Sylvie M - May 23

The evolution of portraits

Full or half-length, well posed paintings, with the finest clothes and carefully displayed symbolic items. At first glance the visitors would know the rank and occupation of the portrayed subject.

Black and white, card-size photographs. Stiff and serious with a support to hold the head and prevent any movement. Breathing was to be avoided. Smiling was not appropriate. Having one’s portrait taken was a must.

Polaroid colour snapshots with spontaneous scenes. Holiday at the seashore. Picnic in a park. Children running and hairstyles with no style. Photos that would tend to fade out with time, but great little presents to be given out as soon as they were dry.

Numeric photos on a smartphone. Really need to show the entire world what is on your plate? Just the pleasure of spying? or building up proofs “just in case”? Of course still some nice portraits, but they are locked inside the phone or the computer. Need to flick on and on and make sure not to press ‘erase’ by mistake.

The 2.0 photographers have learnt how to add filters, modify a figure, smoothen a complexion. Between slight cheating and white lie.

A.I. can now add a faux background, process fake photos, create false evidence. All of it posted worldwide within seconds. Between false testimony and slender.

The tin box

We found the old biscuit tin box behind a row of books, packed with photographs. Most of them are B&W. I vaguely remember having looked at them when I was a child.

At that time, I probably had comments on who these people were. Names, nicknames, family links. Vivid memories for my grandmother, quite clear for my parents.

But nobody cared about writing names or dates at the back of the photos. Now many of them are anonymous. I know they are my relatives, but I don’t even know their names. I try very hard to chase any family resemblance, to spot details in the background. My mother is holding a baby in a garden. I hardly recognize my mum, I think this baby is me. A smiling young woman is wearing a Summer dress I have seen in the past. Strange that I remember the dress and not the woman.

Photographs are said to be permanent testimonies. Those from the bin box are heartbreaking prints of forever young strangers.

Napoleon III painted by
Franz Xaver Winterhalter 1853

Napoleon III photographed by

Mayer & Pierson c1860

Fake picture produced in 2023, so realistic!

The art of capturing memories

By Michael Ranjitsingh

One day as I whipped my camera out,
To capture an image of the wee little sprout;
Rose turned to me with eyes open wide,
“Why do you keep taking photos?” she cried.

Is it for the fame that the photos bring?
Or to capture the faces as the wedding bells ring?
Is it for the ‘likes’ on Flickr and Facebook?
Or is it to create a photography book?

I thought to myself about the emotions I felt,
As with eager anticipation I patiently knelt;
Waiting for the moment to open the shutter,
Completely present, ignoring my heart’s flutter.

A photograph is a precious piece of art,
That can touch deep into the crevices of a human heart.
Its value is not judged by the amount its worth,
But the emotions evoked whether sadness or mirth.

A photograph captures a moment in time,
Of sunsets and smiles and food at lunchtime.
It can show both the atrocities and horrors of war,
And the peaceful calmness of the waves on the shore.

Life passes by in the blink of an eye,
And before you know it it’s time to say goodbye.
But underneath the cupboard, the photos remain;
Telling stories of a time you could relive again.

https://medium.com/blueinsight/the-power-of-a-photograph-95b81cc5a2a5