Media & Culture

Last night I watched Alex Garland’s new film Annihilation; I remember seeing the trailer some months ago and, as it was portrayed as potentially just another ’the team goes in; creepy things happen; most die’ scenario, I didn’t pay much interest. However, I’ve read a few articles on it since and, as it’s gone straight to Netflix, it was a ready choice (and it was Saturday night after a day of overtime work).

I’ve decided to leave Facebook. I’ve two primary reasons: first, I don’t think it’s allowing for the type of connection I want to build and maintain with my friends; second, it is frankly starting to creep me out.

Facebook, on the surface, has been a way to keep tabs on friends spread far across the world and reach back in time to maintain friendships from the past. However, I don’t find that I’m engaging with people in the considered way I need to on order to make these relationships substantive. I often feel I’m peering round the corners of connections as if looking through your living room window across the street. I have friends on Facebook with whom I’ve not communicated directly in a dozen years or more but from whom I receive regular updates on the state of their health and families, their travels, work, and major life decisions. Likewise, when I sporadically share something on Facebook, I often am either bringing out something very deep from my life in a passing way or making a comment on a specific situation that might not translate well to social media. In both cases, I’m sending or receiving a partial picture of life that isn’t making that essential connection in the way that I want or need with my friends—and I am feeling the lack of that in the process.

Since my return from India I’ve given much thought to the role photographers and journalists play in world events—or, perhaps that’s not the scale I’m considering—what is our role and responsibility to the individuals we document? This is not a novel question; it’s standard in the curriculum of J-schools everywhere and is (or should be) a primary consideration for any journalist of integrity. However, I’m trying to codify it for myself and make clear what I’m attempting when working with vulnerable people.
I’ve had a profitable discussion with David Wells over the past weeks; David is a former teacher of mine and experienced photojournalist. I suggested we might compose a code of conduct—a sort of Hippocratic Oath for photographers (again, not an original idea but one that might be revisited as the nature of journalism changes). I think it important that, as we travel into communities where we have free reign to work (often without thorough question of our motives), we clearly state our purpose and intent. We may not always fulfil that ideal but neither can a physician always save his or her patient. Journalism and medicine involve a careful balance of skill and serendipity; both carry the opportunity for healing as well as harm.

Earlier this week, As part of the Scottish Mental Health Arts and Film Festival, the Centre for Contemporary Art hosted a day-long seminar on using the arts to work with youth experiencing mental health issues. I attended several discussions and workshops; Lorenzo Mele, of 7:84 Theatre Company Scotland led a brief workshop on producing collaborative drama (or Forum Theatre…this is “of the oppressed week” for me as we are reading Pedagogy of the Oppressed for my MSc and I am now reading Augusto Boal’s Theatre of the Oppressed from which forum theatre is based). After the workshop, Lorenzo invited me to a performance today at The Tron, a theatre here in the city.