Reading Images

1. Reading Images The Grammar of Visual Design by Gunther Kress and Theo van Leeuwen (2nd Edition, Routledge 2006)

2. Reading Images Modality:designing models of reality • A certain standard of photographic naturalism … has become the yardstick for what is perceived as ‘real’ in images, even when these images are not photographs. Underpinning this is the belief in the objectivity of photographic vision, a belief in photography as capable of capturing reality as it is, unadulterated by human interpretation. Behind this, in turn, is the primacy which is accorded to visual perception in our culture generally. Seeing has, in our culture, become synonymous with understanding. We ‘look’ at a problem. We ‘see’ the point. … We ‘focus’ on an issue. We ‘see things in perspective’. The world ‘as we see it’ (rather than ‘as we know it’, and certainly not ‘as we hear it’ or ‘as we feel it’) has become the measure for what is ‘real’ and ‘true’. Kress & van Leeuwen: 163

3. Reading Images Modality:designing models of reality • So visual modality rests on culturally and historically determined standards of what is real and what is not, and not on the objective correspondence of the visual image to a reality defined in some ways independently of it. Kress & van Leeuwen: 163

4. Reading Images

5. Reading Images Representation and interaction: designing the position of the viewer • On the one hand, it showed his parents turning their back on him, walking away from him (a reversal, of course, of the actual situation); on the other hand, it showed this gesture of ‘turning one’s back’, in a sense, ‘frontally’, in a maximally ‘confronting’ way. But to expose one’s back to someone is also to make oneself vulnerable, and this implies a measure of trust, despite the abandonment which the gesture also signifies. Kress & van Leeuwen: 138

6. Reading Images multimodal intertextuality • Through the window he sees them walk away. ‘How much I love that man’, he thinks, and how impossible he has made it for me to express that.... His mother has linked arms with him. With hesitant steps she walks beside him on the frozen pavement. He keeps looking at them until they turn the corner, near the tall feathered poplars. Jan Wolkers, Een Roos van Vlees,1965: 61

7. Reading Images Interactive meanings in images

8. Reading Images REALIZATIONS

9. Reading Images Two portraits Demand Social Detachment Viewer power Represented participant power gaze at the viewer medium shot oblique angle high angle [Rembrandt] low angle [Saskia] Self-portrait with Saskia (Rembrandt, 1634) (Pinakotek, Dresden)

10. Reading Images Two portraits Demand Intimate / personal Involvement Equality gaze at the viewer close shot frontal angle eye-level angle Self-portrait (Rembrandt, 1661) (Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna)

11. medium shot social Offer (indirect gaze) ‘non-transactive reaction’ frontal angle involvement long shot impersonal Offer (indirect gaze) ‘transactive reaction’ oblique angle detachment Reading Images Representational and interactive relations in a movie still Harriet Andersson and Lars Passgard in Through a Glass Darkly (Bergman, 1960)

12. Reading Images Have any of the meanings of this image changed?

13. framing Reading Images The meaning of composition ideal zone of ‘heaven’ Right new Most salient - foreground, size, focus, light Left given real zone of ‘earth’

14. Reading Images The meaning of composition Composition relates the representational and interactive meanings of the image to each other through three interrelated systems: • Information value. The placement of elements endows them with the specific informational values attached to the various 'zones' of the image: left and right, top and bottom, centre and margin. • Salience. The elements are made to attract the viewer's attention to different degrees, as realized by such factors as placement in the foreground or background, relative size, contrasts in tonal value (or colour), differences in sharpness, etc. • Framing. The presence or absence of framing devices (realized by elements which create dividing lines, or by actual frame lines) disconnects or connects elements of the image, signifying that they belong or do not belong together in some sense.

15. Captioning and Capturing the Past Writing photo captions to develop personal memoir Robert Root, Department of English, Central Michigan University <http:www.chsbs.cmich.edu/Robert_Root>

16. This task aims to make you: • a better reader of images • a better user of images as writing resources

17. This task asks you to: • draw upon images that you have stored in your minds, stuffed in wallets, and tacked on pin boards or fridges in order to • trigger memory, • develop description, • spark reflection.

18. To help you capture the past… ‘caption’ images that open windows into the past. The Earl of Ilchester’s library, 1941

19. Detailed close description brings much more than appearances to the surface: • Context – the surrounding circumstances of a picture • Perspective – from the objectivity of looking back into the past, exploring different points of view • Meaning – underlying ideas, emotions and themes arise from the work of expression

20. On "Italian soldier after end of fighting, Sicily, 1943" by Robert Capa • The hot Mediterranean landscape. Dust on the bicycle tires. Sun on her tanned arms. Their shadows mingling. The sizzle of cicadas, the slow whir of the bicycle. The photograph would be diminished without that bicycle; it would be ruined without her long hair.  Her hair tells us: This is how she was when he left; she has not changed; she has remained true to him.  She asks about the things that have happened to him; he is hesitant at first, but there is no hurry.  Eventually, he tells her of the friends he has lost, the terrible things he has seen.  He is impatient for news of friends and relatives back in their village.  She tells about her brother who was also in the army, about the funny thing that happened with the schoolteacher and the butcher's dog. Geoff Dyer Civilization (October/November 1997): p.100

21. On a photograph of her mother and herself, 1941 • My 27-year-old father, Frederic Oates, "Freddy," taking snapshots of my mother and me on this sunny afternoon, is worried about being drafted into the army; in the meantime he's working at Harrison Radiator, a division of General Motors in Lockport, New York, involved in what is unofficially believed to be “defence work” (airplanes).  It's a tense, unpredictable era in our history, yet such global turbulence is remote from the grassy backyard of our family home in Millersport, New York; here is a leafy, spacious world, in which my 24-year-old mother, Carolina, and I, an inquisitive child of three years 11 months, appear to be playing with new-born kittens.  How happy we must have seemed to that long-lost "Joyce Carol," with little more vexing in her life than the ordeal of having curly hair combed free of snarls and prettily fixed with a ribbon, and being "dressed up" for some adult special occasion. . . . Memory is our domestic form of time travel.  The invention of photography – in particular, the “snapshot” – revolutionized human consciousness, for when we claim to “remember” our pasts, we are surely remembering our favourite snapshots, in which the long-faded past is given a distinct visual immortality.  Just as art provides answers long before we understand the questions, so, too, our relationship with our distant past, in particular our relationship with our parents, is a phenomenon we come to realize only by degrees, as we too age, across the mysterious abyss of time. Joyce Carol Oates "Caption," Civilization (February/March 1997): p.96

22. Vivir Para Contarla* • By ‘captioning’ the images of your life, you can develop strategies that will help you to capture – and write – your past • Living to Tell the Tale – title of the Nobel Prize winning Colombian author Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s memoir

23. On a photograph of his wife and daughters, Darwin, November 1996 • Having dragged my young family over 2,000 km into the tropical north to pursue a teaching career, I tried to capture an ephemeral moment of simple pleasure. Eleanor aged 6½ and Philomena aged 2½, read over their mother’s shoulder a book on fancy dress. The scene has curiously personal reverberations of childhood innocence. The dining table setting of a pyramid of oranges, de rigueur in Mary’s home economy of fresh fruit, her red stripped house dress and even her broad lensed glasses, all echo the primary colours of 1970’s fashion that adorn the book they read. These are the same colours I remember my mother wearing in her house full of men. With four sons and not a single daughter, she had no opportunity to share such feminine maternal moments. November begins the nightmarish ‘build-up’ in Darwin that precedes the sanity saving release of the Wet, three hellish months later. They look oblivious to such seasonal torment, despite their inevitable sheen of sweat: Eleanor’s sweetly precocious pose of seriously amused contemplation on one side; Philomena’s unconstrained laughter on the right. Fancy dress in a tropical climate suggests to me the colonial madness of our British forebears. Was this some mad dream I had, dragging my wife kicking and screaming to paradise? Was I repeating my own parents’ doomed exodus away from family in Adelaide? My daughters appear oblivious to such tensions between past and future, climate and place. Their joy in the moment is far more precious to me than any possible answer to such questions. Jonathan Scobie

24. On a photograph of his mother and son, Christmas 2004 • Aidan at five and my mother at seventy five seem to epitomise the spirit of Christmas. While her Alzheimer's does not appear in the photograph, there is an irony in her being there at all. If her memory were intact, she would have no doubt clung to the same old disgruntled disappointments that kept her absent from so many of my children’s Christmases past. Aidan plays the wise Fool in cap and grin. What is my mother’s role? A Mrs Scrooge with another Tiny Tim? After the three ghosts of Christmas, what visitations remain to haunt her decaying remembrance? Jonathan Scobie

25. A student writer’s example: • First response: • "It is a picture from my childhood. I was probably about three, maybe four. I am lying in my pyjamas fast asleep in a dresser drawer." • Journal entry: • The student now includes the picture’s date of February 1983, when she was "a month shy of age three."  She writes, "I am wearing floral printed pyjamas.  These pyjamas were most likely created by my grandmother, like many of my childhood clothes were. The dresser I am sleeping in was made from Grandfather's own crafty hands."  • These are good details, which emerge from the student trying to write about what she sees. They aren't part of the earlier response, which is acceptably vague and brief.

26. A student writer’s example: • In the journal entry she writes, "I am huddled up in the foetal position cuddling with my favourite blanket."  She remembers that she called the blanket her Binky and that she was eight or nine before her mother made her give it up.  Then her description of herself reveals the underlying reason this picture has meaning for her…

27. A student writer’s example: • I am in a peaceful slumber.  I am in my own childlike cocoon.  Sometimes I wish I could go back to my childlike cocoon.  My mother once told me that on that day she had thought she lost me.  She searched the whole house up and down screaming my name aloud.  I of course had blocked out the confusion around me.  Now I realize it's time for me to wake up from my cocoon and face the confusion head on.

28. In the remainder of the journal entry… • she talks about trying to "slowly and carefully break away from the shelters my parents have put around me," how she rose above the barriers in adolescence and was gently guided back to shelter.  She concludes, • I am beginning to wake from peaceful slumber and realize it's time to grow up and face reality.  It's time for me to give up the cosy comfort of 'Binky' and break away from the enclosing shelter of the drawer.  • As a First Year University student living away from home in college, she uses her analysis of this photograph to get at both why she treasures the picture and how it connects to deep-seated and important issues for her, about separation, about independence, about the difference between being nurtured and being constrained.

29. A caption journal entry gives you: • freedom to explore your photos in your own ways • an opportunity to share experiences and ideas as a class • preparation for the first summative Text Production task – a fully developed personal essay

30. Memoir models • Jeri Kroll’s memoir of her mother in ‘Metaphorical Life Studies’ • Exercise 5: Memoir, from The Mother Workshops and other poems, Five Islands Press, Wollongong University, 2004

31. Memoir models After my mother’s death, my sister and I came across two small statues — gold plastic, with little labels pasted on the front. She had only won them a few years earlier. I took the statue that said Senior Citizen 1st Place Charleston. It weighed so little and the sticky tape holding the label was peeling off. At the end, she weighed less than a healthy ten-year-old, less than I probably did when I used to dance with her. Her bones were hollow, but they still longed to dance. After breaking both hips, she was stiff and awkward. Yet music would still transform her, as if someone with a remote control in another room demanded that she rise and sway. And on those days when she felt too weak or dizzy to stand, she would hand dance to Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett or Perry Como, whatever old record we could find, even the newcomer, Barbara Streisand — her swollen fingers making graceful patterns in front of her face, keeping perfect time with the music. She would sit for an hour, never tiring, her hands using the air as a stage. She was dancing, she was living.