michael fried's modernist theory of photography
TRANSCRIPT
This article was downloaded by: [University of Windsor]On: 18 August 2014, At: 05:49Publisher: RoutledgeInforma Ltd Registered in England and Wales Registered Number: 1072954 Registered office: MortimerHouse, 37-41 Mortimer Street, London W1T 3JH, UK
History of PhotographyPublication details, including instructions for authors and subscription information:http://www.tandfonline.com/loi/thph20
Michael Fried's Modernist Theory of PhotographyVered MaimonPublished online: 29 Oct 2010.
To cite this article: Vered Maimon (2010) Michael Fried's Modernist Theory of Photography, History of Photography, 34:4,387-395, DOI: 10.1080/03087291003630139
To link to this article: http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/03087291003630139
PLEASE SCROLL DOWN FOR ARTICLE
Taylor & Francis makes every effort to ensure the accuracy of all the information (the “Content”) containedin the publications on our platform. However, Taylor & Francis, our agents, and our licensors make norepresentations or warranties whatsoever as to the accuracy, completeness, or suitability for any purpose ofthe Content. Any opinions and views expressed in this publication are the opinions and views of the authors,and are not the views of or endorsed by Taylor & Francis. The accuracy of the Content should not be reliedupon and should be independently verified with primary sources of information. Taylor and Francis shallnot be liable for any losses, actions, claims, proceedings, demands, costs, expenses, damages, and otherliabilities whatsoever or howsoever caused arising directly or indirectly in connection with, in relation to orarising out of the use of the Content.
This article may be used for research, teaching, and private study purposes. Any substantial or systematicreproduction, redistribution, reselling, loan, sub-licensing, systematic supply, or distribution in anyform to anyone is expressly forbidden. Terms & Conditions of access and use can be found at http://www.tandfonline.com/page/terms-and-conditions
Michael Fried’s Modernist Theoryof Photography
Vered Maimon
This essay critically analyses Michael Fried’s bookWhy PhotographyMatters as Art asNever Before. It examines the relevance of Fried’s categories of absorption andtheatricality to contemporary photography and his assumption that photographyis an inherently modernist art. In his book Fried explains the shift to large-scalecolour photographs in the 1980s as signalling a return to problems of beholding,which dominated painting since the 1750s and 1760s. In contrast, this essay arguesthat this shift reveals the importance of the legacy of conceptualism and minimalismto recent photography and, in particular, the role of the conceptual ‘document’within contemporary artistic practices.
Keywords: Michael Fried (1939–), Jeff Wall (1946–), Thomas Ruff (1958–), Roland
Barthes (1915–80), medium specificity, theatricality, photography theory
Michael Fried’sWhy Photography Matters as Art as Never Before argues that, with the
emergence, in the late 1970s and 1980s, of large-scale colour photographs that are
made for the wall, ‘issues concerning the relationship between the photograph and
the viewer standing before it became crucial for photography as they had never
previously been’.1 Photography matters as art as never before because with this shift
in photographic practice, photography inherited the problem of beholding – which
Fried analysed in his previous historical books on French painting in terms of the
opposition between absorption and theatricality, and also in his critical writings,
most notably ‘Art and Objecthood’, as the opposition between high modernism and
minimalism.2 Contemporary photography, according to Fried, presents yet another
twist in the dialectical struggle of modernist painting to overcome theatricality after
what seemed to be its final defeat in the 1970s and 1980s with the pervasive
dominance of postmodernism. Thus, while the photographs by all the major artists
discussed in the book, such as Jeff Wall, Thomas Struth, Thomas Ruff, Andreas
Gursky, and Rineke Dijkstra, belong to a ‘single photographic regime’ and represent
‘an epochal development within the history of art photography’, they are understood
by Fried as further continuing ‘the ontology of pictures that were first theorized by
Denis Diderot with respect to stage drama and painting on the late 1750s and 60s’.3
It is clear that Fried’s argument is formulated as both a critical position and a
historical proposition. Previously Fried insisted on an ‘unbridgeable gulf’ between
his historical writings and critical ones, but this book is ‘generically mixed – at once
criticism and history’.4 Moreover, Fried’s previous books focused on painting and
emphasised the idea of medium specificity as a condition for aesthetic value and
quality. Does Fried’s book on photography reconsider his notorious claim in ‘Art
and Objecthood’ that ‘The concepts of quality and value – and to the extent that these
are central to art, the concept of art itself – are meaningful, or wholly meaningful, only
I sincerely thank James Elkins for his
comments on an earlier version of the essay.
1 – Michael Fried, Why Photography Matters
as Art as Never Before, New Haven and
London: Yale University Press 2008, 2.
2 – Fried’s books include: Michael Fried,
Absorption and Theatricality: Painting and
Beholder in the Age of Diderot, Berkeley and
Los Angeles: University of California Press
1980; Courbet’s Realism, Chicago: University
of Chicago Press 1990; and Manet’s
Modernism, or, the Face of Painting in the
1860s, Chicago: University of Chicago Press
1996. Fried’s essay ‘Art and Objecthood’
originally appeared in Artforum, 5:10 (June
1967), 116–47. My references are from the
reprint in Gregory Battcock, ed., Minimal
Art: A Critical Anthology, New York:
E. P. Dutton 1968.
3 – Fried, Why Photography Matters, 2.
4 – Ibid., 4.
History of Photography, Volume 34, Number 4, November 2010
ISSN 0308-7298 # 2010 Taylor & Francis
Dow
nloa
ded
by [
Uni
vers
ity o
f W
inds
or]
at 0
5:49
18
Aug
ust 2
014
within the individual arts.What lies between the arts is theatre’? 5 Diarmuid Costello
argues that Fried’s ‘photographic turn’ marks not a break with his earlier position
but ‘a logical extension of the terms of his early work’, and that ‘Fried’s conception of
medium specificity contains the seeds of its own dissolution’.6 While Fried accepted
Clement Greenberg’s idea that individual arts have distinct essences, he opposed
Greenberg’s assertion that the arts have timeless essences. What defines a medium
according to Fried is not any a priori set of substantive constraints or an ‘irreducible
essence’ (such as flatness). Rather, as he argues in ‘Art and Objecthood’, these are
simply ‘theminimal conditions for something’s being seen as a painting’, yet the crucial
question is ‘what at a given moment, is capable of compelling conviction, of
succeeding as painting. This is not to say that painting has no essence; it is to claim
that that essence – i.e. that which compels conviction – is largely determined by, and
therefore changes continually in response to, the vital work of the recent past’.7 Thus,
at any given moment, painters need to discover the conventions that will compel
conviction and secure the identity of their paintings.8 For Costello this suggests that
what ultimately defines a medium is a ‘structure of artistic intention’ – the way artists
address artistic tradition and the means they employ in order to compel conviction
in the viewer.9
In this reading, Fried’s idea of medium specificity is very broad because, as
Costello argues, ‘artistic media are not defined physically, causally, or ontologi-
cally’,10 but based on their ability to stand comparison with the works from the
past regardless of the specific material or empirical means they employ. Based on this
logic, Costello argues, Wall can intelligibly be defined as a painter while Gerhard
Richter may be viewed as a photographer. Thus although Fried insists on changes
within a specific medium, Costello shows that once time is introduced into the
definition of a medium, ‘the idea of change internal to medium can only mean
internal to a structure of intention operating within and against the constraints laid
down by exemplary past work’.11 The introduction of time thus makes it impossible
to sustain clear demarcations between artistic media because it is not clear what will
count as painting in the future. Rather than distinct media, Fried’s conception of the
medium leads to the idea of a ‘pictorial continuum’ in which painting and photo-
graphy – and in the case of Wall, also cinema – are part of a single set of aesthetic
criteria.12
This interpretation is convincing in so far as Fried mostly refrains from addres-
sing photography as a specific modernist medium in the way, for example, John
Szarkowski defined it in The Photographer’s Eye when he argued for aesthetic ‘con-
cepts’ that are specific to photography.13 For the most part, Fried’s book aims to
show not that photography is a specific modernist medium with distinct character-
istics, but precisely the opposite; that it is amodern art because the new photographic
regime shares the same concerns that underlined painting from the 1760s to high
modernism. Fried thus argues that the solution some artists found to the problem of
theatricality ‘is inconceivable outside the medium of photography’ and that specific
anti-theatrical procedures belong ‘exclusively to the medium of photography’.14 In
fact, he goes as far as to suggest that once photography is understood in this manner
it ‘may be thought as an ontological medium’.15 Yet, he does not explain why
problems of beholding became relevant again at this specific time and why they are
‘staged’ again in photography and not in painting, where they originated. That is,
while his ontological claims about contemporary photography can be understood as
historically specific, they are not presented in the form of an elaborated ‘historical
explanation’ but as a critical demonstration.
Moreover, it is precisely the emphasis on historical continuity and the idea of the
‘pictorial’ that makes the historical claims of Fried’s book problematic. While Fried
argues for a ‘new photographic regime’ and for a major ‘development’ in the history
of photography, he grounds his argument on an ahistorical assumption of a ‘pri-
mordial convention’ that paintings or pictures are made to be beheld, ignoring not
only historical changes in artistic modes of production and reception to which
5 – Fried, ‘Art and Objecthood’, 142
(original emphasis).
6 – Diarmuid Costello, ‘After Medium
Specificity Chez Fried: Jeff Wall as a Painter;
Gerhard Richter as a Photographer’, in
Photography Theory, ed. James Elkins, New
York and London: Routledge 2007, 77–8. See
also Costello’s ‘On the Very Idea of a
‘‘Specific’’ Medium: Michael Fried and
Stanley Cavell on Painting and Photography
as Arts’, Critical Inquiry 34 (Winter 2008),
274–312.
7 – Fried, ‘Art and Objecthood’, 123–4
(emphasis in original).
8 – Costello shows that Fried and Cavell,
based on Wittgenstein, understand
conventions as ‘Rooted in forms of life – that
is, deep and pervasive patterns of underlying
agreement or attunement in the absence of
which we could neither understand one
another nor share a world’. Thus while
conventions are not ‘timeless essences’, they
are also not arbitrary – which explains how
Fried can criticise Greenberg but still hold to
the idea that the arts have distinct essences.
See Costello, ‘On the Very Idea’, 290.
9 – Costello, ‘After Medium Specificity’, 80.
10 – Ibid., 83.
11 – Costello, ‘On the Very Idea’, 311.
12 – Costello, ‘After Medium Specificity’, 80.
This is also what Jeff Wall argues in his
‘Frames of Reference’, Artforum 42:1
(September 2003), 190.
13 – John Szarkowski, The Photographer’s
Eye, New York: Museum of Modern Art
1966.
14 – Fried,Why Photography Matters, 341–2.
15 – Ibid., 347.
388
Vered Maimon
Dow
nloa
ded
by [
Uni
vers
ity o
f W
inds
or]
at 0
5:49
18
Aug
ust 2
014
photography was in part responsible, but also in the status of the beholders and their
relations to the world and to visual forms of representation. As Jonathan Crary
showed in his groundbreaking Techniques of the Observer, what counted as an
observer and as beholding changed significantly in the nineteenth century and
continues to change.16 Most importantly, Crary demonstrated, following Michel
Foucault’s Discipline and Punish, how any notion of an observer, and in particular
the modern observer, cannot be simply located and identified within the realm of art
and models of representation, but has to be seen as directly linked to broad forma-
tions of knowledge and specific practices of power. He thus stated that ‘the observer
is actually just one effect of the construction of a new kind of subject or individual in
the nineteenth century’.17 The idea that there is one model of beholding and an
observer that exists strictly within the realm of art is simply not tenable from a
historical point of view, and the same goes for a transhistorical idea of the ‘pictorial’,
which ignores the fact that history presents many different forms of visual intellig-
ibility. That is, it is only from a very limited (‘art photography’) and inherently
ahistorical perspective (beholding as an unqualified act) that one can argue that
painting, photography and film necessarily share the same set of aesthetic concerns.
While Fried’s historical account is dialectical and not evolutionary, the idea of a
pictorial tradition that finds its fullest contemporary expression in photography
echoes in its logic (not content) the much challenged idea that photography marks
the teleological endpoint of the western tradition of picture-making in term of a
search for resemblance. Fried’s book simply changes the terms of the argument, not
its inherent historical logic: rather than visual verisimilitude, it argues for ‘pictori-
alism’. The philosophical, almost existential, dialectical struggle that Fried now
applies to art photography necessitates, as Stephen Melville has shown, some kind
of a ‘fixed Absolute’, that might be viable as a critical or ethical position but not as a
serious historical proposition.18
In this regard, it is not surprising that Wall’s work receives a privileged place in
Fried’s book and that it proves to be the most amenable to his critical criteria and
historical thesis as well as to his mobilisation of philosophical texts, mainly by
Heidegger and Wittgenstein. After all, Wall’s work is informed by Fried’s modernist
aesthetic categories, while Fried’s own ideas on photography developed in part from
his friendship with Wall. Like Fried’s categories, Wall’s work assumes the same kind
of historical continuity of ‘pictorialism’ as is manifested in his effort to ‘resurrect’ or
‘rehabilitate’ the ‘painting of modern life’ via photography. Thus, as Rosalind Krauss
argues, Wall’s works ‘gaily vault over the unhappy choice modernism gave itself of
either gaining access to pictorial unity at the cost of narrative, three-dimensional
space (unity therefore lodged in the material conditions of the surface), or admitting
that such unity was irrevocably incompatible with the texture of real experience
by means of the strategies of figurative dis-unity vested in collage and photo-
montage’.19 Yet the main issue is whether Wall’s works can function as a ‘meta-
model’ for the other artists’ works discussed in the book; whether the ahistorical
assumption of ‘pictorialism’ that underlines Wall’s practice pertains at all to the new
art photography as a ‘single photographic regime’. In fact, what becomes clear upon
reading Fried’s book is how different the works of Wall, Ruff, Struth, Dijkstra,
Thomas Demand, Candida Hofer and Philip-Lorca di Corcia are from each other,
not simply in terms of individual interests but of aesthetic positions and the way they
engage with issues of historical discontinuity and the legacy of high modernism,
conceptualism and minimalism.
Nevertheless, while Fried in this book still stands behind his ‘primordial’
opposition of absorption and theatricality, he also revises his argument in a sig-
nificant way. Since Fried extracted these categories from Diderot’s writings on
theatre and painting, he needs to explicate what these categories mean in the realm
of photography and film. The distinction between these terms is ontological and rests
on the idea that the beholder and the painting belong to two inherently separate
‘worlds’. For Fried, an object can be viewed as a painting only through belief and the
16 – See Jonathan Crary, Techniques of the
Observer: On Vision and Modernity in the
Nineteenth Century, Cambridge, MA: MIT
1990, 25–66.
17 – Ibid., 14.
18 – In his deconstructive analysis of Fried’s
modernist aesthetic theory, Stephen Melville
shows that while Fried’s ‘story’ of painting is
dialectical and ‘in principle not submitted to
the authority of any Absolute. At the same
time, it is a story that cannot be told except
through the postulation of some Absolute
somewhere’. The absolute, as Melville shows,
consists of the belief that painting can exist in
a ‘pure’ state of anti-theatricality, rather than
recognising its inherent inseparability from
the theatre. See Stephen Melville, ‘Notes on
the Reemergence of Allegory, the Forgetting
of Modernism, the Necessity of Rhetoric,
and the Conditions of Publicity in Art and
Criticism’, October 19 (Winter 1981), 65.
19 – Rosalind Krauss, ‘‘‘. . . And Then Turn
Away?’’ An Essay on James Coleman’,
October 81 (Summer 1997), 28–9.
389
Michael Fried’s Modernist Theory of Photography
Dow
nloa
ded
by [
Uni
vers
ity o
f W
inds
or]
at 0
5:49
18
Aug
ust 2
014
experience of transcendence (what he famously called, in ‘Art and Objecthood’,
‘Presentness’). The experience of painting and aesthetic experience in general are
based on a paradox. In order to attract or ‘enthrall’ the beholder, a painting needs to
establish the fiction of his absence. Absorption thus marks a set of strategies in which
this illusion is sustained, either through the depiction of people absorbed in their
activities or as an artistic effect of dramatic action, whereas in theatricality this
illusion is undone as the beholder is addressed directly or acknowledged. This is a
critical and moral distinction as Fried argues in Absorption and Theatricality:
the very condition of spectatordom, stands indicted as theatrical, a medium ofdislocation and estrangement rather than of absorption, sympathy, self-transcendence; and the success of both arts, in fact their continued functioningas major expressions of the human spirit, are held to depend upon whether ornot painter and dramatist are able to undo that state of affairs, to de-theatricalizebeholding and so make it once again a mode of access to truth and conviction,albeit a truth and a conviction that cannot be entirely equated with any knownor experienced before.20
For Fried, absorption in the painting correlates with the painter’s absorption in the
act of painting and mirrors the absorption of the beholder in front of the work: in
this regard it is also a condition for self-reflexivity.
The question is how these categories pertain to photography and film. In ‘Art
and Objecthood’, Fried argued that:
Because cinema escapes theatre – automatically, as it were – it provides awelcome and absorbing refuge to sensibilities at war with theatre and theatri-cality. At the same time, the automatic, guaranteed character of the refuge –more accurately, the fact that what is provided is a refuge from theatre and not atriumph over it – means that the cinema, even at its most experimental, is not amodernist art.21
And he evokes a similar argument in relation to photography when he states that
because photography is a technology for automatically depicting the world, the sense
of the painter’s absorption in the act of painting over time cannot be achieved in
photography and this makes it is difficult to read it in these terms.22
This is what makes contemporary photography so fascinating to Fried. The way
artists like Wall operate against the grain of this state of affairs by using conventions
from cinema to create a ‘photographic distance’ through which theatricality is no
longer simply avoided but ‘forestalled or undone’.23 Contemporary photography
reinserts theatricality into the experience of beholding by emphasising the artifici-
ality and the deliberate construction and labour that are involved in the making of
photographs, what Fried calls ‘to-be-seenness’, but it does not succumb to it as
minimalism has done. Reopening the problem of beholding thus means not a return
to absorption, a complete sealing of the space of the photograph from that of the
beholder, but an acknowledgment that, after minimalism, it is no longer possible to
sustain the illusion that the beholder is absent. Hence this in-between sense of ‘to-be-
seenness’, where the beholder is aware that things are ‘staged’ in a specific manner for
him, yet is still able to experience the photograph as displaying a separate ‘world’, a
‘tableau’ that exists independently from him. Fried also argues, in his analysis of the
film Zidane: A 21st Century Portrait by Douglas Gordon and Philippe Parreno
(2006), that the relation between absorption and theatricality no longer needs to
be thought of as one of opposition, but as one of overlapping and displacement.24
And he also argues in relation to the works of the Bernd and Hilla Becher and James
Welling that there is ‘good’ objecthood of real and specific objects as opposed to
abstract and ‘generic’ objects. From this point of view, the problem with minimal-
ism, he states, was that its objects were not real or specific enough.25
Yet, regardless of Fried’s new position that absorption and theatricality are
now mingled, his analysis is conducted in a manner that emphasises, yet again,
the hierarchical opposition between absorption and theatricality. For Fried,
20 – Fried, Absorption and Theatricality, 104.
Hal Foster point outs that with the idea of
‘conviction’, Fried demands devotion for art.
Thus the main threat of minimalism ‘is not
only that it may disrupt the autonomy of art
but that it may corrupt belief in art’. In this
regard, art rather than being separated from
religion art is a ‘secret substitute for the
moral disciplining of the subject that religion
once provided’. See Hal Foster, ‘The Crux of
Minimalism’, The Return of the Real,
Cambridge, MA: MIT 1996, 52–3.
21 – Fried, ‘Art and Objecthood’, 141.
22 – Fried, Why Photography Matters, 50.
23 – Ibid., 13.
24 – Ibid., 230.
25 – Ibid., 304.
390
Vered Maimon
Dow
nloa
ded
by [
Uni
vers
ity o
f W
inds
or]
at 0
5:49
18
Aug
ust 2
014
contemporary photography has an aesthetic value because it is seen as operating
within the still viable, according to Fried, field of modernism. Thus the most striking
feature of his interpretations is the way they downplay how contemporary photo-
graphy has assimilated conceptual and minimalist strategies and models of practice.
Fried is less interested in offering comprehensive interpretations of contemporary
photography than in ‘proving’ that it falls within the anti-theatrical tradition of art.
This becomes most evident in the chapter where Fried addresses Jean-Francois
Chevrier’s important text on the ‘tableau form’. Chevrier argues that the shift in
scale in art photography and the fact that photographs were ‘designed and produced
for the wall’ marks a spectatorial reorientation for photography by inviting ‘a
confrontational experience on the part of the spectator that sharply contrasts with
the habitual process of appropriation and projection whereby photographic images
are normally received and ‘‘consumed’’’. He also emphasises that this implies ‘no
nostalgia for painting’ and that the ‘frontality of the picture hung on or affixed to the
wall and its autonomy as an object are not sufficient as finalities’. The importance of
the tableau form thus consists in the reactivation of ‘a thinking based on fragments,
openness and contradiction, not the utopia of a comprehensive or systematic
order’.26 For Chevrier, the scale of the new photographs and the remobilisation of
the ‘tableau’ form cannot mark a return, however modified, to painting, because any
sense of autonomy that the new photographs communicate is inextricably bound
with their status as ‘objects’. Thus, while for Chevrier the fact that new photography
no longer triggers identification and imaginary projection from the beholder is
simply a way to prevent a sense of interpretative closure and completeness, for
Fried it stands for a necessary and sufficient condition for an ‘ontological’ division
between the ‘world’ of the picture as completely sealed and separate from the ‘world’
of the beholder.
This assumption leads Fried to uncomplicated readings of the works and artists’
texts he often quotes at length. For example, he quotes Jean-Marc Bustamante, who
states:
I wanted not to make photographs that would be art, but art that would bephotography. I refused the small format and the craft aspect of black and white.I wanted to move into color, in a format for the wall, in order to give to thephotograph the dimensions of a tableau, to transform it into an object’.27
It is clear that for Bustamante, as for Chevrier, the tableau is a means to emphasise
rather than ‘overcome’ the object status of his works. This, together with his
resistance to manual craft, the serial nature of his work that is entitled Tableau and
then a number, the fact that his images are of indistinct peripheral sites with no
‘events’, makes his work directly linked to both conceptualism and minimalism.
Consider, for example, his Tableau No. 43 (1981).28 The photograph is structured
around a divide or enclosure composed of identical metal panels that separates run-
down concrete cubic structures and buildings from what seems like an unpaved road
or parking area. In the background, amidst the concrete structures, a woman with
two children appears, while the foreground is dominated by the small pebbles in the
road. There is nothing in the photograph, as Fried states, which invites any imagi-
native projection due also to the fact that its overall sharpness and composition
prevents the viewer from focusing on any specific part, not even on the human
figures that are completely indistinct. Yet, these observations can mean something
completely different from the ‘ontological fact’ that the viewer and the image belong
to different worlds. It can mean a clear correspondence between a visual rhetoric of
equivalence and the subject matter of the image, which is marked by repetition (the
metal panels, the cubic structures, the two children, and pebbles), by a non-
hierarchical order as in the minimalist aesthetic of ‘one thing after another’ that
was meant to internalise industrial forms of production. In fact, it is precisely the
sense of an order that is not simply formal, but also architectural, social and cultural
that provides coherency to the image. That is, it is because the viewer identifies this
26 – Quoted in ibid., 143.
27 – Quoted in ibid., 22.
28 – Ibid., 20.
391
Michael Fried’s Modernist Theory of Photography
Dow
nloa
ded
by [
Uni
vers
ity o
f W
inds
or]
at 0
5:49
18
Aug
ust 2
014
order as an underlining architectural and urban condition (the legacy of the by now
discredited modern functionalist architecture) that the image acquires legibility.
The fact that the term ‘tableau’ is used does not mean that the premises and ideas
that were associated with it in Diderot’s writings are relevant. Fried acknowledges the
importance of minimalism to Bustamante’s photographs, yet he argues that they do
not take ‘the further step that would fully identify them with minimalist objecthood,
whatever that would mean in this context’.29 Yet what his interpretation fails to
register by insisting on the critical opposition between absorption and theatricality is
that Bustamante’s photographs, in their seriality and strict elimination of subjectivity
as a locus of both production and reception, point out that in current artistic
practices the ‘tableau’ has become inextricably bound to the conceptual ‘document’
and the minimalist object. That is, it is precisely the ‘object’ status of these photo-
graphs that make it impossible to associate it with any form of transcendental and
humanistic experience.
Fried wants to find self-sufficient ‘pictures’ in contemporary photography that
compel conviction and belief, yet what he often finds are ‘documents’, not in any
material or empirical sense but in a conceptual and epistemological one. Consider,
for example, his account of Ruff’s Portraits. Ruff insists that his Portraits have no
psychological aspects and that they refuse to function as a projective screen for
viewers’ narratives and experiences. He famously stated that ‘I can only show the
surface’ and that viewers should ‘take the picture as a picture’.30 The last statement
sounds to Fried as ‘a modernist ideal’ and opens a discussion on the relations
between the ‘facingness’ of the photographs, the way their frontal nature is echoed
in their subject matter, which places them ‘firmly in the orbit of painting’ because
‘this is a crucial aspect of easel painting [. . .] that its products hang on the wall and
face their beholders, who typically stand facing them in a relationship of something
like mutual reflection; the frontal portrait as a subgenre makes that relationship only
more perspicuous than it otherwise would be’.31 Yet, what justification is there to
treat Ruff’s photographs as if they were easel paintings, when the most obvious
reference for them, as Ruff himself states, is a specific photographic genre, the
passport photograph that is the emblem of the photographic ‘document’ in the
history of photography? Again, it is only once the history of photography as a form of
social and culture practice is ignored that one can seriously argue Ruff’s Portraits
belong to ‘the orbit of painting’. Yet, with this generic reference in mind, it is clear
that Ruff’s works and statements evoke not the autonomy and aesthetic self-
sufficiently of modernist painting, but what Benjamin Buchloh called, in relation
to conceptual art, an ‘aesthetic of administration’.32 In this regard, ‘to take a picture
as a picture’ means precisely not to ‘behold’ it, but to ‘take’ it as an object by
eliminating any sense of projection or reflection, any form of expression, symbolisa-
tion and transcendence, to create works that intentionally fail to convey
conviction.33
This was also noted by James Elkins, who points out that portraits by Ruff,
Struth, Dijsktra and Beat Streuli reveal something ‘more like a vegetative state than
distraction or even pure unreadable blankness that might, in theory, attend to the act
of being seen’.34 For Elkins this marks the ‘failure’ of the works to stand comparison
with works from the past. Yet, is not this ‘failure’ precisely the condition under which
contemporary art operates today? And in this regard, are not these works emblematic
rather than ‘aesthetically’ deficient? The fact is the face is no longer the site of ‘mutual
reflection’ between painting and beholder, but has become the site (between user and
a computer screen) of ‘dislocation and estrangement’? This has nothing to do with
the specific history of painting and beholding, as Fried seems to suggest when he
attributes the issue of ‘facingness’ to his analysis of Manet’s paintings.35 Instead it has
to do with specific and broad formations of subjectivity and the power relations in
which they are embedded, as Ruff’s photographs suggest when they displace the
‘psychological portrait’ into an enlarged mug-shot that brings to mind institutional
disciplinary requirements of identification and surveillance.
29 – Fried, Why Photography Matters, 23.
30 – Quoted in ibid., 148.
31 – Ibid., 149.
32 – See Benjamin Buchloh, ‘Conceptual Art
1962–1969: From the Aesthetic of
Administration to the Critique of
Institutions’, October 55 (Winter 1990),
105–43.
33 – In a roundtable discussion with Fried,
Krauss and Buchloh that took place at the
Dia Art Foundation in 1987, Hal Foster told
Fried that ‘a primary motive of the
innovative art of my generation is precisely
that it not compel conviction – that is trouble
conviction, that it demystify belief’. While
Foster refers to the art of the 1970s and
1980s, his assertion also points to the fact
that the legacy of minimalism and
conceptualism as well as postmodernism
cannot be ignored in the context of
contemporary photography. See Hal Foster,
ed., Discussions in Contemporary Culture,
Seattle: Bay Press 1987, 80.
34 – See James Elkins, ‘Critical Response:
What Do We Want Photography to Be? A
Response to Michael Fried’, Critical Inquiry
31 (Summer 2005), 953.
35 – See Fried, Manet’s Modernism.
392
Vered Maimon
Dow
nloa
ded
by [
Uni
vers
ity o
f W
inds
or]
at 0
5:49
18
Aug
ust 2
014
As an aesthetic and moral category, absorption was a means through which
painters thought to make their paintings more expressive by communicating a sense
of psychological interiority and inwardness. In contrast, what is communicated in
contemporary photographic portraits is not any sense of interiority or ‘ontological’
self-sufficiency but blankness, a radical sense of ‘voidance’ or absence, yet not of the
humanist beholder, but of the modern subject as an agent of expression, action and
meaning. It is in this sense that the conceptual ‘document’ has become an ‘episte-
mological horizon’ within which contemporary art operates.36 And it is Ruff’s work,
in particular his recent works where he manipulates and enlarges images that he
extracts from the Web, that best attest to this.
Consider, for example, Ruff’s latest series of jpegs, which is composed of large-
scale photographs that appear blurred and pixelated. Are these best addressed as
recalling ‘the pointillist structure of neo-impressionism’ as Fried suggests?37 A
strictly formalist point of view cannot provide an adequate interpretation for these
images because it ignores the source and content of these images (all are ready-made,
low-resolution web images and many are of disasters like the burning of the twin
towers), as well as the way they are produced. As Bennett Simpson argues, ‘it seems
impossible to view Ruff’s photographs as pictures without simultaneously viewing
them as processes. Their content stands for their condition’.38 The very fact that they
are named after a compression format for digital photographic files and are sampled
from the web ‘archive’ suggests precisely the condition of the document that acquires
its status independently from an ‘author’, and, rather than displaying ‘skill’, exhibits
the conditions of its production and classification, in this case as media images. It is
the epistemological tension between transparency and opacity in the photographic
document that interests Ruff. Its intensified circulation in books, newspapers or web
pages, on the one hand, and its inherent ‘muteness’ or ‘blankness’, on the other,
which triggers the ‘work of meaning’ but also defies it.
By enlarging these images and displaying them as pictures, Ruff suggests not
‘pictorial’ autonomy but a radical sense of cultural heteronomy, the fact that the
‘document’ is no longer simply a conceptual strategy but has become a historical
condition for any form of artistic and cultural practice in the current age, regardless
of the fact that it could be enlarged and hung on the wall like a picture. This only
emphasises the inseparability of different modes of beholding (pornographic, com-
mercial, social and aesthetic) from a wide range of visual forms of intelligibility.
Fried’s book stretches the categories of absorption and anti-theatricality in a way
that fails to point to a historical difference. Sometimes his insistence on the impor-
tance of beholding is perplexing and exposes the fact, against his intentions, that
these categories might not be applicable to photography at all or that they are only
relevant in a highly compromised state that completely evaporates their critical
viability. In his analysis of Gursky’s work, for example, Fried argues that the sense
of distance achieved through the use of the telephoto lens functions as a ‘severing
device’ and negates the ‘very possibility of reciprocity’ between not only the viewer
and the human subjects that are depicted but also between him and the picture itself,
thereby ‘declaring the picture’s antitheatricality – also its autonomy or self-
sufficiency – in quintessentially photographic terms (a painting with comparably
small tiny figures [. . .] would have nothing like the same import)’.39 The condition
for experiencing Gursky’s photographs as comprehensive and self-contained wholes
is thus mainly technical or ‘automatic’, their overall focus, level of sharpness and
detail leading to a ‘disembodied photographic ‘‘seeing’’’ and to a situation where ‘the
picture is free to pursue truly ‘‘abstract’’ ends’.40 Yet, if the condition for the
autonomy of the picture is technological, how can it mark an ethical or moral
‘ontological’ separateness? Does the use of technology ‘automatically’ signal an
ontological claim? If in Gursky’s photographs absorption is mainly a technical effect
(also of digital manipulation) as opposed to an artistic one, how are they different
from films in which there is a ‘refuge’ from the theatre but not a ‘triumph’ over it? If
there is no technical and perceptual possibility of reciprocity, how can the viewer be
36 – Consider the many exhibitions, since
Documenta 11 (Kassel 2002), which
significantly marked this concern, on the
‘document’ and the ‘documentary’ in
contemporary art; for example, Archive
Fever: Uses of the Document in Contemporary
Art, International Center of Photography,
New York 2008; and The Greenroom:
Reconsidering the Documentary and
Contemporary Art, Bard College’s Center for
Curatorial Studies and Hessel Museum of
Art, Annandale-on Hudson, New York 2009.
37 – Fried, Why Photography Matters, 154.
38 – Bennett Simpson, untitled text, in
Thomas Ruff: Jpegs, Aperture 2009, n.p.
39 – Fried, Why Photography Matters, 158.
40 – Ibid., 165.
393
Michael Fried’s Modernist Theory of Photography
Dow
nloa
ded
by [
Uni
vers
ity o
f W
inds
or]
at 0
5:49
18
Aug
ust 2
014
avoided? ‘Severing’ the viewer is something much stronger than creating the ‘illu-
sion’ that he is absent. In the latter the viewer is a factor in the representational act,
while in the other he is not. In this regard, Gursky’s photographs are untheatrical or
non-theatrical not anti-theatrical. Fried is aware of this when he states ‘that absorp-
tion in Gursky is consistently ‘‘flat’’ or mechanical; nowhere is it perceived to imply
the least inwardness or psychic depth on the part of his human subjects’.41 Yet, if this
is the case, then what is the critical currency of the term in relation to Gursky’s work?
How, if it became so ‘flat’, can absorption function as a mean of ‘sympathy’ or
transcendence? And if it became another mean of estrangement, then its critical
feasibility seems to be completely voided.
A similar problem also arises in Fried’s analysis of Roland Barthes’s Camera
Lucida where absorption becomes ‘ontologized’. Fried suggests reading Barthes’s
concept of the ‘punctum’ in terms of anti-theatricality, as a detail that should not be
seen as intended for the viewer. For Barthes, the condition for the experience of the
‘punctum’ is that it will be seen but not shown as if intentionally arranged by the
photographer. The ‘punctum’ is thus a detail that was part of the photographic event
and that the photographer could not photograph. This for Fried marks an anti-
theatrical claim, a demand that it will ‘carry within it a kind of ontological guarantee
that it was not intended to be so by the photographer – a requirement that goes well
beyond anything to be found in Diderot’.42 Fried also interprets Barthes’s elabora-
tion of the ‘punctum’ as an experience of temporal intensity – looking at Alexander
Gardner’s portrait of Lewis Payne taken before his hanging for his part in Lincoln’s
assassination with the thought ‘he is going to die’ – as a ‘guarantor’ of anti-
theatricality because ‘the sense of something being past [. . .] cannot be perceived
by the photographer’.43 Yet, the sense of temporal non-coincidence between present
and past is something that happens in every photograph: this is what for Barthes
marks the ontological specificity of photography. Does that mean that all photo-
graphy, like cinema, is by its ‘nature’ anti-theatrical? The same goes for the unin-
tended detail that comes out of the fact that photography is an ‘automatic’ form of
depiction, thus potentially every photograph can have an unintended detail.44 For
Barthes this does not constitute a problem because the ‘punctum’ is conceptualised
by him as irreducibly subjective – it is not the detail that counts, but its unique effect
on a specific individual. Thus all photographs have the potential to trigger the
experience of the ‘punctum’, but in reality only specific ones do because of the
beholder’s particular psychological disposition, biography, etc. Barthes’s text
assumes not ‘the beholder’ but a highly specific one – himself. Fried’s analysis
awkwardly ‘translates’ Barthes’s explicitly non-theoretical engagement with the
relations between a specific viewer and individual photographs into a general aes-
thetic theory of anti-theatricality that insists on the ‘autonomy’ of pictures. It is one
thing to argue that photography is an ontological medium (as opposed to an artistic
one) because of its specific indexical relation to the real, and another to argue that it
is ‘ontologically’ anti-theatrical. Barthes’s claim is not aesthetic or evaluative – in
fact, it is meant to oppose the aesthetisation of photography – while Fried’s is. Again,
what is at stake is the critical viability of anti-theatricality as an aesthetic and moral
category. If it is not conceptualised an intended artistic effect, how can it offer valid
value judgements with regard to works of art?
Fried’s categories work best when they are significantly modified not stretched –
for example, in his brilliant analysis of Thomas Struth’s family portraits, which are,
needless to say, very different from Ruff’s because they still preserve, even in a
vanishing mode, some notion of self-contained and autonomous subjectivity.45
What makes his interpretation fascinating is the way it effectively mobilises the
idea of ‘to-be-seeness’ as an in-between category that works against the grain of
both portrait photography’s inherent theatricality (the fact that subjects look at the
camera) and the medium’s automatic non-theatricality. Fried points out that in
Struth’s portraits, subjects are not exhibited or posed by Struth but position them-
selves and that they are asked to look at the camera, and not at Struth, who does not
41 – Ibid., 173.
42 – Ibid., 102.
43 – Ibid., 104.
44 – This is also argued in James Elkins‘s
essay ‘Critical Response’, where he shows
that Fried’s interpretation of Barthes’s
‘punctum’ requires him to address different
kinds of photographs, not merely artistic
ones that include ‘unintended details’. In this
regard, his interpretation cannot support
any notion of an ‘aesthetic autonomy’ with
regard to photography.
45 – On Struth’s family portraits, see
Benjamin H.D. Buchloh, ‘Portraits/Genre:
Thomas Struth’, in Thomas Struth: Portraits,
Munich and London: Schirmer Art Books
1997, 150–62.
394
Vered Maimon
Dow
nloa
ded
by [
Uni
vers
ity o
f W
inds
or]
at 0
5:49
18
Aug
ust 2
014
stand behind the camera. Struth also intentionally prolongs exposure time and takes
many shots. Struth’s portraits productively link the place an individual assumes in
the psychological entity of the family with the way he consciously presents himself to
the camera. Each portrait thus presents two complementary axes, Fried argues, a
lateral one lies within the picture and relates to the relations between the family
members, and an orthogonal one of the frontal gaze that extends from the picture to
the viewer. While the family axis ‘is marked by unawareness’, the ‘axis of address is
indeed marked by awareness of being photographed’. Thus ‘the logic of absorption is
such that the more intense the sitters’ commitment to that process, the more
oblivious they necessarily are to the all-embracing network of family relationships’.46
Here the experience of absorption is tied to the fact of being seen in a way that
suggests not a feeling of interiority but an intense sense of concentration in externa-
lisation. Fried makes a similar convincing argument with regard to Dijkstra’s por-
traits that operate in the gap between intention and effect, between the subjects’
concentration on their external appearance and their concentration on the camera,
and what is revealed about them despite or because of their awareness. Fried’s
analysis is persuasive because, rather than extending anti-theatricality in an ahisto-
rical manner, he recognises the new historical conditions of posing and beholding.
It is clear that current photography no longer functions as a ‘theoretical object’
that in the context of postmodernism, as Krauss states, led to the eclipse of the idea of
the medium. Faced with photography’s obsolescence in the face of digital imagery,
Krauss and Fried seem to argue for opposed roles for contemporary photography.
Krauss argues that against the background of the ‘post-medium’ condition, ‘photo-
graphy functions against the grain of its earlier destruction of the medium, becoming
[. . .] a means of what has to be called an act of reinventing the medium’.47 Focusing
on the work of James Coleman, she shows that it is precisely because of its obsoles-
cence that photography can open ‘redemptive’ and imaginative capacities within the
technological support that will not function ‘as a revival of itself or indeed of any of
the former mediums of art, but of what Benjamin had earlier spoken of as the
necessary plurality of the arts’. Krauss thus remobilises the idea of the medium in
order to get away from any ‘unified idea of Art’.48 Fried, on the other hand, suggests
that contemporary photography proves (ontologically), yet again, his modernist idea
of medium specificity, understood now not in terms of empirical constraints but of
‘artistic intention’ and a general ahistorical notion of ‘pictorialism’. Photography
thus matters as art because it proves the values of high modernism and reclaims the
possibility of aesthetic autonomy. Yet, regardless of these differences, both still attach
the critical viability of photography to the idea of the medium, however modified
and revised. The question is whether this is a productive way to deal with the role of
photography in contemporary art, in which it is now more bound with what Jacques
Ranciere calls ‘the partition of the sensible’; that is, with problems of ‘truth’ and
‘fiction’ and with the opening of new horizons of intelligibility and visibility.49 The
question of the medium is only slightly relevant to these concerns because current
artistic practices, in their emphasis on the staging and enactment of events and
concern with activism, no longer operate under the premises of the ‘great divide’
between modernist and postmodernist theories of art and photography. In this
regard, it is not always clear whether Fried’s book presents an effort, by seriously
addressing photography and the idea of ‘to-be-seenness’, to move beyond the ‘great
divide’ or to further entrench it.
46 – Fried,Why Photography Matters, 202–3.
47 – See Rosalind Krauss, ‘Reinventing the
Medium’, Critical Inquiry 25 (Winter 1999),
296.
48 – Ibid., 305 (original emphasis).
49 – See Jacques Ranciere, The Politics of
Aesthetics, trans. Gabriel Rockhill, London
and New York: Continuum 2004. On the
significance of Ranciere’s work to recent
theoretisations of contemporary art, see
Artforum (March 2007), 252–85. See also
Vered Maimon, ‘The Third Citizen: On
Models of Criticality in Contemporary
Artistic Practices’, October 129 (Summer
2009), 85–112.
395
Michael Fried’s Modernist Theory of Photography
Dow
nloa
ded
by [
Uni
vers
ity o
f W
inds
or]
at 0
5:49
18
Aug
ust 2
014