More Than an Observer - Witnessing

With a camera separating our eyes (and body) from the subject, its often easy to be a dispassionate observer of our world. Yet there are times when we become engaged not just in the creation of a photograph, but in the setting or event that we are witnessing.

Photographer Ed Kashi wrote the following about a funeral that he was photographing in a small Romanian village: "I broke down in the church, thinking of how beautifully this man's death was being witnessed. The tenderness, ritual and attention to detail (all the pallbearers had cellophane wrapped new shirts pinned to them as an alm from the family). ... We at least try to create a memory and belief that these acts will make sense and give meaning to it all." (PND News, August 2012)

Maybe when we photograph the Grand Canyon we are merely observers; but when we photograph a human interaction, be it a dance, a or child's music recital, or, yes, even a funeral, we become a formal witness to life. 

Salak's Four Corners - A Recommended Read

I've just completed reading what is, perhaps, my favorite travel narrative of all time - and that's saying a lot with well over 200 such titles in my personal collection.  Kira Salak's "Four Corners: A Journey into the Heart of Papua New Guinea," is filled with personal tales of triumph and near tragedy, of pushing one's limits but being aware of one's vulnerability, of traveling solo (and as a woman) to prove something to one's self and of being open to the road less traveled, and of an understanding of cultures and different ways of being.  Full of serendipity and with the machete ever-ready, her travels are expertly relayed in wonderful, detailed, yet straightforward prose. 
Talking about a intricately carved canoe and paddle that she and a male companion purchase for an on-going journey down the Sepik River, she writes:

In the West, this might be called extravagance, a waste of time. If the purpose is to create a canoe, why bother with superfluous decoration? But in PNG, time is wasted when one makes something purely pragmatic reasons because then nothing is honored in the process; one creates an object without meaning. As the crocodile figures in all of the local creation myths, its carved presence on paddles and prows revels a reverence for the divine, which coexists closely with daily life. 

 And at the end of her journey, she realizes the world of travel is multi-faceted:

In the end, I see that there are many kinds of journeys, and one isn't necessarily any better than another - just different.   

*****

http://www.kirasalak.com/FourCorners.html

Artist Statement

If you are fortunate enough to have your photographs displayed at a gallery on in a magazine (print or on-line), you will likely be asked to include an "Artist's Statement." This involves writing down your photographic goals, either specific to the show or a more general overview of your photographic intent. My "official" version is four paragraphs in length (www.chuckkirchner.zenfolio.com - About) but boils down to two sentences at it's essence:

Chuck’s photographs have the ability to capture the season, the sensations, the memories and, most importantly, the spirit of place and of life. The tools of the trade involve technical acumen, artistic vision, patience, good timing, and, of course, a bit (or lot) of serendipity.

In the July 2012 edition of Photo District News (PDN), several "outstanding and undiscovered fine-art photographers" are featured, each with a brief statement that are generally to the point. While I won't go into the photographer's names, quotes range from

When these items are rendered in a traditional black-and-white format, the information that remains is merely an abstraction of its previous form.

to 

These are not real photographs of real things.

to

When capturing the still recordable milieu I am examining the parallel of a general tendency and personal stories: as resilient humanity condensing into symbolic destinies takes shape in the face of mortality. 

I personally find the last one to be something I might expect from an academic or a critic from a major newspaper, rather than from a photographer.  I believe that we, as artists, need to be accessible to our viewers, and that includes our written word.

Its All in the Sky

Common sights, like the Space Needle, are often the subject of lots of photographs taken on any given day. What makes one standout among others can sometimes come down to the sky.  Totally sunny, cloudless days can be mundane, while totaly cloudy days downright distracting (bright spot with no interest). But then there are the "partly cloudy" days, like this past Saturday in Seattle. Blues and wispy clouds of all shapes and hues can add considerable interest to a common sight. And having a friend point out the sky when our focus is so much ground-ward, well, that's even better.

Fortune-Tellers, Travel and Life

I have a weakness for travel narratives. Eighty-plus percent of what I read can be classified in this particular genre, ranging from William Least-Heat Moon to Robyn Davidson to Paul Theroux. And many many more. Most are pretty good, a few more than I'd like to admit are pretty mediocre.  And then there are the exceptional ones - the ones that are fully engaging, that take the reader in new directions (not just geographically), and one's that inspire or nurture the spirit of travel and of life. 

Tizian Terzani's "A Fortune-Teller Told Me" falls into this exceptional category. The author, an Italian journalist based in Southeast Asia, and with journalistic curiosity, visited a fortune-teller in Macao. The prophecy, if you want to call it that, was that something terrible was going to happen to the author in the coming year and he must not fly. A difficult proposition for an Italian journalist in Southeast Asia for sure.  And one, before the start of the year, Tizian decided to follow. 

The narrative following Tizian as he moved about Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, Cambodia, Burma and then on to Europe via China, Mongolia and Russia, all the time consulting with other fortune-tellers - some close to the mark, others without a clue. Wanderlust, journalistic fervor, spiritual encounters of all kinds, and an overall sense of fascination fill the book and leave the reader to ponder the world that we see and the world that may be just beyond our vision and experience.

"Think of how many wonderful people we meet without realizing it, of how many  beautiful  things we pass every day on the way home without realizing them. It always requires the right occasion, a particular event, a person who stops you and draws your attention to this or that."

Festival at 15000' and Travel Expectations

Two interesting articles in this weekend's NY Times.  The first is on the Qoyllur Rit’i — the Snow Star Festival, held outside of Cusco, Peru. Elevation 15000.' Part Catholic, part earth-based spirituality. Dancing, commemorations, candle-lighting, arts, crafts, sheer beauty, and fervor. Sounds like my kind of festival, though the elevation gives me considerable pause.  http://travel.nytimes.com/2012/05/13/travel/celebrating-the-snow-star-festival-in-the-peruvian-andes.html?nl=travel&emc=edit_tl_20120512 

The second article focuses on a mother-daughter spring break vacation to south Florida. Wrong place to stay, no clear expectations on what to do and when, costly, and anything but connecting one-on-one. Points to doing your own research on lodging, talking with your traveling companion (even if family) before you go re expectations and objectives, and taking recommendations from friends with a grain of salt.  Makes for a good read and food for thought - especially when traveling with teens and 20-somethings!
http://travel.nytimes.com/2012/05/13/travel/a-mother-daughter-spring-break-on-fisher-island-florida.html?nl=travel&emc=edit_tl_20120512

Drawn to Out of the Way Places

I've been re-reading "The Road Wet, the Wind Close: Celtic Ireland" by James Roy.  It caught my eye many years ago and led directly to me visiting one of the world's more obscure and isolated locals - Skellig Michael, off the coast of County Kerry, Ireland. In re-reading, I came across this:

We have come to Skellig Michael because of what we've read. [How true!!] We find ourselves drawn to obscurities, or perhaps it's just the urge to go places where no one else sees value. For whatever reason, on this island, I think, is the very essence of Celtic Ireland."  Takes me right back there, to the cold and windswept day in a distant October, where just two of us had the monastic site to ourselves. Obscurity, of value, and Celtic essence.

Books, and not just travel guides, can be a great influence on future journeys.  Whether Skellig Michael, or the Floating Tori Gate at Miyajima Island, Japan, or ...  I've felt called several times to visit the non-Eiffel Towers of this world. And will continue to follow the call.