Explanation

When I was in California last week, my 13-year-old niece Olivia asked me out-of-the-blue how a camera works. I stammered to explain, in the simplest terms I could think of, but failed miserably. The mere mention of "light sensitive substrate" and "camera obscura" led to sleepy eyes and diverted teenage attention.  (I didn't even try to explain how a digital camera works, since true understanding of Bayer filters and demosaicing algorithms is well beyond me).

(A "self portrait" by O; she pressed the shutter while I held the camera.)

I should clearly do the good uncle thing and send her an illustrated "Intro to Photography" book.  But if I had this photograph by Abelardo Morrell from 1991 handy, I could at least have explained the "camera obscura" half of the equation:


(By the way, this photograph is currently on display as part of Vic Muniz's wonderful, thought-provoking, delightfully loopy "Artist's Choice" presentation at MoMA. If you take any delight in the visual arts, you will like this show).

And if I had this Man Ray photogram (or "Rayograph"), from 1922 to show her, perhaps the idea of a "light sensitive material" could've been properly conveyed:


It doesn't hurt that the often-ineffable pleasure of photography is illustrated by these images as well.  Come to think of it, I'm not sure what else, apart from pictures themselves, could "explain" the magic of photography, of how pairing a pin-holed box with a light-sensitive material can yield results much greater than the sum of these bare, physical components.

What's that bit from Wittgenstein -- "What can be shown cannot be said"?  A picture can be worth a thousand words, or more, even when the matter is photography itself.