Marey could not render time and space, the two
characteristics of movement, with equal emphasis. If he wanted
the muscular forms clearly represented, he had to record the
phases of the movement more slowly, creating gaps. If he wanted
to increase the number of images to render the temporal element
more vividly, then the increased speed would result in confusing
superimposition. The way he resolved this problem was to operate
against our usual understanding of photography, that cameras
inherently replicate all detail visible to the eye, that
photography is the guarantor of the visible. For it was
precisely the surfeit of detail frozen by Marey's camera that
was obscuring what he wanted really to see - the clear
expression, or, we could say visualization, of movement. It was
the camera's duplication of the seeming normalcy of vision that
Marey had to supersede in order to find the vision beyond sight.
Operating on the subject (the Georges Demenÿ) this time, rather
than the camera, he eliminated the confusing superimposition,
first by covering the offending limbs in black velvet,
|
and then by covering the whole body in
black and marking its joints in white. Now he
had pure movement detached from the performer,
conveyed in a graphic form, and a photographic
image totally without precedent. Marey called
the method chronophotography. * |
|
* Marey
continued to test other systems that were variations on his
basic principle of displacing the onward movements of a subject
onto a successive part of a single plate in a single camera.
First, and perhaps most obviously, he tried producing separate
instantaneous pictures by moving the plate horizontally behind
the lens. In the examples which survive from this experiment (which,
are all of athletes and gymnasts, suggesting Demenÿ's hand in
the experiment), the distance between one phase and another is
so great that the individual images are of distinct poses, not
phases of a single movement. Marey left no record of how he
moved the plate, and the experiment was short lived.