The midterm period often conjures images of stressful exams and late-night study sessions. However, for my History of Photography course, it culminated not in a blue book, but in a curated collection of "midterm artifacts." This assignment required us to select three key photographs from the course’s syllabus – pieces that resonated, challenged, or fundamentally altered my understanding of photography’s evolution. My choices, ultimately, were Eugène Atget's "Avenue de l'Opéra, circa 1898-1900," Henri Cartier-Bresson's "Behind the Gare Saint-Lazare, 1932," and Cindy Sherman's "Untitled Film Still #21, 1978." These images, when brought together, offer a compelling narrative arc reflecting my own engagement with the course material, moving from an initial appreciation of photographic documentation to a deeper interrogation of its artistic and conceptual dimensions.
Atget's "Avenue de l'Opéra" served as my initial anchor in understanding photography as a tool for historical record. Before this course, my perception of photography was largely utilitarian – a way to capture moments and preserve memories. Atget's work, with its meticulous attention to the architectural details and everyday life of Belle Époque Paris, embodied this documentary impulse. Looking at the composition, the slight blur suggesting movement, and the vastness of the avenue stretching into the distance, I saw not just a street, but a historical document laid bare. It sparked a curiosity about what else photography could record, leading me to consider the photographer's choices in framing the world. This artifact reminded me that even seemingly straightforward documentary photography involves deliberate decisions about perspective and emphasis, a subtle but important lesson that laid the groundwork for appreciating more complex works.
Moving from Atget’s objective gaze to Cartier-Bresson’s decisive moment felt like a significant leap in understanding photographic agency. "Behind the Gare Saint-Lazare" is a masterclass in capturing the ephemeral. The leaping figure, the perfectly placed puddles, the geometric lines of the background – it all coalesces into a single, dynamic frame. My initial reaction was one of admiration for the sheer luck and skill involved. Yet, as we discussed the concept of the "decisive moment," I began to see the underlying intellectual rigor. Cartier-Bresson wasn't just documenting a scene; he was orchestrating it, anticipating it, and capturing it at the precise instant when all elements aligned to create a powerful, meaningful image. This artifact pushed me to think about the photographer not just as an observer, but as an active interpreter, shaping reality through the lens. It moved the conversation beyond "what" was photographed to "how" and "why."
Cindy Sherman's "Untitled Film Still #21" represented the most profound shift in my thinking, challenging my understanding of photography as inherently truthful or objective. The image, featuring Sherman herself posed as a stereotypical B-movie actress, is a deliberate fabrication. The artifice is palpable – the lighting, the costume, the exaggerated posture. Initially, I felt a sense of disorientation, almost a betrayal of the photographic medium’s supposed authenticity. However, through our discussions on postmodernism and the constructed nature of identity, this artifact became a powerful illustration of how photography can be used to critique and deconstruct cultural narratives. Sherman’s work forced me to confront the idea that photographs are not windows onto reality, but rather complex signifiers, shaped by social conventions, genre expectations, and the artist’s intent. This was a crucial moment in my learning, as it moved me from passive consumption of images to active critical engagement.
Collectively, these three midterm artifacts trace my personal intellectual journey through the course. Atget introduced me to the power of photography as a historical record, Cartier-Bresson revealed its potential for capturing fleeting moments with artistic intent, and Sherman demonstrated its capacity for conceptual exploration and social critique. The exercise of selecting and presenting these images forced me to articulate not just what I learned, but how my understanding evolved. It underscored that true engagement with art history involves more than memorizing names and dates; it requires a willingness to wrestle with challenging ideas and allow them to reshape one’s perspective. The midterm artifacts, in their tangible form, became a testament to this process of critical growth.