Medgar Evers

Link to post: http://www.stg.brown.edu/projects/FreedomNow/do_search_single.php?searchid=74



Found in the Brown-Tougaloo Project archives, this portrait of Medgar Evers was printed next to his obituary.

A few weeks ago, I went to see The Help and was struck by the fact that Medgar Evers' name drop in the film was little more than a mark on the timeline, a vague reminder that the racism in early 1960's Mississippi did go beyond catty swipes and routine acts of disrespect. Having come across his picture almost immediately in the archive I had to share with everyone how powerful this picture was to me, especially in light of his meager mention in the film.

With the advent of photography becoming more easily accessible in the 20th Century, the majesty that came with having a picture taken arguably disappeared. Poses and styles became more routine in formal portraits, betraying or disconnecting a certain personality trait that a subject may otherwise possess. This is not true for all pictures of course - and photography (especially informal or journalistic varieties) has been the only medium for expressing or capturing a plethora of insights on modern society, but for the purposes of this conversation I'd argue that formal shots are stiffer and easy to replicate.

This is why Evers' picture struck me. For such a predictable format, there is a lot of aftermath charisma that comes with identifying the context of its publication. The picture on its own implies a dignity about its subject, and he manages to loosen up his pose with a slight smile, but to see that man and read in the paragraph next to him about his shot-in-the-back assassination reveals something about ourselves - some kind of flaw that, historically, we can never just understand a subject through its visual nature and, upon remembering that, can't return to the imagined person we thought we saw. The inspiration, tragedy and martyrdom that Evers' life came to represent isn't seen in this image - what remains is an attempt to pick up the pieces and remember only the good because the bad has been cataloged and fully exposed. It is a respectful gesture, but it is not completely honest.

I find it hard to get to the right words, but I feel that this is a recurring theme in American print. Today is September 11th, and there have been thousands of images reprinted of the World Trade Center - befores and afters, heroes and villains. This is what happened in the Civil Rights Movement, the Great Depression, the Civil War, and I'd like to know: do you think the images of America(ns) is congruent with the personalities and identity you'd find on a streetcorner? In a bank? What is it about the preservation of images that is so integral to the identity of America? (Not that it outweighs any other form of media in particular - but so much of the USA's presence hinges on its visual preservation).