Through Trial and Error

A while ago I posted about my struggle with portraiture and how important I think it is for me to connect with the subject on an emotional level. While that might not be true for everyone, it’s still something that I struggle with. Through trial and error, I’ve learned to deal with my anxiety in different ways. One way that works for me is using an instant film camera to make the initial interaction less awkward and more friendly.

This often comes into play when traveling around places where the population doesn’t necessarily have the means to go out and get prints themselves.

While I was over in Niger this last year, documenting a project on paleontology, we ran into quite a few semi-nomadic families moving around the desert herding various types of animals. We would stop and chat through an interpreter to see if they’d seen any massive dinosaur bones when traveling. During these stops, I’d pull out the instant film camera and through a small amount of miming, convince them to pose for a portrait, that I would then give to them. 

I realize that I’m not solving any large-scale social problems, and maybe I’m really just doing all of this for myself, but It does seem like it makes people genuinely happy to receive a small gift like that and if it’s an easy thing to do, why not do it?

The Injustice of Poverty

We see the inequality. The unfairness; The world has left you behind, staggering across the desert. Hungry and alone; chasing after an idea that the slow march of time will one day stop for you to catch up.

We hear you cry out, begging to be heard. Pleading to an unseen creator. “Help me”, you shout. Your neck craned upward toward the heavens. Your voice drown out by the bitter winds of selfishness and greed.

We feel your heartache at the injustice of poverty. The painful recognition that you have done nothing to deserve the life that you live, that simply because you came into existence you will be trapped until you die.

We act as though you don’t exist, placated by the thought that your time will come in the afterlife, when the unseen creator will bestow upon you the glory that you deserve.

We refuse to admit that we are wrong.

An Inevitable Outcome

Whenever I spend time people watching, I always like to imagine what their lives are like. What are they doing? Where are they going? Do they have many friends? Are they lonely? In certain situations, I inevitably end up feeling sad. Not because I feel like my life is so much more grand than theirs, but because I understand that everybody exists living with some degree of hopelessness, and I feel theirs, just as I sometimes feel mine. Their lives, or whatever story I create in my mind, unfold before me, and they disappear from my life just as quickly as they’ve entered it. I think it’s an inevitable outcome for anyone who enjoys photographing strangers, but it seems necessary to me.

Awe and Inspiration

Looking back through old photos is always interesting for me because as time passes, my tastes change, and things that I felt were whatever, have now taken on a different meaning. While looking through some old 35mm scans from a trip I took back in 2004, I found this one. It’s a fairly simple photo of Swayambhunath Stupa in Bhaktapur, Nepal. There is nothing crazy going on, no incredible human feat, aside from the creation of both buildings, but It brings back great memories of my first traveling experience. I look at it and feel the same sense of awe and inspiration that I felt at that moment, and I think maybe that’s what photography is about sometimes.

Within the Infinite, There is this One Moment

Kunming, China- One thing that I love and hate about shooting voyeuristically is that I don't know what's going on in the situation.  I can sit there and watch for hours and make my own assumptions, but at the end of the day, they're my assumptions, which aren't always correct.  This is both a blessing and curse.  There is a part of me that really wants to know what those men are talking about, what their lives are like at home, are they happy, sad, who their friends are, etc…, but the other part of me loves that I don't know, nor will I ever know.  I've captured a scene that has endless beginnings and endings, but within the infinite there is this one moment, and to me, that one moment speaks volumes.

Somebody Told a Joke

Vientiane, Laos- Somebody told a joke. Two of them liked it, but the rest did not.  I wish I could have known what joke they told because I bet it was funny.

The Greastest Match of All Time

Banja Luka, Bosnia- On an unnaturally warm summer's evening, I walked down the main road, heading north toward the outskirts of the city. The sun was approaching the horizon and the shadows were growing long, but the city was still buzzing. As I walked by a park, I noticed a giant chessboard, complete with giant chess pieces, surrounded by a group of spectators. It appeared as if a chess match was beginning. I approached cautiously, as I didn't want to disturb the spectators and planted myself on a bench. For about 40 minutes, the two opponents battled it out. Everyone was riveted, watching their expressions change from frustration, to confusion, and inevitably to joy, as each opponent maneuvered the pieces around the board. During what I perceived to be a lull in the match, I backed off a bit to shoot some photos of the entire scene. Nobody even glanced in my direction. After the win, the board was reset, and I wandered off in search of more exciting adventures, but nothing will ever top the greatest chess match of all time.

The Great and Black Expanse

Iceland- The lighthouse. A beacon on a stormy night. To those on land, it is a monument. A reminder of those who have perished on the waters. To those sailing out in the great and black expanse, it is a savior, A reminder that there is someone watching over them, keeping them safe, giving them hope.

Shadows and Textures

Simferopol, Ukraine- I love photographing people.  Not anybody specific, just every day people that are going about their lives, doing what they need to do to survive.  They're so mysterious.  Full of emotion.  One way I enjoy shooting them is finding a backdrop that I'm really in love with.  in this case, i was really drawn to the long shadows cast by the air conditioner and the texture on the wall and window covers.  When I find my backdrop, I'll start to people-watch, which is really my favorite part.  When you find someone that you really want to shoot, you have to make sure that their body positioning feels natural.  You either get this by being a badass and shooting exactly when you need to, or you do what I do and shoot a as much as you can.

The Simplicity of it All

Dubrovnik, Croatia- Walking atop the wall that surrounds the old city, the sun sets around me, shadows growing longer by the second.  There is a line of people on both sides of me, all present to walk along the wall, taking in the sights of the city.  A series of shadows catch my eye and I stop abruptly, causing people to bump into each other.  Clothes hanging on a line, drying in the afternoon sun.  I love everything about it.  The simplicity of it all.  Because of the high flow of traffic, I have to wait maybe 5-10 minutes for there to be an opening.  My head stays bent down, staring into the top of the camera, watching shadows walk through the frame.  I glance up, waiting for a lull, and I notice one approaching.  With just enough time, my frame clears and I take the photo.

Mostar, Bosnia: A Hopeful City

Mostar, Bosnia- Coming to a stop, the sound of tires rolling over gravel is second only to the wind racing through the grass nearby. In the distance, clouds move swiftly as the sun sinks lower toward the horizon. Before me stands an enormous 100ft. tall cross, overlooking Mostar, Bosnia, a city rife with a history of violent religious intolerance.

As I lean against my tiny rental enjoying the evening, a car full of teenagers passes by, parking in front of the cross. They get out, snapping pictures, and running around laughing. Their carefree attitude perfectly aligns with the scene surrounding me. After about 10 minutes, they pack up and drive off, leaving me to enjoy a golden sunset above a hopeful city.

Walking through old town, a familiar feeling fills the air. Cobble streets wind through tight alleyways, with buildings on either side stretching up toward the sky. Vendors beckon for attention while children run unhindered through the crowd. Mostar however, is different than other small towns across Europe.

Since the war, back in the 90's, the city has made a point to keep buildings that have been destroyed and left abandoned as a reminder of the atrocities that had taken place. Walking through town, new apartment complexes stand side-by-side with vacant, bullet-ridden hollowed out shells.

Two women walk their infants past a nondescript war-torn building. The echoes of drunks and junkies from inside reverberate out toward a bustling city, teeming with a generation of youth ready to rewrite history.

Christians and Muslims peacefully go about their lives, aware of their differences and the underlying tensions that go along with them. Struggling not to relive the atrocities that remain just below the surface, waiting to be unearthed.

The Outward Expression of Emotion

Santa Monica, California - The outward expression of emotion in this photo series is incredibly simple, however what's occurring on the inside is beyond me. I can see that one of these people is really enjoying themselves, and one isn't, but I have no idea what is going on inside their heads. And that's amazing.

Red Plastic Chair

In Vientiane, the capital city of Laos, a structure that looks coincidentally like the Arc D'Triumph in Paris looms over a bustling square. As you approach the massive structure, you realize that it is in fact a replica of the one in Paris, except with a little Asian flare.

Back during the cold war, The U.S. Government gave Laos massive amounts of concrete to make another runway at their airport . Instead of making a runway, they decided to make the replica (ballin!).

Wandering up the stairs, past all the merchants selling souvenirs, I passed a young boy, sitting in a red plastic chair. He seemed bored, as if his youthful adolescence was being squandered. His father, close by selling trinkets, loudly beckoned to me to purchase some wares. I smiled kindly and declined, interested more in the suffering taking place nearby.

I chuckled as I shot the photo, amused by the irony of being bored while sitting in a giant replica of the Arc D'Triumph in Vientiane, Laos.

A Smoggy Feeling of Desperation

Simferopol, Ukraine- After spending a couple weeks filming rock climbing in Ukraine, I was able to take a day or two for myself and wander around Simferopol, one of the larger cities on the Crimean peninsula. The lackadaisical people floating in the sea were replaced with anxious workers scurrying about, trying to find a means to an end. The cool breeze coming off the sea was replaced with a smoggy feeling of desperation, perpetrated by industry and the old Russian cars clogging the streets.

In a quiet square tucked away from the mayhem of the city, a few people walk by heading to work. As they pass, their long shadows extend toward a large statue built by the old empire. Continuing, they cross the square until reaching a massive building looming overhead. Quickly ascending the stairs, they disappear inside, away from the traffic and haze of a city desperate for change.

The City

An uneasy feeling runs through the city like a thick fog. People waiting, not knowing, with no understanding of the future, or what it holds. They sit in their coffee shops, shielded by the glass as they look out in to the unkown, purposefully unaware of the struggle outside. Behind the façade of pristine waterfalls, and lush grassy fields lies a problem that nobody cares to see: A cave of uncertainty.  Dark and lonely are the people inside.

Clouds fill the skies overhead as I walk down barren streets, peering down alleys and around corners, looking for any sign of life. I stand on the leeward side of a concrete column, a relic of a dying industry. The arctic breeze permeates the city, ever present and always near, chilling to the core. It's inescapable.

The sun rises further in the sky. City life quietly moves unseen around me. The hum of distant traffic is an undertone while melodic birds sit on the wires above. Occasionally the sound of conversation will float by; but it's rarely locatable, always somewhere off in the distance, as if just around the corner; a whisper on the wind.

I start to notice people scurrying around like rats in a maze, avoiding the bitter-cold wind outside. The empty streets become a canvas for life. I wait patiently for someone to walk by. My face and hands go numb from the cold. From down the street, a young man walks briskly uphill toward a nondescript building. Walking with intent, he passes in front of me. A brushstroke. One moment in time captured. His feelings and emotions are immortalized.

Spring is closing in. Walking further from the ocean, I notice that the beautiful architecture no longer towers above. Instead, drab government housing becomes commonplace. Garbage is littered about in the nooks and crevices of the city. Graffiti is plastered high up the walls of apartments.

Tucked in between worn houses, hidden from the wind, children line up along a wall as they listen to music and smoke cigarettes. Corrugated metal bounces the sun's rays as they bask in the afternoon light. Their talk is light hearted, youthful, but it inevitably shifts and the mood changes. Their park is going to be demolished and replaced with a senior citizen's center, one boy says. Sullen looks sweep across their faces.  They quietly soak up their memories, taking in the sights; the street art, the trees, the shade, the anxiety of a youth struggling to make a place in the world.