[Writer and critic, b. 1895, Flushing, New York, d. 1990, New York.]
A picture was once a rare sort of symbol, rare enough to call for attentive concentration. Now it is the actual experience that is rare, and the picture has become ubiquitous.
Subcommander Marcos (Rafael Sebastian Guillén Vicente)
[Professor and revolutionary, b. 1957, Tampico, Mexico, lives in Chiapas, Mexico.]
For me it is clear that photography prizes should be for those being photographed and not for the photographers.
[Artist and theorist, b. 1931, Kansas City, Missouri, lives in New York.]
There is probably no defense against the malevolent powers of the photograph to convert every visible aspect of the world into a static, consumable image.
[Photographer and political activist, b. 1896, Undine, Italy, d. 1942, Mexico City.]
Always, when the words “art” and “artistic” are applied to my photographic work, I am disagreeably affected. This is due, surely, to the bad use and abuse made of those terms. I consider myself a photographer, nothing more. If my photographs differ from that which is usually done in this field, it is precisely because I try to produce not art but honest photographs, without distortions or manipulations.
[Photographer, b. 1898, Kolozsvár, Hungary, (now Cluj-Napoca, Romania), d. 1963, New York.]
Never pose your subjects. Let them move about naturally... All great photographs today are snapshots. (1935)
[Comedian and performer, b. 1890, New York, d. 1977, Los Angeles.]
I don’t have a photograph, but you can have my footprints. They’re upstairs in my socks. (As Hugo Z. Hackenbush in the film A Day at the Races)
Walter Benn Michaels
[Writer and critic, b. 1948, lives in Chicago.]
What a [Cindy Sherman] photograph shows is an object that has been called into the world by the existence of cameras; the pose, as pose, calls attention to this fact and criticizes the world the camera has made; the camera, then, records this critique.
[Writer, b. 1925, Tokyo, d. 1970, Tokyo.]
This is a photograph, so it is as you see: there are no lies and no deceptions. One can detect here, elevated to an incomparably higher level, the same pathetic emotional appeal that lies concealed in every fake spiritualist photograph, every pornographic photograph; one comes to suspect that the strange, disturbing emotional appeal of the photographic art consists solely in that same repeated refrain: this is a true ghost... this is a photograph, so it is as you see: there are no lies, no deceptions.