August 18, 2009 - 10:05 pm
"Our intention is to generate society that connects each individual to his or her creative powers, to participation in community, to the larger realm of civic life, and to the even greater world of nature that exists beyond society." - from What is Burning Man?.
It's a great sentiment. But, I'm a photographer, and there's rules against people like me. By attending the event, I must agree to be bound by these rules. Photographs are for personal use only. If I display any photographs taken at the event in a public forum, the Burning Man Organization can claim the copyright. The photographs I create in the desert are not mine.
Before going to Burning Man for the first time in 2007, my friends explained the photography rules to me. I was crushed. I brought a few cameras with me anyway, but I lacked the self-confidence to challenge the rules at all. Asking for permission to use my own photographs seemed really hard. It would really hurt me if they said no. So, I continued to feel like an outsider. They spoke the words of being inclusive and encouraging creativity, but I didn't feel it. I shot a few photos when I was there, but I doubt I even finished one roll of film. I wasted more effort on making sure that no strangers happened to be near my lens than I did composing the damn photos. Feeling the weight of restrictions, my heart just wasn't in it. To this day, very few people have seen the few photos that made it through the editing process. My crap-ass rangefinder is covered in playa and still has a half finished black and white roll in it from that year.
I'll be going again this year, with cameras that I intend to use - for real this time. Art forms are languages. Often I feel that I speak more fluently in the language of photography than spoken English. I have no memory of when I first held a camera, when I took my first photograph. But, there isn't a whole lot I can remember before the age of three or four. Because it feels so natural to me, I used to overlook the value of it - to myself and to my community.
Burning Man's photography rules fed this insecurity, and gave it much more validity than it deserved. Photography was not being seen on the same level as the other art that's out there. Conversations sparked by the EFF vs Burning Man issue emphasized these patterns of thought. People commented about photographers exploiting the participants and artists at Burning Man.
Yes, I understand that some people with the intention of exploitation will be pointing cameras at things. I'm sympathetic to the desires of the Burning Man Org to protect the privacy of its participants. Part of creating a safe space is ensuring that people don't feel vulnerable to possible exploitation - whatever that means. The presence of cameras can make people feel inhibited. They'll feel less free if they think their every move is being recorded. People expressed concerns about commercial uses, about privacy, about misrepresentation.
I don't know what the answer is, but I resent that just because photography is my medium, I'm being grouped with the ones who are Doing It Wrong. Photography is the best way I've found to contribute to my community and culture. It's offensive that my contributions should be looked at differently just because I made them with photons and film. I'm leaving names out of this, but someone was equating the length of time spent on a piece of art to its value. Just one of the lovely things brought out in this discussion. I'm sure *that's* not shaping any of this... Sure, a photograph is created quickly - it has to be (unless it's a really long exposure, but that's not what I'm getting at). It certainly takes less time than building a massive sculpture. But, it's only through years of training and practice that I am able to create a photo in that fraction of a second with the necessary level confidence. In some ways, it's analogous to a dance performance. The routine is developed and practiced ahead of time, but the piece is created in the moment. Every movement is new and belongs to the moment. And we don't see performances being so devalued, just because they happen quickly. The metaphor may have gotten a bit sloppy, but essentially what I'm saying here is that every photograph is the result of an entire life of work. Don't tell me it lacks significance just because photons were only smacking against the film for 1/60th of a second.
Where I am mentally right now, I know that I am not the only one who values my work. And the old tired arguments about photography not really being art are irrelevant - seriously, this conversation happened a hundred years ago. Aren't we done?
I'm not really worried about Burning Man claiming my photographs. If something stupid happens, I'll deal with it when we get there. The real reason I wrote this thing is for my self of two years ago and others like her. If the goal of Burning Man is to encourage participation, they are wrong to have such a heavy-handed restriction on photography. For some of us, the primary mode of participation is through photography. Our voices matter too. And wouldn't it suck if no one took photos at all?
