"What the human eye observes casually and incuriously, the eye of the camera notes with relentless fidelity."- Berenice Abbott
There are
heads. The display window is teeming with heads; pretty heads. Heads adorned
with feathers, fancy wigs, hats. Heads with egg-shaped faces. Faces that are
painted with kohl eyes, twirled eyelashes, and rouge lips. Some of the faces
are half-concealed with masks; masks that are borrowed from a Venetian
masquerade, or an Italian opera. The heads and faces that are so peculiarly
beautiful that they can only belong to the mannequins’. The mannequins whose
torsos are truncated, who are without bodies.
Berenice
Abbott was reputed for her photographic documentation of New York city. In
those photographs Abbott demonstrates her ingenuity in taming the immobile
objects. Architecture and various urban constructions are unlike people; they
are stubborn and hardened; their dogged immobility is a silent refusal to
collaborate with whomever ill-advised enough to approach them like a hunter
approaching his prey. But Abbott was a visionary. She detected the animal
spirit stirring within the stony heart of every building, and provoked it to
burst out of its fossilised shell. Buildings were stimulated into life like
animals finally waken from their interminable hibernation. Abbott would
approach each of them sometimes with caution, as she hid in the alleyway and
only managed to capture a glimpse of its magnificent presence, or aim high her
camera when she tackled the towering figure with more boldness. And once she
finally conquered the formidable monster like Saint George triumphing over a
dragon, she stood atop her conquest and proudly surveying the view beneath her;
she would notice the mass of pedestrians that were once bustling her by as she ventured
into the heart of the urban forest were now rendered tiny like ants. There is
nothing more exhilarating than assuming superiority over those that were once
our equivalents.
Abbott’s
role as a photographer can be described as a fearless hunter on a mission to
hunt down all the peculiar species. But the weapon she used- her camera- was
not one designed to inspire fear in the objects she captured. Her intention
never seemed to be that of imprisoning into her photographs the city of New
York. She was documenting New York without asserting too much authority over her
subject matters. Abbott exhibited through her photographs that a good street
photographer should always be an unobtrusive observer, ceding lights to the
urban vista that is the sole star of the show.
But when it
comes to the mannequins, I suppose that even the most preeminent of
photographers can be so easily baffled. There is no task more difficult than
dealing with something that is constantly in a twilight zone: the mannequins
are lifeless dolls with lifelike physiognomy, can appear to be either lifeless
or lifelike depending on how one perceives them. Abbott opted for no particular
angle in approaching the mannequins, but chose to give them a full-on shot. The
moment she pressed her shutter was the moment the mannequins seemed to come
alive. Those beautiful faces all decided to violate the demands of their
instructor by defiantly turning their heads away from the lens, each of them
looking at different directions, responding apathetically of having their
pictures taken. Just as the photographer might be miffed at having such
recalcitrant prima donnas as her sitters, she unexpectedly succeeded in
producing a memorable photograph- eerie, unnerving, menacing.
And not
just the line between life and lifelessness, photography unwittingly blurs many
more: that between fact and fiction, past and present, subject and object. The
disappearance of the line between the subject and the object was precisely the
core of Abbott’s photography. Of anything on which we normally attach no more
importance than merely a passing notice (an object), through Abbott’s camera it
becomes something of a peculiar value (a subject). But once we cherish that
photograph as an invaluable work of art, Abbott promptly reminds us that the
subject matter can be the most banal of object, which invariably, yet not so
astoundingly, fails to leave imprints in our memories. The photographer
demonstrates that subject and object can be interchangeable, like mannequins,
as well as everything else.
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