No one sees the barn

After reading a post ^[1] about watching the American Music Awards, I am reminded of a great passage from a book of the late 20th century White Noise by Don Delillo. ^{[2] [3]}

We drove 22 miles into the country around Farmington. There were meadows and apple orchards. White fences trailed through the rolling fields. Soon the signs started appearing. THE MOST PHOTOGRAPHED BARN IN AMERICA. We counted five signs before we reached the site. There were 40 cars and a tour bus in the makeshift lot. We walked along a cowpath to the slightly elevated spot set aside for viewing and photographing. All the people had cameras; some had tripods, telephoto lenses, filter kits. A man in a booth sold postcards and slides — pictures of the barn taken from the elevated spot. We stood near a grove of trees and watched the photographers. Murray maintained a prolonged silence, occasionally scrawling some notes in a little book.

“No one sees the barn,” he said finally.

A long silence followed.

“Once you’ve seen the signs about the barn, it becomes impossible to see the barn.”

He fell silent once more. People with cameras left the elevated site, replaced by others.

We’re not here to capture an image, we’re here to maintain one. Every photograph reinforces the aura. Can you feel it, Jack? An accumulation of nameless energies.”

There was an extended silence. The man in the booth sold postcards and slides.

“Being here is a kind of spiritual surrender. We see only what the others see. The thousands who were here in the past, those who will come in the future. We’ve agreed to be part of a collective perception. It literally colors our vision. A religious experience in a way, like all tourism.”

Another silence ensued.

“They are taking pictures of taking pictures,” he said.

He did not speak for a while. We listened to the incessant clicking of shutter release buttons, the rustling crank of levers that advanced the film.

“What was the barn like before it was photographed?” he said. “What did it look like, how was it different from the other barns, how was it similar to other barns? We can’t answer these questions because we’ve read the signs, seen the people snapping the pictures. We can’t get outside the aura. We’re part of the aura. We’re here. We’re now.”

I’m not so sure what to make of the passage, other than that it resonates deeply with me

1: David Humphrey, Bread and Circuits, 2009. I want your love

2: Don Delillo, White Noise. Viking, 1985

3: I actually remember first encountering this passage and, even though I held a library copy, I underlined every line of it. (If you end up with that copy from the MPLS library and you also happen to have read this, then let me know) I should mention that I came to White Noise after reading David Foster Wallace^[4], as I read somewhere that he had much enjoyed Mr. Delillo’s work.^[5]

4: David Foster Wallace, influential fiction and non-fiction writer of the early 21st century http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Foster_Wallace

5: cannot find citation, will work to correct this