What Does Roland Barthes' Work Mean for Photographers Today?

In 1980, philosopher Roland Barthes published a book that would shift our understanding of photography. Drawing on Barthes' words, Jamie Windsor asks the question: How much control do we have over our photographs?

Windsor delves into his archive and reflects on Barthes’ writing as means of questioning how we perceive our images. Can we ever gain emotional distance from what we photograph, or is our engagement with the image-making process always going to make that level of separation impossible? Whatever the answer, it’s certainly interesting to come back to images after a year or two and see them with eyes that have been refreshed by the passage of time.

Camera Lucida is a staple in photography courses around the world, and as Windsor mentions, it’s important to note that Barthes himself was not a photographer — or at least, he was not known as one. One of the most interesting points for me is his take on what it means to sit for a portrait, and how this act of being captured in time is connected with our own mortality. Every photograph reduces a subject to being an object, a process that Barthes seems to find uncomfortable.

The book contains some provocative thoughts which are not explored in great depth but act as points of departure. One of the most interesting points for me is the idea of “future anteriority,” the process by which a photograph of yourself separates you slightly from your sense of who you are, offering a new means of understanding through a medium that brings with it a level of instability.

Has Camera Lucida affected your concept of photography? Let us know in the comments below.

Andy Day's picture

Andy Day is a British photographer and writer living in France. He began photographing parkour in 2003 and has been doing weird things in the city and elsewhere ever since. He's addicted to climbing and owns a fairly useless dog. He has an MA in Sociology & Photography which often makes him ponder what all of this really means.

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4 Comments

Thanks for this, Barthes 1967 essay "The Death of the Author" is also a great read. J F

I would say Barthes book learned me to value snapshots, and I used sentimentality and background knowledge as the approach when culling a lot of old family photos. I also begun understanding why older photos have a more emotional impact on me than the newer, more perfect artwork I see. Photos maybe have to mature in time; they have to create impact on a meta level by the viewer, as with his example of imperfections or the knowledge that «this man will be executed».

I can appreaciate a photo as great, interesting, beutiful, but I need deeper knowledge about the persons, culture, time...I need to create in my mind the right context in which I approach the picture and the story it tells me. I feel that Barthes gave me the tools to explore things I have felt, but couldn’t articulate or direct.

Great comment. Thanks for sharing.

I have never had any interest at all in photographing humans, and don't think I ever will.

My subjects are wild animals, so Barthes' book has a different meaning to me than it does to many other photographers. I take as much control over my photos as I can. Given that they ware wild subjects out in nature, this often leaves me wishing that I could take even more control than I am able to. But I will try to make the scene as beautiful looking as I can, whether it be by yanking out a tall, ugly weed, or breaking off a dead branch, or waiting until my subject turns its head in a certain direction, or whistling loudly to get my subject to look up, or ..... whatever it takes to get the photo to look more like I want it to and less like the messy scene with the uncooperative subject that I first stumble upon.