Vh1 vs. the Democratic Camera
I love reality TV. I watch all of the “of Love” shows. I care (a bit too much, honestly) about who became the next Master Pick-Up Artist. I’m pulling for Jeff Conaway to get clean this time around.
Last Friday, I was surprised to find one the philosophical foundations for my love at the Whitney in William Eggleston’s retrospective. Eggleston’s photos capture the world as it unfolds around him. They’re seemingly spontaneous moments, meticulously composed and dyed. The pictures take on a depth that the reality never had. The banal becomes iconic. The humdrum, haunting.
Like his photos, Eggleston’s videos record everyday moments. But unlike the pictures, these movies are largely unseen. Perhaps because of their obscurity, they are the most striking part of the show. Eggleston used one of the first handheld video cameras to capture an eccentric cast of his friends, family and other heavy drinkers. Subjects mostly seem to range from drug-induced mayhem to drug-induced revelry. While spectacles, these events are not spectacular. They lack a coherent narrative, and the subjects of his videos are “no bodies” not celebrities. The videos are home movies made for the public. They are proto-reality programming.
Eggleston, in his “democratic” gaze that saw everything in front of a camera as photo worthy. The idea that the mundane and the real can become art, or entertainment, has radically shaped our media environment. Critics credit Eggleston for forever changing photography, but we have to give him a nod for indelibly altering how we spend our Monday nights too.
