Photography Is Not Neutral: Why Framing Matters

Memory & Erasure
April 19, 2025

“A frame does more than contain. It decides what gets seen.”

There’s a myth we’ve been taught to believe:
That photographs are truth. That the camera simply records what’s in front of it. That a photograph is neutral—unchanged by the hands that made it or the lens that captured it.

But here’s the reality:
Photography is never neutral.
It is a choice. A perspective. A cultural act of inclusion—and exclusion.

And the frame?
It determines what history remembers.

Framing Shapes Memory

A photograph doesn’t just show us what was—it shapes how we remember it.

What gets included in the frame is just as important as what’s left out:

Who is centered? Who is cropped?
What moment is captured—and which one is ignored?
Who is documented in public archives, and who was never photographed at all?

Every photograph is an act of selection, and therefore, of power.

This is not new. Governments have used photographs for propaganda. Colonial empires used them to document “the other.” Media outlets choose which images to broadcast, reinforcing stereotypes or silencing empathy.

And today, with so many archives digitized, we’re left with another pressing question:

Who decides what stays visible—and what quietly disappears?

History Is Not Just What Happened—It’s What Was Framed

Public memory is built from images:
Civil rights marches, protest signs, military portraits, newspaper front pages, viral videos.

But there are gaps.
People who were never photographed. Stories that were never told. Records destroyed or removed because they were inconvenient.

And even among what remains, some images are quietly buried in underfunded archives or stripped from public databases due to political pressure.

This is why framing matters.
Because history is not just preserved—it’s curated.
And if we don’t question the frame, we accept someone else’s version of truth.

The Power—and Responsibility—of the Curator

At The Framekeeper Project, we don’t treat images as static objects.
We see them as living records of perspective, agency, and erasure.

We ask:

Why was this image taken?
Who took it?
Who was it for?
Who wasn’t included—and why?
And what do we do with that knowledge now?

We preserve public domain photographs not just because they’re free—but because they’re vulnerable. Because they tell stories that were nearly lost. Because they require care, context, and compassionate stewardship.

Curation is not decoration.
It is a cultural act.

The Frame Is Political

It’s easy to believe that if an image exists, it speaks for itself.
But the camera, like the archive, is never without agenda.

In the 1800s, Native American leaders were photographed in Western clothing to suggest assimilation.
During the Civil Rights era, peaceful protestors were often cropped out of frame—leaving only burning buildings.
Public health photos have been used to shame or scapegoat marginalized groups.
In recent years, images have been quietly removed from government sites that once honored Black soldiers, Indigenous code talkers, or reproductive justice advocates.

Framing is how power gets visualized.
And un-framing—or reframing—is how truth is reclaimed.

Framekeeper’s Philosophy: Remember on Purpose

The Framekeeper Project exists because some truths were nearly erased—not by accident, but by design.

We preserve public domain materials from sources like the Library of Congress and National Archives. But we do more than download and store. We re-contextualize, organize, and frame with intention.

We do not exploit.
We do not strip memory of its meaning.
We do not remove the story from the photograph.

We keep the image—and the weight of what it represents—together.

Because photography has the power to dehumanize. But it also has the power to restore humanity.

Reframing Our Role as Viewers

We are not just consumers of history.
We are participants in how it is remembered.

So ask yourself:

When I share this photo, what story am I telling?
When I post an archive image, am I honoring its context?
When I use an image for education, am I centering the truth—or just the aesthetic?

It’s not about perfection.
It’s about presence.

To framekeep is to look deeply, to question the silence, and to choose care over convenience.

Final Thoughts: The Frame Remembers

The camera records light—but the frame records meaning.

At The Framekeeper Project, we don’t just preserve the image. We preserve the decision to remember. The dignity of those captured. The truth they stood in.

Because every frame is a doorway.
And every keeper is a witness.