Since its invention in the 19th century, photography has oscillated between truth and fiction, documentation and imagination. Initially celebrated for its ability to capture reality with mechanical precision, it has continuously evolved, redefining its relationship with painting, visual culture, and technology while also shaping our approach to the world—or rather, the worlds we live in. In this presentation, I will briefly show that we have always wanted to explore and consequently see different realities, even when the complexity of our world was still understated. The photographic medium, by all means, shapes our understanding of the world and worlds, but foremost, it is a carrier of our desire to invent and reshape.

As theorists such as Roland Barthes and Susan Sontag have argued, photography has never been a neutral reflection of reality but rather a constructed form of representation, shaped by framing, selection, and context. This is even more relevant in the digital age, where image manipulation and artificial intelligence (AI) have further advanced our relationship with the image. Photography, once seen as a tool for capturing objective truth, has become a medium for constructing subjective realities, blurring the lines between fact and fiction.

Before the advent of photography, painting was the dominant visual medium for capturing and interpreting the world. However, the invention of photography in the 19th century challenged painting’s role as a documentary tool, leading some artists to fear its replacement. The painter Paul Delaroche famously declared, “From today, painting is dead.” Instead of replacing painting, photography transformed it, inspiring movements like Impressionism, Surrealism, and Cubism—movements that embraced subjectivity and abstraction rather than mimetic representation. In that light, rather than embracing photography’s mechanical precision, the Pictorialist movement (late 19th to early 20th century) sought to elevate photography to the status of fine art. Figures like Alfred Stieglitz and Edward Steichen experimented with soft focus, alternative printing techniques, and staged compositions to create images that resembled paintings. This long-standing relationship between the two media, instead of just being interpreted as antagonistic in terms of resemblance, could also be understood as a competing relationship in terms of reshaping the eidolon.

This was followed by another approach a bit later, with French humanist photography of the mid-20th century, which focused on daily life, social interaction, and emotion.

Now the focus was on different time scales, reshaping the eidolon by swiftly reacting, as it were, to some of its aspects: Robert Doisneau (Le Baiser de l’Hôtel de Ville, (1950) captured spontaneous, romanticized moments of Parisian life; Willy Ronis, with works such as Le Petit Parisien (1952), emphasized working-class dignity in post-war France, while Édouard Boubat sought timeless beauty, focusing on nostalgia and universal themes. But as stated above, there are many realities in different parts of the world forming our glance. While French humanists celebrated tenderness and optimism, Robert Frank, at the other end of the ocean, with The Americans (1958), took a harsher, more fragmented approach, rejecting aestheticized compositions in favor of raw, unfiltered social critique. His work exposed the contradictions of American life—poverty alongside wealth, alienation within modernity—and laid the foundation for a whole school of photography aspiring to make engaging images; realities that we inhabited but perhaps turned away from.

Yet our desire to see realities also comes from introducing different visual strategies heavily leaning on fiction and staged composition. There is Sophie Calle (Suite Vénitienne, 1980), who blurs the line between documentation and performance, questioning surveillance and voyeurism; Cindy Sherman (Untitled Film Stills, 1977-1980), constructing fictional female archetypes, exposing photography’s role in identity construction; Arthur Tress (Dream Collector, 1970-1974), translating children’s nightmares into surreal compositions, proving photography can document psychological states; Nan Goldin (The Ballad of Sexual Dependency, 1986), merging documentary and performance, capturing raw, intimate realities of love, addiction, and violence; and Duane Michals (The Spirit Leaves the Body, 1968), challenging the limitations of single-frame photography, using sequential storytelling to suggest metaphysical themes.

There is a lot, and there is even so much more. But what I am trying to underline is our desire to see realities and our understanding of how image makers intervene, manipulate, and construct this relationship with the image. And, of course, on the other end, how people receive it and how we might claim that we want to see different realities but, for various reasons, are unable to. In this framework, one cannot omit our changing position toward images that used to shape public opinion, often influencing political action.

For example Nick Ut’s seminal image of the Napalm Girl (1972) helped shift public opinion against the Vietnam War, demonstrating photography’s power to influence global sentiment. That was in the 1970s. And still, a couple of decades later, the world was struck by Kevin Carter’s The Vulture and the Little Girl (1993). The picture became a symbol of famine, raising ethical debates about whether photographers should document or intervene. But what happened when Alan Kurdi (2015) took a picture of the drowned Syrian child? Even though engraved in our memory as a tragic image, it has become one of a trillion tragic images circulating in the media, condemned to disappear through its duplication. It all becomes part of the information out there—a cold reality detached from us. The aura of the images is eroded.

Jean Baudrillard had foreseen this decades ago, but it seems that now his theory of simulacra and hyperreality provides a fitting framework for understanding photography’s transformation in the AI era. Baudrillard argued that in contemporary society, images no longer represent reality but rather simulations of reality, leading us to live in a state of hyperreality, where representations exist without a stable reference to an external truth.

AI systems like DALL-E, Midjourney, and Stable Diffusion synthesize the world, drawing on vast datasets of past images to generate convincing yet entirely fictitious visuals. These images exist within Baudrillard’s concept of hyperreality, where the line between authenticity and fabrication becomes increasingly blurred. As we move further into an era where images are increasingly autonomously generated, our relationship to visual culture, memory, and evidence must be critically examined. Photography is actively constructing new realities. As we stand at the intersection of technological advancement and artistic innovation, it is essential to reflect on the realities we choose to create, consume, and believe in. As the medium becomes more accessible through smartphones and social media, the line between creator and consumer has blurred. Everyone with a camera can now contribute to the visual narrative of our world, but this democratization comes with challenges. The sheer volume of images produced daily-estimated in the billions-has led to what some theorists call "visual overload." In this flood of imagery, meaningful photographs risk being drowned out by the noise of trivial or manipulated content. The ethical responsibility of photographers, therefore, extends beyond the act of capturing an image; it includes considering how that image will be received and interpreted in a world saturated with visuals. Visual literacy-the ability to critically analyze, contextualize, and question images-is now more crucial than ever.

This means questioning the motives behind a photograph, the context in which it was created, and the ways in which it is disseminated. It also means recognizing the power dynamics at play—who gets to represent whom, and whose stories are left untold. By engaging with photography critically, we can resist the allure of hyperreality and reclaim a sense of agency over the images we consume. At the same time, we must also embrace the imaginative potential of photography. The medium has always been a space for experimentation, for pushing the boundaries of what is possible. From the surreal compositions of Man Ray to the conceptual works of Hiroshi Sugimoto, photography has the power to transport us to alternate realities, challenging our perceptions and expanding our horizons. In the age of AI, this potential is amplified, offering new ways to explore the interplay between reality and fiction. Rather than fearing these developments, we can view them as an opportunity to reimagine the world and our place within it.

Ultimately, the realities we want to see are shaped by our values, our aspirations, and our willingness to engage with the world in all its complexity. Photography reflects these desires back to us, inviting us to question, to empathize, and to imagine. As we move forward, it is up to us to decide what kind of realities we want to create-and what kind of world we want to inhabit. Projects like Sebastião Salgado’s Genesis (2013) demonstrate the medium’s ability to highlight pressing global issues, from environmental degradation to human rights. Such work reminds us that photography, at its best, can bridge divides, foster empathy, and inspire action. However, this potential is contingent on the ethical use of the medium. Photographers must navigate complex moral terrain, balancing the desire to tell compelling stories with the need to respect their subjects’ dignity and agency. What realities do we, as a society, want to prioritize and preserve? This question is not just about photography but about the very essence of how we perceive and interact with the world. Photography, as a medium, will continue to evolve, but its power to shape our understanding of reality will remain as long as we continue to engage with it critically and creatively.

In conclusion, photography’s evolution from a mechanical tool to a multifaceted medium reflects broader shifts in how we understand and engage with reality. As we grapple with the challenges of the digital age-from AI-generated imagery to visual overload-we must also recognize the opportunities photography offers for creativity, connection, and change. By fostering visual literacy and ethical practices, we can ensure that photography continues to serve as a mirror to our world, reflecting both its beauty and its complexities. The realities we choose to see and create through photography will shape not only our understanding of the present but also our vision for the future.