On May 7th, 2011 a photograph sold at Christie’s auction for the sum of $3,890,500, making it the most valued photograph in history. The photograph was the 1981 untitled, self-portrait by photographer Cindy Sherman. In it the artist is seen lying on a tile floor, holding a torn page of newspaper, eyes dreaming out into the far left of the frame. The photograph is static. It is what it is. And the owner expects it to be. It is the receipt of a spent moment.
Shortly, the Lytro company will release the first light field camera for the consumer market. This technology allows a single image to capture a complete light field without focusing a lens or adjusting the diameter of the aperture stop. In other words, without limiting the specificity of the image, this camera allows one to record all light, traveling in every direction and from any point in a single click—11 million rays of light simultaneously. The image is stored in a digital file and can be downloaded by simply plugging the camera directly into a computer.
Once the image is downloaded it can be focused on any point within the frame. But not only that, the image can also be readjusted at any time by anyone indefinitely. The photograph is no longer one thing. It is now many things. The content is subject to the digression of the viewer. So you like the photograph because it is a picture of your grandfather but your neighbor likes it because it can also be a great capture of the Alamo . The family vacation photo on your refrigerator in which your brother-in-law is out of focus is the same family vacation photo that hangs on your sister’s refrigerator in which you are out of focus.
So what then is this new photograph? It is not only the Easter egg hunt in the foreground but it is every bit as much a picture of the nose-picker in the background. The instances of photobombs have just escalated. Tabloids, photojournalism, surveillance, all of these will be effected significantly once anything can be brought into focus. With the event of the digital camera the amateur and recreational photographer was given technology that superseded years of practice and experience. Then came Photoshop and with that the effected photograph became ubiquitous. Manipulated and downright invented—it is no longer possible to know whether or not an image is an accurate representation of reality.
We are headed somewhere. We can now completely adjust the depth of a photograph and although at the moment we are limited to only viewing the captured image two-dimensionally, surely it will not be long before the viewing technology catches up and we are able to view the full depth of the image at once. Three-dimensional televisions are already on the market. Then what is next? Where is this technology leading us? Left to right focus? Will we next be able to readjust the photo to show the subjects profile rather than their crooked smile? Are our memories too being readjusted? Will the fun and inspiration of the protest photos be reinterpreted years later when we refocus and notice the distain and hurt in the eyes of the onlookers rather than the smiles on our own faces?
How will we now value a 4D photograph? In everything, as limits increase; the value is decreased. The artist’s value is derived from their particular ability to create beauty within the confines of a particular medium. The painter uses only canvas, paint, and brush—the writer, pen and ink. The photographer was once confined to quantity of light and quality of focus. With the release of the light field camera the standard of both of those controls has been raised to 100%. What then does the photographer do? The subtlety has been removed. The beautiful attribute of the photograph is that it is dead. Or it was. It was a solid sculpture of time and light. The photograph, now easily manipulated, dynamic and obvious will it also be devalued monetarily are just devoid of aesthetic. The interesting and perhaps tragic fact is that in surveillance, tabloid, and the voyeur the value increases as the focal depth increases. So only the artist suffers. But anyway, isn’t that what the artist does best.
