Photography and Writing

“Davey’s predilections as a writer echoes those she displays as an artist.”—Brian Sholis 

Photography and writing comes together in Moyra Davey's works. It occured to me, after a painful night at this year's edition of Art Taipei, a frustrating morning with Gertrude Stein, and a quick run to the photo developement shop just now, that perhaps I, too, am a writer first and foremost, and a photographer second. 

I have always struggled to express my obsession with abstract lines, shapes, and textures. I find these in contemporary art as well as poetry, and cherish the experience of looking at them--intensely--until they are fixed to my retinas. Is not this a kind of photography? The pleasure of this looking is extraodinarily similar to the pleasure of looking through a viewfinder. I lose the sense of time and space, and the pleasure of encountering this visual feast gushes forth from deep within my body. 

The distinction, of course, is that photography has an end goal. It all stops with the shutter--and you are satisfied (or not). That teleological drive both excites me and terrrifies me. It is not unlike how I feel when I'm tasked with reviewing art or literature. The stress of producing a perfect composition--of traveling steadily towards the asymptotic heights--weighs me down and threatens to engulf the pleasure. 

What about writing? Ah, that has to do with the pleasure of the text. I simply adore text: the look of them in blocks or in lines, the way they become meaningful or atmospheric, the traces they leave behind through time...creating text gives me pleasure. Even simply transcribing or typing give me pleasure. 

And is this not also similar to the pleasure derived from looking at art? I indulge myself in the sensuous engagement of the object, becoming transfixed and transported with ineffable results. 

For me, literary research is the combination of the two: looking and writing. On the other hand, reading what I have written can be anxiety-ridden--that's the hump I must climb at the moment. Leaning on my strengths, I should think, is the best way forward: Looking and writing; and writing and looking. After all, I am not a researcher. I am a writer first, and a photographer second.