Courtroom Sketches in the 21st Century
Have you ever wondered why, in this age of high-definition video and instant Instagram uploads, you still see a lone artist in a courtroom, furiously sketching away with pastels and charcoal? It’s a curiosity, isn’t it? A seemingly anachronistic practice in our hyper-connected world. But believe it or not, the continued presence of courtroom sketch artists is a fascinating tale woven from history, privacy concerns, and a surprising amount of judicial discretion.
A Brush with History: When Art Was the Only Lens
Before the ubiquitous click of a camera shutter, if you wanted to visually document a public event, you needed an artist. And so it was with courtrooms. From the earliest days, when public trials began to gain traction, artists were the sole purveyors of visual information to the masses. They weren’t just depicting the scene; they were interpreting the gravitas, the tension, and the occasional flicker of emotion that defined the proceedings.
This practice continued largely unchallenged for centuries simply due to the non-existence of any alternatives; photography wasn’t invented until the 19th century. However, even after its creation, photography would have been a horrible choice to capture the scenes of a courtroom simply due to what was needed: bulky and noisy equipment… blinding flashes… ridiculously long exposure times… you get the picture (pun!). All of these would have been a chaotic disruption to the solemn pursuit of justice. The quiet observation and swift hand of a sketch artist were simply the most practical and least intrusive way to capture the unfolding drama.
The Shutter Closes: The Lindbergh Trial and the Camera Ban
The widespread adoption of photography in the early to mid-20th century brought new possibilities, but also new headaches for the judiciary. The infamous 1935 trial of Bruno Hauptmann for the kidnapping and murder of Charles Lindbergh’s baby son proved to be a pivotal moment. The sheer number of photographers—over 100, by some accounts—created an unprecedented media circus, turning the courtroom into a chaotic spectacle.
This sensationalism led to widespread condemnation and, crucially, prompted the American Bar Association (ABA) to adopt Judicial Canon 35 in 1937. This canon largely banned cameras and broadcasting equipment from courtrooms, asserting that such coverage would distract participants, diminish the dignity of the court, and prejudice the rights of the accused. For decades, this canon served as the prevailing standard, effectively slamming the door shut on photographic and video access in most U.S. courtrooms and solidifying the courtroom sketch artist’s unique, almost exclusive, role.
Federal Fences: Where Sketch Art Still Reigns Supreme
Even today, federal courts largely adhere to this historical prohibition. If you’re watching news coverage of a high-profile federal criminal case, whether it’s a district court trial or arguments before the U.S. Supreme Court, you’ll notice that the visuals are almost exclusively courtroom sketches.
Federal Rule of Criminal Procedure 53 explicitly states:
“Except as otherwise provided by a statute or these rules, the court must not permit the taking of photographs in the courtroom during judicial proceedings or the broadcasting of judicial proceedings from the courtroom.”
While there have been limited pilot programs for cameras in some federal civil cases, the general rule remains steadfast. The rationale often cited includes maintaining decorum, preventing distractions that could jeopardize a fair trial, and protecting the privacy and security of witnesses and jurors.
So, when you see a beautifully rendered sketch of a Supreme Court justice mid-query, know that it’s not just an artistic choice; it’s often the only visual record the public will ever see of that moment.
The Sunshine State’s Bold Experiment: Florida Leads the Way
Now, here’s where things get particularly interesting for us Floridian legal eagles. While many states followed the federal lead, Florida boldly broke ranks and became a true pioneer in allowing cameras in its courtrooms.
Did you know that Florida’s initial pilot program for cameras in the 1970s almost spectacularly failed? It started with a requirement for all parties involved – judges, attorneys, jurors, and witnesses – to consent to camera presence. As you can imagine, securing universal consent was akin to herding cats, leading to last-minute cancellations and judicial exasperation. This frustrating experience, believe it or not, was the catalyst for change. It drove the Florida Supreme Court to implement a non-consensual experimental year in 1977. This bold move proved successful and paved the way for Florida’s remarkably open approach.
This progressive stance culminated in the landmark 1981 U.S. Supreme Court case, Chandler v. Florida. In this case, two former police officers convicted in a Florida trial argued that the presence of television cameras violated their Sixth and Fourteenth Amendment rights to a fair trial. However, the U.S. Supreme Court upheld Florida’s right to allow cameras, ruling that the mere presence of cameras does not automatically violate a defendant’s due process rights. This pivotal decision effectively opened the floodgates for other states to consider and adopt similar rules.
Today, Florida’s rules on electronic media coverage are enshrined primarily in Florida Rule of General Practice and Judicial Administration 2.450, titled “Technological Coverage of Judicial Proceedings.” This rule is quite permissive, establishing a presumption of openness for electronic media and still photography in public judicial proceedings in both trial and appellate courts.
Here are a few fascinating tidbits from Rule 2.450:
- While a presiding judge has the authority to control proceedings and ensure fairness, they cannot arbitrarily ban cameras. To exclude media, a judge must demonstrate that coverage will cause “special and identifiable injury” to a participant or have a “qualitative difference” in adverse effect compared to other forms of coverage. That’s a pretty high bar!
- The rule even details the maximum equipment: typically 1 portable television camera, 1 still photographer with no more than 2 cameras, and 1 audio system. And forget bright lights – artificial lighting is generally prohibited.
- If multiple media outlets want to cover a Florida trial, they’re responsible for “pooling” their resources and sharing footage. If they can’t agree, the judge isn’t a mediator; they can simply exclude all contesting media. Talk about tough love!
The Enduring Art of the Sketch
So, despite Florida’s progressive stance on cameras, why do we still see courtroom artists?
- Federal Necessity: As discussed, they are the sole visual record in federal criminal cases.
- Judge’s Discretion in Sensitive Cases: Even in Florida, a judge can still exercise their discretion to limit or prohibit cameras in highly sensitive cases, such as those involving minors or victims of certain crimes, where privacy concerns outweigh the general presumption of access. In such instances, the artist steps in.
- The Human Element: There’s an undeniable artistry to a courtroom sketch. Unlike a cold, objective photograph, a sketch can capture the essence of a moment, the nuance of an expression, or the raw emotion that a lens might miss. It’s an interpretation, not just a literal capture, offering a unique perspective on the human drama unfolding in the courtroom.
From Courtrooms to Cavewalls, and back again
From the chaotic Lindbergh trial to Florida’s pioneering efforts, the journey of visual access to courtrooms has been a winding one. While technology continues to evolve, the quiet dignity of a courtroom sketch artist serves as a powerful reminder of the delicate balance of justice and the enduring human compulsion to visually comprehend our world. After all, the urge to document the scenes of our lives, capturing moments that resonate so they can be told another time, is a fundamental part of who we are, a drive evidenced by the earliest human hands pressing pigment upon cave walls.
Joseph Battaglia is a board certified real estate closing attorney in Lakewood Ranch, Florida. He blogs about real estate law and anything.
