Republican presidential candidate former President Donald Trump is surrounded by U.S. Secret Service agents at a campaign rally, Saturday, July 13, 2024, in Butler, Pa. (AP Photo/Evan Vucci) Regardless of the complex cultural, social, and political impacts of the attempt on former president and 2024 election front-runner Donald Trump’s life, the event has left an indelible mark on the photography world and offers a chance to consider how society consumes, shares, and thinks about images. I spoke to a veteran conservationist photographer and filmmaker this week — not at all about Trump or politics — and he mentioned his belief that humans are hard-wired to grab onto “still frames,” that our individual and collective memories are intimately tied to static visuals. He explained that since the advent of photography entering public consciousness, our memories of significant events are inseparable from the related photos. It’s hard to argue with that. Think about the global conflicts of the late 19th and 20th centuries, the Moon landing, the greatest sporting achievements of the last century, or even life events that primarily matter to you and your loved ones. What shape do these memories take? Close your eyes — try it. My mind races with snapshots. For the most personal memories, these blips of visual splendor are flanked by countless associated memories and moments. A photograph presents so many opportunities for people to attach their own meanings and interpretations. While far from impossible with video, a photo is especially conducive to personal attachment and reflection. A picture provides the viewer with time and space that video, by virtue of its constant, rapid motion, cannot.
Even as social media platforms have pushed video content harder than ever (what has happened to Instagram?), and it seems that every camera manufacturer is obsessed with making vlogging cameras and elevating the video features of their newest models, the media that has been shared the most concerning the attempted assassination of Trump aren’t videos. They’re not clips or reels or moving pictures. They’re photos captured by heroic photojournalists. We have seen first-person views from photographers who captured the iconic photos, photos that show a bullet whizzing past the former president’s head, people have stolen pictures of the historic event to make a quick buck, violating copyright laws and basic decency. As so many have said, photos from the event are poised to fill the pages of history books for generations. Sure, videos have gone viral over the years, too, but not like this — not like photos have done. Motion is an effective way to tell stories, make art, and impact society. It is easier now than ever to view video — it’s everywhere. But I think that an important takeaway from last weekend’s violence and the way people have reacted to it in the aftermath is that photography, no matter what social media platforms and even some camera companies seem to think, is not going anywhere. No matter how easy it is now to capture and share video, photography hasn’t lost its power to captivate, elucidate, and impact the world.
