Female Photographers

My interest in female photographers became slightly more apparent ever since the Frederick H. Evans project. Having that point as a juncture, I felt the need to revitalize my interests in photography. I was concerned, quite deeply with the lack of sensuality and affection that existed in most of my photographs (as of the time I wrote this).

Furthermore, I began to seek an interest in female photographers, both historically and also within the stages of our contemporary world.

A few female photographers that have had a pronounced effect on me are Harley Weir, Nan Goldin, Hiromix, Rinko Kawauchi, and Lina Scheynius. 

To start things off, I wanted to research more about Nan Goldin — a photographer whose creativity, tenderness and photographic gaze I look up to.

The Ballad of Sexual Dependency (Nan Goldin)

In this book, it is a curated photo book from the slideshow format Nan Goldin has utilized since her days in Boston. Coming from over 1000 slides, the photo book manages to squeeze a large number of profound imageries into approximately 70 pages. But yet what it cannot reveal is the fluidity as to how it was presented — the slideshow format. 

In the foreword by Guido Costa, Goldin’s images are not about the documentation of the times, her times. It is not about the documentation of the transvestites or the gay community blossoming in New York City. The Ballad of Sexual Dependency attempts to encapsulate her essences in life — the tenderness, loss, and death. It is a visual record, primarily meant for her but what is provokingly beautiful is the followed absence that we can feel, ’it is as if a small piece of our own past were falling back into place’.

To me, The Ballad is less so about the documentation of a lifestyle. It is a narrative of her lifestyle, recorded and carved in stone. Goldin says so herself, people mistake The Ballad as some kind of documentary about the 80’s, about the Gays, about LGBT in NYC. It was always been, about her life. To deny revisionism of her own life, as she tries to reclaim it from what she lost — her beloved elder sister. So maybe The Ballad tries to tell that, her emotions, or what emotions really are to her because, in the contemporary present context, nearly everyone in her images is no longer here. 

What interests me was that I found out there were many iterations of The Ballad. For each gallery, she would carefully curate the images and the accompanying soundtrack. Some would last for 30 minutes, some an hour. It depends. But the fluidity of it just works. 

What I like about Nan Goldin and how I can quite closely relate to her is the nature of the snapshot, that she is well known for. To her, quite simply put; it is about memories. About holding it, carving it in stone. As for the nature of the slideshow, it is about re-curating her own memories; the act and process of recalling without the destruction of any photographic honesty. Honesty, in this context — the story behind the images and the feeling of it.

 

Hiromix (Girls Blue etc.)

A Japanese photographer who rose to fame after winning the 10th Canon New Cosmos of Photography award. 

Submitted a 36-page photo diary of random snapshots; of her friends, herself, animals and streets. A diaristic storytelling that has no narrative per se. Almost images of themselves, leaving the viewer to subscribe into a particular narrative that they can only believe in.

Her following book, Girls Blue included images from the earlier photo diary. But at an even greater intense level, we see a further development of the diaristic, vernacular language that she attempts to convey. 

But I find the most convincing is the honesty of the entirety in this content. Arguably, she had curated the work seriously — images of her cool musician friends and her life are aspects she is aware of and what she honestly curates. Yet so amazing remains the energy that these photos attempt to convey. A young, pretty, Asian woman who bares herself open of her own life — in a possibly highly sexualized world. She sexualizes herself — her selfies, bottom-less images, semi-nudes forebodes the Instagram age. She becomes the object willingly, and only by doing so does she reclaim her photographic honesty.

It’s a female gaze thing. A female photographer asserting her own rights over her own body. The feeling is not simply raw — its tender, its fun but the best of it all? It is hers. And rightfully so.