“…the book creates meaning, the meaning creates life.”
― Roland Barthes, The Pleasure of the Text
by Suzanne Révy
It was forty years ago this month that Roland Barthes’ paean to photography, death and his beloved mother was published in his small book, “Camera Lucida.” In it, he describes a picture of his mother as a child sitting in a winter garden. He discovered the snapshot shortly after she died, leaving him bereft at her loss, but grateful for her life. The book is illustrated with several photographs, but the picture of his mother is not included. Like the mystery of this missing photograph, Barthes’ intimate book draws readers in, coaxing them to revisit and respond over time. Now, Odette England has done just that by inviting two hundred photographers to interpret Barthes’ writing and the unseen photograph for “The Winter Garden Project,” which has just been published in a book called, “Keepers of the Hearth: Picturing Roland Barthes’ Unseen Photograph” (Schilt Publishing, 2020).
It may seem funny that a French scholar of semiotics managed to pen such an important treatise on the nature of photography that it has become required reading for students of photography. He opens “Camera Lucida” by expressing his amazement at seeing “the eyes that looked at the Emperor” when he came across a portrait of Napoleon’s youngest brother, Jerome. He quickly realizes that this amazement is a solitary one, when he finds no one else to share it. I would suggest, however, that had he been addressing photographers, he may well have received a far more potent response! Would the portrait of Jerome hold the same fascination had French history been different? As times change, pictures take on new and sometimes unintended meanings. “Keepers of the Hearth” offers readers an opportunity to reflect on the legacy of “Camera Lucida” and the ever changing nature of photography.
The book begins quietly with the reproduction of a type 55 Polaroid negative featuring a dog by Guy Archard that feels like a faint palimpsest. Although the book is large, the journey readers take through its pages retains a dreamy aura, owing in part to the mindful placement of white space between pictures. It is punctuated with lightweight interleaving pages that include the book’s several essays alongside images that can be seen partially from both sides of the page. The selection includes vernacular snapshots, winter landscapes, compelling portraits and the occasional “mistake.” Many images are mysterious and abstract, others are more direct, but all offer fresh meaning to Barthes’ words and underscore the eternal attributes of pictures.
Alec Soth’s large format black and white portrait of his mother includes a salon style wall of family pictures in the background, and a short caption reveals the lower left snapshot is the photographer as a young boy. He writes, “that boy and the way he looks at his mother are pretty much the same” twenty years later. There is no date, but the reader might wonder how the meaning of this picture will change again in another twenty years. Rosalind Fox Solomon’s flattened dress on a sunny beach implores the reader to imagine the story of an unseen young girl. Thus, unique moments are translated from traces of light and shadow into the essence of existence beyond our physical presence. “Keeper of the Hearth” is filled with deeply felt imagery, skillfully sequenced to transport readers into serene meditations.
Essays by Douglas Nickel, Lucy Gallun and Philip Prodger, along with shorter pieces and correspondence from several of the photographers, offer insights to Barthes’ seminal essay and, indeed, into the medium itself. A few question whether photography retains its status as a reliquary for the past in this age of Instagram. Will the loss of physical prints found in shoeboxes in our grandparents’ attics change our relationship to the past? Will digital streams be archived in some unforeseen way so that we might forage our familial roots? I do not know the answer, but the ethos of the book, dare I say… its “punctum” insists that contemporary photography is thriving and it continues to enhance emotional connections between the past, present and future. Each fleeting moment captured on light sensitive material, whether art or accident, has the capacity to move us to inexpressible wonder.
Keeper of the Hearth: Picturing Roland Barthes’ Unseen Photograph edited by Odette England and published by Schilt Publishing. For more information go to: https://www.schiltpublishing.com/shop/books/new-releases/keeper-of-the-hearth/