From the Editor
Margaret Sadler | Editor-in-Chief, news&views
Ways of Seeing
In the early ’70s, John Berger and the BBC created a television series and book called Ways
of Seeing, which began, “Seeing comes before words. The child looks and recognizes before
it can speak.” It’s a challenge, therefore, to discuss a theme of vision in words. Better to give
you a picture book.
Berger describes how we bring
both objectivity and subjectivity
to our vision; his project raises
questions about the hidden
ideologies in visual images — now
you wish I had stuck to pictures!
What we say does not always
match what we see. What we see is
not always reflected in what we say.
Berger launches into a critique
of capitalism by examining
contemporary advertising. What
did you learn about men and
women in the advertising of the
’60s and ’70s? Men were men,
sitting high on horses against
unlimited horizons, while women
draped across cars and looked
adoringly at the men. Even the
“You’ve come a long way, Baby”
ads were hardly complimentary to
the women of 1968 (and were ads
for cigarettes specifically designed
for women).
We see differently than even the
generation before ours. Several
years after my father died, I
remember noticing someone on a
portable phone at a bus stop (it had
an antenna and looked nothing like
my iPhone); I knew that my father
would never be able to see what I
saw.
Much to our surprise, our yard
was nominated for a Front Yards
in Bloom award this year. When I
look at our yard, I see the weeds,
the quack grass, the wilted flowers;
someone else saw the blossoms
and the arc of purples. I passed one
judgement; they another.
We see and pass judgement in
the same moment — our culture
so deeply embedded. Our teacher
training taught us that history
never comes without bias, and
we are reminded of that through
the work of the Truth and
sight and belief without intention.
I see Africans in Edmonton and
smile, remembering friends from
our year in Mauritania. Other
Albertans bring their own values
when they see the same people.
But what if I see no one who looks
or dresses like my African friends?
What if I only see Indigenous
people downtown, but never in my
daily life — never rub shoulders
I can see clearly now the rain is gone,
I can see all obstacles in my way,
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind,
It’s gonna be a bright, bright sun-shiny day.
Reconciliation Commission. Of
course the history we learned in
our early schooling and then the
history we taught a generation
later came with bias. Individually
— and then collectively — we see
differently today.
We assume what we see is truth,
and yet we’ve all seen optical
illusions, like Escher’s unending
stairs. We know our eyes can be
fooled. We see our interpretation
of the faces, bodies, objects, and
events before us. I see friends in
some people and antagonists in
others. I see “foreign” in some
scenes and “familiar” in others.
What we see affects our values
and, equally so, our values affect
what we see. We cannot separate
with them? Seeing others means I
can believe in them.
We bring memory and value and
bias to every sight we see today.
Our vision for tomorrow is shaped
by today’s intentions. Our values
determine what and how we see.
Questioning our values allows us to
see things differently.
Music of the ’70s echoes in my
mind: Johnny Nash says that by
seeing clearly, he can now “see all
obstacles in [his] way.” The picture
he’s painted with words gives me a
fresh way of seeing my life.
news&views AUTUMN 2020 | 9