Trump and Reporters on the South Lawn: Getting Stranger by the Day
by Michael Shaw
With the death of the White House press briefing and the presidential press conference, these South Lawn encounters are really all that’s left of a regular exchange between Trump and the press.
The scene above, by Evan Vucci, could be called your standard fare — meaning, a picture that is indistinguishable from those conducted over the years with other Commanders in Chief before flying off on Marine One.
But, as we know, “standard,” “normal,” or “regular” are not terms that apply to Trump and his presidency, and these driveway encounters haven’t been either.
If anything, these episodes provide a consistent backdrop against which to observe the president’s oft-repeated moves. In this case, the push back, the keeping inquiring minds at bay, the enforcement of one version of the facts.
This shot by Mark Wilson goes fist in glove with total control. That’s the signal which, depending on the moment and the mood, can stand for: party’s over; I’m sick of you; or the combination.
Still another feature in the rotation was captured on a Friday afternoon last November. That’s when Trump, responding to a question about whatever hot water he was in at the moment, lashed out at CNN journalist Abby Phillips for asking what Trump called “a stupid question.” Then, to dig his white self even deeper, he piled on, saying he had been watching Phillips, and that she (the Harvard grad) asks “a lot of stupid questions.”
But the reason I’m writing this now is because the South Lawn photos have become flat out bizarre lately. Specifically, I’m talking about the shots from last Friday’s encounter, right after the Justice Department assumed authorship over the Mueller Report, and just before Trump headed off to Mar-a-Lago.
If these photos sprinkle a little vinegar, I guess it’s understandable. After all, having your professionalism, your patriotism, and your basic safety thrown in your face on a continuous basis could alter anyone’s sense of composition. Or, it could just be that the photos confirm that we’re all sharing a bad acid trip.
In this case, Carlos Barria spares us the insufferable, throwing the main focus, instead, on the press pool’s main prop. In the symbolic realm, those poles can function like tentacles, spider legs, jousting lances. Trump may be the ring master, but devoid of a head, those sticks suggest their own force field.
In Olivier Douliery’s shot last Friday, we get a classic Trump sign off, but we also get the more prominent, reciprocal, disembodied hand. Way back when, reporters simply had to raise their hand and then the President would choose them out and actually answer their question. This hand, “on the other hand,” seems to call out the Coen Brothers. It’s like a media scrum phantom limb; the ghost reflex of the unrequited.
And finally, there is this from Evan Vucci.
Besides the digit that could kill, there’s the odd element of that tartan embellished hand with the microphone we saw in the Barria pic. Except now, it’s flexed backward. I’d say there are two good explanations for what is happening here. One is that Trump, like an evil sorcerer, is forcing the recording device away with his magic finger. Or, there’s the possibility, channeling the resistance, that the hand and the mic are flexing back to spring back hard the other way.
Originally published by Reading The Pictures, the only site dedicated to the daily review of news and documentary photography. Sign up for the Reading The Pictures Week in Re-View email. Follow us on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.
