Occupy House: What is a Community?

I visited a house in the central district of Seattle today for a story.  Not everyone was willing to have their photo taken.  The house had been abandoned and is technically the property of a bank.  You see, the house may be in limbo, but it is highly functional.  An offshoot of the Occupy Seattle folks has taken possession of the property; they have converted it into a highly efficient commune.  I am learning a little about what it takes to build a community.  My first lesson was Nickelsville.  I would characterize Nickelsville as a suburban/industrial self-sufficient community.  This Occupy House is a much smaller, urban community – a commune really.  Both groups have a developed shared set of values that they have agreed upon and live by.  The lists displayed above are posted in the center hall of the Occupy House, a duplex.  Residents strive to be efficient, eco-sensitive, and sustainable.  Both groups utilize water-catchment systems, and share responsibilities.  They raise some provocative ideas:

Why are houses vacant while citizens are homeless?

We don’t all simply have to ‘take it’ – the absurdity that our course of capitalism has run. 

The Occupy House currently houses a mixture of people.  They are all people just like you and me.  Their philosophies range from those who just want to live humanely, to some who are more anarchist in attitude. As I considered that they are embodying the elements necessary for humans to cooperatively exist, I wonder if there isn’t something that they can teach those of us that are still on this more ‘normative’ circle.  How many times have I observed a road-rager flip me off because I’m not driving just as they want me to?  Perhaps the rager should observe the rules of the house – respect, respect, respect.

During the interview, I wondered if the police were going to show up any minute.  They didn’t.

Hmm.  So consider a shared set of values.  Is that what a community is?  Maybe.  Maybe that’s a big part of it.

 

I Still Work…A Lot

At first, I was so popular.  He took me places.  Everywhere I went, people were thrilled to see us, me really.  They smiled at me all the time, and some even asked to hold me.  I was just too complicated for them; they even asked how I worked!

Then things changed.

Soon, there were others, others like me – just a few at first.  Some of those same people that wanted to hold me now started showing up with my cousins.  They were holding my cousins, not me.  They only wanted to show how much newer and better my cousins were than me; I’m sure of it.  “Mine cost this much”, I would hear.  “When did you get that”, they would ask Him about me.

He is that photographer guy, and I’m his first digital SLR camera.  I was useful longer than I was popular.

I felt used and violated.  After all, how could He have ever let them touch me?  That was bad enough, but then it became too much.  When He started to hold those others, my cousins, things came undone.

My spirit was broken, and it made me lazy.

Sometimes I would just forget to flash; or, maybe I didn’t feel like flashing.  When I saw that He had them all looking at me and smiling, smiling their phony grins, I would just display an error code.  It felt good.  I thought that might show them.

But He still used me, even more than before, a lot more than before.

That’s when I started to work my hardest.  More people looked at my work – our work.  He talked about me more to the other people.  He even got replacement parts for me – better parts!  The more of our work people saw, then the more they wanted to see me again.  I was getting a little tired, but that was the best of times.

Then, things changed again.

He burst into the room in a frenzy of plastic bags, boxes, and Styrofoam.  Then I saw it.  There, right in front of me, it was a newer one. One with higher resolution, the box said on it.  And then there it was, getting all the attention.  I had to even share my case with it!

After a few weeks, I was back to work though.

But now I worked half as much.  The other one – the newer one – got the best jobs, and the ones with all the smiling faces.  So, that’s when I started doing some of my best work; I started to concentrate on longer shots.  I worked less, but focused more.

A few months ago, yet another one joined us. 

This new one could shoot motion; I wasn’t raised that way.  We didn’t show off like that when I was new.  I was still the one He trusted to take those hard shots out in the rain though.

There will be others, but I’ll always have a place on the shelf, and a body of work to show for.

Yep, I still work a lot.

Objects In Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear

Okay, in this case further detached.

For a photojournalist, one of the best lectures on the circuit is by one Sam Abell.   Abell is a career National Geographic photographer. 

The Photographic Life is the name of a lecture series that Abel travels around presenting.  The story of his childhood in the Midwest.  Many a photographer will identify with having served as the yearbook photographer growing up.  The rise to National Geographic fame is dazzling, with a realistic hint of prima-donna-ism creeping in.  The touching story about life and death in his family will inspire a photographer.

Interacting with the man and observing others doing so, Abel feels a little aloof interpersonally.  When in front of the camera, this is not surmising – few photographers are comfortable being photographed – in fact they are the worst.  But even with camera out of sight, Abel doesn’t seem to quite connect with the degree of warmth expected.  On the other hand, perhaps that is how he gets such great photos – he may not be a great…[interactionist].

And that’s when objects in the mirror are something other than they appear.  For our role models often fail to align with our pre-conceived expectations.  In this case, objects are sometimes further removed than they appear on stage.

It’s not clear whether it takes a great story-teller to be a superior photojournalist, or whether a career of photojournalist makes one a great story-teller.  Either way, to experience The Photographic Life by Sam Abell is to be masterfully seduced by a beautiful story told.

The Power of Photography

Photographic images have the power to both share and shape our view of the world.  Organizations like The Photo League  produced documentary images 80 years ago – they were powerful images, images that we are all familiar with. 

The talent at Magnum Photos continues to shape our view of the world through powerful images.

Alexia Foundation presents captivating documentary photography.

This is an image taken of a woman in a tent city as stormy weather descended.  It is designed to tell a small story of our time.  You are asked to suspend any judgment that you may have long enough to consider its subject, the bare necessities of life, and perseverance. 

The hope is that you will see something new, something different, or just something in a new way.

A storytelling aperture is chosen.  The composition was chosen with intention.  The tone of the image strives to reproduce the dramatic, bleak, and gritty reality of the tent city in poor weather.

The hope is that this image demonstrates the power of photography.

Suspend Judgement

Suspend Judgment

Diane has 2 boys…at Nickelsville.  They were in school at noon on a Thursday.

Bent is a new dad.  His baby is Steven…2 months.

Last winter the folks at Nickelsville had a physical shelter of an old fire station; this year, not so.  They were moved even further out of the metro area.  Out of site. Out of mind.  Out…in the elements.

Mike Whistler is a vet who lives in Nickelsville.  He has a background in construction – after the military, he got into residential construction, which eventually lead to large-scale, industrial construction.  As a result, Mike understands the principles of engineering: drainage, erosion, south-facing, etc.  And he confides that this enclave represents something unexpected to him, “I’ve put so much into this place, I don’t know if I could leave.”  He patrols the perimeter of the encampment for security.  They rotate that duty.

Stay detached.  That’s what they say to photographers.  If documentary photographers have any chance at telling the story, isn’t it important that they understand the people whose stories they wish to share?  And that, by definition, means connecting.

The encampment will need Mike, and people like Mike (and Linda, and Shelly, and the rest) to make it through this winter.  They have been at this location for 6 months.  Last year they had access to a decommissioned fire station.  This year, the conditions are expected to be a bit harsher.

What will Diane’s kids endure this winter?  How do you do your homework when the wind is howling outside your tent?  Will Steven be allowed to visit his dad Bent, and the proxy in-laws like Linda?

A Family Story: Red Earth, Gold Gate, Shadow Sky (Part 1)

In a nation withdrawing from conflict zones, one which is made up almost entirely of immigration, what story could be as relevant as a play about how US foreign involvement and subsequent withdrawal can affect a family?  Red Earth, Gold Gate, Shadow Sky (Part 1) is one.  Red Earth is Mark Jenkins’s play about an immigrant refugee family that leaves Cambodia for the impoverished side of an American city, Tukwila in this case; these issues come to the forefront in a personal way.

On November 13^th at 2:30PM, a dramatic reading of the play directed by Victor Pappas, and produced by Don Fels, will be held at the Cabaret Theater of Hutchison Hall at the University of Washington.  The same reading will be presented at Highpoint Community Center, November 18 – 19 at 7 pm.

It takes its inspiration from interviews conducted in Cambodia with men who have been deported after incarceration in the US.  Red Earth is fiction based upon these interviews about a Cambodian family, who flees control of the Khmer Rouge to Thailand, and eventually to America.  Kids grew up on the streets in America. 

The refugee kids are taunted and asked things like, “What are you doing here?”  It’s a story about identity, the refugee experience, the struggle for survival, told in monologue and event depictions.

“We are not acquainted with success” is how the main character, Cam, puts the condition of a refugee family in America to the audience in his monologue.  Kids are bullied, and a natural recourse is to join gangs for survival and inclusion.  Even more gripping is the recount of the conditions in Cambodia and Thailand before coming to the US. 

The cast reads from scripts, and knowing that it is only the first part, you can tell it’s a beginning.  In this production, the women portray the most powerful, and compelling roles even if supporting.

While one knows going into a reading designated as Part I, there’s little spoiler to be made – what will come of Cam’s family?  There is a predictable story line, but a heart-wrenching no less.

The bad news is that you will leave wondering what is to become of the main character.

The set is minimal, and that is easy to forgive because the interspersed humor, music, dancing and video backdrops provide plenty of interest to make for a steady pace.

The story of Red Earth (Part I) will entertain and capture your heart – be warned that you will want the rest of the story.

Last of October

[--Jason awaits trick-or-treaters]

Bubbly baristas sport mouse ears with smiles and banter.

Plastic eyeballs beckon last minute shoppers on seasonal stands.

Olive Oil shuffles down the hall; her co-worker shrieks and then giggles with delight at her costume.

Darkness is overtaken by dawn; orange and yellow leaves color the day.  Absent wind means calm, steady falling.

Curious George strolls down the Ave; no one bats an eye.

Mask like a ball cap.  Cell phone on the right ear.  Backback.  Coffee in left hand.  Pacing, talking, sipping.  The sun shines.  It’s fall.  65 others around, but only one mask.

She’s the sexy naughty cheerleader; he’s in leather chaps, reflective sunglasses, and attitude that says Midnight Cowboy.  They are a pair.

Inboxes fill with, “FW: Happy Halloween. Lol.  ”.  Each with the eagerness and optimism of first arrival.

Bright blue fingernails – too bright for gothic, and too off-color for fashion; costume indiscernible.

CHOCOLATE, and more chocolate:  Twix, Hershey’s Tootsie Rolls, Jolly Ranchers, M&Ms, Butterfingers (!)….diabetes, 7lb.s in a week, childhood obesity. Coworkers and classmates share bags of candy.

Disco hair, “Nothing reminds me of how boring Seattle is then Halloween time.”

Civic leaders question a change: make Halloween a formal weekend holiday?

Dog dressed as Yoda.

Bleach blonde realtor takes down for sale sign as the sun sets behind partly cloudy sky.  She hurries to get home to the kids.

Organized begging starts in minutes.

Political signs wave at street corners for the eyeballs of evening commuters; some wear masks.  Vote Gregerson they wave and plead.

The jogger and small dog cross the road – both with reflectors on their jackets.

Group of four walks down the street.  The pink fairy wings call out the attention of drivers on their way home.

Jack-o-lanterns and strung lights.  It’s like an orange and black light show.

Friends send costume picks to each other.

Candles in window sills – their flames flicker.  Open for business.

Jason awaits trick-or-treaters.

Street Photography: the conversation

Seattle, 2011

Rain?  A little.  The camera goes into the pack just as easily though.  Put both of them in tonight.  Got flash units?  Check.  Pack three tonight just in case the event wants a step-turn photo booth.

Rain is the usual battle in late October.  On this Friday night, traffic kills navigation.  Tonight traffic is a problem, not so much the rain.  When arriving late, and with protesters disrupting the event, an event photographer shifts to street photographer.  It’s going to be a good night.

Obscurity is good, but it’s tough to achieve.

You lug a big camera around to get night shots using available light.  If you can find a way to be obscure, the payoff is a thrill.  A shot of the street is the prize.  It’s really all about capturing life experienced in public space that’s golden.

Until the Leica, it has to be the Canon.  And, the Canon performs well with low-light anyways.

Some street photographers bemoan digital.  For some, the shot better be a single, simple subject.  Street photography is about images of people; people doing people things.

So the street photographer has a real challenge.  A camera brings a false dynamic to a setting.  It can taint a shot – really blow it. 

Tonight, in this shot, so much action is going on that even the big metal SLR won’t obstruct the lone conversation between the cop and the hotel guy.

That’s a good thing for this street photographer.  Maybe the rain even helped to just fade into the background tonight.

What kind of photography?

That’s what people want to know when you call yourself a photographer – what kind of photography.  It’s a deceptively difficult kind of photography.

In this shot, police guard the entrance to a hotel in downtown Seattle.  People in the photo are not looking at the photographer.  Protesters are mostly huddled together and interacting together.  One protester and one cop are looking on as hotel security confers with a second cop.

It’s not a great street shot, nor a bad one.  Man, I love street photography.

Street Photographers:

 

Matt Stuart

Bruce Gilden

Sleep and Enthusiasm — my favorite substances~!

Everyone has moments of optimism and pessimism.  They are, well, human attitudes.  What happens though, when those attitudes are at the helm?  Everything, nothing, or something in between.
Today, I am slept, and I am enthusiastic.  What that means is…is that I can take on the world.

A photo a day, and a blog entry.  That’s what it means.  So, here goes!