Archive for January, 2012

January 30, 2012

Voir Paris


The only thing I’m not impressed by on Marion Blank’s Tumblr are the photos by the old masters like André Kertesz. Which is not to say that I dislike Kertesz’s photos. On the contrary. But they have no place among Marion Blank’s black and white photos of contemporary Paris.

Generally when I see photos of Paris, although they may be beautiful photos, I have a sense of looking into the past. The photos are looking backwards, to past glories and supposedly better times. We are already saturated with images of Paris from the 1920s, ’30s, ’50s, that when we look through a camera lens, this is what we’re looking for. Nor is this entirely the fault of the nostalgic masses of tourists that swarm the City of Light. Paris itself, as a city harkens back to previous times. This is what Adam Gopnik referred to as the “museumification of Paris.”

It is hard to see Paris as anything else than a parody of its former self. Looking at photos of contemporary Paris, I generally see a photo that is self-consciously trying to be a past Paris. Like a pose, the photo knows what Paris is supposed to look like and imitates that.

This is not true of Marion Blank’s photos. (I don’t know Marion Blank, not even if it’s a person or persons, and the name sounds suspiciously like a pseudonym, but I’m here assuming it is indeed one person with that name and that she is a woman.)

When I look at them, I see a living, breathing, un-self-conscious city, with its dwellers and structures being nothing other than what they are at that very moment.

Look at the photos. On the surface, black and white, one could almost confuse them with the old masters’ photos of Paris. But then you see that they are all taken in 2012. These are photos not one month old! (Marion Blank’s Tumblr contains many photos from before 2012, but I selected for my post ten out of seventy-seven photos that were marked 2012.) Instead of looking at a contemporary photo and seeing a previous Paris, as is the case with most photos of the great city, these are photos that look old but reveal a Paris that is present, imminent, our peer.

I see in these photos a city surprisingly vibrant, not ready to be thrown into the bin of “been there, done that.” Not ready for museumification. A city which still wants to be photographed. Not for what it used to be, but for the way it is. Paris isn’t over, we’ve just been photographing it wrong. Until now.



January 6, 2012

Information Gap

The word information, according to Merriam-Webster’s dictionary, dates back to the 14th century. So does the verb inform. The noun informant is a little more recent (1657), as is the adjective informative (1655). But other words that have ‘information’ in them are mostly brand new: information theory (1950), information retrieval (1950), information science (1960), informatics (1967), right down to infotainment (1980), infomercial (1981), and information superhighway (1983).

All of that is a piece of information available to anyone with a dictionary or a internet connection. I mention information and dictionaries in the same sentence again because ever since I wrote a very short post about James Gleick’s book The Information, I’ve been wanting to revisit the subject. In that post I tried to convey an ambivalence about the idea of information and the paradigm it belongs to. On the one hand, a dictionary is indeed a source of information. And I loved the idea (this is from the previous post on Gleick) of a dictionary thought of as the DNA map of language, a double helix of words and definitions opened to the eye. Further, DNA itself is thought of as the information how to build a cell, how to create life, making it seem almost as if it is information that is the basis of life.

However, that something can be thought of as something is not the same as it being something. Perhaps a dictionary can be thought of as a source of information, but can it be reduced to this? Meaning, a dictionary is probably more than just a source of information. (I don’t know enough biology to make a similar claim about DNA, but I strongly suspect that this is the case with DNA as well.)

Anyway, the opportunity to think about this again presented itself when I saw two youtube videos. Here is the first.

This is a video of pictures taken world wide throughout the year 2011. The good people over at triposo made it for our pleasure. In addition to this video, on their website they give stills and talk about why various parts of the globe light up at various times.

There is a problem.

[There are at least a couple, actually. But I’m going to leave aside the one where in a single image they talk about one part of the world, while another part is just as lit up.
For March 21st they mention why Iran is all lit up, but not why Spain and Portugal are. In fact Spain is more lit up in March than in November for All Souls Day, a Catholic holiday they mention on the site. But I think that’s less of a problem.]

On November 30th, the whole world just flashes. They don’t know why. Aside from January 1st no other day lights up the world as much. They sort of explain it away: “It’s a camera setting thing, we expect.” But this got me thinking. The information they gave is, although a wonderful presentation of a year in pictures, didn’t teach us anything. Most days and flashes we can ourselves explain because we know the dates of holidays and the vacationing habits of certain populations; the ones we can’t explain (November 30th), the flashes cannot either, nor the people who compiled the video.


Here is the second video.

This is a Stanford University project called Mapping the Republic of Letters. They have a wonderful site all about the project here. The visualizations and graphics are just fantastic, I think. The idea of actually mapping this abstract ‘republic’ as if it were itself a country, also speaks to me intensely.

But thinking of the letters as information, as roadways that come to physically represent a country (in the way that, for example a map of roadways will concretize an abstract idea such as France, the country) – well, something is lost, no? Can it really be said that Voltaire was more of a citizen of the Republic of Letters if he wrote more of them than Rousseau? Is it not simply a case of having the means (Rousseau bounced around between residences much more than Voltaire), being a nicer person (Jean-Jacques was notoriously good at making enemies) and being better connected (Voltaire simply knew more people in higher places)?

And then also, do all letters carry equal weight? Do Voltaire’s five letters to his mistress, Émilie du Châtelet, who would have also been an equal member in the RL, count the same as one letter to David Hume?

I guess I am wondering what the great thinkers who comprised the RL would have thought of our informational attempt at mapping them. Or what the 18th century thinkers who put together our reference books for the first time, dictionaries and encyclopedias would have thought of our reading them as information retrieval systems. While information mapping is wonderful and has undoubtedly been very useful, how much are we reading our own paradigms of the world back onto the past?

Remember, the word information is from the 14th century. How do we understand its meaning prior to our changing it to suit our own purposes?