Was sitting on a beach a some years ago. Summer friday, got out of work early, went there to take a late afternoon nap. Recall waking up and there was a couple taking photos with a photographer, presumably wedding shots. The photographer ushered them around, asking for different poses, filming at various angles, girl constantly adjusting her hair in the wind. All in all seemed like a mildly tortuous affair for the young lovers. Dawned on me at that moment that most photos are tricks of fakery, artificial distortions of reality.
I imagine the pictures would show a beautiful pair, gazing at each other as the sun drops and the waves crash behind them. The nearby surroundings, the obese yentas sitting not far to the left, stricken from the record. If the couple was truly brazen, maybe some retouching is done in post to smooth out small defects deemed undesirable. We're drawn to compelling photos in part due to this stylized reality that can only exist in the world of images.
Photos place emphasis on certain focal points. They present a segment of time, place, and subject. The photographer is the ultimate arbiter of what exists in this world. In the same way lighting and focus can be used to exalt, it can also denigrate. We've all seen photos taken at unflattering angles, photos that portray a city in a poor fashion, display people as uglier than they are.
The app BeReal briefly gained traction in a push back against the reality distortion frequently displayed in Instagram photos. The idea behind the app is to prompt users to take a photo everyday during a random interval. No filters are allowed and photos are mandated to be taken simultaneously with the front and back cameras. The app is mildly successful in cultivating a sense of authenticity, but frankly like the much of the 'real world' it's quite dull.
The most engaging images are usually produced with intent, as a viewer you want to have your perspective directed. Photos should inspire. A well produced photograph of a beautiful subject (be it of nature, of woman, of man, of architecture) is a comforting. It takes a frame of reality, sends it through the subtle distortion field of camera, and spits it out for people to enjoy.
AI Images
With the advancements in AI, we're starting to see many computer generated human portraits that are nearly indistinguishable from actual photos. Commenters on photos posted of women routinely ask if they are AI generated. A certain 'AI-paranoia' is beginning to set in, where an image can no longer be trusted to be rooted in the 'real world'.
To the extent that photo-realistic AI images are interesting, it's due to the technical novelty. That the production of machine can resemble the real thing is a neat trick. They'll never overtake real photography, because the appeal of photos is in the reality base layer. That you are looking at something that exists somewhere, someplace and is being shown to you in a stylized fashion.
People speculate about AI-women putting an end to the 'e-girl' phenomenon, that there will exist purely AI-generated OnlyFans accounts which men will flock to. I have my doubts about this. There's a certain voyeuristic thrill that people have about knowing the person being photographed exists. That you're peeking in on someone else's world. Only a small population of the truly deranged are going to lust for the pure fabrications of hellish computer algorithms.
In the event that AI is so advanced and pervasive that it becomes very difficult to distinguish real from fake, I imagine there will be efforts by real women to signal their authenticity.
"The Fine Outdoor Sport of Girl Watching..."
In 1973 Orson Welles released the film F for Fake, a head spinning love-letter to the power of deception. While the main focus of the documentary is on famed Picasso forger Elmyr de Hory, Welles intersperses commentary on the nature of magic tricks, authorship, and art. Highly recommend giving it a watch, you can find it in full on YouTube if you look hard enough.
The movie opens with a promise that "everything in the next hour is based on the available facts". The viewer is then shown footage of Welles' muse, Oja Kodar, walking around the streets of Rome edited together with shots of men turning their heads to take a look at her.
Oja disappears for the next hour, the story of Elmyr and his biographer Clifford Irving is told, and then Welles brings her out again. He starts narrating a tale of Oja encountering Picasso while they were both on vacation in the same village. Different footage rolls of Oja walking, while cut together with shots of Picasso “peering” through windows.
The story gets more and more fanciful. Oja is alleged to have seduced Picasso into painting 22 portraits of her. Her "Hungarian grandfather" is said to have also been a Picasso forger. As the implausibility mounts, Welles reveals the entire preceding 17 minutes were all a fabrication, a tale of fiction.
The thrill of the movie lies in the way it's edited and the story is told. It's an assault of quick cutting images and half-truths. You're taken for a ride that seems based in reality, but is shaped and forged by the director.
In closing Welles offers his reasoning to the viewer for his deceit:
"Reality? It’s the toothbrush waiting at home for you in its glass, a bus ticket, a paycheck, and the grave. What we professional liars hope to serve is truth. I’m afraid the pompous word for that is art. Picasso himself said it. Art, he said, is a lie, a lie that makes us realize the truth"
TTS wanted