A Short History of a Little History

A Review of Walter Benjamin's “Little History of Photography”

Finding unity in 1871, the fresh face of Germany was quickly altered by advances in technology and a booming economy. Born in Berlin in 1892, Walter Benjamin thus grew up in a constantly changing city, one “deeply marked by the rampant growth of German industry in the last quarter of the nineteenth century.” ¹ This is perhaps why Benjamin's work often discusses how culture is inherently affected by industrialization and advances in technology. It seeks to provide “radical explorations and theoretical extensions of the reconsiderations of relationships among technology, media, and the human sensory apparatus.” ² It grapples with how industrialization and mechanical reproduction mediates “the complex processes by which we perceive, act upon, and function within that world.” ³ As a prominent philosopher and thinker of the nineteenth century, Benjamin's career as a writer began while he was still in high school and his methodology grew as he matured into adulthood, beginning with German literary and philosophical traditions, and ending with a critique on a series of problems in contemporary culture. His well-known essay, “The Work of Art in the Age of Its Technological Reproducibility” fully discusses his theories concerning the materialistic interaction between art and the viewer, but in his “Little History of Photography,” written in 1931, the reader can begin to see the beginnings of Benjamin's burgeoning philosophical theories. Because he believed that “certain historical moments and forms become legible only at a later moment,” ⁴ Benjamin utilizes the historical progression of photography to discuss its significance within the art world, as well as society as a whole.

“The fog that surrounds the beginnings of photography,” Walter Benjamin writes, “is not quite as thick as that which shrouds the early days of printing.” ⁵ The genius through which photography was born, he asserts, was the inevitable result of the tireless endeavors of men who independently strove to capture images in the camera obscura. Continuing the journey through time, the developing landscape of photography begins to slowly form: from a fuzzy artistic technique to industrialization, from private studios to the fairgrounds, where, as Benjamin notes with derision, “huskters and charlatans” appropriated the new techniques for personal gain. ⁶ He touches on a handful of specific photographs and photographers to show the progression of subject matter from landscape to portrait. He speaks somewhat poetically on the usability of this new technology, for “the most precise technology can give its products a magical value, such as a painted picture can never again possess for us.” ⁷ These were the slow years for photography, when it was still so fresh, so new, that photographers were still afraid to look at their pictures too long lest “the tiny little faces in the picture could look back at us.” ⁸

However, the magic of photography would soon be tainted by businessmen, followed distastefully by the retouched negative (the “bad painter's revenge on photography” ⁹). Photo albums became a fashionable table accessory in which Aunts and Uncles, cousins and siblings, would be presented leaning against a column or propped against a pedestal. Benjamin makes no attempt to hide his derision for this application of photography. Not to be discouraged by this “nonsense,” Benjamin notes that “to do without people is for photography the most impossible of renunciations.” ¹⁰ More specifically, the most virtuous aspect of photography is “to put before the camera people who had no use for their photographs” ¹¹ and the work of German photographer, August Sander, provides the perfect example for Benjamin. Sander's work consists of hundreds of pictures taken of people in every social stratum of life. It empirically examines the differences between different social classes and is, to Benjamin, not a mere collection of portraits but a training manual used for the vital need of reading facial types.

Additionally, Benjamin covers the “present-day” (i.e. 1930's) relationship between art and photography. He does this in a number of ways but the most succinct can be seen in the juxtaposition between the views of Antoine Wiertz and Charles Baudelaire. Benjamin quotes Wiertz as saying that when photography “has grown to its full stature, when all its art and strength have been revealed, then will Genius seize it by the scruff of the neck and shout: 'Come with me—you are mine now! We shall work together!'” ¹² In contrast, Baudelaire's vision of photography is somewhat more cynical. His quote claims that “if photography is permitted to supplement some of art's functions, they will forthwith be usurped and corrupted by it, thanks to photography's natural alliance with the mob.” ¹³

In Benjamin's conclusion, he makes it clear that neither position is really his concern. What both Wiertz and Baudelaire fail to realize, in Benjamin's eyes, are the lessons that can be learned from thinking about the authenticity of photography. In other words, the legitimacy of photography is not nearly as important as the discussion to be garnered from its presence. The subject is filled with cliches that have not furthered the conversation. With new cameras becoming smaller and smaller, the photographer is able to capture quick, secret images that lack substance and understandability. Inscription, then, is Benjamin's answer. With inscriptions, there is no guesswork to the questions concerning a photograph's purpose. In the future, the illiterate will be those who are ignorant of photography, but Benjamin asks: what about the photographer? Shouldn't he be deemed just as illiterate if he is unable to read his own pictures?

Ultimately, Benjamin's “Little History” frames the historical progression of photography within its growth as a usable technological apparatus. Although not significantly developed, “the critique of capitalist industry provides a frame, always present in the background.” ¹⁴ The title would seem appropriate, as well, for while historical progress pushes his argument along, it is but a canvas for the brushstrokes that reveal a “philosophical account of visual perception.” ¹⁵

Furthermore, David S. Ferris asserts that Benjamin's chosen method is dialectical materialism, which “locates things or the material reality of life within a process that involves ongoing conflict and opposition.” ¹⁶ It is dialectical in nature because no absolute power controls the process. This approach allows Benjamin to analyze the political, cultural and intellectual trends of a particular time without being swayed by the biases of that particular era. While this may very well be true, Benjamin nonetheless falls prey to his own ideologies. Indeed, his bias is evident throughout, as he often implies a “correct” application of photography, speaking with derision on some and singing high praise for others.

However, that is not say that Benjamin's history has little merit. He explores the history of photography as thoroughly as anyone could at the time, considering that the technology was still rapidly growing and finding its purpose in society. His retrospect of photography's origins is still a valuable source of knowledge. His obvious and implied opinions demonstrate the contention that the new technology faced almost immediately from its conception. The frenzy with which is was devoured by the masses and the hesitance of the art world to accept or deny its offspring further comments on the power of the photography. When all is said and done, the visual image, no matter its tools of creation, will always provide society with both beauty and conflict.

Endnotes and Bibliography 

Endnotes

1Walter Benjamin, The Work of Art in the Age of Its Technological Reproducibility, and Other Writings On Media, ed. Michael William Jennings, Brigid Doherty, and Thomas Y. Levin (Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2008), 1.

2Ibid., 3

3Ibid.

4Ibid., 6

5Ibid., 274

6Ibid.

7Ibid., 276

8Ibid., 279

9Ibid., 281

10Ibid., 286

11Ibid.

12Ibid., 294

13Ibid.

14David S. Ferris, The Cambridge Introduction to Walter Benjamin, Cambridge Introductions to Literature (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008), 92, accessed December 15, 2014,http://www.colorado.edu/humanities/ferris/Content/Texts/Excerpt-Ferris_WB-CUP-Intro.pdf.

15Ibid.

16Ibid., 91

Bibliography

Benjamin, Walter The Work of Art in the Age of Its Technological Reproducibility, and Other Writings On Media. Edited by Michael William Jennings, Brigid Doherty, and Thomas Y. Levin. Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2008.

Ferris, David S. The Cambridge Introduction to Walter Benjamin. Cambridge Introductions to Literature. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008. Accessed December 15, 2014.http://www.colorado.edu/humanities/ferris/Content/Texts/Excerpt-Ferris_WB-CUP-Intro.pdf.