Wednesday, January 2, 2008

What’s So Funny About Paws, Claws, and Anthropomorphism?

It is only when we get close to animals, and examine them with open minds, that we are likely to glimpse the being within.

-Jonathan Balcombe, Pleasurable Kingdom



From Eadweard Muybridge’s photographs of Bison and Horses to William Wegman’s endless series of his Weimaraners as actors on a stage, animals have held a storied place in photography. They have been dissected, preened, propped, posed and paraded before the camera for our entertainment and education. Three relatively recent photo books are further proof that photographers love the furry and scaly and in the end each of these books provide a small glimpse within ourselves and our relationships to the “lesser species.”




Jill Greenberg’s Monkey Portraits (Bulfinch, 2006) gives us a glimpse of our simian cousins acting out the most human of expressions: anger, fear, confusion, repulsion, et al. Of the over 70 images presented in the book, not one is a “straight shot” of a monkey or ape. Each photograph (made in Greenberg’s signature style) is carefully coaxed and manipulated so that the viewer always sees a bit of him or herself in the Monkey/Ape. The animals photographed are gorgeously groomed (in fact each animal is a trained actor ape/monkey), professionally posed and seem to be acting out very specific roles for the photographer. The range of emotions depicted by these celebrity monkeys runs the gamut and makes for some wildly entertaining viewing (Monkeys is a great book for cocktail parties). However, the sameness in the image-making and lack of creativity in the book’s layout becomes a bit distracting and I have a hard time seeing beyond the humor. The publisher’s hope that, “these monkeys in all their glory will cause you to laugh out loud and to wonder just how different we truly are,” falls just shy of the mark.




In American Cockroach (Aperture, 2005), Catherine Chalmers presents that most misunderstood of all domestic pests, the cockroach, not as stand-ins for humans, but as the sole inhabitants of a Laurie Simmons-esque world. The book is divided into three distinct chapters: Residents, Impostors and Executions; each chapter is a wonderfully absurdist study in photographic theatricality. In Residents the roaches live, work, have sex and give birth in tiny living quarters that aren’t so much miniature reproductions of human spaces as they are pop culture archetypes derived equally from art museums and DWR furniture catalogs. The Cockroach residents frolic in the light, drink out of tubs and molt next to a “Twombly.” The Chapter Impostors has the cockroaches camouflaged in a technicolor ecosystem, hidden amongst flowers and plants. The little creatures are cleverly dressed and painted to match their surroundings, hiding in plain sight rather than under refrigerators and cardboard boxes. In the final chapter, the animals are depicted being gassed, electrocuted, hanged and drowned. While many of us might relish in the idea of torturing cockroaches, the images in this chapter are very disheartening and probably the most humanizing of all the images in the book.




Andrew Zuckerman does little to manipulate the animals in his book Creature (Chronicle Books, 2007), aside of course from putting them in to a studio and blinding them with dozens of lights. From the looks of things, Zuckerman allowed the animals some controlled roaming in a large studio and he snapped away, allowing for the moments to unfold and the animals to be themselves. Of the three books, Creature is certainly the least anthropomorphic. The animals aren’t painted, they aren’t placed into “homes,” and they are not asked to act (too much) for our pleasure. No, aside from being removed from their native environment the creatures (about 170 of them) are allowed to be creatures. From the ghostly aura of a hairless cat to the powerful photos of a common dove, Zuckerman does not project humanness on the animals, his examinations allow the animals’ humanity to project upon us. The book’s layout adds to the meditative state of the images. The animals are photographed on a white background and some of the images spread across two pages. My personal favorite is the lone honeybee, printed actual size on a stark white page.


Each of the three books are worth reading and viewing, the photography is impeccable, and the images are a joy to behold. Furthermore, the books serve as a wonderful reminder that the human animal shares this planet with other equally amazing creatures and that we should be very mindful of their presence.

SB

1 comment:

monkey said...

The Andrew Zuckerman book would make a nice companion to the Patrick Gries book "Evolution".

Seems even on TV there is a tendency towards the anthropomorphic given shows like Meerkat Manor. I think there's even a new one with orangutans.