I have a friend who is an environmental scientist. Whenever he sends me a personal letter it is always in the form of an inkjet printout. Even in the eighties long before the proliferation of digital technology the perfect uniform pages would arrive in the mail. Even the addresses on the envelopes would be computer generated and needless to say the postage stamp was missing only to be replaced by a franking mark from the large corporation he worked for. But there was one personal touch. Under the printed 'yours sincerely' was always his hand written signature. The experience of his letters- not withstanding the content - always left me feeling somewhat cheated. If he had written it on a typewriter my experience would have been heightened by the indents of a key striking the paper or the intervention of a misaligned font would have given me great joy. But all I was left with was a feeling of disembodiment from my friend. I had strange scenarios running through my head of him dictating this letter to his secretary and scribbling his signature as he rushed out the office to attend his latest power meeting. Or even worse visions of him telling his secretary to dash off a letter to me - after all, these letters were filled with such homogenised small talk they were non-specific to the point of being almost tedious and uninteresting. Not one of these letters has survived so none have been entered into my collection of memorabilia. This I imagine is I suppose because of my non-attachment to the actual object, the letter. Nothing would let me into the object. Nothing screamed at me that I was special, this experience needs to be remembered, I deserve to be remembered. Sometime later, in 1995, I went to stay with this friend and his wife in Chicago. I remember sitting in his study when he opened a letter from a mutual friend, now based in the Philippines. The letter contained the usual discussions of health, wealth and plans for the future. As my friend unfolded it I could see that it was on recycled paper and hand written. There were clear marks where erroneous tracts had been scrubbed out. One stream of thought considered then rejected for another. The taupe recycled paper made me wonder what life it had led before it had be assigned to its present task. Perhaps some top-secret government secret? Or merely a memo requesting more HB pencils? The 'not knowing' made the letter even more enticing as an object. I could imagine finding the letter years later having fallen down the back of a drawer and could see myself studying the colourful foreign stamps. Time eroding back in this moment and then further back again to the time I spent in the writer's company years before. But my nostalgic daydream was shattered by what happened next. My friend, upon finishing the letter tore the envelope in two, dropping the pieces in a nearby waste paper bin. He reached into a desk drawer, produced a stapler and stapled the pages of the letter together. He then moved over to a large grey metal filing cabinet, opened it and thumbed through a few files until he reached one clearly labelled. He then inserted the letter into a cluster of paper and closed the filing cabinet closed with a sound I can only describe as the scraping of a metal cell door. For the rest of the evening all I could think about was whether or not my letters had earned the same fate. I don't know why I was so disturbed by the event but I knew I was projecting my feelings and emotions onto a situation that was not only out of my control but was in all intents and purposes trivial. I just couldn't get the letter out of my mind so the next day when he was a work I finally gave way to temptation and decided to search the cabinet. With a begrudging creak the cabinet slid open. There were perhaps thirty separate files in the drawer each with a first name and an initial signifying surname. I quickly found mine that contained many, many letters. There were no envelopes to protect the content from spilling out into the world. Nothing to signify the distance or journeys the letters had come. They were placed in reverse numerical order- the latest at the front, the oldest at the back. It felt strange reading my own letters. My handwriting was so familiar but also distant and awkward. It was like a part of myself I no longer owned. Whenever I had written letters I had imagined that the recipient was reading the words the very moment they left my pen and that posting them sent them out into the ether. I was never concerned with their arrival. But these letters were anchors. Not in the sense that they were in a foreign port, though I did see the filing cabinet as an enemy. More I believe as markers of a time and a place. That the trail had led them to this place was somehow very disturbing to me. But what could I do? If I simply removed them imprisonment would most likely continue, albeit it in another location. So I did the only thing I thought appropriate at the time - I took them into the backyard and burnt them. The missing letters have never come up and from that time I have only ever communicated with him by phone. Our friendship remains. January 10th, 2005 Just who do you think you are?
Photographs are one of the more ubiquitous objects of the 21st c and are everywhere. They affect way the way we view and thereby experience the world but also how we view ourselves. For those of us who choose to live and interact with others within society they give us a sense of identity and a sense of where we 'fit' and how we use them in both private and public ways. The question being asked in this research arises from an investigation into what is 'self' and where might it come from? How is it sensed and is it different from that of others? How does perception differ from one to another? While this has become a topical debate for cultural studies researchers, artists have also needed to undertake close scrutiny if they wish to engage with others and for their work to have social relevance. Such rigorous self-examination can be undertaken in various ways, some of which are ambiguous, some of which are exhibitionist, some which are more open-ended and incomplete but always the process is on-going and changing. In this context the photographer as documenter has a significant role to play, albeit sometimes from a distance. There are several parts to our persona however the most distinct are those related to 'self' and to 'identity. The 'self' is an internal manifestation, our inner understanding of who and what we are and provides us with a sense of reality. As such it is formulated from life experiences such as family ancestry, community, education and activities alongside genetic links to our parents and beyond. These linked experiences, both passive and active, formulate an internal template that we apply, consciously or unconsciously, to all situations we encounter. This matrix forms our ethics, morals, beliefs and conscience and outlines how we think of ourselves for example character traits, personality, persona, and what we believe ourselves to be - kind, generous, fair. The other, our 'identity', is the external part of our persona. Even though we would like to believe we are in control of this, this is far from reality. Identity is primarily formed by those we both interact and need to communicate with, and lies in their perception of us through a range of responses and exchanges. Our reactions to situations, people and our environment influence others perception of us. These people in turn influence others and through this rippling affect our identity is formed. That some of these perceptions might not tell the complete story is the core of this research. Subjectivity helps us understand how we are connected to others by suggesting the' self' is not an isolated entity and can legitimately be used in a range of art practices to explore such passive activities as observing, capturing, sensing and documenting as well as identifying shared experiences and beliefs. There is a point of intersection of these two states of self-awareness. 'True' self-awareness, (if there can ever be such a complete thing) can be a terrifying prospect, as it requires an introspective truthfulness that few are willing or able to achieve. It requires the individual to investigate and understand oneself in ways that are often harsh, deeply personal and often painful. So too can more revealing understandings assist with the process and influence one's understanding of identity and how to gain some control over what are sometimes immoveable and unalterable perceptions. But beyond that it requires one to address the rift between the two – the private and the public, the inner and the outer – to achieve some sense of integration. In relation to contemporary photography, much of what is undertaken is somewhat simple and uncomplicated despite the richness of the experience. There can be no clear definitions and often the questions being asked remain incomplete. The use of such a field as photography therefore, because of its immediate image capturing capabilities, has been extremely successful at communicating in an unspoken way. Religions or beliefs such as Buddhism or Taoism observe that through awareness of our surroundings and an awareness of ourselves and our actions, we can achieve inner balance, harmony and happiness but this is a somewhat questionable position given that at no time in history has the question of “identity” been under more scrutiny than at present. With the advent of the Internet, personal information that had previously been inaccessible to the general public is easily located. By simply placing someone's name and general location into a search engine we can access their address and phone number, and as sophisticated computer hackers have shown us, other personal and financial material. For a small fee we can get a printout of credit, criminal, education and employment records. This information in its original paper based form would have been widespread and separate. However since the ongoing move to a paperless society this information has been digitised and centralised in large interactive databases. We are told that this information is safe and secure and can only be accessed by those with proper authorisation. But who authorises, what criteria is used and what use is the material put to? Due to the increasing threat of world-wide terrorist, proof of identity has become a major issue especially at international boarders and airports. New forms of digitised passports have been issued and these not only carry photographic and fingerprint identification but also include Biometric information. In this new identification process the coloured flecks and marks that occur in the iris of our eyes have been discovered to be are unique to each individual. The individual is requested to look into a scanning device that reads the anomalies in the iris and searches a database for a matching identity. Another form of identity scan is that of Biometric measurement. The dimensions of an individual's facial structure, size of nose, mouth, width of eyes etc are scanned and recorded in their passport. This information is also sent to an international central database where it can be accessed. When an individual passes through the immigration gate they are scanned and this information is compared to that digitally stored within the passport and in the database. This compared to the iris scan has major flaws. It was introduced at Sydney International Airport on the 29th January 2003. After much public debate at an official demonstration on the 27th of February 2003, two men purposely swapped passports and walked through the gate without setting off the security system. There is continued discourse between the European Union countries and the US government about the control of the use of this passport information. The US Homeland Security stance is: (1)

We anticipate that the system will be capable of scanning travel documents and taking fingerprints and pictures of foreign nationals, which then could be checked against databases to determine whether the individual should be detained or questioned concerning possible terrorist or criminal involvement. This information will be made available only to authorized officials for official duties, including identifying non-immigrants who may have overstayed their visas or otherwise violated the terms of their admission, assisting in the adjudication of immigration benefits, and assisting other federal, state, and local law enforcement agencies as necessary.(2)

The European Union were concerned that the possibility of United States law enforcement organizations (and not just border control) would have access to information meant for immigration processing only. The EU is adamant that personal information must stay within the passport itself and therefore under control of its owner. Frits Bolkestein representative of the European Commission wrote:

We are concerned here about fundamental rights and liberties which are constitutionally protected in the law of several Member States. These liberties are fiercely cherished in the European Union. Furthermore, political support for them, which will shortly lead to them being enshrined in the European Constitution, is already backed by strong jurisprudence from both the European Court of Justice and the European Court of Human Rights. Europe and the US share the same basic values as regards civil liberties. You are probably tired of having Franklin quoted at you on "temporary security", but it is hard to disagree with him. I therefore believe that a mature consideration of these requests at a political level will ensure that they find a positive echo. Indeed, I sincerely hope that this will be the case since, if current efforts fail, we risk a highly charged trans-Atlantic confrontation with no obvious way out. Such confrontations are best avoided. Where efforts to combat terrorism are concerned, it is even more important that we show a solid front, but that we do so in a way that does not undermine the very values we are defending.(3)

The US government is pressuring for all information of international passport to be held in a central database and that presentation of the passport activates the retrieval of this data. The EU fears may not be unfounded since the amount of Internet identity fraud has increased alarmingly over the last decade. The removal however, of hard copy forms of documentation into digital only databases at first thought to be benignly beneficial, may come back to haunt us. If all our official identification information is placed in one central location and enquires access only that single strand of information, we need to ask what other checks are in place to give a more accurate or truthful reading. If false information is entered either deliberately or by accident into the digital system, what chance do we have of protecting our identity and our complex self? While a wealth of literary fiction has explored this topic, movies that foretold such an occurrence as 'The Net'(4), originally seemed like projections of George Orwell's insightful '1984'(5). This 1995 movie The Net coincides with the beginning of the expansion and universal acceptance of the Internet as a digital highway. The storyline of this populist movie is that the main character, Angela Bennet (Sandra Bullock) is a computer 'de-bugger' who accidentally receives a computer disc of incendiary data that others desperately want, are willing to kill for. Unable to catch her they infiltrate government databases and change her official identity to that of a wanted criminal. Many more movies in this genre have followed and this decade old film illustrates the common fear individuals have of identity theft. To have one's identity totally eradicated from the individual creates a curious situation where the imagined 'real' is the digital representation and the flesh and blood character the fake. In the digital world this is so easy to do. Remember sammy jankis?
Just like a camera, our mind is our internal recording device and memory our film. There are many examples of the similarities between these – a container, an image bank or a library, and parallels when things go wrong. Both can freeze an instant but store material for future review or modification and both can alter, distort and extract information in similar ways. As we age, memories, in particular visual ones, will remain the same as they did in that first moment, with that conscious understanding. We will have the same image again so the friend who boarded a plane will be our lasting visual reference of them until we meet again. Even if we remain in contact with them by mail or phone, in our mind they will forever be that person who got on that plane carrying a backpack and a copy of a Lonely Planet. Years later, when we meet them face-to-face, a new recording of them will replace the one in our mind, and, the person we once knew, will be replaced by another. Some parts of this person will be familiar and comfortable, while other parts will be new and alien. In a strange way what we experienced at school dies when we attend a reunion and our feelings, emotions and memories of those long lost friends are replaced by the memories conjured up by encountering their adult selves – their changed persona. The exact way that the human mind translates an experience into a permanent memory is not fully understood and remains somewhat of a mystery. But even more curious is how that memory materialises when we experience a retrieval cue – a cue in whatever shape our senses privilege. For example, many artists emphasis sight and their eyes record the most information, for others the lesser-used senses, sound, taste, and smell, are employed in various and differing degrees. If we try to liken the mind to a computer we quickly see how complex human memory is and how digital technology has captured so many people. A computer is 'rope fed' information that is in binary code. There are no vagaries or subjectivity in this process - just facts and actions. These are placed in a linear organised format for easy and unified storage and retrieval. The file (memory) can only be accessed by one specific structured command and the information will be relayed back exactly as it was first stored. The human mind and memory on the other hand are almost totally lacking in format. Firstly a memory maybe constructed from an experience of any of the five senses described - for myself the smell of Finesse shampoo will always mean American Summer camps. Although research is close to solving this question of exactly where memory might be physically situated in the brain, no one specific place has been agreed upon. We do however know the brain is a storehouse of, and for our memories and that retrieval of information is undertaken in numbers of ways –constructed and focussed on or accidental and serendipitous. The latter might be because of the different senses that formed the initial memory or could relate to one being the retrieval cue needed to revive and remember it. However, the greatest difference between human and computer memory is the part that the mind plays in the retrieval process. Unlike computers the human mind will not necessarily store an exact copy of the information inputted. Peripheral or superfluous information may be altered and modified into to a more 'acceptable' version or swiftly deleted all together. Whenever we re-encounter or experience something again, the mind scans the situation in order to establish if we have been in this situation previously. If so our previous memory will be used to elicit a response to this new situation that in turn forms a new memory. These memories of past encounters and our reaction to them build upon each other and form our personality and our worldview.

In a nutshell, it is the idea that the structure of the human mind shapes all sensory experience and thought. The mind has an active role in producing our concept of reality by acting as a filter, an organiser and an enhancer.(6)

Imagine if I handed you an unfamiliar photograph and asked to explain it. Since this image is unknown to us, we would look for signifiers within the frame to aid our understanding of it and to help formation an interpretation or analysis. These clues may include written statements, the scene depicted, style of clothing, the style of photography, the relationship between the subject and the photographer or even the physical condition of the photograph itself. But these clues would mean nothing unless we have some prior knowledge from which to make a comparison. The explanation that you would offer me about the photograph would originate and be constructed entirely from your memory (and your imagination). The interpretation placed would be dependent on which memories were triggered by the photograph itself (and its visual components) and some might well emerge from the subconscious. Such archival scouring may trigger responses that seem irrational or unexplainable while others might give a reasonably accurate analysis. If we have no memory to help rationalise and understand what we see, the mind begins to question why this stands outside our knowledge. The conclusion it reaches forms new memories that have been attached to the experience and 'logged on.' Can we argue that if a specific memory isn't strong or vital enough it will fade and die or do we accept that memory only exists when activated? If information could not be stored in this a state of indeterminable hibernation, we would soon be crushed by the enormity of accumulated thoughts and memories. But what if the opposite were to happen? What if memories just cannot be held? One example of how disease or trauma can affect memory is anterograde amnesia. This infliction prevents an individual from forming new memories from immediate activities, experiences or emotions. An outcome of this is for the individual to be held in a constant state - the past. Here the world never changes and one is forever frozen at the last 'memory-point'. However, knowledge and experiences gained before the onset of the amnesia remains intact and memories can still be retrieved and used. While one of the manifestations of this illness would appear to lean towards repetitive acts, another more problematic scenario is the way perception becomes fixed and advanced communication difficult. The movie Memento(7) depicts such a situation and reveals how an individual struggles to cope with the situation and what strategies are put in place to aid memory retrieval. The central character Leonard Shelby (Guy Pearce) sustains anterograde amnesia in an attack in which his wife was raped and supposedly killed. The driving force is for him to find the killer. However any new experiences are erased from his memory before they can be locked in and he is in a constant state of slipping backwards in time. To combat his memory loss and give him a way forward he utilises two main tools to compensate for his condition. The first is a series of word-based tattoos that inform him of his mission. The most important tattoo is on the back of his left hand and simply reads 'Remember Sammy Jankis'. Sammy was an individual that Leonard knew before his amnesia that suffered from the same condition. This reminder continually alerts Leonard to his present situation. The second tool used by Leonard, are Polaroid photographs. These instant images are used make records of important locations and people. However, the photographs by themselves are meaningless and must be augmented with written descriptions of their significance and what or whom they depict. Leonard's reality has moved from the internal construction of his mind to the external group of images he carries in his pocket.

I have to believe in a world outside my own mind. I have to believe that my actions still have meaning, even if I can't remember them. I have to believe that when my eyes are closed, the worlds still there. Do I believe the worlds still there? Is it still out there?... yeah. We all need mirrors to remind ourselves of who we are. I'm no different.(8)

You press the button, we do the rest.(9)
In 1888 George Eastman launched his “Kodak” camera and with it the birth of amateur photography. The original 'Kodak' camera came loaded with 100 shots for $1. The camera didn't contain film as we know it, rather a long roll of light sensitive paper negative. The price included processing and contact prints from the negatives, and, for an additional 10cents, the camera was returned reloaded with another 100 shots. Photography up until this time had only been in the hands of professionals and passionate devotees. Only those that were willing to deal with the cumber-some equipment and toxic chemicals would participate in the medium and therefore it was understandable that these new, and totally self-contained small cameras removed all the technicalities from the activity and appealed to a new audience. This increased the number of amateur photographers who wished to capture their daily lives by giving instant pleasure and uncomplicated accessibility. Photography rapidly went from the formal occasion of the professional family portrait, mostly in a 'constructed' studio setting, to the spontaneous snapshot an outdoor social event. People who travelled could photograph themselves at 'famous' tourist places rather than buying a stereotypical postcard as a visual reminder of an experience or event – a memento. Family photo albums began to swell with images of every day life and the mode of documentation and communication of personal histories changed considerably. Thumbing through such photographic albums with their illustrated pages and 'postcard-like appearance', common themes of memory, remembering and nostalgia can be recognised. The new car, the family pet, the beach, and the big fish are all recurring narratives in my parents and grandparents' albums and reoccur in many others seen in friends and family homes. Many families also had (often secreted away) the ubiquitous shoebox full of family photos, letters and souvenirs, these 'memories' however tended to be less available and the container hidden or concealed. Events recorded on photographs could be shared with those unable to attend. On the back of images might be written the place, date and the names of those pictured however much of this was erratic and abbreviated. Gallery, museum and library historians, researchers have learnt to investigate a wide range of information rather than relying on just one source. Present day family genealogists use information such as this to reconstruct family histories so that the visual component might sit alongside both written and oral accounts. The photograph was seen as proof of existence and gave a chronological (and therefore linear) history of individuals – citing those known and often those listed as 'unknown'. It is a tangible object that, through its physical presence, links us to the past and inserts us into history. However the photographic object would appear now to be a diminishing signifier as the means of recording, documenting and capturing memories has evolved in such a rapid way that finding a source to process and print black and white photographs is almost non-existent. Over a hundred years further on from the 'Kodak', photography has changed from the use of film to the use of digital technology - cameras that use electronic based media. While not all have readily accepted this rapid change, the structure of society has also changed and few are willing to wait to have their film processed. Even though film processing is now almost immediate (but more costly), for some that is still too long. The public demand an instantaneous response and through digital cameras they can review immediately what they have captured. What has been overlooked in this urgency is that the digital picture file is not the final outcome of the image and further time is needed to store, print or send the image to another person. It takes considerable understanding and expense to obtain good quality lasting prints from the home ink-jet printer and Mark Strange, senior conservator at the Alexander Turnball Library in Wellington says, “I've no doubt there are going to be blind-spots in the pictorial memory of the early digital era."(10) The effect this new shift in technology will have on the way the photograph is regarded, as 'memento', is as significant as it is disturbing. Of parallel concern for social researchers and historians is the fear that value of domestic collections, of which this country has many, will no be available to enlarge and expand upon knowledge in an inclusive way. The complexities of digital technology, and the need to maintain current software and equipment for a moving platform such as this, is generally lost on the new digital photographer and one might suspect that much information will be lost by a lack of commitment and understanding of the technology. Most digital cameras allow the shooting and storage of large amounts of images and these can be instantly reviewed using an inbuilt display. Of concern to many photographers is that history can be altered in significant ways. This can occur accidentally through file corruption and by poor storage or by using the editing capability too quickly and losing images forever. A much more uncomfortable and problematic example of editing however is the image that doesn't quite have the 'requisite smile' or show one's 'best side'. This instant critique and erasure raises questions with regard to the photograph as a signifier of a history – both cultural and domestic. Annette Kuhn poses the following question:

Family photographs are supposed to show not so much that we were once there, as how we once were: to evoke memories which might have little to do with what is actually in the picture. The photograph is a prop, a prompt, and a pre-text: it sets the scene for the recollection. But if a photograph is some-what contingent in the process of memory – production, what is the status of the memories actually produced?(11)

Conscious erasures or deletions can be considered as a sterilization or sanitisation of information. The use of photographic film means that all the 'out takes' still exist and available for retrieval if required. At the same time we need to accept that the selection criteria for what is used and what is not or the significance of a particular image, may change over time. The criteria for a wedding photograph for example may be that of smiles on a joyous occasion. If for example we were using a digital camera to document such an event, any images that fall outside the criteria could easily be deleted to make more room for those that did. However if a film camera were being used all the outtakes would still exist if only in negative form. Some time later perhaps, these negatives might be recovered and reviewed using different selection criteria, for example, the death of a relative or the dismantling of a historic building. Images previously been overlooked might possibly, in a changed context, have added importance and new memories activated and absorbed in the process. Digital images are clean. No scratches, no dust, erosion or decay. Seen on a monitor they will forever be fresh. They will never gain the patina of age or history like a well-thumbed photographic print. They will never give the joy of the tactile experience. Every time they are brought up on the screen it is like time has stood still. There cannot be any unconscious evidence left by the viewer. For an image to be classified as a photograph it must exist in the real world. It must have substance and not merely be pixels on a screen. It must be able to be touched and felt. Though the image depicted within the photograph is frozen and lifeless, the photographic itself as object is a living entity that is nourished and grows with every crease and stain. The action of the photograph is to pluck moments out of time. It can never show the present nor the future but only the past. Photographs are, therefore, eternally the souvenir or memento even at the moment of creation they are of the past. But that past is not static or universal and neither is the photograph. History lies outside the photograph, it is the catalyst that triggers memory, a memory that is lying dormant within the viewer. This memory may have no specific relationship to the information depicted within the photograph but some quality the photograph contains will return the individual to that remembered past. Susan Stewart writes:

We do not need or desire souvenirs of events that are repeatable. Rather we need and desire souvenirs of events that are reportable, events whose materiality has escaped us, and events that thereby exist only through the invention of narrative. Through narrative the souvenir substitutes a context of perceptual consumption for its context of origin. It represents not the lived experience of its maker but the 'second hand' experience of its possessor/owner.(12)

Serious photographers, amateur and professional, may be comforted to know there are cameras appearing on the market with both film and digital capabilities however, what still remains are questions of disclosure, preservation and above all the photographic object as memento and an unavoidable solipsistic expression of the self. 1 - The Australian National Business Review , March 4th 2003, web edition.
2 - Fact Sheet: US-VISIT Program, The Department of Homeland Security.
3 - Letter from Frits Bolkestein, Member of the European Commission to US Secretary of Homeland Security, Tom Ridge (12 June 2003).
4 - The Net (1995), written by John B Brancato & Michael Ferris, directed by Irwin Winkler, starring Sandra Bullock.
5 - Orwell, G, 1948, 1984, Published in 1948 and set thirty-six years into the future, Orwell's dark vision of the future is a chilling depiction of how the power of the state could come to dominate the lives of individuals through cultural conditioning. The main character Winston Smith's individual personality is wiped out and recreated not just to obey, but to love 'Big Brother.' www.enotes.com/1984/.
6 - Dorbolo, Jon, Oregan State University, Department of Philosophy website www.oregonstate.edu/instruct/phl201/modules/Philosophers/Kant/kant.html
7 - Memento, 2000, written by Christopher and Jonathon Nolan, directed by Christopher Nolan, starring, Guy Pearce, Carrie-Anne Moss and Joe Pantoliano
8 - Ibid. Final monologue by Shelby in Memento.
9 - Kodak advertising slogan 1888.
10 - New Zealand Herald, Jan 15th, 2005
11 - Kuhn, A 2003, Remembrance - the child I never was, in Wells, L, Ed., The Photographic Reader, Routledge, London, pp. 395 – 396
12 - Stewart, S, 1998, On Longing: Narratives of the Miniature, the Gigantic, the Souvenir, the Collection, Duke University Press, p. 135