'The enigmatic side of photojournalism has always existed. But it's a dirty little secret'
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The moment I saw the 2016 World Press Photo of the Year by Warren Richardson, I was immediately reminded of another winning photo from 45 years ago.
National Geographic photographer (later editor) Wilbur E. Garrett won the Magazine Photographer of the Year award in 1969 for his portfolio, which included this image from the Vietnam War. Despite the obvious similarities between the two photos, the hallmarks of modern photojournalism can be seen in the differences.
Garrett's photo from Vietnam tells a straightforward story. The distressed mother pleads with the soldier to help her baby.
Richardson's photo from the Hungarian-Serbian border asks more questions than it answers. Is the man passing or receiving the baby? Therefore, does he represent the migrant perspective or the European perspective? On which side of the fence is the camera? Will the man follow or is he giving up the baby? Where is the mother? Where are the thousands of other refugees we have read about? Ambiguity is shunned in journalism, but it is a hallmark of contemporary visual storytelling.
Photojournalism is just beginning to come to terms with its inherent paradox between specificity and ambiguity.
On one side, news photos represent the most important underlying characteristics of journalism. They are infinitely descriptive, showing exactly what took place, who was doing it, and where it happened. With a good caption, they can also tell when and how. News images provide specific, incontrovertible proof. In this sense they are the perfect tool for journalism.
On the other side, the most impactful, and award-winning, photojournalism images break the basic rules of journalism.
Images like Richardson's illustrate that photographs are much more powerful when they aren't specific. The man's face is visible, and would be recognizable by friends and family. But to the vast majority of viewers he is anonymous, just one of a seemingly unending string of refugees facing a difficult journey.
The caption doesn't provide names. This anonymity allows this specific man and baby to stand in and represent the larger European refugee crisis.
The enigmatic and artistic side of photojournalism has always existed. But as journalism's dirty little secret, it was often not discussed openly. Now the artistic side of photojournalism is finding more acceptance in contemporary practice, and the profession and the audience will be better for it.
By not denying how and why the strongest images work, we arm ourselves as consumers of imagery against the visual onslaught of modern existence, and open ourselves up to feeling compassion and recognizing the humanity of those shown in news images. The viewer-subject relationship has the potential to be redefined.
The word "photojournalism" was coined shortly after World War II to describe a new style of representing events using images. It sought to capture unposed, candid storytelling moments. The idea was not just to witness the action, but to bring the viewer into it as a participant.
Perhaps today it is time to replace "photojournalism" with a new word for the modern visual reporting that strives to show not only what something looked like, but also the photographer's emotional understanding of the scene and its participants at the moment the image was created.
Stanton Paddock is an assistant professor of photojournalism in Concordia's Department of Journalism.