Photographic Nostalgia and the Myth of Soulfulness – By Ailbíona McLochlainn

My interest in tableaux photography now spans nearly two decades. And one type of scene I like to enact can perhaps be described as stills from a fictitious 1960s Soviet film set.

When I first began taking these photos, I was armed with a Nikon FM3A camera and Kodak TMax film. In my youthful enthusiasm, I longed to connect with the ‘film community’ – and attempted to do so by going on an online photography forum and posting about my project …whereupon I was immediately told that my equipment was all wrong. Both the camera/ lens I was planning to use, and the film, were too modern. The photos would not look period-correct. But more importantly, they would look clinical. I needed an older, more characterful camera setup – perhaps a Rollei or Yashika. And TriX film. Definitely TriX film! 

Having already used TriX enough to know I disliked it, and conversely having used TMax enough to know it offered exactly the look I was after in combination with my Nikon manual focus lens, I did a polite virtual nod, backed away slowly, and proceeded to do my thing. But this served as my first introduction to the idea of ‘clinical’ vs ‘soulful’ photos being factors of modern vs vintage equipment. Now visiting photography sites 20 years later, I still come across this narrative as if it were an objectively established fact. I disagreed then and I disagree now.

My personal view on the matter can be summarised with the following three points:

1. The ‘soulfulness’ of a photo is at the hands of a photographer’s technique. This includes everything from their ability to effectively compose a shot, to their ability to establish rapport with the subject and strategically pose them, to their grasp of lighting, and their choice of background/ set design.

2. Images generally benefit from the use of technically superior equipment and supplies. For analogue photos, this includes film with minimal grain. And for both analogue and digital, this includes multi-coated lenses made with technology that reduces all manner of aberrations.

3. Relying on artefacts – such as film grain, vignetting, field distortion, excessive bokeh, lens flare, etc. – for ‘character’, results in dated-looking photographs rather than characterful photographs.

The distinction made in Point 3 is at the heart of what I hope to communicate here. I would stipulate that, our nostalgia for the analogue era has created a confusion of sorts – whereby we have come to associate the look of old {usually amateur and technically flawed} photos, with soul and character. But the vintage look of an image and the soulfulness of its subject matter are two separate things. And my personal interest lies in the latter.

Is it possible to define ‘soulfulness’? Of course it is not. And to be clear, my view on all this is by no means meant as prescriptive. The way I see it, the soulfulness of a photograph is in the mood or emotion it evokes, in the sense of subjective narrative it builds. Whereas a so-called clinical photo captures a scene with impartial matter-of-factness, in a soulful photo the scene has been infused with a distinct emotion and a sense of narrative. And while to do so with the aid of lens artefacts or film grain is possible, for me relying on this method feels like a creative crutch. Instead, I have tried to explore the ways in which technique can be used to create characterful images.  And if I haven’t alienated you yet with that point of view, I would like to share some aspects of my process.

To start with: I aim for personal images. It is my belief that, in order to capture a person’s character the person needs to reveal it. 

And to accomplish this, it is essential to develop rapport with the subject. For all the blog posts and forum discussions that focus on the technical aspects of portraiture {and I would include the genres of street portraits, certain types of tableaus, and even event and wedding photography under this umbrella}, I am continually surprised by how few focus on the human factor. If I am photographing an anonymous-to-me model, the photos will look anonymous and impersonal. If I am photographing a person who feels uncomfortable in front of the camera, the photos will likewise reflect that. ‘Bedside manner’ is essential in evoking soulfulness. For me, getting this part right has always been the most important factor in creating characterful images.

Closely related to this, and perhaps more easily under the photographer’s control, is the subject’s pose. As a former research psychologist who specialised in emotion and non-verbal behaviour, I know that posture and gesture – in particular lean and head-tilt – can communicate enormous amounts of emotional content. Doing some research into the topic of nonverbal communication is worthwhile for anyone pursuing this line of creative inquiry.

The background and composition of a photo likewise tend to be an overlooked factor in pursuits of soulfulness. Every element that fills the frame – from lines and negative space, to the symbolic meaning of objects and shapes that surround the subjects – contributes to creating a mood and establishing a narrative. 

Factors such as depth of field play a crucial role here as well. A shallow depth of field can be used effectively to evoke a sense of nostalgia, as it mimics the way our mind’s eye replays a sentimental memory. On the other hand, going overboard with this – to the point that the background is completely obliterated rather than merely out of focus – will result in an artificial tunnel-vision effect that fails to provide the necessary context for a narrative to develop.

In that context, colours matter a great deal as well. Anyone who has ever worked on a film set {I have, albeit very briefly!} knows the importance that is placed on the colours used for every single object present in the frame. This is done not merely to create a pleasing and cohesive colour palette, but to establish a mood. For anyone interested in exploring this topic further, the psychology of colour theory is worth looking into.

Finally, there is the dreaded issue of lighting. And I say ‘dreaded,’ only because I myself work exclusively with natural light and have been resistant, to the point of hysteria, of any suggestion to ‘professionally light’ my photos. However, I eventually came to realise that a preference for natural light did not excuse my wilful ignorance as to how lighting contributes to a photo not only technically but creatively and emotionally. Having learned to understand natural light has helped me tremendously to control the mood of my photos. In the images posted here, for instance, the low light coming in from the side contributes to the nostalgic look of the photos {taken with a recent-production Leica Summarit 35mm – a lens not often accused of ‘soulfulness.’}

Granted, none of these strategies are new or especially surprising. Photographers have been employing them for ages… which is precisely my point. Professional photographers who worked in the analogue era {for lack of a better term}, did not revel in the technical limitations of their equipment, but rather tried to overcome them. They employed the aforementioned strategies, along with other techniques, to create the striking/soulful/ characterful photographs that still affect and amaze us many decades later.

Over the years I have managed to get my hands on various books on Soviet cinema, which contain fairly large reproductions of film stills. I am time and again amazed by the technical quality of those photographs – their sharpness, the liquid-smooth look of the film, the lack of lens-related aberrations. And yet they exude soulfulness in abundance. It is in the twinkle of the eye, in the subtle rise of a shoulder, in the lighting, in the camera angle and composition.

With all that being said… by no means do I intend to imply that I shun, or don’t see the value in, vintage equipment. Neither do I subscribe to the view that recent-production, technically advanced equipment is always ideal {Hamish wrote an interesting article addressing this some time ago – and I don’t disagree}. I routinely use 1970s lenses on my digital camera body. My favourite analogue camera is the Leica IIIf, made in 1951. I own, and use, cameras and lenses from as far back as the 1930s. I also quite enjoy some of the ‘lens artefacts’ I referred to earlier, in particular the field distortion I get from my Zeiss Jena and Helios lenses. I just don’t equate them with character per se. With this article, I merely hope to offer a different perspective; to suggest, as non-pedantically as I can manage to do so, that perhaps there is now a tendency to over-rely on equipment-related artefacts to simulate a look that can more effectively {and authentically} be accomplished by cultivating nuanced techniques… which, in turn, might  make us better photographers and artists.

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Further reading for anyone interested:
The Future of Nostalgia, by Svetlana Boym
Nostalgia: A Psychological Resource, edited by Clay Routledege
Nonverbal Communication, by Albert Mehrabian
Color Codes: Modern Theories of Color in Philosophy, Painting and Architecture…, by Charles Riley

Ailbíona McLochlainn is a photographer, knitwear designer, and recovering academic, based in Ireland. For additional info and images, visit www.ailbiona.com.

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