A work of art, journalism, literature cannot exist without the presence of a viewer. Much of this entire course has been about being the viewer, bringing how we feel and what we know to a photograph, a representation of a single moment in time. A photograph is not the equivalent of truth; a photograph is also a form of portrayal and manifestation of someone’s perception of reality.

In other words, the topics we have discussed throughout this semester seem to be joined by a common thread, an idea iterated by Susan Sontag: a picture is not worth a thousand words. Without context and explanation, a photo can be interpreted to mean anything.

I remember a comment by Ben, while we were examining photos from (I believe) Telex Iran, in which he questioned whether we were perhaps trying a little too hard to find symbolic meaning in these photos. He rightfully shed light on the blurred line between deriving meaning and validating our own interpretations. When do our own opinions become too much? How far should we go in reach for the context of the situation? Where is the line between photography as an art form and photography as documentary evidence? Are documentary photographers not supposed express themselves in their documentations of truth and history?

While I may not have the answers to those questions, I hold onto the lens of Susan Sontag, the mysterious, ambiguous multidisciplinary power of photography. In the questions above, if we seek simple answers, then we underestimate, demarcate the breadth of photography and what we can do. If we draw lines and form cookie-cutter dimensions to the multiple facets of photography, we will only limit its capabilities and potentials to take on different forms–as art, as documentation, as fashion, as entertainment, etc.