The True Meaning of Pictures: Shelby Lee Adams' Appalachia

• Published in: Take 1 (Toronto. 1992) Vol. 11; no. 41; pp. 37 - 39
• Main Author: Cummins, Kathleen
• Format: Magazine Article
• Language: English
• Published: Toronto Canadian Independent Film & Television Publishing Association 01.03.2003; Wyndham Wise
• Subjects: Adams, Shelby L; Baichwal, Jennifer; Canadian movies; Motion pictures; Movie reviews
• ISSN: 1192-5507

Even if [Shelby Lee Adams] forgets he's the man behind the camera, [Jennifer Baichwal] never does. She intercuts Adams's explanations and analysis with various differing and seemingly well-informed arguments. His supporters rally around the issue of his impressive artistry and craft as a photographer. His subjects argue Adams is only documenting the modern-day reality of Appalachia, a reality that is largely ignored by mainstream American culture. Adams's detractors have accused him of exploiting his disenfranchised subjects in his own personal staging of an Appalachian horror show, feeding into well-established negative stereotypes of the "hillbilly" as violent, uneducated and shiftless as seen in such films as John Boorman's Deliverance (1972). Local Kentucky natives are deeply offended, claiming his work denigrates Appalachia and the South. One critic refers to Adams's subjects as "people I really would not want to meet in a dark alley at night." Another critic notes: "Is this their inner life or Shelby's inner life being reflected here? If this is presented as Shelby Lee Adams's southern-gothic poetry of Appalachia, that's one thing, but if this is presented as documentation of Appalachia, then that's something else entirely." Although Baichwal seemingly does not push Adams to make such a distinction--even though perhaps the distinction is extremely difficult to make--he is unable or perhaps unwilling to do so. Without ever placing Adams on trial, Baichwal allows intentions and meanings to slowly reveal themselves. (Baichwal's realm is the antithesis of the Michael Moore school of documentary filmmaking). In one telling moment, Adams reveals more about his problematic role in "documenting" Appalachia than any of his video archives or passionate declarations of cultural identification. Adams tells of how his father, as a doctor, would visit the most isolated families. "Although my father had prejudiced views, I came to know those people." Here is revealed the inner conflict in Adams, and within America in general. The distinction between "his people" and "those people" is not about regionalism or even his vocation as a photographer. It's about class.