The eighty-eighth video of "Short Monologues by Platon Rivellis on Photography and Art" (2nd series, 2017).

A photograph has a very peculiar physical presence. In essence, it does not exist; it is merely a trace. We cannot say that the negative or the digital file is the artwork itself. The image that can be displayed on a screen or a television is not the artwork either, as we cannot take it home and make it our own to enjoy under different conditions. It is still, one might say, a copy of something that does not exist. This does not create a problem; on the contrary, it fascinates us photographers and it generates thoughts which we must consider in order to enrich our communication with it. I, or at least my generation, continue to be enchanted by the printed photograph. I do not believe this is necessary or that it will certainly apply to the next generations who will be more familiar with the internet and computers. Nevertheless, I can say that when a photograph takes a physical form in print, it creates a much greater allure. This does not mean that it acquires materiality because it will never gain the specificity that each Print might be different and completely similar to the previous one. There can be infinite copies, so we are talking about a trace that multiplies and takes different forms. The opportunity that digital technology has given us to reproduce in various media, in various ways, in various sizes is an enrichment of the medium. We should not fear it. On the other hand, I believe we should not surpass, forget, or diminish the importance of printing because it takes a piece that is completely imaginative, which is art, photography in particular, and makes it a tangible reality again. A reality that we accept with many of our senses and by touch. Craigie Horsfield, an English photographer, posed an even more complex issue. When is a photograph born? He said, at the moment when it is imprinted as a latent image on the negative or when I see it for the first time. When were Winogrand's photographs born, which he had nothing to do with because he simply had them developed on film? After his death? When they were first printed and exhibited? It's a question, hence why photographers are often asked to provide details of the photograph, including the date, like a painting, a piece of music, or a film, and they hesitate about which date to give, usually, and quite correctly, they give the date the photograph was taken. But at the time of the shot, the date of capture, the photograph is just a small part of the final result; it has not yet undergone the stages of selection, processing, and ultimately printing. Thus, these questions should accompany us, enriching the mystery of photography without giving a definitive answer and without deifying either the printed or the latent photograph.