Monday, 21 January 2013

On Location 1: The Beach

I've recently been interested by the idea of the performance intervention, or how an intervention leaves very little trace after it happens. The intervention is a gesture that has an accidental audience at the time of capture and is usually documented as a still image after the fact. The viewers of the still image are a more considered audience and the intervention is re-enacted when the image is viewed as an encounter between the photograph and the viewer.

Taking advantage of Falmouth's varied scenery (rural, beach etc), I decided to start investigating this sense of intervention, by using elements of the absurd to intrude on the landscape. For my first investigation, I decided to go to the beach on one of the coldest days in January and have an impromptu beach party. The actions were simple – for instance trying to pour a glass of wine or blowing a party blower in front of the camera. Of course, I also dressed in a party hat, frilly shirt and bow tie.

There were two elements to this: firstly, it was the confidence to actually dress up and just 'do' something. Secondly, it was how well I could take these images by myself on location. I decided to use natural light and set the camera to a low ISO setting (200) to try and retain as much natural light as possible. I did plan more actions, such as popping party poppers, but it was so windy, it made it near impossible.


Beach Party Blower
What I love about these images is there are evidently other people on the beach, but they largely try and ignore what is happening. In fact, the 'accidental audience' met the actions with confusion and gave me a wide berth. Their dogs, however, were much more curious. I had many dogs running up to me and barking at me while their owners were very embarrassed and tried to shoo them away from me. This was especially difficult if I would set the timer on the camera, run for a pose and then have a dog running after me. I think people were also very suspicious of me. Some of them watched me to make sure I wasn't doing anything harmful or damaging – I was actually surprised at the level of concern at what appeared to me to be a completely ridiculous action.

Funnily enough, there were also other photographers on the beach who were trying to capture the waves and scenic landscape. I  found it interesting that they made a decision that was contrary to mine: they purposely chose not to have me in their frame because I was ruining their image of a picturesque beach in January. So in this way, there was an interesting photographic dichotomy going on that day. There was me who was deliberately trying to find the ridiculous, the unusual or the abnormal – in fact I was creating it, causing it. And on the other hand, the other photographers had made a decision to cut out this happening. I won't go so far as to say they weren't looking for the extraordinary – scenery in itself, or simply photographing the grey clouds could be considered just that – but they actively chose to move somewhere else on the beach to preserve its illusion of tranquility.

So a question arises here about which of the photographs is more deceitful: mine for constructing a happening to be documented, or theirs for making a choice not to document something that was happening as simultaneously as the beautiful clouds and rolling waves?

Out To Sea
After a while, the fact that I was dressed in a party hat and sunglasses seemed to fade slightly. However, the focus on constructing the image becomes more intense. Because there is an 'end purpose', the achievement of this purpose becomes primary and the performance becomes focused towards that end. Does it matter that the performance is solely for the camera? If the real focus of the performance is to happen when the image is constructed and printed, then no it doesn't. The process of taking images becomes a rehearsal – you take them over and over until you get it right and then instantly the 'right' image becomes the one you present to your audience.

The weather was a constricting factor throughout the shoot. At one point I tried to go into the sea without my shoes on, but my feet went numb, and running backwards and forwards to the camera became a hassle. Also, I was going to do some shots in just trunks, but it didn't happen because the tripod kept blowing over and there was a limited time I could spend that undressed.

I Wished You Were There (But You Weren't)
What has struck me about some of the images, like the first one on this blog and the one pictured above, is that there is a sense of absence. The gaze in 'I Wished You Were There' says "I am having a great time, but only because you can see me now." Which leads to the question, was I actually having a good time when I was on the beach in the first place, or do I just want the viewer to think that? It very much reminds me of Baudrillard's comparison of the hyper-real to the holiday snapshot. When we look back at it, we convince ourselves we were having a good time in the photo because we smile, gesture or pose in such a way. However, it could have just been another boring and ordinary day.

Nonetheless, this puts some kind of emphasis on absence in the still image not of the performer, but actually of the viewer. The expectancy of the figure in the photograph is that he is eventually viewed, that he comes to life once more. I titled this particular photo 'I Wished You Were There (But You Weren't)' partially because I wanted to encapsulate a sense of fun that the audience wants to share, but also slightly to convey a sense of disappointment on behalf of the person in the photograph that he was essentially celebrating alone.

For the first intervention, I think it was a good experiment. It challenged how gutsy I could be and also a lot can be achieved by acting on artistic impulse, in terms of realising in whatever way an idea that's bouncing around in your head. I learned a bit more about where and how my practice could go and would probably return to this set up with a better camera and tripod, with perhaps slightly more stable weather.

I wondered if the gesture of the action in itself was strong enough to attract much of an accidental audience, but it certainly made me contextualise where the still image sat in relation to an action that you were doing right now.

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