Existing Light

photography and marginalized communities

June 24, 2009 · 7 Comments

Is it possible to exploit a marginalized group with your art if you are a member of said marginalized group? This is a question I keep grappling with.

When images of people from marginalized groups (people who are considered “exotic” or “strange” by outsiders) are made by those in positions of power and privilege, these images often reduce these people to their labels or their conditions, make them into specimens to be oogled. Depending on what a viewer knows about a photographer and depending on the way an image is made, photographs of the poor or homeless, disabled, queer, sex workers, drug and alcohol users, carnival acts, indigenous peoples, etc. can read as exploitative. So what happens when you find out that an image you think is f*#$ed up is made by a member of that marginalized group?

Let’s get specific here. I’m particularly sensitive to images made of transpeople. I find that many portraits of gender-transgressive individuals exploit the viewer’s fascination/revulsion/sympathy/pity and as a result make reductive portraits of people whose lives are far more complicated than the labels they use or the surgeries they’ve had or the seeming incongruencies in their appearances. This isn’t to say that it’s impossible to make a series of images of trans/queer people— I think there are some artists who have done a really interesting job. I also think there are artists whose work does nothing exciting visually or intellectually, whose work doesn’t challenge me to rework my notions of anything (other than maybe addressing some Tranny 101 sex/gender distinctions that have been done to death and are boring and borderline cliche at this point). But since trans-themed anything right now is hot (just ask Oprah) the artist who photographs transpeople will surely garner attention— maybe the artist’s motivations aren’t so calculated but I’m bored to death of the same old trans portraits with nothing new to say other than to point to a subject’s trans status. That’s f—ing offensive to me.

But back to my original question, is it possible to exploit one’s own group, even unintentionally? I don’t think that trans photographers looking to make sense of their own lives and their community are seeking to exploit their own, but I do wonder if some aren’t a little too comfortable with being made into a two-dimensional spectacle if it greatly benefits their career.  I’m sure it’s a fine line that’s difficult to navigate.  For starters, how would one know if someone is saying they love your edgy/fascinating work because they really get it or because they’re titillated by seeing the bodies and people you photograph, and are excited by the prospect of presenting a trans-themed exhibition for the “street cred” it would afford them?  At what point are you called to look after your community over your career if your work is being framed/presented in ways that you did not intend?  But on the flip side, what amount of educating is one expected to do, should one have to do, to avoid being treated like an exotic commodity?  And should one refuse benefits ascribed to being a part of a group that in other situations would not only cause the denial of said benefits but might actually bring about harm?

I have far more questions than answers.  And maybe if I fear that fascination with content is winning out over perspective and message and a unique voice, it’s not really about the individual photographers at all.  It’s about the art world and the way that (some) commercial art venues function, the ways that many people approach viewing art, what they expect from art and exhibitions, and ultimately about the dominant culture at large and its views of transpeople, and then how the art world responds to the views of the dominant culture (the prevalence of the shocking and rare/different in contemporary art).   I don’t know where I’m going with this.  But how does one fight back when they feel a little used, and at what point is visability for the invisible a bad thing?  More questions, more questions.

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7 responses so far ↓

  • John Rohrer // June 25, 2009 at 11:00 am | Reply

    I agree with what your saying but, the main question to ask is the exploitation directly correlate to the work’s lack of a unique photographic voice or message. If content lacks a new perspective should this body of work be taken seriously in the first place? If so, is it possible that by portraying a previously colonized subject matter and not providing anything new to this subject matter, can the action of display in itself be a new commentary on the exhibition and the manner in which the subject is made into a spectacle? Or is it possible that it’s lack of message denies the work of a valid commentary? Either way what I do know is that this commentary needs to be self evident, in either the work itself or the way it is exhibited.
    Is this line of questioning upheld by the same isolated communities that reinforce the same barriers between photographer and subject matter? The marginalization of communities does create a barrier that dislocates the photographer from the subject. But, is it possible to breakdown the barrier between insular communities in order to generate work that is not exploitation? For me I believe there is a way but, in order for a photographer to be truly successful they cannot let their community distort and insulated their preconceived notions of the community being documented. Also, even if the photographer adds a new perspective of this community, once this perspective is accepted, will it form a new paradigm that needs to be rethought and broken down? Does this method of abstract thought, built by our marginalized community censure the work of photographers and artist. Does the programmed obsolescence generated by instant critique counterproductive to the growth of any photographer or artist. immediate nostalgia? How does the world of instant nostalgia affect the artist’s perspective of the culture attempted to be documented? Even if these questions cannot be answered act of questioning creates a dialogue. This dialogue allows for the barriers between marginalized communities to be questioned. Which in turn allows for photographers and artists to continue to grow. Dialogue and analysis is productive in the photographic community.

  • calebcole // June 25, 2009 at 2:40 pm | Reply

    I’m not sure I understand all that you’re saying, but I think you bring up a good point— what does exploitation have to do with lack of perspective? Here’s how I see them as relating, though by no means do I think this is *always* true, nor do I believe that all bad work about marginalized communities will lead to exploitation/all exploitation of marginalized communities means the work must lack a voice. I think the process I see is: photographer from X community decides to photograph said community, because they have access and because they want to make work about who they are. For whatever reason, the work isn’t very good. Sometimes it appears as though the photographer thought that the subjects alone would make the work interesting. That’s probably not true, but the bad work is certainly rewarded for having “exotic” or “edgy” subject matter. And the people in X community are used to being looked at, to being scrutinized, their bodies expected to be open to discussion/debate and available to those in power. So if the photographer is basically feeding into that, even unintentionally, how should I feel about that? And should those feelings be different if the photographer is a part of X group or if they are an outsider? What are the obligations, if any, of a photographer working with historically marginalized groups?

    • John Rohrer // June 25, 2009 at 4:29 pm | Reply

      Calebcole, let me explain the first part of my comment. There is popular belief that mostly everything has been done in the photo and art world. If everything has been done or if this particular subject matter has been done before. Is it possible to add a perspective that has yet to be taken. You explain the process of exploitation quiet clearly but my point is that someone can do work that is not exploitative and still repeats a message that has been said from a previous photographer or artist.
      Second, a photographer certainly has an obligation with a historically marginalized group.
      Photography that shows intent by definition shows a perspective. The work must be strong in the sense that it communicates to the viewer a particular message or point. A body of work can be unintentional exploitative the photographer does not realize that the way that they are demonstrating the marginalized group is in fact either making a spectacle of or demonizing the group photographed. But if the work is successful in carrying out a specific message then the exploitation is either intentional or falsely analyzed. It is the job of the photographer to set particular rules and boundaries to a specific project that keeps the project from demonstrating an intent that is meant to harm the group or uphold the existing places of power. In fact, if the photographer chooses to do a project about a marginalized group, I would argue that person should be making work that deconstructs the preconceived notions that reinforces the exoticism of the marginalized group. The photographer should be acting with an intent to break down places of power that exist between what is considered the norm and what is considered the marginalized group. What can photographer do further argue of equality? What can a photographer do to deconstruct existing stereotypes? What can photographer do to make work that is beneficial to the marginalized community?

  • calebcole // June 25, 2009 at 11:02 pm | Reply

    I understand now. I’m not sure I’m particularly concerned with work being “fresh” or “new” in relation to photographing marginalized groups, so if I implied that I definitely made a poor choice of words in my first post. I do think what you have to say about work that shows intent is really interesting— the work I was trying to talk about is work where the intent is entirely unclear, leading some viewers to question the artist’s perspective. I think that work with the kind of intent you’re talking about usually has a powerful affect on the viewer and doesn’t really leave a lot of room for the kind of confusion I have with some artist’s work. But here’s more questions: is it possible to photograph people from marginalized groups without it being *about* their membership in that group and the way that the dominant culture treats that group? Must work involving these groups address their status and does it have to “deconstruct existing stereotypes” or “further[...] equality”? Maybe this is really a larger question about the goals of art and how art “should” function. I’m not sure what I think about this.

    I hope Steph weighs in on all this, too.

  • Steph Plourde-Simard // June 26, 2009 at 6:05 pm | Reply

    What I really got out of your post Caleb, is what you said in the 2nd to last paragraph, which leaves me thinking more about possible exploitation in the act of showing the work, rather than in the actual images. John, I’ve wanted to respond to your comments as well — I think we’re talking about a few different things now. I do agree with what both of you have discussed about intent and message. The question I’m most left with is how to navigate an exotified/other-ized response to one’s work if that isn’t the intent, and where education and responsibility and critique fit in when it does seem to be the case, as in the artist/photographer seeming to take advantage of this kind of response in order to further their career.

  • calebcole // June 27, 2009 at 9:31 am | Reply

    Yes, that’s really true… the line of thought about whether the artist has anything to say is really kind of irrelevant in some ways, because the after-exploitation can result from work that’s amazing just as it can from work that is awful. Watching someone who may not otherwise succeed become a success because of their exotic status is maddening, but the question you ask is really the heart of it— how do you respond to a chance to be successful doing what you love when that chance might be offered at the expense of your identity/community? What is your responsibility as an artist from a marginalized community doing work about that community?

  • Alex // July 14, 2009 at 3:04 am | Reply

    For me, this discussion has helped me focus on the aims and aspirations of a project I’ve been intending to start for sometime.

    And that is a book (self-published) well two books as it happens, one about mtf transexuals although possibly ftms, too – the other about transvestites.

    But what I struggle with is whether one would call it art or documentary photography. I’m leaning towards documentary photography. However, regardless of the terminolgy I’ve felt the necessity not just to produce a series of images for people to view, but to provide the viewer with information to help them navigate and make sense of the images before them.

    The way I’ve proposed doing this is to search out members of these communities to request their permission to photograph and interview them. Therefore, they must be willing participants, knowing that they will be published. Due to the often sensitive nature of the subject-matter exact details of a participant’s whereabouts will be with-held.

    The book/project itself has a very definite aim/intent in that I want to get across to/educate the reader as to the huge variation in perspectives that transgendered people have. And to hopefully break down the simplistic stereotypical images people have outside the transgender community itself.

    Without a strong intent, for me, such a project is a non-starter and I would certainly see a project of photographing transgendered people without information/narrative as bordering on exploitation.

    As to whether I gain a reputation off the back of photographing ‘exotic’ people remains to be seen, but if the project helps educate, or has the potential to educate, people outside the transgender community in a positive way, then I don’t see this as exploitation. In a sense, I see it as me and the community I’m a member of helping each other. Something, to be honest, I don’t see a lot of within the transgender community, sadly. But that’s another issue.

    Of course, whose going to read such a book? I can’t see it as being hugely popular, but if the marketing, as in seeking book reviews, is successful who knows, but I’m not holding my breath.

    My book will be based on UK subjects, BTW.

    Thanks again for a thought-provoking article.

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