The selfie is more popular than ever, but it is hardly a new phenomenon. Rembrandt painted self portraits in the 1660s “to keep himself busy in between commissions and because of his ongoing fascination with the aging process,” says Nigel Hurst, CEO of the Saatchi Gallery, in London.
The first known photographic selfie was taken by American photographer Robert Cornelius in 1839. Although selfies were popular with photographers and artists throughout the twentieth century, they didn’t become mainstream until the invention of the smart phone. In 2010, a front-facing camera was built into the iPhone 4. By 2013, the word selfie was so popular, it was included in the Oxford English dictionary.
My interest in self portraits started in the late ’70s when I got my first camera. I had been fascinated by some fantastic self portraits Lee Friedlander took in the 1960s. These were far from the typical smiling, head-and-shoulders shots with a famous landmark in the background. Friedlander appeared as a shadow, or as reflection in mirrors or windows. There was a deadpan sense of humour in the photos that attracted me. Over the years I’ve taken many of those, most often trying to emulate that quirky sense of humour I admired in Friedlander’s shots.
Taking a selfie can wake up plenty of the uneasiness that can be stirred when others are photographing us–that feeling of whether we look good enough, whether we’re aging well, whether we’re fashionable or geeky or cool. As a father of two teenage daughters (as well as the partner of a woman I’ve been married to for more than twenty years), I’m keenly aware of how remorselessly photography tracks our aging selves. In a society that persistently judges and comments on women’s looks, perhaps it’s helpful for girls and women to grab the camera back and be in charge of it.
One of my daughters takes dozens of selfies; the other takes very few. My wife puts up with being photographed, but she’s nowhere near as comfortable with it as I am. I think it would be a mistake to read much into these habits. For instance, is the daughter who photographs herself vain, and the other one modest or self-conscious? I see no evidence of that. I like being in my photos, but do I think I’m better-looking than my wife thinks she is? Does she feel less attractive than I do? Possibly not. (Both of us are ordinary-looking people, neither splendid nor ugly, now in our fifties and thus pretty much invisible to society at large.)
Like a mirror, a camera is one more way we can engage with ourselves. The surface is only a tiny bit of who we are–but it’s the only part of us the world can truly see. Who is this person, out walking around in the world, with a head stuffed full of unique thoughts and ideas? A camera can be a doorway though which you get outside yourself–a rare and valuable thing.
Czech Republic photographer Pavel Pětroš documents suburban and industrial areas near his home. His strong use of colour, line, and graphic elements make his photographs memorable and give them a strong sense of place. He finds beauty in the everyday world giving a sense of nobility to neglected areas. Be sure to check out his website and Tumblr for more photos.
I asked him eight questions about his work and his current projects. Our online conversation has been lightly edited for clarity.
Tell me a little about yourself. Where are you from, and where do you live now?
I come from the Czech Republic. I live near the border of Slovakia and Poland in the industrial region. I have always lived in this region since I was born.
You have been blogging for some time now. Is a blog important for articulating your thoughts?
I used to blog to write and post my photos. Now, I am posting only photos. I use it just as a photo sharing platform.
Who or what inspires you?
I am inspired by my surroundings. I work in Ostrava city. This is where I take most of my photos. When I travel, I photograph what I see around me. What attracts me.
What’s your state of mind when you’re taking good photos? Do you think there’s any connection between your mood or mindset and the results you get?
My mind set always same. It is that feeling that I need to photograph.
Can you tell me a bit about your exhibition “No Constructive Conclusions”?
There is a little backstory. I got to know Piotr Kaczmarek through Flickr. Last year Piotr suggested having a joint exhibition in AMI gallery in Wroclaw, together with Wojtek Mszyca (Poland) and Ian Nutt (UK). I knew Wojtek from Flickr, too. We met once in Katowice where we were photographing together. Based on this, we decided to show our photos from this location in the exhibition. Ian also knows Wojtek and was shooting in the area, too. Later, this exhibition moved to Frydek-Mistek (Czech Republic), where it is displayed until the end of June 2017. Perhaps, if it works out, the show will move to UK later. Regarding the name of the show, we just didn’t have anything constructive. No constructive conclusion was made.
Many thanks to Pavel for doing this interview. I’m so appreciative of his thoughtful answers that provide insight into his work. Be sure to check out his work on his website and on Tumblr.
I recently watched Don’t Blink, a fascinating documentary on the life and work of photographer Robert Frank. Now 92, Frank is considered, by many, one of the greatest living photographers—and seeing this documentary reminded me that his ground-breaking photographs from The Americans are still relevant, nearly sixty years after publication.
It occurs to me now watching Don’t Blink that it is the emotional impact of his work that makes it special. His documentary photos from the 50s seem timeless, especially since the same social and racial issues he exposed then are still seen today.
Robert Frank was one of my earliest influences when I first discovered photography. I was struck by his photos’ emotional impact, their grittiness, their raw power.
In Don’t Blink, Frank is asked, “What makes a picture good?” He replies, “Mostly I get people when they are not aware of the camera. And usually the first picture was the best one. Once someone is aware of the camera it becomes a different picture; people change.” For him, art is a spontaneous and free-flowing process. It’s something we can apply in today’s digital world, where imaging making has become more glossy and contrived. It makes me want to take photos with my gut—pictures that have emotional impact.
If you have not seen Don’t Blink, TVO (TVOntario) is streaming the film for free until July 9 at the link below. I highly recommend it.
