 This
entailed measuring sticks and background grids to be photographed with the naked “specimens.” Standardisation was to be obtained by following detailed
instructions as to how the subject should stand. A profile and a frontal photograph should be made. The subject should stand with heels together
and with the ‘right
arm....out-stretched horizontally, the palm of the hand towards the camera.’ In addition, female “specimens” should be ‘so
disposed as not to interfere with the contours of the breast which is very characteristic in some races.’ Human specimens disassociated
from any reference of culture place and time. Even the body itself is sculpted for, and appropriated by, the camera. In spite of thousands of photographs
the system doesn’t work because the camera sees in perspective. Objective measurement is impossible to achieve by this methodology and the enterprise
only has meaning within the context of who is measuring who and why. What was being measured here was the colonial power differential, how to fit Others
into the pyramid with the white Anglo-Saxon male at the apex. Despite the futility of the system, quasi-scientific photographs - without the grids and
measuring sticks - continued to be made.
The henna-starred hand - transformed into a gesture - reveals the palm as instructed. For a European, the six-pointed star is occupied
territory. A star to guide the wandering Jew? The Death Star of more recent filmic history? A Jewish star on an Aryan hand? |
 |
A chakra symbol on an Indo-Austrian hand? Indo-Germanic. Judeo-Christian. The terms speak of origins we expunge from our myths, categories
which bind together, a linguistic refutation of ethnic cleaning. Dis-orient-ation. The enigmatic configuration of the portrait suggests reclamation of
power rather than subjugation. One thing is certain, even with her eyes closed she has our measure.
Central to this whole configuration is the Western gaze, which, through its alter ego the camera, insists on being everywhere, seeing
everything and registering it according to pre-determined cultural categories. In many contexts this voyeuristic
gaze which unashamedly touches everything  can
be regarded as intrusive, voyeuristic for those on whom it is focussed. Closed eyes most often signify sleep or death, lowered eyes trust and/or submission.
Here in this series, we have people who are clearly alive and their eyes are not closed in submission but, perhaps, in simple dissent. The gesture is
not unambiguous and its ambivalence is nowhere more apparent than in Meet Me in St. Louis, Louis with its optical evocations of hunting, gathering
and exhibiting.
The title derives from a popular
song but from the context is clearly also a reference to people
in the position of Ota Benga. |
