On the Documentary Value of Art

The concept of truth in art has been a subject of debate among art critics, historians, and philosophers for centuries. E.H. Gombrich and Roger Scruton are among the figures who have explored this complex relationship.

Their discussions delve into how art, whether through painting or photography, represents or distorts reality. This essay examines their key arguments and applies them to the work of contemporary artist Stephanie Syjuco, who engages with themes of identity, politics, and cultural representation through her intricate approach to image-making. Gombrich asks: “that [if] artistic truth differs so much from prosaic truth, that the question of objectivity must never be asked?” Gombrich argues that the “truthfulness” of an artist’s sketch is inherently given by the text that accompanies it such as captions, and descriptions. In the case of paintings, the artist holds a “mental set” that allows them to translate what his eyes see onto a canvas. The result is not a replica of what their eyes behold but a synthesis of this predetermined “stereotype” with the unmediated scene in front of the artist. In problematizing the relationship of art and its interpretations, and the mediative practice of art-making, the critic or art historian becomes more attuned to the construction of “truth”. This synthesis results in a representation that is less about accurate replication and more about conveying a perceived reality. Gombrich argues that this process of artistic creation is inherently subjective. He adds: “The familiar will always remain the likely starting point for the rendering of the unfamiliar; an existing representation will always exert its spell over the artist even while he strives to record the truth” (1960, 67). “Seeing” is a conditioned practice shaped by habits and expectations. This indicates that artists rely on familiar visual cues and stereotypes when interpreting new scenes, thus shaping their artwork in ways that are both conditioned and interpretative. Gombrich goes on to argue that a child’s inaccurate rendering of a map does not differ at all from a cartographer’s. The focus is not on how accurate a representation is but on how complete it is to fulfill a required need. His discussion points to the conceptual nature of art practice. The artist aims to create “not a faithful record of a visual experience but the faithful construction of a relational model” (1960, 73). This conceptual nature of art practice underlines the importance of the artist’s intention and the interpretative framework within which the artwork is created and viewed.

Roger Scruton’s essay “Photography and Representation” (1981) builds on and contrasts with Gombrich’s ideas by exploring the relationship between painting and photography and their respective capacities to represent reality. Scruton delineates the relationship between painting and photography and their respective subjects. This distinction is crucial to understanding Scruton’s perspective on the aesthetic value of different art forms. He problematizes the term “representation” and he argues that the photograph is not a representation of its subject. If the painting has an intentional relationship with its subject, a photograph has a causal, mechanical one. The artist is able to assert their full control in the way they interpret their subject’s likeness and translate it to painting, a process driven by the artist’s intention and creative vision. The photographer however relinquishes his power to variables beyond their control when taking a photograph. 

Scruton argues that the aesthetic value of representation in art is derived from the complex interplay of concept, intention, and composition. This nuanced engagement is largely absent in photography, which is more an outcome of mechanical causation than a product of the artist’s intentionality. Moreover, Scruton contends that the aesthetic aims of painting, which include capturing the experience and impression of observing, often conflict with the accurate reproduction of appearances, a task at which photography excels. This leads to a broader discussion on the concept of abstract art versus representational art, suggesting that the essence of art lies in its abstract qualities rather than mere mimicry of reality. He emphasizes that while photographs can be used representationally, the inherent differences between the two mediums prevent photography from achieving the same level of intentional representation without fundamentally altering its nature. He further illustrates this point by comparing cinema to theater, noting that the representational quality of film arises from the dramatic action and not from the photographic process itself.

Scruton, by opposing the representational aspect of the photograph, inevitably describes how a photographer can achieve the representational quality of a painting. He asserts that the deliberate “attempts to break the causal chain … to impose a human intention between subject and appearance” point to the persistence of the photographic image and can only hinder representation (1981, 594). He treats the photographic image as a mirror, a direct mechanical copy of its subject. Try as a photographer might attempt to apply a painterly manner of capturing the details of the subject and distract the spectator’s attention from the causal relation of the photograph to its subject, a fact remains, as Scruton argues: the photograph is non-representational. By emphasizing the relationship of intentionality and causality in both painting and photography, Scruton’s theory can be taken as a challenge to rethink the way photographs are composed, conceptualized, or even presented for it to be regarded as art, as in Scruton’s terms. As he has hinted, it is possible to regard the practice of photography as art practice if it teeters in the realm of the conceptual: the artist’s intentionality is foregrounded through the medium of photography.

Of particular interest is Stephanie Syjuco’s body of work which explores themes of identity, politics, and cultural representation through photography and mixed media. Stephanie Syjuco’s practice offers a compelling case study in the context of Gombrich’s and Scruton’s theories. In “Diversity Pictures” (2020), Syjuco interrogates the portrayal of multiculturalism in photography. Syjuco asks: “How is the promise of a multicultural and ethnically diverse society envisioned and packaged via the medium of stock photography?” Stock photographs are images sourced from the internet and are usually used for graphic design work such as brochures or websites. Designers enter a search term to find photographs that fit the visual language of the design that caters to a certain demographic. Syjuco obtained the captions from stock photographs after searching for the term “diversity”. The captions are then set against backdrops from the color average of each photograph. Syjuco, however, deliberately left out the photographs, so the spectator is forced to imagine what diversity looks like, which often she finds “unproblematically and with a societal togetherness that borders on wishful thinking.” Syjuco here focuses on a seemingly unmediated mental picture of how diversity is conceived in the mind which is more often than not influenced and seen through the bias of a white male gaze.

In Syjuco’s “Native Resolution” (2021) exhibition, the artist presents and problematizes the construction of American history, founded on its colonial archive. The artist looked for visual evidence of the Philippines and Filipinos in the official American archive, delving into the holdings of the National Museum of American History and the National Museum of Anthropology in Washington, DC. Syjuco’s exhibition, closely referred to as “cultural forensics,” aims to reconstruct a fragmented and perpetually incomplete narrative of the Philippines and its culture during American colonization. She unearthed inconsistencies in the records and files throughout her process. The reconstruction of the archive highlighted the mistakes, and gaps visually featured in her “(re)photographs”. Metrics and visual guides that were included in her photographs hint at forcing the colonial subject to become ethnographic objects for study. Her method is a historiography that points to the significance of an archive in the construction and ideation of a nation.

The works she presented question the truthfulness of the American colonial archive, which when carefully examined is rather incomplete. To point to this fact, colonial photographs were scaled up to the point where the faces of Filipino subjects could only be construed through enlarged pixels, as presented in her “Headshots (Witnesses)” photo series. The works on display challenge the notion that the use of photography in the constitution of an archive can serve as impartial cultural narrators. She provides context to her images, challenging viewers to think critically about the colonial narratives imposed on indigenous Filipinos. Photographs and archives are indeed not neutral.

Syjuco critically engages with the photographic medium by questioning its role in constructing historical and cultural narratives. Her manipulation and juxtaposition of images from different eras serve as a form of intentional staging. This technique forces viewers to question the authenticity and implications of these images. Her work goes beyond mere documentation to become a powerful critique of colonialism and representation, embodying the intentional and reflective qualities that Scruton associates with “true” art.

For her “Cargo Cults” (2016) series, Syjuco photographs herself clothed in “ethnic” patterns which add to how “exotic” the composition of the image is. The clothing, which was sourced from H&M and the Gap, still had their tags on, and they serve as an example of how cultural appropriation has become a commodity. Here, the color guide takes on the form of recurring patterns or visual clichés. Although considered objective, these technological markings used to measure up “ethnic” patterns point to the perpetuation of a white, racialized perspective that poses as a universal given. The act of appropriating patterns without giving credit or specificity to the people or groups from where they originated unravels unfair practices embedded in what appear to be ubiquitous designs that are skillfully displayed in Syjuco’s artwork.

The artist intervenes with the archive in “Block Out the Sun” (2019). Syjuco acknowledges the racial bias brought upon the Filipinos displayed in the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair. These records, although factual and ethnographic in nature, have long been disputed in the way they present their colonial subjects as mere specimens in a zoo. They also continuously reproduce and solidify the power structures of the era. Despite attempts to portray these staged ethnographic photos as antiquated, the effect of continuously watching them might also assist in maintaining racial preconceptions. Syjuco remarks:

By physically blocking the images with my hands, I attempted a direct way of intervening with an archive, and thwarting the viewer’s ability to fully consume the people and faces on display. Over a century after the original photos of the Filipino Village were taken, my own body, sitting in the archives, becomes both a temporary shield and a marker of defiance, while at the same time acknowledging that the images still remain.

The exploration of truth in art, as discussed by Gombrich and Scruton, provides a valuable framework for understanding contemporary artistic practices. Gombrich’s emphasis on the conditioned nature of seeing and the synthesis of familiar and unfamiliar elements in artistic creation highlights the subjective and interpretative nature of art. Scruton’s differentiation between the intentionality of painting and the mechanical causality of photography challenges us to reconsider the aesthetic value and representational capacity of different mediums.

In the analysis of Syjuco’s work and her practice in image-making, there is a sense of transition from art merely representing reality to expressing complex cultural and social critiques. Underlying themes in her work help question cultural perceptions of value and originality. Syjuco’s work interrogates the systems that define and enforce notions of authenticity, revealing them as constructs often linked to power, economics, and historical narratives. By blending high and low art, digital and handmade, original and counterfeit, she encourages viewers to reconsider what they value as authentic and why. This critical perspective not only addresses art and consumer culture but also broader themes of identity, heritage, and historical memory. Stephanie Syjuco’s work exemplifies how contemporary artists can navigate these theoretical landscapes, using photography and mixed media to critically engage with themes of identity, politics, and cultural representation. By questioning the authenticity and implications of historical and cultural narratives, Syjuco’s projects transcend mere documentation to become powerful critiques on the role of intentionality and conceptualization in art. Through her multifaceted approach, Syjuco challenges established notions of authenticity, prompting viewers to reflect on the socio-political forces that shape our understanding and valuation of art and culture. Her work underscores the importance of intentionality and critical engagement with historical and cultural narratives, highlighting the evolving role of art as a medium of cultural and social critique. ■

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Works Cited

Gombrich, Ernst Hans. Art and Illusion. Princeton University Press, 1960.

Scruton, Roger. “Photography and Representation.” Critical Inquiry 7, no. 3 (1981): 577–603. http://www.jstor.org/stable/1343119.

Stephanie Syjuco. n.d. “Stephanie Syjuco.” https://www.stephaniesyjuco.com/