Leaving a trace
Benjamin Franklin’s idiom “in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes” may well have been relevant back in 1789, however as some individuals and businesses over the years have circumnavigated taxation systems, therefore it could be argued, the only true certainty is death.
The recent passing of a very close family member resulted in the requirement to take a key role in the management of their personal affairs. One of the matters I attended to, was ensuring their death was formally recorded at the Registrar’s office. At the conclusion of my appointment, their passing now formed part of a formal record containing the two points in time they entered and left this world.
As well as making me briefly think about my own mortality, it also had me pondering the question about how we make our respective impressions between these two points on our own timeline. How we leave our own mark will very much be based on what we do with our lives and the contributions or impacts that we make.
In the context of my professional career within the fire and rescue service, I would suspect approaching the 6th year of my retirement, there is now very little tangible evidence of the many contributions or impacts I made over the course of my 30 years’ service. Documents that I authored will either have been updated by a new author or have been replaced entirely, actions or deeds undertaken by me will probably now be forgotten. Emails and memorandums that I sent, or records of meetings I attended, or the comments made at these meetings will either be archived or more likely moved to file B1N. All that remains will possibly be an official record of the occasions I took charge of operational incidents attended over the duration of my career. I am content with this position, as serving and protecting the communities was a key driver in joining the fire and rescue service, so there may be at least some trace of that reason d’etre remaining but who knows how long this may be the case.
In contemplating life in general, I also thought about the progression of my photography over the past few years and where my journey has taken me to date and what I have accomplished since I began to turn a casual pursuit into a core part of my life. In the last few years, I have been fortunate to have seen some of my work recognised within various fora which has opened me up to some new experiences. The most recent was being part of the Prix de la Photographie, Paris (PX3) 2023 exhibition as a result of 2 of my images picking up silver and bronze awards in architectural categories last year. The exhibition commenced its’ run in Paris, so I took the opportunity to travel to Paris to see my work within the exhibition and since that visit, my images have been viewed in Budapest and Athens as part of the PX3 exhibition programme.
Whilst in Paris, I visited some of the famous locations around the city, including the Louvre which had been on my bucket list for a long time. Wandering around the various areas of the gallery, it was enriching to see the works of individuals who are no longer alive but have left behind a tangible legacy for others to enjoy and appreciate their creative achievements.
With regards to my photography, I view this primarily as a personal endeavour and doubt it will be viewed by the masses in the longer term but with the exposure my work has gained in the short term, it has made me think how my work might be seen in years to come. Adam Karnacz (First Man Photography) recently touched upon the subject of creating and printing images that he hoped one day would be discovered by his great grandchild and this resonated with my own feelings about my own work.
The digital age may offer some possibilities to enable others to see our creative achievements, but the digital footprint has its own vulnerabilities. If your work is stored off-site on a server, be it a social media entity or a website host for example, then there are no safeguards your work will be available for others to see in the future. At home, the vast majority of what we create digitally will remain on a digital storage device and unless there is at least one additional recoverable back up, then there will always be the risk of a cataclysmic loss in the event of a hardware failure which then may result in the erasure of all that was created and subsequently losing that connection to past accomplishments.
With the emergence of Artificial Intelligence (AI), some may see this as an opportunity to explore the possibilities of AI immortality with the digital representation, the characteristics and voice of an individual being recreated to maintain a connection through a simulated experience. From a photography context, it may be conceivable that in years to come both the creator and their creations may be preserved through the medium of AI. Whilst there may well be some merit in using technology to connect to a digital facsimile of an individual, ultimately, the gap between AI and its human point of reference may be one that remains unbridged for some time when it comes to recreating passion, emotion, or the spontaneous reaction that photography engenders.
The limitations or reliance on a digital legacy are reasons why I enjoy reflecting on my work through the medium of print. To me there is a completely different feeling to looking at an image in the printed format compared to its electronic equivalent. Seeing an image in print conveys the completion of a process that begins with the decision of what to capture in camera and is concluded when there is physical evidence of that decision. For the most part, this normally takes the form of single image prints, however I recently tried out a different approach by creating a photography book containing my black and white fine art images. Collating my images into a book format was something I was keen to try and having built up a body of work over the last few years, I was excited to finally encapsulate it in a book format and will hopefully repeat this experience again in the not-too-distant future.
In a photography context, the well-known quote “leave no trace” is a maxim aimed at preserving the environment and promoting an ethical and responsible approach in relation to landscape photography to ensure there is no evidence of your photography impacting on the environment. Whilst I don’t envisage my descendants having the opportunity to interact with me digitally through the medium of AI long after I have pressed the shutter button for the final time in a metaphorical sense, hopefully what I leave behind in terms of my photography work will at least enable them to see a trace of where my photography journey took me and who knows maybe it will inspire one of them to explore their own creative curiosities one day.
Footnote:
The final draft of this blog was completed a few days before news broke online of the sudden passing of Alyn Wallace, a highly respected and talented landscape astro photographer. I had the pleasure of meeting Alyn several years ago and his enthusiasm and passion for his work was clearly evident. There is no question Alyn’s legacy will be enshrined in the array of breath-taking images he created, the tutorials he shared on his YouTube channel and the comprehensive book he published on how to photograph the night sky. I am confident his contribution to the photography community will continue to be a source of inspiration and knowledge for anyone wishing to follow in Alyn’s footsteps for many years to come.
Ad Astra Alyn