“We think. Our memory, our brain, our dreams are built with images. Thus it’s very important to know them, analyze them.”
Joan Fontcuberta’s “winning move” is like that of the Knight: two steps forward, and one to the side. The steps forward to investigate possible new developments in photographic language—his field of action—and the steps to the side to delve deeper and reflect.
The Catalan photographer—but also curator, writer, and teacher—has spanned several decades of photography’s history, witnessing its transition from documentation to narration, from profession to “universalization,” anticipating its turning points and often proposing the most progressive interpretations. This led to the theorization of “postphotography,” where an “ecology of the image” will lead to the giving of new intentions and new meanings to what has already been photographed, and therefore, in some way, “imagined.” The changing nature of photography now manifests itself, given its pervasiveness, in parallel with the culture of sharing and the intent to deepen its meaning.
The chessboard on which he moves is very broad. And so are his explorations, provocations, projects, and analyses. The surrealist traces of his early work have not faded over time. Thus, reading some of his projects can be marked by a slightly mocking smile, while his association with the world of advertising, and even more so, living in his youth in the twilight of a dictatorship, with its propaganda and repression, taught him a healthy distrust and attention to “representations through images,” and a disenchanted and critical view of the medium used.
The reality/fiction duality is a guiding thread in some of his best-known projects: for example, images of flora, fauna, or stars are created with artifice, rendered as “realistic” as possible, and then “documented” and exhibited (“Herbarium,” “Fauna,” “Constel-lacions”). He jokes—seriously, of course—with sacred and profane (“Miracles & Co.,” “Orogenesis”), with artists and their inspiration (“The Artist and the Photograph”), and even his “collaborators” (Ximo Berenguer) or his “creations” (Vivian Maier—editor’s note: even the fake can be fake), and their stories, fail to stand up to scrutiny. And this is precisely what the author invites us to do—to verify—when he discusses these themes, with tools that must be increasingly perceptive and extensive, given the ease with which they can be deceived.
The deliberate ambiguity of many works is further enhanced by the effectiveness of increasingly sophisticated tools (from Photoshop to Artificial Intelligence), the “mimesis” of typical scientific instruments, the refined placement of the works, and the mystifying but actually virtuous intent, that is, the unveiling of other mystifications.
Furthermore, the focus on memory, underscoring its importance, easily ties in with a curiosity about archival work, the re-presentation and re-elaboration of photographic materials, even those damaged by time (“Trauma”), which he approaches with an equally scientific and “nostalgic” spirit, simultaneously underscoring the “chemical” fragility of the medium and echoing the illusion of representing the “real.”
What Darwin Missed, 2024, Corallium cancrorum
Shifts in attention, underlying “glitches,” wonder and doubt: there are many elements present in Fontcuberta’s works that draw attention, that lead to questioning. Images—despite being our “medium” for reality—constitute a reality in themselves.
The enormous possibilities now afforded us by technological tools—many of which are still in the making—demand even greater attention to be attentive, ready, and responsive to reality, and therefore to its representations. To be not only critical perceivers, but also active.
We met Joan Fontcuberta at the “Photography, from Alchemy to Algorithm” lecture/event held at the Gallerie d’Italia in Turin, part of the “#Overview” series of events that aim to offer “a bird’s eye view of photography,” reflecting on its role in the contemporary world.
Q.: One of the aspects that is emphasized in your work is the reflection on reality and fiction. It’s a topic of great interest, central, especially today, especially in light of recent technological developments, such as Artificial Intelligence. What do you think of the latest developments in this field and its applications?
A.: Well, my work isn’t just focused on fiction. Perhaps it’s its most popular aspect. I’ve dealt with memory, truth, the materiality of images, the idea of language, and so on. But in my view, I believe that all images are illusions. All images are like the shadows in Plato’s cave, which are a kind of mediation between reality and us. Reality—out there—is far away; we can’t access it, but only through the intercession of images can we do so. But images are not reality. Now, with the current massification of images, they not only represent reality, but create another reality, a parallel reality, separate from our lives, that takes place in this virtual reality. This is why we should think critically about how images work, because they are the way we can access reality. We should accept it as a “system.” Reality is not the opposite of fiction. If fiction disappears, our bridge to reality will also disappear.
Herbarium, Braohypoda frustrata, 1984
Q.: What do you consider to be the most important moments in your career, the ones that have most contributed to your current form of expression?
A.: I’ve been active in the world of photography for 50 years, starting in the early 1970s. I’ve witnessed the changes, not only technologically, but in the way photography has been a tool to help us resolve many issues. For example, identity, the idea of documenting, of celebrating through images. I mean, I’ve followed this evolution. I couldn’t pinpoint a single moment. Perhaps 1989, because on the one hand, Photoshop and post-photography emerged, and at the same time the Berlin Wall fell. There were two universes: the political, geopolitical, and the visual, which were collapsing. And perhaps it wasn’t a coincidence that it happened at the same time.
Q.: The current phase of democratization and universalization of the means of creating and disseminating images is ambivalent: on the one hand, the diffusion of the means of expression, on the other, the inflation of the image, and its pervasive presence. Is there a way to untangle, choose, and understand? And understand better?
A.: We should be aware that, despite this diffusion of images, despite this incredible abundance, not all images have the same value. Images now provide a way of speaking, speaking through photographs. I mean, it’s not just a language, but a way of speaking. It’s not just writing. We learn to speak with images, in a spontaneous and natural way. Because of this, photographs are very relevant to our lives today. Photographs are a way we relate to others, a way we communicate, a way we celebrate, a way we govern our identity. I think the fact that there are so many images isn’t bad in itself. But, in any case, I think there are two intelligent critical strategies. One is to focus on the “missing” images: the images that have been censored, that don’t exist—for whatever reason—that have been lost. There are still many “missing” images. On the other hand, the other strategy could be a kind of critical and intelligent management of abundance. We have all these photographs, what can we do with them? There are photographers, like Joachim Schmid, who said—as a sort of manifesto—”Don’t make new photographs until the old ones have been used.” We should probably do this: a sort of ecological attitude towards this type of proliferation.
Miracles & co, 2002, The miracle of cryofloration
Q.: If the nature of photography is uncertain, if politicians tell lies, if the media are manipulated, if Artificial Intelligence creates fictitious realities, who should we believe? How should we proceed?
A.: The problem is actually: how do we build trust? How can we trust information sources? This is a very problematic issue. I think we should be aware of how easy it is to falsify information, with the authority of photographic evidence. We should probably use the forensic system; we should be skeptical. And only ascertain the veracity after all the critical tests have been done.
Q: I read an article that said art these days needs to be less provocative and more proactive. Do you agree?
A: These are all good-sounding statements, but what’s their hidden meaning? For me, that’s a different question. I don’t know if I agree with that statement or not. For me, what’s happening is that these new technologies, like generative artificial intelligence, are producing images quickly and easily. This means that all the work that was previously required can be saved. And all the time and energy we save producing these images can be invested in having ideas, in thinking, in imagining.