Barthes' The Photographic Message

In Roland Barthes’ first chapter “The Photographic Message” in Image Music Text, Barthes seeks to move beyond what sociology has primarily been focused on with photographs, the source of emission (producer) and point of reception (consumer), by  directing our attention to the channel of transmission (the text).  He is interested in the connotative messages images have, especially in the press photograph as such an image is accompanied by a title, caption and article (as well as headlines). Barthes quickly identifies that the newspaper, as a source of information, creates two different structures ― linguistic in which the substance is words and visual/image in which the substance is lines, shades, surfaces ― and that we must analyze both separately in order to understand how each structure compliments the other. The visual/image though is not an isolated structure; rather, such a text is accompanied by a title, caption and article.  But, as Barthes suggests, producers, those sources of emissions (i.e. staff of the newspaper: technicians who took the photo, others who choose, compose and treat it, and those who give a caption, title, and commentary), of the photograph often work to be “neutral” and “objective” in copying reality.  A basic level of meaning, “message without a code,” is evoked in the literal reality (although still manipulated by reductions in proportions, perspective, color, etc.). The “neutrality” intention creates sense of naturalness and eternalness, which will connect and be important for the next layer of meanings. As Barthes continues to the other levels of meanings ― “analogical reproductions of reality (drawings, paintings, cinema, theater) and, more importantly, reception of the image, which in turn signifies a certain ‘culture’ of the society receiving the message (17) ― he begins to explore rhetoric, or the rhetorical dimensions of a text.  A connoted system develops and “the code of the connoted system is very likely constituted either by a universal symbolic order or by a period rhetoric, in short by a stock of stereotypes (schemes, colours, graphisms, gestures, expressions, arrangements of elements)” (18). My first question was what rhetoric means for him. Is it simply a compilation of stereotypes?  A few paragraphs later, in arguing that the status of the photograph has more than a denotation, he suggests that the connotation provides a message with “a code (the ‘art’, or the treatment, or the ‘writing’, or the rhetoric, of the photograph).”  In other words, I gather that rhetoric means a code, or the connotation, that deploys messages that are both “’objective’ and ‘invested’, natural and cultural” (20).

These messages are structured by procedures, which are not part of the photographic structure, and Barthes suggests six of them: trick effects, pose, objects, photogenia, aestheticism and syntax.  Barthes is concerned with the first three, as “connotation is produced by a modification of the reality itself” (21).  In a trick effect procedure, the connotation appears without warning, similar to what I thought of as subverting the denotation, because of the particular historical moment.  The trick effect procedure is done by the producer’s intent, and typically works as the beginning step in naturalizing meanings.  The pose procedure is the content’s pose: the photo subject’s body position and parts position.  Barthes provides an example of JFK, in which he has his eyes raised heavenwards, hands clasped in a high-profile shot.  Barthes suggests “youthfulness, spirituality, purity” (22), although he doesn’t interrogate the image much.  I would have liked to see Barthes unpack the image more, but that isn’t particularly his focus for the chapter (but this is the reason why I think he shouldn’t even bring in a specific text if he isn’t going to unpack).  His next procedure directs our attention to objects and Barthes emphasizes that objects possess meaning and not power. This procedure is particularly interesting for me and my indep. study in the fall with Dr. Gries.  While Barthes wants to focus on objects and their meanings, and I concur with him, I also think power cannot be detached from meaning.  Meanings produce power, as well as eradicate power (I know I need to elaborate).

The object procedure also reminded me of a conversation I had with my friend Kyle today about consciousness and writing.  It was an interesting conversation and I won’t delve into all the details, but he did mention something that relates to Barthes’ third procedure (objects) in connation in images: memory.  Kyle mentioned that we have to write memories in order to produce memories and objects provide us with a sense of memory.  I brought up the idea of objects possessing a memory in that we project consciousness onto objects and give them a sense of consciousness.  Kyle fair warned me though that this may be problematic, and I agree, but I want to clarify what I (think I) mean: a subject’s experience with an object, often and almost always, evokes many different ideas, feelings, and narratives.  The time a subject and object are together will provide numerous opportunities to develop a narrative (which can easily be fantasy or real).  It will also give a subject a consciousness (I know I’m throwing the word “consciousness” around without any solid definition, which was also the issue Kyle and I were discussing), as well as the object, although a different kind of, consciousness.  For example, a painting on my living room has particular meanings for me.  My friend Sandy painted it and offered it to me at a particular moment in our lives. At the time of exchange, I had a consciousness and set of meanings (friendship, gratitude, value of listening), which all held shortly after (a couple of months).  When she and I were no longer around each other and the painting, I continued to have these particular ideas. These ideas structure a memory. But did I have the ideas and memory or did the painting have the ideas and memory?  Sure, I could think about Sandy and some of those ideas and the memory arose, but the ideas and meanings were never as potent in my mind as they were when I looked at the painting.  In addition, I think the objects absorbed meanings and develop a memory that was distinct. I’m unsure right now what the object’s memory would be (i.e. would it be synonymous with my memory). As the months passed, (as you might have noticed already by the past tense) the meanings changed for me, as well as (I’m assuming) for the painting. 

Now, let’s say the painting gets damaged, maybe it falls off the wall, the glass breaks and the painting nearly tears in two, and I have to throw it away.  I dispose of it in the dumpster in my parking lot and someone else finds the painting.  They decide to keep it, maybe restore it or whatever, because it evokes certain meanings for this person.  Maybe the image evokes from their memory sadness or joy or tranquility.  Now does the object’s consciousness change?  Does the subject pack the object with new meanings and a new memory? I would say yes because the context changed.  The environment of the exchange with me and Sandy, the traveling from Chicago to Gainesville, and my living room in Florida all packed the painting. The breaking of the glass, the tearing of the painting, and the travel of the painting to the dumpster packed a new set of meanings (no value or reason in keeping or restoring the painting, my lack of effective hanging, etc.). At the same time, the painting’s position in the dumpster has a set of meanings for why it ended up in the dumpster.  But those meanings and memories seem to be lost with interjection of the other person and the painting absorbs new meanings and memories. Of course, if you’ve reached this point in my writing, my whole babble here is nearly meaningless without a definition of consciousness and memory.  Is consciousness defined by memory?  I have always thought of consciousness as the ability to make meanings, as well as a self awareness (which I know is loaded).  Possibly I need to rethink what consciousness is with attention to memory.  And maybe a definition of consciousness is impossible as meanings are constantly fluid and shifting (as definitions for words also do). And of course, I haven’t even discussed how writing connects to this memory and object example, but I would like to explore further some of these ideas.

I’ve also been thinking a lot about visual rhetoric as it relates to multimodal composing, particularly in the classroom. It would be impractical, as far as I know now, to have students compose a visual essay, such as a 10 minute documentary.  I cannot expect students to have the necessary access to a video camera (although they probably have video cameras on their phone) and an editing program.  However, in 1102 last semester, we had students do visual maps, where they had to design a visual representation of their research sources.  The idea was to have students demonstrate the complexity of weaving together sources, as well as aid students in organizing their papers. I thought it was an interesting assignment.  As a way for students to begin thinking visually about their research and their research paper, on one my lectures days, I showed the video on Ken Robinson’s paper on “Changing Education Paradigms” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDZFcDGpL4U).  After the ten minute video, I busted out colored pencils and sheets of paper and asked students, with their five annotations from their annotated bibliography, to represent visually the conversation of their sources, as well as their own position around their topic.  Students seemed to really enjoy the activity and many mentioned it gave them a different way of thinking about their topic and argument. I wonder if we (teachers) had spent some more time in discussing visual rhetoric, specifically production and invention, would students be able to create a much different argument in the end  A nascent idea, but something I wish to explore more in the next couple of weeks.    

Barthes, Roland. Image Music Text. Trans. Stephen Heath. New York: Hill and Wang, 1977. Print.