We originally set out to make a book of photos that have been removed from Instagram because we and many of our peers are constantly frustrated by the censoring of our images. Can we make a ceremony for all the banned ig posts?
“Can we make a ceremony for all the banned ig posts?”
What started as a comment on a Facebook thread spiraled into something much larger and, as time progressed, more complicated.
Our choice to archive these “removed” images in a book parallels the elevation that happens when something is censored. This makes the image in question more important in our minds perhaps because we spend more time thinking about it.
Because digital media is seen as fleeting, taking the time to compile, edit, and physically print these “lost” images gives them more attention, letting them take up space and carry weight.
In order to collect content for the book we reached out to artists who had struggled with having content taken down, as well as put out on open call for submissions on Instagram itself. We quickly began to see patterns in the type of images that had been subjected to censorship. These include photographs of genitalia, bare butts, female nipples, period stains, liquids resembling semen or vaginal secretions, and pubic hair.
The book evolved into a conversation about bodies—specially, which bodies are seen as “dangerous” and which ones as “safe”.
“The book evolved into a conversation about bodies—specially, which bodies are seen as “dangerous” and which ones as “safe”.”
Pics or it Din’t Happen is not a book against censorship. Nor is it a book curated by people who want to do whatever they please, or believe society without morals would be a better place. This book is not a how-to guide on feminism.
Posting a nude selfie, or not posting any selfies at all, does not determinate wether you are a feminist.
Through this process we also discovered the traumatic and emotionally taxing labor that goes into censoring. This involves outsourcing low-paid workers to look at and evacuate explicit, graphic, and often violent imagery in order to keep the app “safe”, bringing into question whose safety is being protected, and why.
Edited by Arvida Bystrom & Molly Soda.
Order your copy here.