flesh,’’ in turn driven by the ‘‘return of the gods’’
coming from 9 o’clock and its ‘‘theatre of reality.’’
The pure reportage or photojournalism at 3
o’clock does not seem to have reawakened. Interest
in it has further declined in favor of a reflection
upon society that comes from the ‘‘north’’ and a
formalistic (in a positive sense) attribute that comes
from the ‘‘south’’ and is expressed in the pictures of
Joseph Koudelka or in documentary commissions
(Franc ̧ois Hers’s DATAR-projects in France).
Thus, according to the most recent state of
affairs, the 9 o’clock pole has proven to be the
shining victor. Its protagonists were Paul de Nooi-
jer and the Dutch School and elsewhere (in France,
Georges Rousse and Bernard Faucon) have be-
come numerous. By way of the intermediate stages
of social conception in photography (as the team of
Magnum Photos) this pole tends almost to super-
sede traditional reportage. And by way of the
exploration of the material possibilities of photo-
graphic production, the movement leads to the
‘‘direct’’ photograph. For no thinking photogra-
pher today forgets—regardless of how strongly he
may reject any subsequent manipulation of the
picture—that the print which he produces is noth-
ing other than the sum of its tactile value.
All these movements first take form and make
sense in the long view. We should always remem-
ber that contemporary art—in contrast to
science—does not advance more quickly than the
arts of the past. We notice that from 1930 to 1950
the central pole lay approximately at 3 o’clock
(Brassaı ̈, Henri Cartier-Bresson), while today it is
located on the opposite side (at 9 o’clock). And
that in the 1970s, the liveliest points were likewise
opposite each other: 12 o’clock (conceptual artists,
Christian Boltanski) and 6 o’clock (Pierre Cordier,
Jean-Pierre Sudre). The 9 o’clock pole stood at the
beginning of its ascent: Michael Szulc Krzyza-
nowski and others were still lonely exceptions.
And a certain dynamic definitely emanated from
the 3 o’clock pole: Gilles Caron, Gilles Peress,
Carl De Keyzer, David Hurn, Martin Parr, and
many others. The dynamic proceeded ‘‘south’’
(toward 6 o’clock) with William Klein, and
‘‘north’’ (toward 12 o’clock) with Robert Frank,
who finally tipped the balance.
Studying the contemporary photography you
can conclude that both—two major currents—the
‘‘southern’’ and the ‘‘northern’’ supremacies today.
Photographers such as Suzanne Lafont, Crai-
gie Horsfield, Dirk Braeckman, Pentti Sammal-
lahti, Sophie Calle, Thomas Struth, Andreas
Gursky, Anselm Kiefer, David Hockney, Thomas
Ruff, Joan Fontcuberta, Andreas Mu ̈ller-Pohle,
Annette Messager, Peter Fischli and David
Weiss, Wolfgang Tillmans, Bernard Faucon,
Rineke Dijkstra, Pierre et Gilles are to be the
truly great artists of our time, representing the
United Kingdom, Germany, Belgium, the Neth-
erlands, France, Spain, and Finland.
But more than in other art forms, the subversive
and revolutionary strength of photography lies in
the muteness of the forms, and the conceptual
photography of the 1970s lost significance to the
extent that it failed to pose the relevant questions
and denied the material qualities of the work,
because the true artist’s only problems are techni-
cal problems.
As for the future, it appears that it lies at 6
o’clock, in a photography that is supported by
the objective reality of its material forms, after
having forgotten for a moment that in art there
are only material forms. But the philosophical
point of view (12 o’clock) is also lively. At first
sight philosophy and photography appear to be
closely linked, until one checks which philosophers
have written an essay on the topic. Apart from the
major exceptions of Roland Barthes and Walter
Benjamin, hardly any have. This is quite astonish-
ing, but then again it is not. It is not, because
philosophy reflects; it is a re-view that looks back
at what has occurred, and photography is too
recent an event already to be part of the question
of the essence of humankind. This is because
photography displays a similar ambiguity to philo-
sophy. Both show something and are therefore
knowing, but also put a question and are therefore
unknowing. In the Merleau-Ponty vein, philoso-
phy is an unknowing knowing. And ambiguity is
a central element of philosophy. This was formu-
lated somewhat more emphatically by Samuel Ijs-
seling, when he sought to define philosophy in two
opposing statements:
Philosophy is a body of well-founded affirmations and
justifiable denials which altogether display a certain
coherence; it is in other words a ‘‘science.’’ Philosophy
is a body of questions which again and again question
what has already been stated (the entirety of affirmations
and denials); this means it is an un-knowing.
Photography is equally ambiguous. It shows
something, a fragment of reality framed by the
camera or in the darkroom which, considering the
objectivity of the process, can lay significant claim
to factual knowledge. Each one also asks a ques-
tion: what is the reality-value of an image? And
how is the objective de-objectified by the subjectiv-
ity of the maker and the viewer, augmented by the
contextual influences on both? This ambiguity has
EUROPE: AN OVERVIEW, PHOTOGRAPHY IN