Things that go bump in the light

On portraits and phrenology: Meet Phil, who's been hanging around the house and has a lot on his mind.

|


TEXT AND PHOTOGRAPHS BY K.B. DIXON


The photographs here are of Phil (no last name). He is, for all his insinuations to the contrary, an inanimate object. A phrenological head made of stone and resin, he is one of those iffy bits of bric-a-bracery that occasionally make it into my office and stay. He is both a piece of comic commentary on pseudoscience and the symbolic embodiment of a portrait photographer’s dream—a subject whose character is literally written on his face.

Phrenology, a crackpot theory of the mind from the early years of the 19th century, was the “brainchild” of a Viennese physician by the name of Franz Joseph Gall. It purported to deduce a person’s character from the size, shape, and location of various bumps on one’s head. Those bumps were read like Tarot cards.

The phrenologists of today are the microexpressionists. These are not diminutive painters of subjective exaggerations, but lab-coated, algorithm-addled analyzers of facial expressions. While phrenologists studied the bumps on one’s head, microexpressionists study the twitches, bunches, and tics of one’s facial muscles. 

(A gaggle of practitioners ran Leonardo’s Mona Lisa through one of their emotion-recognition analyzers. After assessing, among other things, the curvature of the lips and the crinkling around the eyes [variations from something called the average “neutral” expression], they concluded their subject—Mona—was 83% happy, 9% disgusted, 6% fearful, and 2% angry.)

Although on firmer scientific ground than phrenology, microexpressionism as a critical tool is of no greater use to the portrait photographer. Studies suggest it might be helpful in detecting deception—in sorting out who has snatched your yogurt from the refrigerator at work—but it provides only the most cretinish counsel to anyone assessing a work of art. It would be like using a spectrometer to critique a sunset—factually accurate, perhaps, but essentially a desecration.

***

Phil #1, 2021.
Phil #2, 2021.
Phil #3, 2021.
Phil #4, 2021.
Phil #5, 2021.
Phil #6, 2021.
Phil #7, 2021.
Phil #8, 2021.

K.B. Dixon’s work has appeared in numerous magazines, newspapers, and journals. His most recent collection of stories, Artifacts: Irregular Stories (Small, Medium, and Large), was published in Summer 2022. The recipient of an OAC Individual Artist Fellowship Award, he is the winner of both the Next Generation Indie Book Award and the Eric Hoffer Book Award. He is the author of seven novels: The Sum of His SyndromesAndrew (A to Z)A Painter’s LifeThe Ingram InterviewThe Photo AlbumNovel Ideas, and Notes as well as the essay collection Too True, Essays on Photography, and the short story collection, My Desk and I. Examples of his photographic work may be found in private collections, juried exhibitions, online galleries, and at K.B. Dixon Images.

SHARE:
Portland Piano International Solo Piano Series Roman Rabinovich Portland Oregon
Kalakendra Presents Sangam Indian Instrument Music First Baptist Church Portland Oregon
Literary Arts Oregon Book Awards Portland Center Stage at the Armory Portland Oregon
Portland Opera Rusalka Keller Auditorium Portland Oregon
Northwest Dance Project Stravinsky Portand Oregon
White Bird Dance Paul Taylor Newmark Theatre Portland Oregon
Triangle Productions The Inheritance Portland Oregon
Northwest Dance Theatre Snow White Portland Community College Sylvania Campus Portland Oregon
Hallie Ford Museum of Art Willamette University Salem Oregon
BodyVox The Spin Dance Portland Oregon
PassinArt Seven Guitars Brunish Theatre Portland Oregon
Eugene Ballet Dance Hult Center Eugene Oregon
Bonnie Bronson Fellowship Award Oregon
Portland State University College of the Arts
Future Prairie Artist Collective Portland Oregon
We do this work for you.

Give to our GROW FUND.