The photograph is pinnacle to the transgender community. Where in “real life,” people can look them over and search for the tell from different angles and in different views, a photograph is almost a blanket statement. The transgender subject can pose for a photograph; they control the lighting and position. They make you see what they want you to see. To the transgender subject, gender is not only the “cultural achievement” that Gayle Salamon notes (Salamon, 122), but it is a personal struggle. In the photograph, the transgender person does not have to be trans.
I was thinking about this idea while looking at Jana Marcus’s photograph “Aiden at 25.”
http://www.janamarcus.com/docus/TransPresentation/sld037.htm
Examining the shot, all I see is a man. He does not look twenty-five, but plenty of men do not look their ages. Aiden looks soft, but confident. He tattooed, but also well groomed. It is not until considering that “the punctum in the transsexual image is literally traumatic: the wounds of transsexuality, the scars from surgery or the physical traces that sustain this body as differently sexed,” (Prosser, 172) that I even examined the existence of Aiden’s scars. In reality, they are obvious. What caught my eye and held it, though, is the position of his hand.
Aiden’s hand is slid slightly down the front of his pants, which are sagging a bit and held up by a belt. As my punctum, the “wound [that] breaks through the studium that is strictly exterior to the structure of the photograph,” (Prosser, 169) Aiden’s hand exerts his masculinity. It showcases the hair growing on his stomach, and begs the viewer to think about what is in those pants. It does not, though, assume that what is there is out of the ordinary. I might even go as far as to say that the viewer, without knowing that Aiden is an FTM transsexual, would not be given that hint from this photograph.
There is a possible problem, though, with my reading of this photograph. I am genderqueer, and I am heavily involved in the trans community. I have to wonder if I am doing a pseudo-autobiographical reading of this photograph. I question myself as to whether I do not concentrate on Aiden’s scars, and instead pay attention to what does make him a man, because “‘autobiographical reading’…applies not only to writing about one’s life but to reading about it; reading for it; reading, perhaps in order to write about it” (Prosser, 168). For various reasons, the FTM transsexual is a topic close to my heart, and I feel like there is a possibility that I do not see Aiden’s scars because I do not want to. Aiden wants to be a man; he wants, not only to pass as a man, but to actually BE a man. I want that for him. Why shouldn’t he have it, if gender is a social thing anyway? Why should the scars on his chest have anything to do with it?
Like the photograph of Shane and his family in the New York Times, Aiden’s display is a general pose that is not telling of his gender, lack of gender, or transgendered position. I think that the photograph is beautiful; it is classic, almost like the kind of shot you’d see in a yearbook. I cannot look at this photograph and see “a violence done to femininity in order to achieve that masculinity” (Salamon, 131). Part of the reason that I don’t, I’m sure, is because the caption with the photograph does not tell me to, unlike the New York Times caption of “Shane Caya displays his mastectomy scars” (Salamon, 131).
We see violence in transitioning because we are told to. I feel that this is one of the innate violences of photography as a medium. A photograph is manipulated, in order to manipulate. What do I know of the truth of transition surgery? I know nothing, except what I am told. I know nothing, except that it leaves battle scars and solemn faces. I know nothing except that, to Aiden surgery helped him be “finally free to be myself—without question, without challenge” (janamarcus.com). To me…that’s good enough.
I really like the way you say that the punctum is transexuality in Marcus's photo. I tried to conceptualize what exactly the punctum wasand what the one thing was that changed my perception of the photo or "wounded" my vision. I focused on the genitalia in class and how that was the punctum to a hetero- normative body builder guy showing his body off. Howeverthere are photos when the genitalia is not shown- the puntum then has to be the knowledge of the background of the photo. I agree with you that most of the photos where the individuals are clothed or just posing, even shirtless, it was not that obvious that these were trans people at all.
ReplyDeleteTypically in photography of transbodies we are compelled to look for a “tell” that alludes to the body being trans: scars, wounds, etc. I find it interesting that you notice a punctum in the hands sliding down the pants, because this interruption of narrative does seem to be exterior of the structure of the photograph. It creates a new narrative: not one of pain, but rather “power,” or maybe “masculinity.” And even though captions usually work as a studium, telling us what we should look at, “Aiden at 25” is an interesting caption, because it does not allude to anything trans at all. In fact, it presents the body as a person with an age. Interesting critique!
ReplyDeleteI also found the title "Aiden at 25" to be intriguing, but not for the same reasons. My experience with the name Aiden has been exclusively with genderqueer individuals--not that all Aiden's are genderqueer, but that Aiden (being a relatively gender neutral name) is a common chosen name for genderqueer individuals.
ReplyDeleteFor me, the punctum of the photograph is Aiden's ring....which directs the viewer to his hand down his pants (which is a very masculine pose, for better or for worse). I begin to think about the ring after the photograph has left my view. Was it on his ring finger? I don't think so. It looked like a wedding band, I think. It stuck.