Visual Culture Blog

Advertising for perfumes, particularly perfumes by female celebrities, is produced with amazing visual consistency. A brief glance at a variety of ads shows that there appears to be a formula for celebrity perfume ads in American popular culture: the celebrity is photographically represented alongside the perfume she advertises which is usually shown on the bottom, or more specifically, on the bottom right hand corner of the page. There might be a practical reason for this phenomenon in visual culture since, when flipping through a magazine, the right hand side of the page is, from an advertising perspective, more desirable. By showing the perfume bottle on the right hand corner, the reader encounters the product in the last instance as he or she turns the page. The first visual encounter in the ad is usually with the celebrity herself. In above example its Jennifer Aniston draped in a knitted blanket, sitting on a rock, with the sun setting on a beach. The ocean in the background, Aniston’s implied nudity and her windswept hair are strongly reminiscent of Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. The reference to water, a theme running through many perfume ads, also underlines the liquidity of the perfume itself.

Sandro Botticelli, The Birth of Venus, c. 1486

Another theme explored in the perfume ad formula is the celebrity returning a gaze back to the spectator over her left shoulder. The pose is strongly suggestive of photographs taken on the red carpet in which the celebrities twist and turn to present their dresses to the assembled photographers. While Kylie Minogue is simply referred to as ‘Sexy Darling’, this emphasis on exhibitionism and a visual encounter with the celebrity is further stressed in Britney Spears’ ad for Curious. A man can be seen in the background to the photograph looking at Spears, while Spears herself is suggestively looking at the spectator. The slogan ‘Do you dare?’ further underlines a sexual element to the representation of gender, as if the spectator is invited to join the subjects into a hypothetical ménage à trois via the gaze.

Halle by Halle Berry and Eva by Eva Longoria also submit to the perfume ad formula of celebrity returning a gaze back to the spectator over the left shoulder. In both cases, the name of the perfume is the first name of the celebrity herself, whereas the name is written in such a way that it looks like the celebrities’ signature. This is an important element in the ad since, as it appears, the perfume is not only endorsed by the celebrity, but rather, it’s created by the celebrity herself. Like the artist signing his artwork, the celebrity signs her creation. I am using the word sign in the semiotic sense – the sign as a signifier. Her the signature signifies the celebrity’s assumed personal affiliation, even creation, of the perfume.

The perfume ad formula, because it is so consistently reproduced, appears to foster a culture in which ads are also copying other ads. Apart from Halle by Halle Berry and Eva by Eva Longoria, this can also be observed in Deseo by Jennifer Lopez and M by Mariah Carey. Both Deseo and M make references to a tropical wilderness in which the female subject appears carefree, ‘swinging’ with the rhythm of nature. The celebrity is represented as Tarzan’s Jane: scantily clad, wild, sexually available. A more historic reference to Jean Honoré Fragonard’s The Swing also suggests that here the swinging also evokes connotations of voyeurism. The alternative use of the word ‘swinging’ clearly situates the ads in a context of promiscuity.

Jean Honoré Fragonard, The Swing, 1767

With these many references to sexuality, it is not surprising that another major theme in the perfume ad formula is the bedroom. Jessica Simpson’s head is resting on a pillow while Mariah Carey is reclining on a bed. The skin coloured silk is, in both cases, alluding to the subjects’ nudity in the confines of her bedroom. Here, the perfume ad evokes connotations of the boudoir, or, in other words, an intrinsically private and intimate space. The spectator is invited to join the celebrity to a space that is exclusive, suggesting that the consumption of the perfume also manifests an exclusive relationship with the celebrity.

Despite the many references to an intimate and apparently heterosexual relationship with the celebrity in mass media and culture, it is important to stress that the ads are mostly reproduced in women’s magazines. In other words, the representation of gender in the perfume ad formula ads is designed for a female spectator. The typology of the perfume ad formula thus brings up a visual paradox in feminist visual culture. While the ads are designed for a female spectator, they apparently subscribe to the iconography of voyeurism, the commodification of women, even the visual codes of pornography. Beyonce’s Heat is one such example. What advertisers seeks to tap in here is the female consumer’s assumed desire to obtain a glimpse of the celebrities’ lifestyle in American popular culture. Here it is specifically her scent that might be desired. And having obtained her scent, it is suggested that the consumer becomes equally as desirable as the celebrity herself. However, desirability in the perfume ad formula always hinges on being visually desirable from the cliched perspective of a man. The perfume ad formula, rather than opening up new avenues for independent and successful celebrities, is actually further reproducing a hegemonic image economy that connects the fetishism of the commodity with the commodification and colonization of the female body.

For more on the representation of gender in the media, please read my posts Banning the ‘Amateurish’ American Apparel Ads and The Aesthetics of Artificiality.

Looking at the wall

A tumblr site dedicated to Kim Jong Il Looking at Things is the latest online craze in visual culture. As the title of the site suggests, it’s a collection of photographs depicting the North Korean dictator ostensibly caught in moments of ‘looking’. By now, the site is so popular that the tumblr server periodically breaks down. The timing of the tumblr site is impeccable: launched on the 26th of October 2010 by an anonymous user in Lisbon, Portugal, the site was barely up and running for a month as North Korean missiles hit South Korean targets, killing two civilians on the 22nd of November 2010. By that time, the tumblr site already had a solid following. In this time of mounting tension between the two Koreas, it appears that Kim Jong Il’s image was never as popular as it is now.

Looking at fish

What is it about these photographs that makes them so popular? As the viewer is looking at Kim Jong Il, he is looking at fish, a factory, a radish, a powerpoint presentation and so forth. Sigmund Freud defined this dualistic relationship between the pleasure of looking and being looked at as Schaulust, or scopophilia. The viewer is drawn to these photographs of Kim Jong Il by the scopophilic drive to encounter the Other. Here, the Other is a notorious dictator, bathing in the cult of personality, reigning over a introverted and closed off regime once described by George W. Bush being part of the ‘axis of evil’. In a sense, the popularity of photographs of Kim Jong Il points to the desire to put a face to this Western construct of evil.

Looking at wheat

The anonymous photographer taking these pictures must have worked under immense pressure to produce flattering images of Kim Jong Il. One of the big problems is that Kim Jong Il is short built and, despite a special pair of plateau shows, consistently appears smaller than those who are supposed to be ‘below’ him. The photographer seeks to avoid this visual contradiction by photographing Kim Jong Il from a lower vantage point. This methodology is apparent in most photographs in which Kim Jong Il conducts so-called ‘tours of field guidance’ – a tradition he inherited from his father Kim Il Sung. In the photograph of Kim Jong Il looking at wheat for instance, the lower vantage point of the camera underlines his position as leader, looking forward, his gaze directed to the future, while everyone else (including the camera and by extension the viewer) is looking at him. The tragic irony in photographs of Kim Jong Il looking at his country’s agriculture is that chronic food shortages have caused millions of deaths in North Korea over the last two decades. Here, the photograph is clearly part of a propaganda apparatus that seeks to establish that the North Korean regime is capable of feeding its own people.

Looking at a radish

However, the photographs are also, although they are not intended to be, tragically funny. There is for example the image of Kim Jong Il holding a radish with this right hand. The left hand, like in most photographs of the ‘Dear Leader’, remains hidden or tucked into a pocket. The West has long been speculating that Kim Jong Il’s health is fading and that his left side of the body is partially paralyzed. In the photograph, the physical decline of Kim Jong Il is signified by the radish (the phallus) pointing downwards thus prompting a look of disapproval by the dictator. Next to Kim Jong Il is his Vice Marshal Ri Yong-Ho, one of the most senior military officers in North Korea, with a notepad. A cursory glance at the collection of photographs reveals that people standing next to or near Kim Jong Il customarily carry a notepad and a pen. They are, as it appears in the images, always prepared to make a note of sudden bursts of ingenuity exclaimed by Kim Jong Il. He is the speaker while others make note of it.

Looking at hats

Looking at buckets

And while senior military staff and members of the Politbüro are always prepared for guidance by their leader, the photographer too, is prepared to react when Kim Jong Il indulges in his well-known eccentricities. In one image he puts on a straw hat, while in another he appears to crack a joke about a red bucket. These are the kind of uncanny moments that humanize Kim Jong Il. The photographs of him smiling and making others smile don’t sit well in the larger context of military aggression and brutal state oppression. The discomfort felt looking at these photographs of Kim Jong Il is comparable to a key scene in ‘The Downfall’ in which Adolf Hitler is depicted petting his German Shepherd. How can evil be caring? In the same way, how can evil be funny?

This is maybe the main reason why these photographs have become so popular recently: the uncanny desire for a visual encounter with the Other during a time in which a simple dichotomization between ‘good’ and ‘evil’ through a Bushian looking glass seems to fail. And while American and South Korean warships gather in the East China Sea in preparation for an all out war with Pyongyang, effectively turning the geopolitical gaze from Afghanistan, Iran and Iraq to North Korea, a little site depicting a little man keeps on attracting new visitors eager to look at him – trying to understand, who is this man.

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Ryuji Miyamoto, Cardboard Houses, Tokyo, 20th April 1994.

Tokyo is a city made for the homeless. In the winter, it rarely gets below freezing and the summers are hot and humid. The infrastructure of the city supplies abundant opportunities for shelter, whether its under a bridge, along the rivers or in the parks. Even the smallest public parks are equipped with toilets that are free of charge. Fresh water is available almost anywhere. Convenient stores sell packed noodles for as little as 100 yen (more or less a dollar). The hot water required to cook the noodles is again free of charge. Most small restaurants dispose of their leftover foods in bin bags left on the street over night. The circle line can be used to rest during the day time. The trains are also the place that supply a potential income to the city’s homeless men – and they are mainly men. Magazines left behind on the trains are collected and sold on to a central collection booth which sells the magazine back to the public. This creates a cycle of consumption from which the homeless can benefit. The term homeless therefore has different connotations in Japan, since, depending on the level of organization, some men have a daily income, have built permanent shacks and are part of a living community. There is no begging, no busking and, on the face of it, no crime.

Ryuji Miyamoto, Cardboard Houses, Tokyo, 18th April 1994.

Ryuji Miyamoto’s series of photographs called ‘Cardboard Houses’ depicts the living spaces created by the city’s organized homeless. The project began in the late 1980s but came to full fruition in the mid-1990s, just as Japan suffered from an economic crisis and the homeless population of Tokyo grew rapidly. Miyamoto is mainly known as an architectural photographer which might explain why he concentrated on the structures created by the organized homeless, rather then the homeless themselves. His cardboard houses are a typology of structures reminiscent of the ‘Water Towers’ by Bernd and Hilla Becher. Even his choice of black and white film, plate camera and silver gelatin printing techniques are an homage to the New Objectivity propagated by the Bechers. The view is supposed to be detached, objective, straight, uncompromising and cold. The photographs are meant to be documents that might inform the viewer on the cardboard chosen for the shacks or where the shacks have been built. Miyamoto observed that the cardboard houses are predominantly located in the cracks that the megalopolis Tokyo supplies in abundance. While Becher’s water towers are fully exposed to light, space and the lens of the camera, Miyamoto’s cardboard houses are usually next to, under or in between structures.

Bernd and Hilla Becher, Water Tower, undated.

Manabu Yamanaka, Arakan, undated.

While Miyamoto photographed the living structures of the organized homeless, Manabu Yamanaka photographed the other end of extremes of Tokyo’s homeless population. In his artist statement Yamanaka points out that the subjects for his photographic series ‘Arakan’ wandered aimlessly through the city, lost the ability to communicate and had no bedding or clothing except for what they were wearing. Particularly Yamanaka’s observation that his subjects were ‘shuffling along because of malnutrition’ evokes the harrowing image of concentration camps victims. Giorgio Agamben’s analysis of the figure of the Muselmann describes men in the Nazi concentration camps who have lost their senses through malnutrition, emotional and physical abuse and have become a limit-figure between life and death. In reference to the etymology of the word Muselmann, the ‘Muslim’ is a figure who has totally submitted himself to the way of god. The title of the photographic series ‘Arakan’ also equates the homeless men to an encounter with god. Derived from the Sanskrit word Arihan (ari=enemy, han=kill), the Arakan is the highest goal attainable to those practicing Theravada Buddhism. In other words, the Arakan has ‘killed’ his ‘enemies’ greed, anger and delusions. Photographer Yamanaka writes that his subjects have severed all ties to the flesh and practice assiduous austerity. It is perhaps a more romantic interpretation of the homeless men that he photographed, as if it is a choice of lifestyle rather than a consequence of mental illness.

Richard Avedon, Bill Curry, Drifter, Interstate 40, Yukon, Oklahoma, June 16, 1980.

The white background in Yamanaka’s photographs also evokes Richard Avedon’s classic photographic series ‘In the American West’. Avedon too trained his lens on those considered to be marginal. But his is an extremely stylized vision of the human condition. Yamanaka’s photographs on the other hand are full with technical flaws such as scratched negatives, underexposure or out-of-focusness. In a sense, these photographic attributes underline the very condition of the people that he photographed. In other photo projects as well, Yamanaka has displayed a propensity towards extreme subject matters. His work could be regarded as exploitative and voyeuristic. The automatic reaction when encountering one of Yamanaka’s homeless men might be to look away, so base has their existence become. Instead, Yamanaka forces us to look at them, reminding of us of their existence in one of the most highly developed and industrialized countries in the world. Whatever the view of Yamanaka’s homeless men, they do exist and operate, even in the homeless community, on the very margins of human existence.

If you are interested in Japanese photography, my recently published essay ‘Are-Bure-Boke: Distortions in Late 1960s Japanese Cinema and Photography’ can be downloaded as pdf here.