When considering the homogenous blend of surface and image, it would be prudent to explore the possibility of a surface that allows the image it hosts to interact in some capacity with its environment and spectators. Two examples spring to mind when considering phenomena exhibited within a surface that allows its host image to be affected by its environment, these being Iridescence and the Mirror-Image. The Iridescence I will be discussing is based primarily on Tavi Meraud’s account of the optical effect in her 2015 essay “Iridescence, Intimacies” (Meraud, 2015), in which she describes the effect as an optical phenomenon both “visible on, visible in”(Meraud, 2015:1) a surface that reacts with its viewer; it “exists only insofar as it is seen”( Meraud, 2015:1). In a more formal description, it is defined as a “visual characteristic attributed to surfaces that change in colour with viewing angle” (Doucet, Meadows, 2009: 116). The iridescent surface is similar to the previous example of an image-bearing surface in that it too can be observed and an image be seen a direct consequence of this act; whereas the image in a static surface would remain unaffected by the concrete body of its spectator, the iridescent surface’s image reacts to the position of its viewer actively. The iridescent image is not one image but a spectrum of imagery that reveals facets of itself according to the position from which it is being observed and relative to the surface it resides in. The Iridescence itself is directly affected by the movement of its observer, moreover this affect the observer has on the iridescent image is a peculiar one, in that the change occurring is not one relative to the image of their body but of configurations inherent to that instance of iridescence. It could be said that this phenomenon acts as a private function of imagery rather than a public one, it hides its full range of imagery, revealing only a sliver at a time, yet it is still more open to interaction than the ‘standard’ image seen in that of an oil painting for example. Iridescence is inexorably tied to the observer, and more significantly the ability of this entity to move through a concrete environment, the virtual image and the concrete body exist in a distant embrace whilst never touching: the surface in this case acting as a mediator, a visiting centre, “a site of the rehearsal of the negotiations between the apparent and the real” (Meraud, 2015:3), it allows the two otherwise distinct states to exert influence upon one another, in other words, the concrete is capable of affecting the image through iridescence. She argues that Iridescence ushers in a “convergence of images with different degrees of reality into a single image” (Meraud, 2015:3), which Meraud expands further to include the screen, not “as mere instantiation of surface” (Meraud, 2015:3) but rather she begins to “consider the surface as screen” (Meraud, 2015:3). In this sense, the ‘ordinary’ surface begins to share much more in common with its iridescent cousin, the concrete and the image becomes more closely intertwined through the surface being considered at once material and immaterial, a site of interaction rather than a purely physical presence.
Touching the Surface: The first roadblock between us and the Image
The image as we perceive it exists alongside a surface, whether this be a layer as in Gilles Deleuze’s movement-image, as inherent to the surface’s physicality according to Robert Morris, or as a physical form interpreted as mental image as per Ludwig Wittgenstein. The surface is the domain within which the image resides, therefore, to access the image it can be assumed that the surface itself must be accessed, but how does one do this? Coming into direct contact with the surface seems logical at first, however upon touching it you are invited to examine the properties inherent to the surface as a tactile plane, but not the image. The skin is tuned to the language of texture and pressure, and the surface speaks in a manner more understandable to these senses than that of the image. The surface acts as host to the image and as such entertains the inquisitive touch, whilst the image, seemingly incapable of this communication, entertains the eyes instead. The surface and image act as a duality of sorts, symbiotically, as though the surface would remain purely tactile until given the visual language of its guest, the image, to communicate in a more complete fashion. This duality can be seen in the peculiar behaviour of light as described by quantum physicists: when left to its own affairs light will behave as a wave, with a wavelength, frequency, and no measurable mass, but when directly observed, this same light behaves as a stream of particles, with none of the wave’s properties and possessing mass that the wave does not. The surface and image can be argued to act in a similar duality as this example: if the image is the coy wave-like form of light, existing without physicality while left untouched by concrete notions, then the surface is the mass-bearing particle that appears when the observer attempts to initiate direct contact with the image. This comparison may provide us by providing an alternative to the simple division between surface and image, rather than naturally separate phenomena they can be viewed as a symbiotic pair, dependent on each other for observable concrete forms to exist.
If the image and surface guard each other thus, is the image entirely immune to interaction in its host body? If by interaction we mean affecting the image directly, then perhaps physically altering the surface would be an adequate solution to the withdrawn image. If one were to take an oil painting for example, and to slash it diagonally from one corner to the other, the surface would have undergone a change, its fibres split and spread apart so that the fabric’s tension would be redistributed among its mass. The surface has experienced change and thus the image it hosts will appear to have experienced a change parallel to that of the surface. Every element of the visual experience one would expect of the original image on the original surface will have been altered, as would the physical experience if one were to touch the surface, the texture would appear different and the image would elude the touch as it did before. Take Diego Velázquez’s Rokeby Venus for example, on the 10th March, 1914 Mary Richardson entered the Nation Gallery in London and slashed the canvas of Velasquez’s Rokeby Venus multiple times in protest of the recent arrest of Suffragette leader Mrs. Emmeline Pankhurst; in this instance Richardson had altered the form of the painting, the surface had been torn and the image disrupted, the symbols behind the image were intentionally mangled, yet the image itself is still clearly recognisable. Therefore can it be argued that Richardson interacted directly with the image, its symbols and it’s appearance were engaged with by Richardson’s act (the painting was subject to extensive restoration processes in order to return the surface to a state similar to its original one), however this can be countered by the notion that this act ultimately disrupted the image, but did not directly interact with it outside of the brief moment during which wrist pushed on steel, splitting thread and pigment apart, with the image retreating from the hand as quickly as the hand retreats from the disrupted surface. This alteration has changed the image, however interacting with the image involved a disruption of the surface to which is connected. The surface is breached, therefore the image in, on, or around it, is breached in tandem. This method of interaction is limited to the moment of affect, the active spectator having affected the form will now no longer be capable of observing the original form, nor interact with it, thus creating a unique paradox in which to directly interact with or affect the image through the surface, the active-spectator is required to change it, to transform it, into a more malleable form, a form that no longer resembles the image with which they initially yearned to interact with. Even outside of an ontological reading of this event, every thread ruptured by Richardson added to the history of the canvas, irreversibly changing its form and context: when a guide describes the Rokeby Venus, the event of creation and its context are of almost equal importance in their description as Mary Richardson’s attack on this very context, becoming a painting with significance in the history of feminism, not through its creator’s intent, but through an act performed after the fact; this could be used to argue that Richardson has become the author of a new oeuvre in her action towards the canvas, which further adds credibility to the notion that to affect an image, one must irreversibly alter it, thus leading to an interaction that never was, an image-centric Midas touch of sorts.
The Poor Image, according to Hito Steyerl
Despite the discourse surrounding it, the photographic process, although still used in certain contexts, is no longer the primary method of image-centric communication that it was leading up to the dawn of the digital image; the restrictions of size, format, colour palette, and physicality that ruled the Analog photograph become irrelevant when one considers that this image can be created without requiring the same intricate series of processes for it to be turned from semi-tangible impression on film to visible image. The digital image, as opposed to the photographic image, is composed not of visual information, but of raw data, information requiring a compatible digital system in order to convert it from a mass of code (pure language) into legible instructions for a monitor to activate in such a way that an image becomes visible. The intact digital image, however, is not a prime example of our topic when referring to a one way interaction (its mutual affective qualities will make it relevant in other instances however), it is the worn out or ‘poor’ image, that is of particular relevance to an image suffering interaction. The ‘Poor Image’ as described by Hito Steyerl is an image that, through its digital format, “has been uploaded, downloaded, shared, reformatted, and reedited”(Steyerl, 2009) its nature of affectivity shares parallels with the digital image’s mutual affectivity, but suffers the brunt of the affect in this case, by being shared ad infinitum, “Poor images are poor because they are heavily compressed and travel quickly, they lose matter and gain speed” (Steyerl, 2009), and this reference to a loss of matter is fundamental to the affective relationship shared between the poor image and its many observers. The Poor image exists due to a need to be seen, if one individual wishes for an image to be seen by another, then the digital mediums through which they communicate allow an aspect of this image to be relayed between them, but in doing so elements of this image are lost in translation, not dissimilar to a sentence translated via google translate backwards and forwards until the original information is no longer complete; our desire to view this image requires is dispersion, and its dispersion inevitably leads to a loss of small chunks of information (maybe only a byte of two), it has been directly affected by our desire to view it, and thus the observer has enacted change directly to the information constituting the image rather than the surface on which it is presented.
The Affective Physicality of the Photographic Process
The touch when related to an image is a peculiar affair: the two phenomena seem to communicate using languages incompatible to one another, yet in certain instances a translation can occur, allowing for the image to be manipulated manually. A prime example of the image being brought within spitting distance of the hand exists in the photographic process, more specifically the steps between the enlargement of the photographic image to its fixing. This process is performed (especially in the case of black and white prints) for the most part by hand, involving the transfer of the image from a transparent negative onto a photosensitive surface, which must then be developed for the image to become visible. The developed image then requires stopping and fixing which are less relevant to the discussion but still involve an active affect from the observer upon the image being manipulated. The moment the shutter first opens to expose the film, the image is transformed from event to trace, this trace-image exists because of an affect performed onto the molecules of the film it exists within, the image is intricately linked to its surface media, and in fact would be erased entirely should the film be exposed to many more images before being developed. A media that relies on its experience of affect, such as that of the photosensitive film and paper, displays an openness towards the affective that permits a closer relationship with the concrete by virtue of the image being given tangible form in the surface’s topography. The image and the photographic film exist in symbiosis, imagery given physicality in the surface of the film therefore providing utility and meaning to the what is otherwise a piece of plastic that turns opaque under light. Since the image is so deeply ingrained into the structure of the photographic film, this notion can be further expanded to suggest a physical interaction when the image is transferred from developed film to photographic paper when attempting to create a print. In parallel events, the light through the lens of a camera affects the surface of unexposed film, before later an artificial light is shone through the developed film affects the surface of photosensitive paper, in both cases1 the surface performs the function of recording an image due to its sensitivity to light: the area affected by the light retains this imprint, the crystals of Silver Halide in the surface becoming excited by photons. When developed, the affected surface darkens whilst the unaffected area stays transparent: the entire mechanism of the photographic image in this instance is reliant on a system of affect and non-affect, highlighting the photographic process as an instance of direct interaction with the image, even if the hand plays second fiddle to light and optics for the most part. Throughout the entire photographic process, each component behaves as if moulding and casting, using the light to create to create a negative impression of physical space on an equally tangible and affect-ready surface in the film, once this impression is set in the film through development, it is used to create a positive in the photographic paper; these processes are all too tangible, despite wearing its virtual relationship to space on its sleeve, photography is all too connected to the real, the film negative (not unlike the screen in Tavi Meraud’s writing) becomes yet another mediator between the tangible Real, and distant Virtual.
1 This example is based on the development and photographic process surrounding monochrome film and prints, in colour film and printing the affect of light is more complex than ‘affected and unaffected’ areas of the surface.