The Lamp of the body... Mathew 6:22
The Window to the soul... William Shakespeare
Before we were able to talk, my Brother and I were left to crawl and eventually waddle around with our chins touching our chests glaring intensely at everything. Unable to let our parents know, we were unable to see. However, prior to the age of eighteen months it is theorised that as infants we are autonomous within our own environment. Meaning we have no concept of selfawareness. Instead, we simply exist. It is only once an infant recognises its own reflection either literally or figuratively, that the child begins to develop a sense of the self. The psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan emphasised the significance of this early stage of development, which he posited and termed ‘the mirror stage’. It is through our own gaze that we become aware that we can see and thus be seen, this consequently leads to a loss of our autonomy. Lacan theorised that at this moment of realisation a fracture occurs, and that this facture ultimately leads to the formation of the conscious and unconscious mind. Following from this split, it’s speculated that each of us begins a process of forming an idealised construct of our own identity. We then use this identity as a mask to protect ourselves and others from our unconscious and its desires. During this pivotal six months my Brother and I would ha ve blindly scrambled for a sense of self, only to then have to relearn it once granted our sight. However, within Lacan’s radical theory, he goes as far to say that largely we are all detached and entirely oblivious to our real self. Instead, our sense of ourselves is a desperate fiction that we hold onto, that may in fact simply be a ‘symptom’ of being human.
I would like to say a huge thank you to the London College of Optometrists for granting me access to their archives and for allowing me such creative freedom throughout the process of making the work. I’d like to say a specific thank you to the Museum Curator Neil Handley for putting up with me and being so enthusiastic and accomdating throughout my numerous visits. It’s immensely appreicated and the work wouldn’t have been possible without your support. Many thanks to Lewis Brown, Liam Webb, Brandon Dare & Matthew Keenan for helping out when a camera on a timer didn’t quite cut it x
The Freudian and the Optical Unconscious The human unconscious was a term first devised in the 18th century by the German philosopher Friedrich Schelling, it was a concept that was later popularised by the Austrian psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud. Within his psychoanalytic theory Freud uses the metaphor of an iceberg to explain the human psyche in relation to the conscious and unconscious mind. The tip of the iceberg signifies the conscious, the areas of the mind that we’re actively aware of, whilst the predominant mass that lays below the surface symbolises the unconscious (Freud 1915). Freud wrote how the unconscious was an area of the human psyche constructed of our repressed memories and instinctual motivations, as well as the primal urges that relate to sex and aggression. Although, these thought processes occur out of reach from the conscious mind, it’s theorised that these repressed elements actively impact our judgements and behaviour (Freud 1915). Freud’s theory centres around the ‘talking cure’ a therapy cemented within the theory of psychoanalysis. During these sessions the patient is encouraged to speak openly about their dreams, repressed fears and early childhood. The objective being for this dialogue to enable the conscious and unconscious mind to interact, thus bringing elements of the unconscious into the light of consciousness. The analyst then writes a report on their findings in order to form an idea of the patient’s unconscious. However, since the analyst also carries with them an unconscious, this will inevitably impact and misrepresent the process. So, although the human unconscious can be investigated and vaguely represented, it can never be subject to a final theory or conclusive investigation (Fardy 2017). This paradox in which the unconscious mind can be analysed and represented, yet never fully known makes ‘it’ and photography strange bed fellows (Fardy 2017). Fardy discusses the idea that photography is a form of seeing and knowing, yet argues is it ever possible for “photography itself to be finally captured, seen and known?” (Fardy 2017). Numerous other critics and thinkers have drawn parallels between photography and the unconscious mind. Freud himself often used the language of photography in order to explain
his theories. Most notably his metaphor of the photo negative in regard to the unconscious and memory. Freud argued that memories that are not initially made conscious can nevertheless be stored within the unconscious and developed into consciousness at a later time, just as a photo negative can be stored within an archive and then turned into a photo print in the future (Freud 1915). However, possibly the most notable and intriguing parallel, between photography and the Freudian unconscious would be the theory of the optical unconscious. The concept of the optical unconscious was first devised by the theorist Walter Benjamin within his 1931 essay ‘Little History of Photography’. This initial idea was later elaborated on briefly within Benjamin’s 1936 book ‘The Work of Art in The Age of Mechanical Reproduction’. Benjamin’s concept is a widely debated theory that has puzzled many, due to Benjamin’s fleeting definition of the term. Within his description, Benjamin writes how the camera was able to expand the realm of the visible and made apparent the inability’s that the naked eye had in seeing the smaller details within our surroundings (Benjamin 1931). Thus, photography made apparent a deeply uncanny awareness, that we ultimately live in an environment only partially known to us. Since Benjamin’s enquiry many have reinterpreted and expanded on his initial concept. Recently, in 2017 an essay anthology edited by Shawn Michelle Smith titled ‘Photography and the Optical Unconscious’ unearthed numerous areas in which Benjamin’s concept carried significance. The different essays focused on the optical unconscious in relation to the Freudian unconscious, dreams, race, politics, colonialism and the human imaginary. Ultimately, Benjamin’s theory is foundational to numerous areas of theoretical and photographic practices and therefore is of immense importance to contemporary discourse. Within the introduction to Michelle Smith’s anthology Michelle Smith reinforces the importance of the subject, by drawing comparisons to our present era and the decade in which Benjamin first theorised the optical unconscious. In both contexts’ society was marked by war, thus leading to extreme
nationalism to consume the populist vote, mass migrations have similarly become common place. As well as this, there has been a rapid ascension of digital technology. There are now new means of high-speed image making and circulation. This new technology’s significance within the social and political landscape is still not entirely understood and the potential consequences that it may have only recently become known (Michelle Smith 2017). Michelle Smith believes that the time is now right to accept Benjamin’s invitation to consider in far greater depth the new image worlds within our environment that photography has helped bring into view and to also consider the unconscious meanings imbedded within dimensions of our imaged and imagined communities (Michelle Smith 2017). Nevertheless, many theorists and critics find Benjamin’s thoughts to be brief, powerful, yet also problematic. In Rosalind Krauss’s book, ‘The Optical Unconscious’ she writes how she is “struck by the strangeness” (Krauss 1993) of Benjamin’s statements. Krauss goes on to argue that it’s not possible for the visual world to have an unconscious (Krauss 1993). However, many believed that Benjamin wasn’t referring to the natural world but was in fact referring to an ‘other’ nature that is only made visible to the camera. Michelle Smith writes how “Benjamin’s claim speaks to the novel and complex ways in which photography and the human unconscious may intersect” (Michelle Smith 2017). Like Benjamin, the theorist Siegfried Kracauer praises the cameras ability to capture movements and small details within the physical world, that would otherwise go unnoticed. Yet, Kracauer goes on to write how photography’s most fascinating ability is to reveal the “blind spots of the mind” (Kracauer 1960). Within the statement Kracuer makes reference to the elements within our gaze that “habit and prejudice prevent us from noticing” (Kracauer 1960), yet upon later reflection within photographs and film we are able to recognise. The art historian, James Elkin’s writes how within these blind spots, the camera “always shows us things we would have preferred not to see, or don’t want to see, don’t know how to see or don’t know how to acknowledge seeing” (Elkins 2011). Similarly, Elizabeth Abel praises the eye of the camera and its ability to never “overlook what the mind’s eye chooses not to see”
(Abel 2010). Unlike the painter who consciously constructs every element on the canvas, the magic of the photographer lies in what they do not see or do not intend to capture, yet we the viewer are then able to see in future viewings (Michelle Smith 2017). Five years after ‘The Little History of Photography’, Benjamin declared within his book, “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction’ that “it is another nature that speaks to the camera rather than to the eye; ‘other’ above all in the sense that a space informed by human consciousness gives way to one informed by the unconscious” (Benjamin 1936). This is a developed understanding of his original concept this time like Kracuer, Benjamin addresses the cameras ability to capture both minute physical details, yet also the mediums significance in capturing the blind spots of the mind and the expanse of the human imaginary. Ultimately, the camera has the ability to capture the phenomena that the unconscious mind perceives during the original unfolding of the event, thus serving as the Freudian analyst, ever vigilant before the “other nature” that the untrained eye is unable to see within the moment. The photographic print then acts as the analyst’s report, revealing the unseen to the viewer at a later time (Michelle Smith 2017). The scholar Sharon Sliwinski expands upon Benjamin’s statement regarding the ‘other’ nature captured by the camera. Sliwinski believes Benjamin to be referring to photography as having the potential to be an unconscious means of communication. Sliwinski goes on to make reference to Freud and how he may’ve perceived photographs as a vehicle through which “the unconscious of one human being could react upon that of another, without passing through consciousness” (Freud 1915). This is particularly poignant when discussed in relation to family photography. Throughout ‘Family Snaps- The Meaning of Domestic Photography’, Jo Spence discusses how when interpreting family photos, we are inherently emotionally involved. This is due to our memories and private fantasies interweaving with the past and present knowledge of the people and events captured within the frame (Spence 2000). Spence
goes on to describe the family album as being “enriched by the meanings we bring to it... operating at the junction between personal memory and social history, between public myth and personal unconscious” (Spence 2000). Perhaps then, it is these images that act as a direct example of the unconscious communicative potential imbedded within photography. The discourse surrounding Benjamin’s elusive observations remains. Was the optical unconscious intended to be viewed as a concept, an analogy, a metaphor or simply a poetic gesture (Reinhardt 2017)? The varied readings and the philosophies that form the legacy of Benjamin’s original essays often stem from the uncertainty of which applies. In any of these circumstances, the significance of the optical unconscious should not be overlooked. It’s relationship to both the realms of the real, and its elusive connections to psychology, culture and politics, make it fundamental in informing us of the complexities of photography. Particularly, the medium’s perplexing ability to be used to depict our environment, with immense detail. Whilst, simultaneously also capturing the photographer’s blind eye and elements within the frame that overtime may deconstruct habitual fictions of self-identity and what one knows ultimately “by heart and therefore not by sight” (Kracuer 1960). https://www.alexcolley.co.uk
Benjamin, W. (1931). Selected writings- Little History of Photography. Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press. Benjamin, W. (1936). The work of art in the age of mechanical reproduction. London: Penguin Books Ltd. Elkins, J. (2011). What photography is. New York: Routledge. Spence, J. (2000). Family Snaps: The Meanings of Domestic Photography. Virago Press Ltd. Abel, E. (2010). Signs of the times. Berkeley: University of California Press Freud, S. (1915). The unconscious. London: Penguin Books. Kracauer, S. (1960). Theory of Film. The redemption of physical reality. Pl. 61. Oxford University Press: New York. Krauss, R. (1993). The optical unconscious. Cambridge (Mass.): The MIT Press. ‘Photography and The Optical Unconscious’- Edited by Shawn Michelle Smith and Sharon SliwinskiChapter Two- (Michelle Smith 2017), Chapter Four- (Jonathan Fardy 2017)) Chapter Eight- (Rheinhardt 2017) Chapter Fourteen-( Sliwinski 2017)