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Traces of Bodies and Operational Portraits. On The Construction of Pictorial Evidence
Traces of Bodies and Operational Portraits. On The Construction of Pictorial Evidence
Traces of Bodies and Operational Portraits. On The Construction of Pictorial Evidence
This article briefly retraces some of the historical events leading to the creation
of photographic identity cards with passport photos and fingerprints, and to the
present development of DNA forensics, focusing on the transformation of the
broad documentation of the body and its visualization. Since when and how have
bodies been tied to a name, a place of birth, and a country of citizenship by pass-
port photos and fingerprints as an index – or in the future potentially by a DNA
trace – with the objective being to make a particular body unambiguously recog-
nizable and identifiable? “The passport is the noblest part of a human being. […]
A human being can come into existence anywhere, anytime, in the most careless
manner, but never a passport.” 1 Or to switch perspective, as the title of a book on
diaspora studies summarized, “God needs no passport.” 2 Human beings, however,
are obliged to allow themselves to be identified and need to be recognized – some-
thing that even Odysseus struggled with on his return in ancient Greece – other-
wise they are not welcome.
Nowadays passports usually combine fingerprints and a passport photo. The
fingerprint is a contact print, a physical trace, produced by direct contact by the
finger on a surface. As the art historian Bettina Uppenkamp notes, “[…] the ease
with which in the imprint of the human hand the gesture results in a figure, con-
tact in a likeness, or to express it semiotically, an index turns into an icon.” 3 Hand
imprints are the oldest surviving pictorial symbols. Fingerprints are different for
each individual and are useful for unambiguous identification, but this cannot
happen on “first sight” and instead requires the respective person to cooperate or
to be arrested.
Being recognized
The situation changed completely in the first half of the 19th century with the
invention of a number of photographic processes. Physical objects were depicted
mechanically through the optical-chemical trace of light. The media and percep-
tion theorist Rudolf Arnheim noted: “The physical objects draw their own likeness
by the means of the optical and chemical functionality of the light.” 6 For the first
time it seemed technically viable to record the human face indexically and auto-
matically without any disturbance or interference. In France, the inventor and pho-
tographer André Disdéri obtained a patent for business cards that included small
photographic portraits. These cartes de visite were affordable and soon became
very popular.7 At the same time, the advantages that photography offered for the
identification of persons were also recognized. In 1870, hundreds of members of
the Paris Commune were identified using photographs and subsequently killed.8
This demonstrates how the recording and storing of the human bodies and faces
4 The first declaration was only meant for “mature” citizens, meaning women were excluded.
The suffragete Olympes de Gouges presented her “Declaration of the rights of the woman and
female citizen” 1791 at the National Assembly. Olympe de Gouges: Schriften, Frankfurt am
Main: Stroemfeld, Roter Stern, 1989.
5 Michel Foucault: Discipline and Punish: the Birth of the Prison, New York: Random House, 1975.
6 Rudolf Arnheim: Die Seele in der Silberschicht. Medientheoretische Texte. Photographie – Film –
Rundfunk, Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, (1974) 2004, p. 24.
7 Jochen Voigt: Faszination Sammeln. Cartes de Visite. Eine Kulturgeschichte der photog raphischen
Visitenkarte, Chemnitz: Edition Mobilis, 2006.
8 Gisèle Freund: Photographie und Gesellschaft, Reinbek: Rowohlt, 1979, p. 119.
of the population made each individual identifiable by the police. In this historical
situation, however, to be recognized amounted to a death sentence.
“This is the human being when he is exposed to other’s gaze: He needs a persona
and asks himself how he comes across; he is in danger or may receive a fortune –
simply due to the fact that he is being looked at.” 11
For this reason, passport photographs seem to mortify their subjects and create
self-evidence. They have the status of a visual document, presenting the most
9 Cf. Andreas Reisen: Der Passexpedient. Geschichte der Reisepässe, Baden-Baden: Nomos, 2012,
(see image 1 here), Image. 65, p. 97.
10 Cf. Susanne Regener: Bildtechnik und Blicktechnik. In: id.: Fotografische Erfassung: zur
Geschichte medialer Konstruktionen des Kriminellen, München: Fink, 1999, pp. 161–167.
11 Rudolf Arnheim (s. fn. 6), p. 27. Cf. also Roland Barthes: Camera Lucida, New York: Farrar Straus
& Giroux, 1981, p. 10–16 and Allan Sekula: The Body and the Archive. In: October, 39, Winter
1986, p. 3–64.
12 W.J.T. Mitchell: What Do Pictures Want: The Lives and Loves of Images, Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 2004, p. 49.
“Hey, you there!” on the street, whereupon the individual hailed turns around,
and in doing so, becomes a subject “because he has recognized that the hail was
‘really’ addressed to him, and that ‘it was really him who was hailed’”.13 The next
logical step in this scene would be for the policeman to say, “Identify yourself.”
In this way identification documents and police controls construct both citizens
and foreigners. Gender theorist Judith Butler reconsidered Althusser’s concept of
interpellation in the creation of gender roles. Butler analyzes the act of baptism
that turns a human being into a gendered subject (“It’s a girl!”).14 However, Butler
criticizes Althusser’s concept of interpellation as it assumes the figure of a sov-
ereign godly voice that is reduced to the moment of its articulation and does not
include any possibilities for resistance and rearticulation.15
In fact, a special case illustrating a new articulation of subjectivities can be
found even in the history of photographic identification. This is highly significant
as the ID photo together with the passport is usually a normative instrument that
does not allow any obscurities or positionings in-between, and codifies gender,
citizenship, and age. This exception is a special identity card that permitted and
facilitated the performing of the other gender role, and that was introduced and
distributed during the Weimar Republic by the pioneer of the study of sexuali-
ties Magnus Hirschfeld. It was called a “transvestite certificate or card.” 16 These
exceptions permitted by the police and the psychiatric establishment only existed
for a few years.
As an addendum, the continuation of the history of the identity card under
National Socialism should be noted. The National Socialists introduced a new law
on domestic mandatory identification on September 10, 1939. The identity card
and passport system was actively used to differentiate between Jews and non-Jews,
as is well known and has been extensively researched.17
13 Louis Althusser: Ideology and Ideological State Apparatuses. In: id. (ed.): Lenin and Philosophy
and Other Essays, transl. by Ben Brewster, New York: Monthly Review, 1971, pp. 127–186, quote
p. 174. Emphasis in the original.
14 Cf. Judith Butler: Bodies That Matter, New York: Routledge, 1993, p. 232.
15 Butler (s. fn. 14), pp. 81–97.
16 Hans-Magnus Hirschfeld Archive. Cf. Magnus Hirschfeld: Transvestiten, Berlin: Verlag Alfred
Pulvermacher, 1910, pp. 192–198, and Rainer Herrn: Die falsche Hofdame vor Gericht: Trans-
vestitismus in Psychiatrie und Sexualwissenschaft oder die Regulierung der öffentlichen Klei-
derordnung. In: Medizinhistorisches Journal, 2014, 49, pp. 199–236.
17 On this issue, see Götz, Aly & Karl-Heinz Roth: Die restlose Erfassung. Volkszählen, Identifizieren,
Aussondern im Nationalsozialismus, Frankfurt am Main: Fischer, (1984) 2000.
2: Heather Dewey-Hagborg:
Stranger Vision.
chewing gum or a cigarette butt, and a strand of hair. At the biohacking lab Gen-
space, she extracted sequences of the genetic code found in her samples under
scientific supervision and used different primers to create a polymerase chain
reaction. 20 Then she could search for specific markers within the DNA sequence
for individual traits such as eye and hair color, a predisposition to freckles, a ten-
dency for obesity, and a number of other characteristics. 21 She fed the results into
a 3D modeling software that generated sculptural portrait busts from the data,
which were then printed with a 3D printer. The resulting portraits are not a com-
pletely accurate match; rather they show something akin to a family resemblance
(fig. 2+3). As a cross-check, the artist had first created a portrait from her own DNA
sample; the strong likeness it presented had surprised her. 22
Dewey-Hagborg’s piece received a lot of media attention and prompted a
discussion about (genetic) surveillance and the protection of personal data, visi-
bility in public spaces, and ethical issues. 23 These were exactly the questions she
3: Heather Dewey-Hagborg:
Stranger Vision.
had wanted to provoke, as she had done previously in other works that commented
critically on new technologies and scientific methods.
Without doubt, the portraits she created differ from passport photos in their
aesthetics, formal qualities, and technical aspects, and yet they have a similar
function: to trace an individual and make his or her face recognizable. Signifi-
cantly, the verbal metaphors for describing this new process are also taken from
photography as the technique has been termed a “DNA snapshot” and had been
commercially trademarked by the American company Parabon NanoLabs, even
though the process has nothing in common with the quick photographic snapshot,
relying instead on an elaborate calculation process that ultimately retranslates
data into visual form (fig. 4). 24
Parabon NanoLabs already offers this method commercially, and it is, of course,
no surprise that it supported by the US Department of Defense.
Conclusion: Mis/Recognition
The pursuit of exact recognition and identification still determines the making of
passports. Current photographic identification has to adhere to biometric stand-
ards and is complemented with digital fingerprints. This is meant to create “a closer
congruence between the identity card and its holder”, as EU governments put it.26
The process for creating identities by means of DNA traces is not yet viable, but
could be used in the future. These technologies are already being applied in their
current state in criminal forensics. 27 However, they are still dependent on visual-
izations because human beings have no organs of perception capable of directly
perceiving DNA sequences.
While trans* and inter* persons have been allowed to change their first
names and assigned gender in their passports in Germany since the passing of
the Transsexual Act in 1981, 28 DNA analysis seems to establish another way to
reach the genetic and objective “truth” of a person’s gender. 29 Moreover, critics
fear that DNA snapshots will further strengthen ethnic/racial profiling by the
police. “Racial profiling” refers to more frequent targeting of, and identity checks
on, non-white people by the police. Image theorist Nicholas Mirzoeff describes this
practice as creating a “nomadic border” that can be established at any time when
a “citizen” looks at a suspicious person who could be an undocumented migrant.30
This nomadic border is grounded in visual differences and seems to insist on
essentializing the materiality of the body. As gender theorist Verena Namberger
argues, existing structures of racial exclusion are not overcome by neomaterialist
conceptions of the body, and yet they are also not simply upheld. Rather:
“In the world of cyborgs, genetic codes, and virtuality, the articulations of racism
are altered. With the concept of bodies as assemblages, it is possible to analyze
how different concepts of race – biological or cultural, analogue or digital – are
not superseded, but ‘intra’-act and are sometimes mutually reinforced.” 31
Needless to say, DNA samples can also be forged and altered; they can be tainted
or changed, as is portrayed in the 1997 science fiction film Gattaca.32 The main
character, Vincent, whose genes are considered substandard, assumes the identity
of Jerome, who was a great athlete before an accident confined him to a wheelchair.
In this way, Vincent, who had been conceived “naturally” by his parents, can live
his dream of working for the elite space agency. Vincent receives blood and urine
samples, skin cells, and a fake fingerprint from Jerome. The film presents possi-
bilities for escaping the seemingly perfect control of subjects and assuming a new
identity.
“Self-identity is a bad visual system,” 33 stated the techno-science pioneer
Donna Haraway as early as 1988, thereby criticizing both the limitations of self-
position in academic life as well as the often unreflected power systems in optical
appliances. Perceptual processes that we believe to be means by which to recognize
others and ourselves are always linked to the production of discernible differences.
Photographic and similar images and visualizations are thereby always complicit
in producing knowledge about the bodies of others. They are part of delineation
processes, a function they still hold today, even after photography has lost its
privileged position as a trusted producer of evidence and objectivity. At the same
30 Nicholas Mirzoeff: The Right to Look. A Counterhistory of Visuality, Durham, NC: Duke Univer-
sity Press, 2011, p. 282.
31 Verena Namberger: Rassismustheorien und die Materialität des Körpers. In: Tobias Goll et al.
(eds.): Critical Matter, Münster: Edition Assemblage, 2013, p. 145. Emphasis as in the original.
32 Andrew Nicoll (director): Gattaca. USA, 1997, http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119177, acc.
08–2015.
33 Donna Haraway: Situated Knowledges. The Science Question in Feminism and the Privilege
of Partial Perspective. In: Feminist Studies, 1988, 14, 3, p. 585.