“We were just ourselves that day, without a care. It was our good fortune that this moment in time is frozen in a box camera. It was our first real New York portrait” (110).
I started to think about photography as I read through the first half of “Hotel Chelsea.” The Robert on the page is not yet the Robert Mapplethorpe he will eventually become, the photographer whose portraits and work are both controversial and iconic, the photographer who will take the the photo that will become the cover of Horses. Patti’s and Robert’s evolution into the artists they will one day be is just beginning; she is starting to think about the connection between poetry and song, he is still looking for the perfect medium to create the images he sees in his head.
“I asked him why he just didn’t take his own pictures. ‘Oh it’s too much trouble,’ he’d say. ‘I can’t be bothered and the printing cost too much money.’” He had taken photographs at Pratt, but was too impatient with the time-consuming process of the darkroom” (124).
If you’ll forgive me for saying something obvious, the technology surrounding photography has changed since 1969. Most cell phones have cameras, some cell phones can take impressive and high quality photos. Through social media, online blogging and other sharing platforms, anyone can be a photographer. The tedious process in a darkroom is not longer necessary (though I know some people still prefer it). The taking of a photo, multiple photos, hundreds of photos and then sharing them can happen inexpensively and sometimes for free. People are able to express themselves, create a visual identity, and share how they see the world in an instant.
The widespread availability of this technology is great for poor artists, artists of color, and other groups who, maybe before this time, couldn’t get their hands on the technology or go to school to learn the technical aspects of the craft. I also think about young folks and how they can now use technology that might have been previously out of reach. I currently work for a youth mentoring organization and I see first hand the amazing things they create when given the right tools.
As I read I started to wonder what kind of work Robert Mapplethorpe would have made in the late 1960’s if this new technology would have been available to him. At the same time, I also thought about how the world can feel overly saturated with photographs. I go back to the quote at the beginning of this post and think about how special that first New York portrait is and what it represents. I have many pictures of my loved ones on my cell phone, yet none of them feel like they have the same weight as the picture Patti Smith describes. Despite this, I still believe that the widespread availability of creative technologies to not only take photographs, but also make movies and record music, allows a more diverse group of people to explore their creativity and document their memories.
If Mapplethorpe had had access to various types of technological innovations, he might’ve not become the great photographer he is known to be now. Early on he showed his impatience with taking his own photos, relying solely on buying expensive magazines that were cellophane-wrapped and could not be open in the store. I feel like through his continual struggle with finding the “right” photos for his artwork, he developed his own kind of style and goal for what he wanted to achieve, and if he’d had easy access to photographing he might’ve not been able to develop his style. For him, photography was not just capturing a specific moment and preserving it, as many of us casual photographers do. It was also capturing the essence of his subjects, and he seemed to be striving to find the right kinds of subjects and kinds of ways to really capture the essence of what he wanted. Needless to say, we’ll never know what would’ve happened if Mapplethorpe was in our time, but that’s just my feeling. This book never ceases to amaze with all the differences in culture and lifestyle back then and how particular aspects of the environment was able to give shape to Smith and Mapplethorpe’s careers, something that might not readily occur in our current New York community.
Because cameras are everywhere now, it seems that photographs really have lost a sense of significance. Smith’s and Mapplethorpe’s first portrait together was so significant because it was their first, and cameras were not readily available as they are right now. But they did take another picture later on, but Smith tells us that it got lost, which I can’t help but feel is very symbolic. Photos are meant to capture a moment in time, and the first portrait captured them when they were happy. The second one seemed to precede a slew of relatively unhappy events, as Mapplethorpe continually drifted away from Smith while developing his art. Why did the second one disappear? Maybe it was showing how that moment in the picture was to be forgotten in the midst of all other things. The first portrait stayed because it was symbolic of their close friendship and devotion to each other, and it had to be captured in that particular moment in the photo in New York.
Photos are truly amazing, but these days, with photographs flooding the internet and Photoshop, photography only seems to reflect the photographer’s desire to capture a moment in time rather than also trying to capture the essence of the subject and express something deeper, since the latter seems to be what differentiates professional, devoted photographers to casual, amateur ones posting pictures of every plate of food they eat or the frequent outings they go on.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot too and finding Robert’s attitude toward photography at once compelling in all the ways you’ve mentioned here and also rather contradictory. If we think about how long it takes him, as per Patti’s descriptions of his process, to finish a piece due to having to search out the pictures in vintage men’s magazines and experimenting with various color schemes, themes, and mediums then it makes little sense that he wouldn’t find photography attractive. Not to pretend to be any sort of expert but I took a photography class my junior year of high school and found the dark room to be exhilarating. Yes, there are classical modes to be thought through– lighting and placement, etc, cool. But you can push those boundaries in the contrast. You can make anything into anything just by getting the right angle. I think he’s missed out on a lot by postponing this transition and I can’t think of why he would until money is considered. I understand not having money to purchase a camera and use a darkroom (or buy the materials to create your own, it’s all expensive). I don’t understand his refusal. I’m about a quarter of the way into “Chelsea Hotel” at this point and I’m impatient. I read all of these descriptions about his genius, the brilliant ways he manipulates his materials and I have this distinct sensation that these two are moving at a pace not much suited to the modern pace.
On the other hand, photographs are everywhere, and I think it’s interesting that you mention that specific photograph as having so much weight. In a world that requires you to keep moving because everyone has access to you in 10,000 different ways, a photograph seems like it’s no matter a marker of a moment but a habitual action. But I disagree. The moment went by too fast, it wasn’t savored, it wasn’t really tasted and realized, so we take photographs like people used to write letters. So we can linger over them and tell our friends about something that seems hazy despite the evidence. It’s proof that you were where you said you were, that gives limited perspective because we only want to show everyone that it really happened. It’s just hard to find photographs that have a unique sense of perspective. Something we are primed as readers to understand that Robert has.
I hate to be emotional here but I’m angry that he’s being snobbish. It takes too much time. It’s too much money. It’s too much trouble. I think what he meant was that it wasn’t as gratifying as watching something come together continuously the way it has to with paint or pencils or that ridiculous chicken wire he was using for something or another. The thing is, it seems so absurdly obvious that it’s his thing. He mentioned earlier in the book that he spends most of his time trying to execute what was a snapshot of something perfect in his head. Duh, Robert. Duh.
Rant over.