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| Easton Depp ('19) |
Contrary to my classmate Isaac, I argue that photography detracts from the experience of a historical site similar to the ones we visited in Oxford and London. First, let's be frank here. Of the 100 or so photos you will take, you may revisit 5 to 10 of them. And that is good! There is nothing wrong spending some time to snap a few photos to remember something or to capture a beautiful landscape. Ironically enough, Isaac has some photos of me taking pictures of a site. But the difference can be seen in how the photos were taken. Many of my photos were taken to admire the beauty of a location or of something particularly beautiful to me. On the other hand, Isaac's camera roll is stuffed with endless images that he will never revisit or photoshoots held in the midst of an historical site that he will never get the chance to enjoy again.
Dr. Andrew Rabin, one of the professors who traveled with us, constantly tried to instill the appreciation for the sites we were visiting. He lectured on the meaning behind the sites and discussed the people who had walked the very same halls before us. Nowhere did that resonate more with me than in the halls of Temple Church, a Templar Church in London. The idea of walking in the same footsteps as a templar knight, or potentially even William Marshall himself, was astounding. Then, he shared the fact that this very site was later turned into the Inns of Court: the foundational site of English Common law. To be in the presence of such a momentous location was awe-inspiring. To spend time hiding behind a screen to capture photos seems to reduce some of the magic. There is something in a place that cannot be captured behind a lens, and hiding yourself away behind one means you lose out on it too.
The difference can be illustrated in a conversation Isaac and I had prior to writing our respective blogs. The picture he shared is undoubtedly beautiful, but he was unable to remember any of the details of the location or even the name of it because he had been so engrossed in his photography. He lost out on the meaning of a location in return for a beautiful picture.
There is another facet of photography of a site that one has to consider. En masse, your own photography can affect the experience not only of yourself but of others. Disruptive photography, or (with the rise of smartphones this has become increasingly problematic) mass photography by a group, can ruin the experience for others as well.
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| McConnell Scholars in Oxford |
In my last blog, I wrote about Peru and taking in the experience of it all. One place that was truly difficult to experience was Machu Picchu itself. The constant hordes of people engrossed in photography meant that it was difficult to really appreciate the site until I hiked up beyond the tourist trail and really separated myself from the crowd. Up till that point, I wasn't able to really appreciate the site. Unfortunately on this trip, I think the same can be said for Westminster Abbey. The throngs of people and constant photos made it really difficult to take in any of the site, which is a shame because it was a very beautiful building.
Ultimately, I think that is the tradeoff one has to make. I don't have the fantastic photos that Isaac does, but I do have the memory of the location and its meaning to me. And in my opinion, that is far superior. I may never revisit any of my few photos from the sites, but I will always have the memory of the experience itself.
Nonetheless, I think our conversations about the topic have both shifted us towards the middle. Currently we are both on the China trip, and ironically, I have taken more photos and Isaac has said, and, I quote, "I don't really want to take any photos. I just want to take in the experience."
I may not have won the war, but I have definitely won the battle.