Cora Jane Sly

Writing Seminar

10.27.21

Title

“As a Spectator…I [will]

explore [these

photographs] not as a

question (a theme) but as

a wound: I see, I feel,

hence I notice, I observe,

and I think,” (Barthes,

144). Barthes defines

Spectator as the onlooker

who views and interprets

the work of the Operator, or the person who took the photograph. This photograph, taken by

William Klein in Little Italy, New York in 1954, depicts three smiling children and a man in a

suit whose head is cut off at the top of the photo. They are standing on a street which is evident

by the storefront and walking pedestrians in the background. At first glance, my attention is

drawn to the three children, which I would categorise as the studium, or element that highlights

the Operator’s intentions. The fact that the children are smiling, two of which are looking

directly into the camera, indicates that they are posing for the photo. This, along with the

observation that the head of the man in the suit is excluded, leads me to believe that Klein
intended to place the Spectator’s focus on the children. The children also appear to have stains

on their clothes as if they had been rolling around in the dirt. Do the kids have clean clothes? If

so, why are they wearing battered clothes in the photo? There does not appear to be a source

pictured for the stains, so where did they come from? Do the children have parents? A home?

Are they being taken care of? Upon further inspection, I noticed that the man in the suit has a

gun pointed at the head of the boy in the middle, and his finger is on the trigger. The boy’s right

hand seems to be placing or retrieving something from the man’s other hand, and the boy’s left

hand in behind his back. The suit worn by the gunman seems to be in good condition (i.e., not

dirty or stained) and there is a bracelet on his wrist. Jewelry and nice clothes are often indicators

of a higher social class, which is a stark contrast to the children pictured. This raises more

questions as the Spectator. Why is there a gun pointed at a child’s head? Why are the children

smiling? What is the man’s connection to the children? Why is the boy’s hand in the man’s

hand? Is the boy hiding something behind his back? Why did Klein exclude the gunman’s

head? The answers to these questions cannot be answered by mere observation of the

photograph, but it certainly prompts further thinking.

The punctum is the “mere presence [that] changes my reading…marked in my eyes with

a higher value,” (Barthes). In this case, I found the punctum to be the gun aimed at the boy’s

head. It distracts from the children, or studium, and stings or pricks me as the Spectator. The

drastic combination of a weapon and a child indicates duality in the photo meaning there are two

distinct, contrasting forces. Barthes states that, “the photograph becomes “surprising” when we

do not know why is has been taken,” (Barthes, 151). This photo shocks me as I cannot come up

with a logical or reasonable explanation for why Klein captured this moment.
 After coming to my own conclusions, I reviewed Barthes’ analysis of the photo taken by

William Klein. I was surprised to see that Barthes’ commentary was only a sentence that stated,

“William Klein has photographed children of Little Italy in New York (1954); all very touching,

amusing, but what I stubbornly see are one child’s bad teeth,” (Barthes, 157). The fact that

Barthes and I focused on different aspects of the photo supports the claim that studium and

punctum can be different for everyone. The quality of the picture prevents me from seeing the

children’s teeth clear enough to distinguish whether they are good or bad. I did not notice the

supposedly “bad” teeth noted by Barthes, though even if I did, it would not hold more weight in

my observation than the gun pointed at a child’s head. I was slightly disappointed that Barthes

did not acknowledge the pairing of a weapon and a child, especially because he went in much

more depth when analysing other photos in his essay Camera Lucida.

I was looking through

the photos I took in

Europe in 2019, and

this has always been

one that captures my

attention, or

temporarily attracts as

Barthes would

describe. The

unwritten adventure is

what draws me back to this photo taken in Italy. The studium, is the small, fluffy dog walking

alongside its owner on a bicycle. Obviously, a cute dog is reason enough to snap a photograph,
but the way in which the dog is present piqued my interest. Everyone in the photo is walking on

two legs or riding on two tires, except for the dog who is prancing on four paws with its tail held

high. The size of the dog compared to the size of the bicycle is almost comical and makes me

wonder how it keeps up on its little legs. The studium adds interest to the photo, but in the sense

of liking, not loving. This photograph is not capturing a memorable event or site, but rather the

hustle and bustle on the streets of Italy. It is not a photo that I would use to commemorate my

trip to Europe, it is simply a picture I happened to capture in the moment. That moment was

prompted by walking past an adorable dog, who though was tethered to the owner’s bike, looked

like it ran the city. The dog seemed to have no care in the world, and no perception of the

attention it attracted. After further analysis, I have come to the conclusion that the dog is both

the studium and the punctum being that my reason for taking the photo and the focal point is the

dog. However, the punctum in this photo expands to the people surrounding the dog as well.

Looking back, I cannot help but notice I was not the only one who was taken by the dog, in fact

three people can be seen catching a glace, which draws further attention to the dog itself.

Though the humans are all heading their own directions, at least four people including myself,

took the time to take in our surroundings and appreciate the dog and bike duo.

Analysing the photo as a Spectator is much different than my experience taking the photo

as the Operator. When I took the photo, I had crossed paths with the pup prancing alongside the

cyclist which inspired me to stop, turn around, and take the photo. I lived this moment in person;

it happened in a matter of seconds and my primary focus was the dog. I was fascinated with how

easily the little dog kept up with its owner on the bike. It wasn’t until I reviewed the photos I

took, that I noticed other people gazing at the dog in the same moment which adds layers and
gives meaning to the picture as a whole. The photo can be seen as multiple elements united by

one theme; this supports the claim that the photo is unary.

This photo was

also taken on the

streets of Italy in

the summer of

2019. A group of

people can be seen

crowding around

an artist and his

mural in progress.

To me, the

studium is the unfinished mural as it was my motivation as the Operator for taking the photo,

and it captures the viewer’s attention and focus. The woman on the far right is taking a picture

of the mural on her phone and the group of people on the sidewalk are standing, some with

reflective facial expressions, gazing at the art. The man on the yellow bike appears to be about

to pedal away after stopping to view the mural, and the artist is talking to a couple of the

onlookers. After a closer look, the picture used for the artist to reference is different from the

mural on the street. The mural is of a woman, presumably a mother, wrapped in a cloak and

wearing a reddish top, and her child. The woman is looking down at the child and the child is

looking off to the side. However, in the reference photo, the mother is holding the child up

higher, level with her own head, the child has an arm wrapped around the mother, and no clothes

can be seen in the visible portion. The reference picture is partially covered up which reflects the
completed portion of the mural on the street. This would be the punctum to me as it pricks me as

a Spectator; it makes me wonder if the artist is intending to use the photo as inspiration rather

than for replication.

This photograph offers a unique opportunity which allows the Spectator to analyse both

the mural and the photo itself. For me, the studium of the mural is the mother’s gaze toward her

child. Her face is not particularly expressive, but the gaze insinuates motherly love and

attentiveness. The punctum, I define as the eyes of the child because the longer I looked at the

mural, the more I noticed—they are unproportionate, one is bigger than the other. Maybe this is

due to the angle of the child’s face in the mural, or the angle at which I took the photo, but once

you see it, you cannot unsee it. However, the punctum and studium may be different if the mural

were finished.

Barthes’ method of interpreting photos encouraged me to dig deeper and really analyse

the content. Instead of situating yourself in history like Berger, observation is more subjective

and dependent on the Spectator. As Spectators we are all shown the same thing, but we may

leave with very different interpretations. For the photos I took, I enjoyed reliving the moment,

but also reflecting on the actual photograph. Overall I found it beneficial to identify the studium

and punctum as I spent more time pondering the pictures, and it strengthened the idea that

photography is art.