Last weekend I went out to see my favorite band of the decade, Chasca. They're a glam band, they're local, I know all the guys personally, and I have a deep affection for each of them. They play at a bar called the Triple Crown here in town about once a month, and there's a regular crowd of friends and fans that you can count on seeing at every show -- delightful and colorful folks that I'm happy to know. It's less like a show at a dive bar and more like a party where I know I'm going to find old friends and make new ones.
As always, at their show last Saturday I had a blast. The opening bands were all great, I was dressed up in a belly dance costume, everyone I met was really friendly, there was much hugging and mingling and dancing and sweating and singing along ...
and I forgot to take pictures.
I was having such a good time I completely forgot to let my phone and its camera get between the fun and my face.
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| (L-R) Ian, JT and Junior of Chasca at a show a few months back |
My disenchantment with photographing everything became complete at the Texas Wild Rice Festival earlier this month, when I saw three women standing in the river together taking a selfie. One, it seemed kinda stupid to have a fancy phone in the water. Two, the river is such a pleasant and sacred place to be, especially with friends, I couldn't understand why they weren't just enjoying being there together.
Maybe they were having a great time and just took a brief pause to capture it. But this is the age of the selfie, a strange period in the course of human relations characterized by the saying, "Pics or it didn't happen."
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| (L-R) "The Seans" (Sean Hannon and Sean Palmer) and JT of Chasca -- again, from a few months back |
I suppose it has to do with how we communicate with each other now -- social media and mass communication make it easy to just take a photo and share it with everyone instead of telling everyone we know a story about some cool or interesting thing we were a part of. But I can't help thinking that sometimes it's healthy to exchange those thousand words that a picture is standing in for -- take time to talk, and listen, to each other, like people used to do before technology made it possible for us to let 500 people, some of whom we've never actually met, know what our breakfast looks like.
A recent study indicated that photographing something makes you less likely to remember it in the short term. Part of me wonders if that's the case because when you stop to take a picture, you're no longer in the moment. You have to step outside of whatever's going on to become an observer of the situation instead of a participant in the situation. It's a violation of the simple rule, "Be where you are."
So be where you are! Sure, take a photo, but be fully present as much as you can so you'll remember it, feel it, and have a great story to accompany the photo. Life isn't just a bunch of pixels -- it's breath and sweat and laughter and real human interaction. Enjoy it!
I'm grateful that I was able to really be at the Chasca show this past weekend, because it was far more fun to have conversations with old friends and new acquaintances, get hugged, dance, sing and jump around than to spend an inordinate amount of time messing around with my phone's camera. And as a bonus, the night I didn't stop having fun long enough to take a picture of it, there were three or four professional photographers there, shooting photos and video. Here are my friends:
(And at about 1:45 you can see me in the background in a belly dance costume -- so even though I have no photos of my own, I got documented that night anyway!)
I suffer from this, as my boyfriend is a chronic phone photographer. I suppose he views is as acting as historiographer, especially with our 7 month old baby. But like you, I believe that the meaning and purpose of life involves sponging up as much sensory and emotional experience, especially in the moments of special events, as humanly possible. Later, I'm glad he got that little video of our baby eating his first sweet potato (well, pawing it and gumming it, anyway). But at the time, did he enjoy it less? Perhaps not. In the end, I'm happy if he takes the picture - but make it quick - and post it to Facebook/Twitter/Instagram later on, during moments of "down time." I dont know, it seems like this issues is a little more complex, when we consider that technology is just second nature to people, and has a place in their individual sense of "being in the now." "To each his own" seems to be the two-state solution, at least for my relationship...
ReplyDeleteI used to be *really* bad about it -- part of my problem is I used to be a reporter so I have this "Take a dozen pictures of everything!!" mentality drilled into me until I started realizing that it was removing me from being where I was and doing what I was doing. And sometimes I go out to shows and see a dozen people with their smartphones in the air and/or riveted to their screens and think, "Can't that wait? You're missing some stuff!" But I think whether it interferes with a person's experience of the moment has to do with focus, and that does vary from person to person.
ReplyDeleteI think too it's distracting from the "moment" to be at a show where half the folks are looking at the stage through the screens their phones, because after all we go to public places to be entertained and to relish in the atmosphere and camaraderie of the group. I know when my boyfriend turns to Instagram a funny moment in the garden, for that moment (get the phone out, turn on the app, frame the picture, take the picture, put on a "filter", put on a caption, press "send", wait for it travel to cyberspace, close the app, turn off the screen, phone back in pocket) I am alone.
ReplyDeleteAlso true. I know that phone cameras are ubiquitous now but it is kind of weird to be at a concert and everyone around you is watching the performance through their phones, almost like they're so used to looking at screens that they don't know how else to watch a band.
ReplyDeleteI don't know where you're located but here in Texas (and in a few other places) there is a theater chain called Alamo Drafthouse -- one of those places where you go into the theater, order dinner and get to eat while you're watching the movie. They have a very strict no-phone policy -- not only are you supposed to at least turn the ringer off (if not the phone altogether), you're not allowed to text or take pics or do anything that involves the screen lighting up because they consider it distracting for other people. I love Alamo Drafthouse!