Framing

Above: Untitled by William Eggleston

by Takuma Ono

A zen garden is in essence an abstract representation of nature, framed by some type of enclosure, right? We know that frames help tell a specific story, a specific point of view. When gardens are designed to tell a story, an enclosure can play a vital role in the telling of the story. Is there anything more to it? I did a bit of research on framing and here’s what I found.

Framing emerged as civilizations learned of its command over perception—by that I mean we, as a people, learned that seeing and recalling is not an innocent nor objective act; how Information is presented affects impressionability of information. It’s not so different from the framing effect. Framing commands a high level of influence on how information is received—so it didn’t take long for framing to be subverted in the interest of cultivating power.

Though an image may point to the past, an image can function as a compass. What history tells us is that when framing is applied with purpose, it is highly effective at influencing the masses; framed images provide affirmation through the narratives and meanings they hold—through the stories they tell.

As the adage goes, pictures are worth a thousand words—and it is so because pictures are felt—in the way music is felt. As sentient beings, we navigate life by way of feeling. As newborns, we look and feel.

Early artifacts of the Mesopotamian civilization include images carved into blocks of stone, which are in essence framed images. Framing may have spread from Mesopotamia to other ancient civilizations, including Chinese, Egyptian, Incan, Mayan, Persian, and Roman—where framing was adopted for creating meaning, for cultivating power. In time, the market for framed imagery expanded and with technology, images became ubiquitous.

Today, our smartphones bring framed images to our pockets.

All through history, framed subjects have evolved in tune with the stories that resonate with the times, with the era. When Instagram first arrived, nostalgia helped establish its reigns as a leading social media platform but what is relevant in terms of imagery does not cease to evolve.

The English word frame has its roots in the word from (fram), which denotes departure or movement away from—in time or space. The word frame and framing have been re-appropriated and have crossed over into the vernacular of various professions but the word generally tends to hold the same or similar meaning.

In the early years of human history, framing was utilized as a way of highlighting images of divinity, and such images were often created/placed in spaces that celebrated the divine.

In addition to framed images of the divine, framed views of landscape, seascape, and sky/sun were designed into sacred sites, These framed views often pointed to the residences of the divine. Think of the Parthenon, the Pyramids of Giza, and the Shrines built against the mountains of Japan and how the worshipers made their pilgrimages to these sites. Through association with the divine, the framed landscapes and seascapes also became something to be revered.

In the modern era, a significant paradigm shift in what it takes to be fulfilled is altering the relationships between people and their planet. As a result of this paradigm shift, many former sites of worship have been transformed into spectacles ripe for a more perverse form of devotion: consumption.

Take for example the recent transformation of the site of the Mayan ruins of Tulum, Mexico. The ruins sit atop a cliff overlooking the turquoise waters of the Caribbean Sea and a stunning sandy beach. In the past two decades, the site has been altered to include a shopping arcade, with a Starbucks and Subway sandwich shop. The ticketing agent, Laura, pushes the VIP package onto walk-in tourists, a package which includes a boat ride from the sandy beach—so that the ruins can be photographed out from the sea. The boat ride even includes free beverages and a free snorkel experience with turtles and rays.

In many ways, humans always have been consumers. After all, consumption of food, water, and oxygen is essential to survival. In the early years of civilization, maybe we simply consumed stories of deities because it fulfilled many needs—one of which was a therapeutic need. Perhaps the difference today is that the very act of consuming has become a source of fulfillment and therapy.

Online shopping, advertising, and influencing—the keystones of modern consumerism—undoubtedly contribute to, and accelerate this paradigm shift. That said, it is still on the individual to decide how and what to consume—consuming is a choice. (if you can manage to dodge the ads and influences)

Although the subject of worship and method of nature-preservation may continually change, our collective DNA remains relatively unchanged and the urge to be in connection with nature remains strong as ever. Our adoration of nature is timeless—and forever will be. Perhaps this is one explanation for why zen gardens appear so timeless.

For the generations following the boomers, a new human-environment relationship is being forged, and it rides on the back of consumerism (carbon capture, etc).

Are we at the initial stages of developing a kind of consumption that’s therapeutic for humans and the planet? Maybe—I don’t know.

One thing we can be certain about is that what we choose to place in the frame remains equally significant today as it was centuries ago. What image will you place in your frame?