Throughout Camera Lucida, Roland Barthes employs visual analysis in a deeply personal and novelistic style as he engages with the art of photography, exploring how visual images communicate messages to the viewer. Inserting himself into the text and usurping theory for intimacy, Barthes explores the essence and nature of photography while simultaneously constructing a eulogy, of sorts, for his late mother. Using his own emotions as an insight, Barthes constructs his analysis of photography by attempting to rediscover his late mother in a series of photographs. He does not want to simply recognise her within an image, rather he wishes to find her, to discover her essence. Barthes (1993) finds her in the Winter Garden Photograph, where the being he has loved “is not separated from itself: at last it coincides” (109). Thus his research into the nature of photography is presented as a process rather than a final product. Barthes (1993) presents a structure for the visual analysis of still images: identifying the studium and the punctum (26). The studium, Barthes (1993) explains, is the cultural, linguistic or political interpretation of an image, either simply received or enjoyed (26). The punctum, however, is the personal and poignant element of the image which disturbs the studium (27). Barthes (1993) exemplifies this structure through an analysis of Alexander Gardner’s 1865 ‘Portrait of Lewis Payne’ and explains that the studium is that the boy is handsome, while the punctum is the knowledge that he is going to die (96).
Barthes (1993) highlights what can be perceived as a difference between visual analysis and discourse analysis as he claims that “no writing can give me this certainty” (85). In essence, Barthes believes that no discourse could provide him with the same clarity that an image can. There is an element of undeniability when the researcher is faced with a visual depiction of an object, person or event – an element which can be questioned when it is presented through discourse. Barthes (1993) argues that the photograph is “never distinguished from its referent” (5). In effect, he is denying an explicit need for semiotics, presenting the photograph as a literal image of its referent. The photo ‘stands for’ exactly what is visible in the frame. When addressing other forms of visual material like a painting, for example, the same clarity outlined by Barthes may not be as easily accessible and a different approach to visual analysis may be necessary. A photograph is a depiction of what is truly there at the time it is taken, it is a “certificate of presence” (Barthes, 1993: 87). Although it is not black and white, a painting or a piece of discourse relies more upon the interpretation of the painter or the writer than the photograph relies upon the interpretation of the photographer, especially for a candid shot.
References:
Barthes, R. (1993) Camera Lucida: Reflections on Photography. London: Vintage.