Selective in his photography process, he used one of America’s highest paid models, Dovima. Originally born Dorothy Virginia Margaret Juba in 1927, Dovima created her model name from the first two initials of her three given names ("Blondeen"). Discovered by Vogue by sheer luck, Dovima entered the modeling business and became an American icon almost instantly (Smithsonian). Avedon would say of her beauty, “The ideal of beauty then was the opposite of what it is now. It stood for an extension of the aristocratic view of women as ideals, of women as dreams, of women as almost surreal objects. Dovima fit that in her proportions” ("Blondeen"). In this postwar decade that celebrated luxury, maturity, stasis, froidure, Dovima certainly stood out above the rest (Camhi 3).
But in this modern day era, these values are replaced with newer, more progressive ideals. While one may argue that the celebrated notions of luxury, maturity, and stasis are still very much alive today (view any current music video and you’ll catch my drift), I’d like to think that there has been a shift in the way the general public sees things. Yes, these ideas and images plague us on a daily basis. But now we can see through the luxury, the stasis, the constant sex and analyze them in a more intellectual way. These new social outlooks force the modern generation of viewers to see Dovima with Elephants for what it really is: a commentary on power and acting on that power.
At first glance, the thing that attracts me to this photo (the studium) is the fact that it is black and white. Black and white photographs hold a special place in my heart (the original photo I was going to analyze was black and white if that’s any inclination to the pattern here). But the thing that also draws me in immediately is the elephants. They are such powerful, fantastic creatures. It’s hard not to be hypnotized by their presence, and it’s even more difficult not to notice them altogether. Since it is a fashion photograph, it makes sense that another source of studium (at least for me) is the dress that Dovima is wearing. It is sophisticated and elegant, but does not detract any attention from the elephants. It simultaneously acts as the focal point while sort of fading away to the background of the image.
But a photograph can’t stand alone on studium as Barthes reminds us. There needs to be punctum as well. The punctum in this photograph comes in both positive and negative forms. The first thing that pierces me is the fact that there are chains around the elephants’ feet. This detail is so minute that at first glance, I didn’t even realize they were there. But once I saw them, I could not peel my eyes from them. They disturbed me. They made my skin crawl. They made me hate the image when I moments before I wanted it framed and permanently hanging on my wall. This is what I mean by this photo being a display of power. This isn’t the iconic image of glamor that the Smithsonian will have you believe. This is a man who chained wild, majestic creatures to the floor for the sake of fashion week in Paris.
But the photograph quickly subdues the feelings of rage that initially bombard me when faced with the chains by having Dovima as the focal point as previously stated. It is the nature of the viewer to always go back to that main focus, and in so doing they can see and analyze the nature of the pose of the model. The gentle slope of her neck as she gazes at the elephants suggests a sense of sympathy on the part of the model. She becomes a kind of spectator within the photograph, joining the audience in their dismay at the treatment of the elephants.
I interviewed an art major friend of mine to see how her interpretation of the photograph matched up with mine. I found that we had very similar ideas about the work.
“At first glance, the difference between the wild animals and the very glamorous looking lady is very striking. The chains on the elephants’ feet sort of changed the perspective a little bit for me,” she said – an almost identical match to my own experience with the photograph.
“It was like a sort of peaceful thing – seeing the elephants be calm around her and her looking sort of natural. The chains made me look at the elephants as a little more frantic and scared than I thought of them before.”
Interviewing her, I felt that she was inside my mind picking out the very things that attracted and enticed me about this photograph. Everything she said was so similar, but then things got interesting!
“I think it’s interesting how it looks like they’re in a room or against a wall or something. You normally think of elephants being outside even if you are thinking of them being chained up. Seeing that wall so close to them is a little bizarre,” she points out. I didn’t even consider this when looking at the photograph the first time. In my research, I found that Avedon tried to stray from the studio in his photography. But then, if this is true, where are the clouds? Where is the sunshine? Where is the nature present in this piece? There is none. And that only adds to the complete unnatural state of this photograph. It only adds to the power being forced on the animals; the power that man has to remove nature’s greatest creatures from their homes.
“It’s not just an image that was taken. Powerful people were behind this and they thought that this was cool. That this was okay. It’s even more striking because it reminds you of the differences between back then and today because you couldn’t get away with something like that today.”
Just as I mentioned before, this photograph speaks more about the dichotomy between the time it was taken and present day. Our values have changed as a society, and therefore our viewing of the photograph has changed with it.
What’s interesting to me is my friend’s interpretation of the woman’s gaze at the elephants. Where I interpret sympathy towards their agony, she sees indifference.
“The woman she’s standing there and she doesn’t care that these giant elephants can destroy her at any moment. She’s in charge of them. She has this power over them.”
After listening to her say this, it forced me to look at this photograph with yet another perspective, seeing now the arrogance in Dovima as she looks at the elephants beside her. But this ability to interpret the photograph in more than one way only adds to its punctum in my opinion. What good is a photograph if it can only be seen one way? Interpreted in one way? Loved in one way? If this is the case, perhaps there is no punctum at all. The photograph is nothing more than an array of studium, stuck in a sea of superficiality with nothing happening beyond the wall.
I think Barthes would agree with me in saying that Dovima with Elephants fits his criteria for a good photograph. Possessing both studium and punctum, this photograph leaves an impact on its viewers that lasts beyond first impressions. While the photograph was taken during a time when luxury, stasis, and maturity factored in more than the well-being of all subjects involved, those values have since depleted leaving the viewer feeling outraged at the cruel treatment of the elephants. The subliminal messages of power override any warm sentiments one can feel about the beauty of Dovima, her dress, or even the majesty of the elephants themselves. There is only the unsettling realization that whoever wields the camera holds the power. And therein lies the nature of the beast.
Barthes, Roland. Camera Lucida. New York: Hill and Wang, 1980. 26-27. Print.
Camhi, Leslie. "Dovima - Voguepedia." Vogue. n.d. 3. Print.
"Dovima's Biography." Blondeen. TV Heaven, n. d. Web. 10 Mar. 2014.
"Dovima with Elephants - Richard Avedon - Iconic Photograph." Amateur Photographer. n.d. 4. Print.