Dziga Vertov's Man With A Movie Camera

This is an investigation into the photographers subjectivity, and how the photographers relationship between the subject and themselves becomes a collaboration to convey some sort of special significants. The photographer is tied to the facts of the subject and he/she has to define the truth, the photographer is able to add a coherent narrative by isolating a fragment of the subject and by doing so claiming some sort of rich context, that holds an extraordinary value of intelligence and a convincing narrative. The investigation will have a general look up on the remarks of photography then specifying on photographic fields and examining them more closer. The photographic fields that we consider closest to reality we generalise with common teams
Part of the horror of such memorable coups of contemporary photojournalism as the pictures of a Vietnamese bonze reaching for the gasoline can, of a Bengali guerrilla in the act of bayoneting a trussed-up collaborator, comes from the awareness of how plausible it has become, in situations where the photographer has the choice between a photograph and a life, to choose the photograph. The person who intervenes cannot record; the person who is recording cannot intervene. Dziga Vertov’s great film, Man with a Movie Camera (1929), gives the ideal image of the photographer as someone in perpetual movement, someone moving through a panorama of disparate events with such agility and speed that any intervention is out of the question. Hitchcock’s Rear Window (1954) gives the complementary image: the photographer played by James Stewart has an intensified relation to one event, through his camera, precisely because he has a broken leg and is confined to a wheelchair; being temporarily immobilized prevents him from acting on what he sees, and makes it even more important to take pictures. Even if incompatible with intervention in a physical sense, using a camera is still a form of participation. Although the camera is an observation