A Gallery for the Blind
by Patrick Johnston
Artist’s Statement: “The Gallery for the Blind” is a prose sequence that describes iconic photographs as if to someone who cannot see them. These pieces do not merely explain images; they question what is seen, who does the seeing, and what truth is lost in the telling. Each entry explores the emotional, political, and mythic weight of a moment frozen in time. This work aims to restore agency to the unseen, and complicate the comfortable narratives that often accompany famous images.
A Gallery for the Blind invites us, through the written word, to view a section of iconic images from the 20th and 21st Century, through new eyes.
Soul Thief:
It is August 14th, 1945. VJ Day in Times Square New York City. Tickertape festoons. The War is over. Alfred Eisenstaedt’s shutter snaps shut freezing a moment in eternity. Uniformed George Mendonsa, a sailor, is kissing dental assistant Greta Zimmer Friedman. People viewing the picture will for decades after, and perhaps for decades still to come, assume she is a nurse, since her white dress resembles a nurse’s uniform. Greta is leaning backwards, her head cradled in the crook of George’s left arm, as he kisses her mouth from above. His hand obscures her face. His right hand clasps her waist. Her arms are by her sides. Her right leg bent behind her body, white stocky heeled shoes. Onlookers, mostly civilians stand around. The moment is captured. The Kiss is not consensual. It is just a spur of the moment thing that George did. Greta has been given no agency in this situation. It is the spontaneous expression of joy and the triumph of the human spirit over adversity.
The photograph of bon vivant George Mendonosa and the recipient of his spontaneous display of exuberance, Greta Friedman is an enduring icon capturing a significant moment in history. It tells stories.
Greta is leaning backwards, her head cradled in the crook of George’s left arm, as he kisses her mouth from above. His hand obscures her face. His right hand clasps her waist. Her arms are by her sides. Her right leg bent behind her body, white stocky heeled shoes. Onlookers, mostly civilians stand around. The moment is captured. The Kiss is not consensual. It is just a spur of the moment thing that George did. Greta has been given no agency in this situation. It is the spontaneous act of a self-entitled white man without regard for what consequences his actions might have upon others. It is an act that denies Greta’s wishes, feelings, and choices, and in doing so steals a part of her soul.
The photograph of soul thief George Mendonosa and his victim, Greta Friedman is an enduring icon capturing a significant moment in history. It tells stories.
Nonchalant Soldiers:
June 8th, 1972, Trảng Bàng, South Vietnam, Associated Press photographer Nick Ut captures a timeless and disturbing image.
The road in widescreen perspective, fields at each side, but vanishing point is obscured by clouds of smoke. A small fragile naked girl is the central focus. Dark hair merging into the uniform of the soldier who walks behind her. Her arms flailing like a fledgling bird that struggles to take flight, her wrists flapping. Skinny ribs and emaciated belly. Her mouth is a dark open gash. The girl is Phan Thi Kim Phuc. She is nine years old. She will later recall that she was repeating the words Nóng quá, nóng quá ("So hot, so hot").
Uniformed men walk at the rear as though they are shepherding the children, their gait almost nonchalant in contrast to the urgent motion of the children before them. A small boy in a white chemise looks back past the soldiers at some horror that we cannot see. To the right, a soldier paused to light a cigarette. Slightly behind him, to his right, two children holding hands. Older sister and younger brother perhaps. She wears black pants and a white shirt. He wears pyjamas. They run ahead of the nonchalant soldiers.
Flotsam:
A beach near the town of Akyarlar, a small village on the Bodrum Peninsula. The composition is well structured. Gentle shallows; the Rule of Thirds captured in the moment. At the top of the image the waters edge washes two thirds across, from left to right, white and frothy. The sand is wet. On the left hand side, the water extends two thirds of the way down the image. Top to bottom. Below, the sand is wet, like the boys clothes.
The dead boy is the central focus of the image. He is young, perhaps two or three years old. He lies, horizontal across the image, close-cropped hair, red t-shirt, blue pants, black sneakers with tan plastic soles. His left arm, his belly, and his left leg exposed, revealing pale skin. His face is in the shallows.
He looks peaceful. Just something that the waves washed up. To his right, the sand is drier where his body blocks and diverts the incoming tide.
Hidden Lead:
The image does not capture the bullet, since it is inside Nguyễn Văn Lém‘s skull at the moment the shutter snapped. The grimace on his face must be anticipatory. The shot has been fired. The event horizon has been crossed. Nguyễn Văn Lém is already dead, not in a final sense, but in an inevitable sense. He stands, wearing a plaid shirt.
A light multi-storey building forms the pyramidal peak of the image. Nguyễn Ngọc Loan dominates the left hand side. His hair is cropped short as he faces his victim. His sleeveless combat smock has a light blotch at the centre of his back. His uniformed shirt is shortsleeved. His bared arm stretches out across the centre of the image holding his .38 Special Smith & Wesson Bodyguard revolver towards the victim. Behind him to the left a helmeted soldier bares his teeth. The standing corpse, Nguyễn Văn Lém, dominates the right hand side of the image. Behind him, a civilian building.
Photographer Eddie Adams later expressed regret at taking and publishing the image, saying that two people died in that instant. Nguyễn Ngọc Loan killed Nguyễn Văn Lém. And Eddie Adams killed Nguyễn Ngọc Loan. The former death was literal. The latter was metaphorical.
All of the participants in this three way drama are now deceased.
The Light:
I am the light
The light pours out of me
HE IS ON FIRE!
The location is Phan Đình Phùng Boulevard, Saigon.
The date is 11th June, 1963
The man is Thích Quảng Đức
HE IS ON FIRE!
The accelerant is petrol
It burns at 815 degrees C
The man is Thích Quảng Đức
His beliefs and way of life are under siege by the government
His body is under siege by the flames
He is the light
The light pours out of him
HE IS ON FIRE!
Chanting monks bear silent witness
They are his brothers and his honour guard
There are civilians
Some wail, some pray, some join the chanting of the monks
There are police. They do not intervene
I am the light
The light pours out of me
Skin ruptures. Subcutaneous fat begins to melt. Organs begin to cook. Nerve endings scream and burn out.
The man Thích Quảng Đức is silent, still, perfect.
HE IS ON FIRE!
He is the light. The light pours out of him.
The car is blue. The petrol can is white. The monks’ robes are saffron. The flames are orange. The image is black and white.
A Simulacrum:
The image is a simulacrum. It is an icon of an icon. The woman in the picture does not exist. She wears a white halter-neck dress. It’s pleated skirts billow like angel wings from a gust of air emitted from the subway vent grate on which she stands.
Coiffured platinum blonde, she smiles brightly. Coquettish. Her right hand is raised to her face. Her left hand holds the skirts to protect her modesty. She wears white high heeled shoes. The smile is for the camera. The image is a scene from a movie. Except it isn’t. It was photographed independently of the movie shoot as a promotion tool.
The image is of Marilyn Monroe. The woman is Norma Jean Baker. She is pretending to be Marilyn Monroe pretending to be “The Girl”. She is in New York pretending to be on a movie set pretending to be in n New York.
The photograph was taken on September 15th, 1954. It is one of the most reproduced images of the 20th Century.
Norma Jean died by her own hand 2,884 days after this image was taken. Everybody remembers Marilyn Monroe. Perhaps a handful of living souls remember Norma Jean.
The image is a simulacrum.
Shopping Trip:
The scene took place on Chang’an Avenue, Beijing on 5th June, 1989.
The machines of war are there as an intentional symbol of power. The man makes a radical individual choice to make a symbolic act. He does not know that it will be captured as a photograph.
The machines of war form an upward diagonal line across the right hand side of the image slicing the frame like a heraldic bend. Stark camouflage against the grey pavement background, white lines to impose order.
There are four battle tanks. There is one man. He wears a white long sleeved shirt, and dark pants. Urban camouflage. He blends in. He could be anybody. We will never know who he is.
He holds a plastic carrier bag in his left hand. He has been shopping. For some reason on the 5th of June, 1989, he decided he had had enough. we will never know why. He stands still facing the tanks. Blocking the tanks.
Two thirds of the way across the image, kitchy bauble Chinese streetlights.
Andy, did you hear about this one?
So far from humanity.
The landscape is vast, empty, ash gray and pocked with craters. Unearthly. A man stands in a cumbersome white “suit”.
So far from anyone, the light reflects from the man’s visor. We cannot see his face. His name is Buzz Aldrin. His suit carries appendages and appliances that support his life.
There are prints in the ash-like dust, like first foot’s on virgin snow.
He stands, alone on the surface of the moon.
Another scene within a scene is reflected in his visor…
Metres from him is the photographer. His distorted image, alongside the lunar landing module masks Aldrin’s face. The photographer’s name is Neil Armstrong. His giant leap was a small step from the shoulders of giants.
2159 miles away from him Michael Collins drifts in space, alone. Nobody remembers him.
He’s so far from the World as he knows it, and he feels fine.
Moulded from Clay:
Fight! There’s a fight!
Two fit muscled black men, wearing shorts, padded gloves, and boots. Shining with sweat. One lies prone at the front of the image. Black shorts, his right knee raised, his hands above his head as if in surrender.
The other towers above him. White shorts. His right arm hooked across his abdomen and chest. His left arm hangs by his side. He IS power incarnate.
His new name is Muhammad Ali. He has surrendered. He looks down at the defeated Sonny Liston. His open mouth taunts “get up and fight sucker”. They within an enclosure bounded by ropes. Behind them a sea of white faces look on. Some take photographs.
The year is 1965. Black men are prized for their athletic prowess. In Sixteen states it is illegal for them to marry white women.
Two strong Black Men fight within a ring. They are within an enclosure bounded by prejudice.
Red in tooth and claw:
There is no red in the picture. The two participants in the captured drama are dark in colour. One has dark skin, the other has dark feathers. Both are animals. One is a mature opportunistic scavenger bird of the species Necrosyrtes monachus, the other is an infant hominid of the species Homo sapiens. It is a wildlife photograph. A vulture and a sick, weak human child. There is an unspoken code of observational non-intervention.
The child is in the right foreground of the image. On all fours, head too big, resting on the dirt. Belly distended, arms and legs like sticks. Ribs protruding. He is severely malnourished. He wears a string of white beads round his neck, and a white bracelet around his skinny wrist.
To the left, further back in the frame, the scavenger waits. Patient. Watchful. The child is its intended victim.
The child is victim of a famine that is entirely man-made. A brutal combination of political instability, civil war, scorched earth tactics and international apathy. Observational non-intervention.
The moment is frozen in time. There is still time for the photographer to relinquish his code.
You couldn’t hear a pin drop:
Framed according to convention. He is centred two thirds of the way up the image. He faces the left. Faceside the building is striped vertical light grey and black lines. Behind him, light grey and white.
What is he thinking?
My wife?
My husband?
My man?
My woman?
My child?
My children?
My mother?
My father?
My parents? My family? My loves?
My God?
Bastards?
Bastards! Bastards! BASTARDS!!!
Who would have thought it would take this long?
The date is the 11th of September, 2001. The man drops, almost pin straight, but his left leg is bent as though to take a step. He drops. Head first.
In a situation where no choices are possible, he has made a choice. We do not know his name.
Deus ex Machina:
An elderly man, dressed in white, wearing gold-rimmed spectacles fills the frame. His face three-quarter view looking to the right. He wears a white skull cap. He wears a large ornate crucifix, wood and silver on a silver chain around his neck. He carries a water bottle in his left hand. He wears a long pure white puffa-jacket. He looks schmick as all fuck. He is the Pope. The leader of the Catholic Church. He is God’s representative on earth to approximately 1.3 billion people.
Approximately one fifth of the global population. He is a real man. It is a “real image” in so far as it exists. It does not depict a real event. The image was created by a sophisticated computer algorithm of a class known as a Generative Artificial Intelligence. Such algorithms are trained to extract the basic atoms and structural archetypes of images by analysing millions of examples. And then one can ask them to, for instance, generate an image of the Pope wearing a puffa-jacket. Et voila!
Many people, particularly NonCatholics, think of the Pope as an archaic figure whose power peaked in the medieval period. This view may be mistaken. Historically the World’s information network restricted the Pope’s reach. This has changed.
Etymology: Pope comes form Latin “papa” meaning “father.”
Puff-Daddy’s in da house.
Your house.
On your screen.
Mind how you go:
Blue. Predominantly Blue. The top half translucent swimming pool cerulean. Rippled. The bottom half turquoise-aqua.
The line has a hook. The hook is baited. The bait is as old as sin.
The human baby floats just below the surface of the pool. You can see that he is male. Classic skydiver pose. The montage has been posed to imply that the naked baby chases the dollar.
When the image first appeared you had to pay to own it. But the image wasn’t the product. It was just part of the packaging. The circular disk of vinyl inside the imaged sleeve wasn’t really the product either. The real product was information, in the form of music, etched and encoded as small ripples inside a thin spiralled groove circling towards the centre of the vinyl disk. The image was not the product. But it has become a fetish.
The baby was Spencer Elden at 4 months old. He grew to be a boy. Grew to be a man. The image has been with him nearly all of his life. At some points he has used it as a flex. At other times he has claimed that the image exploited and abused him. The image remains a static moment captured in time. Its meaning changes over time.
Mirror Image:
Geordie Brealey’s moustache is magnificent. He is a northern working class bandido, complete with Bandido Moustache and Bandido Hat. He is an enemy of the state. His Bandido Hat is a toy “police-man’s” hat - properly called a Custodian’s Helmet. Such helmets are made from hard padded thermoplastics to provide protection. Brealey’s Custodian Helmet is made soft felt. He has weaponised it as Irony.
Brealey’s head and upper torso fill the right side of the frame. He stands opposite a wall of cops, on the left hand side of the image. Dark uniforms all round. Brealey wears a dark jacket over a light coloured sweater. He is facing one particular cop. They eyeball each other.
He is a miner. He pretends he is a lawman. He is confronted by real lawmen. The Government frame him as a lawless bandit. The Government have sent the real lawmen to break a strike.
Geordie Brealey is pretending he is a lawman. In fact he is samurai. His resolve is perfect. His poise is perfect. His face holds a hint of smiling mockery. He knows the score. He sees things as they are. He and The Cop look each other in the eye.
They are both working class Englishmen.
Which side are you on boys? Which side are you on?
Framed:
It’s there in black and white. The big guy just shot the little guy. The little guy is hurting bad. You can see it on his face. You can’t see the big guys face. Just the back of his head. He has dark hair. His hat is grey with a black band. From behind you could imagine he is Oliver Hardy. Stanley, now look what you made him go and do.
The little guy, falling, is in the centre of the shot. The big guy with the gun is on the right and closer to the camera. The left side of the image is dominated by a large man wearing a light coloured suit and a light coloured fedora. He is in motion - his position awkward, in surprise - a half grimace on his face. Men behind. Standing. Looking. Watching. Mostly in dark clothes. One, wearing a light garbadine and spectacles, to the fire right of the image holds a microphone, but he is not speaking. Behind them, bricks. There are no women in the photograph.
The falling guy is Lee Harvey Oswald. He is accused of assassinating 35th President of the United States, John F Kennedy, two days previously. His innocence or guilt will never be established. Doubt remains.
It is beyond all reasonable doubt that the big guy, Jack Ruby, murdered Lee Harvey Oswald in cold blood. In front of multiple witnesses. Captured on film. In black and white. Framed by the lens of Bob Jackson.
Onwards!
A street corner in Paris.
He’s on a mission. The wine bottles are almost as big as he is. One in each arm. He is a charming scruff, his belt buckle and shirt peaking from beneath his jersey. His shorts baggy, ill-fitting with heavy creases. Knees and sandals. Unruly hair. He looks slightly up and to his right. His face is a picture. He is walking past a shop on the right of the image. A restaurant maybe, or a bar tabac.
A couple of young girls in the street behind him to the left of the image. One of them looks at the cameraman. Black skirt, white shoes, white cardigan. At the top of the image the scene blurs as women walk, further, back down the street.
His face is a picture. Il est fier. He is proud. The pride shines from his face. The pride is bigger than the bottles. He is proud to be performing the important duty of delivery the libation of celebration. The adults are waiting for him. They will celebrate his arrival.
It is August 1944. Paris is liberated. The forces of darkness are in retreat. We look forward to a bright and prosperous future. Feel the fier.
Photo Credits:
1. Soul Thief
• Real title: V-J Day in Times Square
• Date: August 14, 1945
• Photographer: Alfred Eisenstaedt
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2. Nonchalant Soldiers
• Real title: The Terror of War (aka “Napalm Girl”)
• Date: June 8, 1972
• Photographer: Nick Ut
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3. Flotsam
• Real title: Alan Kurdi on the beach
• Date: September 2, 2015
• Photographer: Nilüfer Demir
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4. Hidden Lead
• Real title: Execution of Nguyễn Văn Lém
• Date: February 1, 1968
• Photographer: Eddie Adams
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5. The Light
• Real title: Self-Immolation of Thích Quảng Đức
• Date: June 11, 1963
• Photographer: Malcolm Browne
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6. A Simulacrum
• Real title: Marilyn Monroe – The Seven Year Itch publicity shot
• Date: September 15, 1954
• Photographer: Sam Shaw
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7. Shopping Trip
• Real title: Tank Man, Tiananmen Square
• Date: June 5, 1989
• Photographer: Jeff Widener (most iconic), also Stuart Franklin and Charlie Cole
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8. Andy, did you hear about this one?
• Real title: Buzz Aldrin on the Moon (AS11-40-5903)
• Date: July 20, 1969
• Photographer: Neil Armstrong
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9. Moulded from Clay
• Real title: Muhammad Ali vs. Sonny Liston II
• Date: May 25, 1965
• Photographer: Neil Leifer
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10. Red in Tooth and Claw
• Real title: The Vulture and the Little Girl
• Date: March 1993
• Photographer: Kevin Carter
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11. You couldn’t hear a pin drop
• Real title: The Falling Man
• Date: September 11, 2001
• Photographer: Richard Drew
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12. Deus ex Machina
• Real title: AI-generated image of Pope Francis in a puffer jacket
• Date: March 2023
• Artist: Midjourney AI, viral post by Pablo Xavier (Reddit)
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13. Mind how you go
• Real title: Nevermind Album Cover (Nirvana)
• Date: 1991 (image shot in summer of 1991)
• Photographer: Kirk Weddle
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14. Mirror Image
• Real title: Geordie Brealey standoff during UK Miners’ Strike
• Date: 1984–85
• Photographer: John Harris
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15. Framed
• Real title: Jack Ruby Shoots Lee Harvey Oswald
• Date: November 24, 1963
• Photographer: Bob Jackson
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16. Onwards!
• Real title: Boy with Wine – Liberation of Paris
• Date: August 1944
• Photographer: Robert Doisneau
BIO: Patrick Johnston is an Anglo-Australian writer based in Southeast Asia. His work explores memory, image, grief, and collapse across fiction, poetry, and hybrid forms. He is the author of The Gaps Between the Stories, Hidden Like Rice, and The WilderWalk, with recent work published in Love and Literature and other journals.