I finished this week reading a dense criticism by Walter Benjamin on Charles Baudelaire. I am surprised I actually got my head around it, however it did take me four hours to read six pages. The ideas are very interesting; in particular Baudelaire’s emotional attachment to the past which as a result, he never moves forward from. He was very much against viewing photography as an art form because he believed a simple snapshot of a person lacks any insight into the artist’s soul. Benjamin stated daguerreotypy to be an ‘important achievement in society’ (ch. 11, 1992) because a photograph is a permanent record of a single moment in time, better than a painting of events long since passed or a smell which conjures memories no further than the mind’s eye.
What brings me closer to my parents, this photograph or walking past a house using the same laundry detergent as they do? Can I be called an artist for hiding in the trees and capturing this moment with a single movement of my finger? Does the amount of effort expended equate to artistic integrity?
Walter Benjamin (1992) 'On Some Motifs in Baudelaire' from Illuminations. Fontana, London.