reason than to add to their beauty. Geissler tubes were created out of blown glass in a variety of ornate and intricate patterns designed to add to the optical effect when exposed to an electrical current. Similarly, the images here have been enlarged to many times larger than life and rendered monochrome to enable the viewer to contemplate the formal qualities of the strange, totemic objects. The scanner enables an almost microscopic close up view of these magical objects via the scanners ability to render any notions of scale and depth of field as meaningless.
The possibilities of the scanner were broadened initially by the engineering skills of Michael Golembewski[14] whose images created with an ordinary flatbed scanner first initially proposed genuinely alternate uses for scanner technology in the visual arts. Golembewski utilised the scanner as a ‘film back’ with additional lenses and modifications enabling the scanner to record objects at a variety of focal lengths.
Initially more interesting for the technical possibilities presented than the visual content, the images were remarkable because of their method of construction. The utilising of modified flatbed scanner technologies alongside antique view cameras and makeshift constructions inspired Campbell’s own creative practice to head towards a greater emphasis on science and discovery coupled with a fascination regarding the look of images captured with this “new” device. Resembling images from the very beginnings of photography, the images were unclear, black and white, and unremarkable except for clearly indicating a new direction in image capturing possibilities.
It is via this technological by-product that Campbell seeks to explore the mysteries of science and at a conceptual level, the sense that this digital turning point in photographic history will be regarded as monumental in years to come, viewed with the same reverence as that kept for the discovery of photographic processes initially.
It seems that a number of photographic artists instinctively liken these new technologies to the discoveries made in the field of photography at its inception. This renewed interest in the handmade, antiquity, the Do It Yourself movement, and environmental concerns, is also steering the zeitgeist toward questioning how we can conserve and restore what we already have rather than contribute to further excessive consumption.
“Today the history of photography is no longer perceived as a linear development of chronology and genre…”[15] but a smorgas board of visual signals. In keeping with steam punk ideals, the work presented here explores and highlights new (or rather old!) approaches and attitudes to reusing, recycling, and reducing our dependence on limited resources by finding new uses for existing equipment and exploring ideas about what should be kept for posterity – what will be important or valuable in the future.
The scanning process involves working in the dark for maximum effect, waiting for the light to travel across the scanning bed. It has immediate similarities to traditional darkroom techniques: working in the dark, waiting for light to do its thing, waiting to see if the image has worked out.
One could ask why use a scanner for this kind of imagery when digital cameras with greater capabilities could do an arguably better job? Artist Chantal Faust suggests that it is the “clarity and tactility”[16] of the imaged object from a flatbed scanner. It is because of the distortions, extremely short depth of field, and the “hyper real surface tension”[17] that plastic, artificial, objects are almost rendered real, or more lifelike, under the glow of the scanner’s fluorescent tube. Campbell’s image take this further and explores the scanners minimal depth of field, ability to seemingly catch time and exploits the unique warping effects.
Lab Light #1, created using the scanners time catching effects, seems to have recorded an experiment at the point of reaction. The light bulb which appears to have swung across and hit the top of the other bulb is in fact the same object. These works are close to time travel[18] depicting the past, present and future of the one object within the one moment of image capture. The scanner seems to capture the precise moments and the movements in between while the eternal black of the background is weighty with possibilities. An even greater sense of anxiety is presented when lights, like time warps or wormholes, appear to rip through this blanket of darkness and appear like new universes mid creation. The Tree Gates of Time appears like an image from the Hubble space telescope. Depicting nothing but the possibility of multiple universes, The Three Gates of Time gets its title from Albert Einstein’s discoveries of the Big Bang, Black Holes and the Big Crunch[19] – three extreme events in the theory of relativity. The work is comprised of three individual ‘scanographs’ placed together in an abstract triptych. Shards of light, like tears in the fabric of time, appear to be captured at the moment of creation. The scanner’s strange capture method has enabled a true image to be taken – real data has been collected and transformed into this photograph which depicts both real events (the scanner really did capture light) and seems to transcend the real and reveal secrets only visible through the lens (no pun intended but very apt! ) of science.
Campbell’s works sit on the divide between fact and fantasy when it comes to referencing and depicting science. The images all converge to imply the possibility that time travel might really be possible, presenting the evidence of time travel expeditions. These works are like artifacts from time travelling adventures. The Petri Dish works are imagined ‘fossils’ from the future, the last remnants of nature, preserved in a museum like display. These works brought back from the future by a traveler from our past, serve as a warning for us. Bringing to mind notions of a ruined environment, or a post apocalyptic world, each real glass Petri Dish contains a photographic reproduction (created by scanner) of a common leaf encased in resin, the last semblance of nature, captured at the eleventh hour. The works are presented on an illuminated bench created in stylized fashion from timber, and glass, complete with antique brass fittings and turned legs completing the installation.
The presentation of these works is vital to their message – the Petri Dish works raise questions about the use of photography as a document, provider of evidence and as a record of times past. Is a photograph, in this case the facsimile specimens presented under glass, equal to or better than the real object? Is a photograph as an object as important as an artifact? It is with these thoughts in mind that one turns to a similar series of images entitled Grandfather Paradox.
These works stand like special plaques marking the photograph as object paradigm, – serving to acknowledge the notion of the photograph as a valuable object worth protecting and collecting in its own right while the content of the photograph, the subject matter, is also just as valuable. The flatbed scanner has now become a device for image capture in its own right removing the camera from its own story. These works place each camera in the spotlight as the subject for our consideration: at once both historical artefact no longer useful, but also the optical grandfather to the digital devices that replace it. These images seem like impossibility – the likeness of each camera captured by something other than a camera.
These works do not depict past events as such or seek to replicate scenes from a bygone era but they do use the “evidential force”, as Barthes put it, of the photographic document and its visual similarities to an important museum document, to add narrative weight to their physical presence. The images encased in their individual display cases appear like valuable specimens pinned down and covered with glass and conjure up impressions of the past. The idea of collection of strange artifacts[20] so popular in the Victorian era is invoked here, making connections with the hint of time travel and mad science implicit in other works in this exhibition. Indeed the works from the Grandfather Paradox suite are named after a fundamental theory of time travel philosophy bringing this collection of works full circle. Combining the analogue and the digital, the philosophical and the technical these images summarize the quandary of current photographic practice.
Digital capturing methods are well and truly the norm. Polaroid has packed up its instant film manufacturing process and Ilford has severely cut back its production of B&W chemicals and papers to concentrate on digital imaging stock. Traditional darkroom techniques are a dying art and we all know it but there is not much we can do about it – we also know that darkrooms are bad for the environment, bad for us and for some even bad for the budget compared to the convenience of digital photography which keeps costs low, is better for the environment and appears (thus far) to have no long-term adverse health effects.
Death of film based photography is just one in a long list of reasons why people are reminiscing over the past – photography is the ultimate memory keeper and collective cultural encyclopedia; when in doubt people ‘go to the tape’, footage is reviewed, TV show countdowns of pop culture footage is entertainment, and our lifetimes are recorded in a myriad of books chronicling historical events since the invention of photography, family snapshot albums have recorded personal events and photography has become like an extra storage facility for our memories.
This recent trend towards the handmade, one off, reused, recycled, or vintage / antique is a reflection of a general growing awareness that this is crunch time: we must change our environmental ways, we cannot keep this excessive over consumption of goods, food, water, oil etc and we need our time back. The holding sacred of our antique items, our photographic proof of what once was, our fascination with the handmade in an age where machines can build other machines, is an acknowledgment that the time has come to shift back and get real about our future. Somehow holding on to what Sarah Hines describes as a “post modern obsession with the simulacra of the past”[21] seems to be how we cope with this at the moment.
[1] Haley, Stephen. 2008. Double exposure. Photofile, no. 84 – Distortions: p38.
[2] Gray, Simone Cortez. 2008. The new design style of steampunk
[3] Neo-Goth: Back in Black at University of Queensland, 2008, New Victorians at University of Sydney Art Gallery, 2008, and The Enchanted Forest: New Gothic Storytellers touring from Geelong Art Gallery, 2008.
[4] Moore, Grace. 2008. Twentieth-century re-workings of the victorian novel. Literature Compass 5, no. 1: 134-144.
[5] Life in Victorian Times: Expectations of Young Man. Rodgers, Robert. 2008. Life in victorian times: Expectations of young man. Gatehouse Gazette July, no. 1: 20-21.
[6] Steam Punk exists out of time: an anachronistic attitude toward science and technology often places current technological innovations a century, or two, earlier in an age where anything seemed like it could actually be invented on the cusp between an old world where superstitions, old wives tales and legends still seemed plausible, and a new world dynamic, with its myth crushing scientific revelations, explorations of the human mind, evolutionary processes, electricity and the possibilities of steam powered engines. Called steam punk in reference to steam power – the cutting edge of technological advancement in the Victorian era, – members of the steam punk subculture range from those who simply like to dress in Victorian fashions, appreciating the aesthetics of the era to those who imagine themselves as time travelling modern day mad scientists, tinkerers and do-it-yourselves from a time when things were made to last or could be repaired.
“The word Steam punk refers to a particular genre, aesthetic and even a reality that “might have been”. For some people, it’s an evolved fantasy/ reality that might have been had internal combustion engines never taken hold or even been invented. Steam punk for me is a reality that “aims to be rather than to seem”. Indeed, it’s an aesthetic that is heavily versed in a climate of invention and innovation. The construction and methods of operation, the kinetics of the piece are exposed and on the surface, as opposed to boxed in and hidden behind a false casing. The wonderful thing about a steam engine is that you can follow the path of power generation and function beginning with the fire box and boiler, follow the plumbing, valves, gauges, gears, d-valves, pistons, eccentric shafts, and fly-wheels all the way from the source of power to the final outcome of kinetic potential. Within this architectural aesthetic, there are no false walls, drop ceilings, prefab decorative elements or the mundane presence of modern conveniences. Theatre is wonderful, but theatre is false in its constructions. There is nothing false or “out of the box” when talking about the Steam punk aesthetic. You’ll find that there is an incredible complement between a variety of disparate materials that can usually be found in any Steam punk conceived of device… wood, brass, rivets, gears, lenses, cast iron, etc… Steam punk is an honour to an era when people thought big, and worked hard to make things that last. It is not like the disposable culture of commodity that we have today. Care, artisanship and craftsmanship was put into everything that was created.” - Sean Orlando, kineticsteamworks.org
[7] Campbell, Georgina. 2008. Preliminary studio project #2: Monash University.
[8] Unknown. 2008. Blog comments on steam punk. Accessed 16 March 2008.
[9] Hines, Sara. 2007. Post modernism and the archive: Uncertain identities and “Forgotten” Legacies. Afterimage 35, no. Nov/Dec: p20.
[10] Flynt, Robert. 2001. Robert flynt – artist statement. Accessed 25/02/08. Available from www.robertflynt.com/statement.html.
[11] Steel, Sharon. 2008. Steam dream. The Pheonix, 5/16/2008.
[12] Gersht, Ori. 2008. Staff profile. Accessed 16/5/08 2008. Available from http://www.ucreative.ac.uk.
[13] Bogarte, J. Karl. 2002. The secret art of photomorphosis.
[14] Golembewski, Michael. 2006. The scanner photography project. Accessed 25/5/08. Available from http://golembewski.awardspace.com/index.html.
[15] Edwards, Kathleen A. 2005. Acting out: Invented melodrama in contemporary photography. Iowa City: University of Iowa Museum of Art.
[16] Faust, Chantal. 2003. Thummee – abstract. Australian Council of University Art and Design Schools (ACUADS),. Accessed 2008. Available from http://www.acuads.com.au/conf2003/papers_unrefereed/faust.pdf.
[17] ________. 2003. Thummee – abstract. Australian Council of University Art and Design Schools (ACUADS),. Accessed 2008. Available from http://www.acuads.com.au/conf2003/papers_unrefereed/faust.pdf.
[18] Geoffrey Batchen suggests that photography is the closest thing we have to time travel – “shuttling us back and forth between past and present, slowing down our perceptions and drawing them out, or speeding us towards an ideal future, these photographs artefacts are like time machines. (p97, Forget Me Not, 2004)
[19] Henschke, Chris. 2005. Hypercollider. Symmetry Volume 02, no. Issue 04: pp.24-27.
[20] “…three types of item were indispensable in forming a “Kunstkammer” or art collection: firstly sculptures and paintings; secondly “curious items from home or abroad”; and thirdly “antlers, horns, claws, feathers and other things belonging to strange and curious animals” – Wikipedia accessed 2/10/08
[21] Hines, Sara. 2007. Post modernism and the archive: Uncertain identities and “Forgotten” Legacies. Afterimage 35, no. Nov/Dec: p20.
