The Nude: Where Do We Go From Here?

In a world saturated with sexual imagery, when we can buy, rent, read or view more porn than the Marquis de Sade could ever have dreamed of (and he could dream, you betcha), when we can open up a web browser and ramble through thousands upon thousands of photographs of nudes, where Photoshop retouching is standard operating procedure for every portrait and every figure photograph, I think it’s reasonable to wonder – where do we go from here?

Most of this avalanche of nude and figure photography is banal and unimaginative, of interest only to the photographer and (maybe) the model who did the posing, but with a bit of sifting I find a significant amount of good work. Many photographers out there have developed a good eye and a solid technique that allows them to do strong figure photography in a variety of styles. There’s no shortage of talent and no shortage of photographable bodies (male and female). But I’m thinking that there might be a shortage of imagination and vision.

Much of the figure photography that gets made is a very personal affair, a visual record of a relationship – a memento, a gift, perhaps even a trophy. The photographs are really created for one, maybe two people. They may get posted somewhere, even published, but they are self-sufficient in the sense that a ‘statement’ was never the original intention of the photographer. They are essentially private documents that may go public for one reason or another.

But many photographers, I believe, do have a larger audience in mind when they work. Their ‘statement’ is simple and straightforward – the human body is a beautiful thing to contemplate – no further justification is necessary. They hope that their photographs will be shared with and appreciated by others. Hard to argue with that, because the human figure has always been and will always be intensely attractive to the human eye. The pinup photograph will be a popular genre (and pastime) until, I expect, the day we’re all finally supplanted by robots.

As long as human beings are running around loose, we will be looking at each other’s bodies, painting them, sculpting them and photographing them. The subject will never grow old – though the individual bodies, alas, certainly will!

We all follow the same path at the beginning of our photographic adventures; we learn to light, we learn to compose, we learn to work with the model. We start in a state of total confusion and eventually things begin to clarify as our skills develop. Somewhere along the way, hopefully, we become confident enough in our skills to begin to ask ourselves not ‘how’, but – ‘why?’

So that’s the first question: is another beautiful image of a beautiful human body enough? Many will say, “Sure. What’s not to like?” Fair enough.

But I do find it interesting that in painting and sculpture, both traditional and modern, we see images of the human body that go far beyond the simple rendition of another graceful figure. And I think that their vocabulary is far richer than that of photographers who continue to link photography with glamor and fashion.

Simple example: How many nude figure studies have you seen of an 80-year old woman? Wouldn’t such a photo be of interest? Socially? Psychologically? Visually? Aesthetically?

Painters and sculptors spend years drawing and sketching the figure; do they confine their attentions only to beautiful young women? Obviously not. I expect a vast majority of them would say that the 80-year old woman (or man) would be a far more interesting subject.

Yet, with a few notable exceptions, photographers don’t seem to agree with that opinion.

The exceptions? Well, look at photographers like Jan Saudek and Joel-Peter Witkin. Strong, strong images. One may admire their work or hate their work, but they are, without a doubt, not figure photographers who are afraid to push the envelope!

And the more I look around the web, the more I discover that there are many really remarkable photographers doing innovative figure photography right now. I’m looking forward to presenting their work here in FPM as time goes on. But for the moment let’s take a look at the subject from a different perspective.

Here’s some work from an exceptional contemporary British painter, Jenny Saville. She paints nudes, of herself and of others. They are visually arresting, painfully graphic, and honestly human. Saville, I think, gives us all a true glimpse of the soul buried within those mounds of all-too-mortal flesh. How often does a photographer dare to go that far, to dig that deeply, to see that clearly? There aren’t a lot of analogues in photography for paintings like these.

Saville’s images push the boundaries of the traditional nude study. The paintings are certainly about form and texture and color, as we would expect from any nude; but her technique really serves to give Saville a platform upon which to ‘discuss’ far more important issues than mere aesthetics. These paintings talk about self-image, loss, fear, and emotional frailty. There’s not a lot of optimism in Saville’s vision; but I don’t think anyone can view such work and not be moved. These paintings have important things to tell us about ourselves, and that’s what real art is all about, isn’t it?

So where is the photography that exhibits this kind of emotional power? Nan Goldin’s unsettling and painfully personal photojournalism comes to mind, as does Donna Ferrato’s work in ‘Love and Lust’ and ’Living with the Enemy’.

I’d suggest, however, that the work of both photographers may be too specific to achieve the kind of timeless and universal statements that Savile is able to convey. Goldin’s and Ferrato’s documentary style of photography – capturing the real lives of their subjects in specific social environments , caught like actors in a drama with no final curtain expected – undercuts their ability to speak to all people in all times and all places . Saville, on the other hand, apparently understands the problems inherent in this documentary approach; she understands the strength of non-specificity, and places her figures in a universal, socially ‘empty’ space, so that the viewer is not be distracted by social or political prejudices, is not allowed to say “that is some other kind of person. That has nothing to do with my world.”

Saville doesn’t allow us that ‘out’. Her women are all of us, every one.

Actor and photographer Leonard Nimoy also has something to add to this conversation. He has done an interesting book which also explores the outer edges of feminine beauty, ‘The Full Body Project’. He approaches the nude female figure with respect and lets his less-than-perfect models express their own personas in their own way. Nimoy was able to develop a relationship with a group of very un-traditional burlesque dancers, and it’s delightful to see them share their unconventional beauty with a world which has precious little tolerance for those of us who don’t quite measure up. Personally, I would be happier with the work if it had a bit more emotional depth; but perhaps this just wasn’t possible to achieve - these self-confident women went pretty damn far ‘out there’ as it is – perhaps they could go no farther. Nevertheless, this is really good and commendable work, indeed.

If you visit Mr. Nimoy’s website, make sure you don’t miss his homage to Helmut Newton. Very cool!

So what’s the point of this essay? Well, I’d just encourage us all to stretch ourselves a bit more, to push beyond clichés, to look for new ways to portray the human form, to look for beauty and grace and intelligence and empathy in everyone, not just the young and the beautiful :-)

CR