Rob Amberg
Photographs are about memory. They are full of history and personal detail and teach us to look at the very texture and feeling of life around us. In my mind the most important role of a photograph is to inform us about time, place and people. I often refer to photography as visual note taking.
Photography is unique to the arts in that its very existence depends on an external reality. There simply has to be something to photograph. This need for reality gives photographs the appearance of objectivity and encourages the belief that “a photo doesn’t lie.” But photography’s process is entirely subjective, thoroughly bound to the whims and prejudices of the photographer - which lens to use, where to stand, when to trip the shutter. So, while maybe “a photo doesn’t lie,” it is probably more accurate to say, “a photograph is worth a thousand words.” It’s important to remember that those words will likely be different for everyone viewing the same photograph. For me, believability becomes the key.
I consider myself a participant/observer and I am often torn by the conflict between my competing needs both to observe and participate. But it is also clear to me that participation in my community has served to inform my observation. Questions of motivation, stereotype and representation take on different meanings when viewed in the context of your life, as opposed to, theories being debated in a classroom. Initially, I was embarrassed that my photographs seemed to offer no tangible benefits to a community that seemed to only value things that aided survival: firewood, bean seeds, an ability with a tobacco knife. But insight often comes from the most unexpected of sources, and in time, I saw too that photographs played a vital role in Madison County’s memory.
Purchase Rob Amberg's Sodom Laurel Album here.