02-NOV-2005
Double Portrait, Mercado de San Juan de Dios, San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, 2005
The early morning sun sharply defines the characters of this man and child resting near the entrance to this busy market on the western fringe of San Miguel. I made this picture from a long distance at a 420mm focal length. Both subjects were aware that I was making a picture, but since I was so far out of their space, they had no idea how much else I might have had in my frame, so did not seem either hostile or self conscious. The man displays a natural curiosity. The child unemotionally accepts my presence. In this black and white image, the interplay of light and shadow abstracts the portrait and takes it out of the realm of a specific travel photograph, becoming more of a universal statement about the relationships between adults and children. I posted the original color image in a travel article at
http://www.worldisround.com/articles/237925/photo55.html The color version makes it look more like a travel shot, and less like a portrait.
24-OCT-2005
At the Fountain, Guanajuato, Mexico, 2005
I saw this young man waiting for a bus on a busy Guanajuato Street corner. He was standing in front of an old fountain featuring the figures of three huge fish. He was listening to music through a pair of earphones. He stands in front of the middle fish, leaving a fish to emerge on either side of his body, just as the earphones emerge from either side of his head. Using my zoom lens at its full 420mm telephoto equivalent, I was able to fill my frame with him and the fish from all the way across the intersection. He was so involved in listening to his music that he never noticed me shooting from across the street.
26-OCT-2005
Flower Vendor, Plazuela del Baratillo, Guanajuato, Mexico, 2005
I photographed this woman as she ceased her late afternoon cleanup work to take a brief rest. She was listening to the guitar music coming from just across the square. The portrait is based on the dual diagonals formed by her arms and the handle of the broom. She seemed so relaxed, with her head thrown back and her arms at rest on her broom. I used the full length of my 420mm zoom lens to shoot from a distance, allowing me to produce an image that works as both a candid and environmental portrait.
Dreamer, Central Market, Pakse, Laos, 2005
One of my favorite portraits, this image portrays a child who seems to be in another world at this moment. The sleek lines of the motorbike he uses as a resting place contrast to the timeless market baskets stacked behind him. There is a relaxed dreaminess to his expression in the way he holds his arms, and rests his head on the huge seat of the motorbike. The image is rich in human values because it speaks of children and adults at the same time. It also speaks of past and present. The baskets represent tradition; the bike is very much a symbol of the present. He will, no doubt, inherit both worlds.
02-FEB-2005
A Burmese Tradition, Yangon, Myanmar, 2005
The most striking feature of Burmese girls, women and children is the yellow Thanaka powder smeared on their cheeks, noses, foreheads, and even throats. It is said to tighten the pores, control oiliness, cool the skin, and act as a sun block. It is made by grinding tree bark into a paste. Pre-mixed Thanaka is also available. This woman seems to have to just rubbed it on, while other women and children use it as carefully planned decorative accents. What fascinated me the most were the incongruities present in this portrait. To non-Burmese, the makeup itself appears incongruous. She uses it to not only paint her face but also her throat, a rarity. She makes no acknowledgement whatsoever that I am making her picture. She never made eye contact with me. Her stoic expression never changed. I photographed her standing in front of a grim steel gate, no doubt used to secure a store in the city’s busy market. Yet her painted face and neck speak more loudly to us than anything else. She is Burmese!
Seeing the Man in the Boy, Hsinbyume Pagoda, Mingun, Myanmar, 2005
A young boy, the son of a local shopkeeper, poses for his portrait in one of the niches of the Hsinbyume Pagoda. I could not disengage him. He followed me for almost a half hour, watching every move I made. He never asked for money or gifts, and never asked me to take his picture. He was just curious. He got to know me and I got to know him. At one point, while I was making another image, he casually stood within one of Hsinbyume’s old arches, just watching me work. I knew he was there, turned around and made this environmental portrait of him. His relaxed body language is the key – the way he places his feet, leans on the doorsill, and the look on his face, all speak to us of his emerging character. He is still very young, but he is already old before his years.
Coffee Grower, Champasak Province, Laos, 2005
This gracious woman, who runs a coffee plantation in the south of Laos, knows I am making a picture of her, and seems very comfortable with it. This is a three quarters view portrait. The subject does not look at the camera, nor does she face fully away. She stands comfortably, smiling and relaxed. While her eyes look away, she still shows her full face to me. I organized this portrait with as much, if not more, emphasis on environmental details as on the woman. Plastic bags and a towel hang on a rack at left, creating a series of rhythmic vertical lines. Vertical gray columns, one of them supporting a broom, offer additional vertical lines that carry us to the subject herself. The colors are warm, soft and muted. I made this image in the full shadow of a covered portico, allowing sunlight to be reflected into it from three sides. It made an excellent photographic “studio.” When we study this image, we come to know this woman, her surroundings, her personality and attitude. And that, in my view, is what an expressive travel portrait should accomplish.
19-JAN-2005
On the Fence, near Pak Beng, Laos, 2005
Hmong children were fascinated by western visitors, and watched every move we made with great interest as we visited their village along the Mekong River. This foursome was already sitting on the makeshift fence as I passed by. I stopped to talk them, making digital images of each of them, and sharing the pictures with them. This process has added a new dimension to travel photography. It allows us to break the ice and share a bit of ourselves with a bit of them. These kids enjoyed the pictures, but never left the safety of their fence, which bordered their family living compound. As I said goodbye, I turned to make this one last shot. I like the way they instinctively space themselves on the fence. A brother and sister sit to the left. They were the most outgoing pair of the group. The other two children are a bit older, and part of the same extended family. They choose to stand apart as a separate unit and were very quiet. I devote much of this image to the rugged, root-bound soil upon which they live and will someday use to earn their livelihoods. In the background, I include some of the houses in the compound for context. A new house is in the process of being built. This environmental portrait is, in its own way, a slice of Mekong village life. These children are posing, yet not smiling or mugging. They are simply curious about their western visitor with all the cameras, and graciously cooperative.
Saleswoman, The Strand Gift Shop, Yangon, Myamar, 2005
Perhaps the most elegant in Yangon, the gift shop at the old Strand Hotel offers an amazing array of Burmese arts, crafts, and antiques. The Strand is Yangon's most expensive hotel. Its 52 tasteful rooms were originally built in 1903 and reflect the heyday of British Rangoon, circa 1920s and 30s. I liked the similarity of the poses of both this saleswoman and the life sized carving gracing her shop. Each stands ramrod straight, with grace and quiet dignity, as does the big black container that stands between them. Hands are present in neither instance. One tucks them behind her back, the other has lost his somewhere along the way. Neither the saleswoman nor the carving is smiling at me, either. (Smiling for a photo is a custom that has yet to fully reach Burma and Laos.) I deliberately placed the woman off to the left hand side of the image to let her stand apart from the large black container and the carving. She is in a better position to show off all of her wares that flow across the image. Her white blouse makes her the focal point of the picture, because it contrasts to everything else in it. She was also one of the few Burmese women I met who does not paint her face in the ubiquitous Thanaka yellow makeup. If she wore it, it would most certainly clash with the Strand’s elegant European style. She is reserved, professional and represents the traditions of the Strand. For example, she may help you buy something here, but you would have to respectfully ask her for that help. Her portrait offers us a good look into the nature of the Strand itself, even though its hotel facilities are nowhere to be seen here.
Siblings, Salavan Province, Laos, 2005
It was always fascinating to see how children in remote Laotian villages respond to a camera. They are not used to being photographed, and seemed quite curious. You can hardly get as strong a contrast in attitude toward the camera as from this pair of young boys. Yet also look at the similarity in hand positions. Each holds his right hand in his left at this moment. This image tells us that siblings, while quite different in personalities, will often unconsciously mimic each other’s mannerisms. I cropped this image into a square to complement this comparison. A square provides an equal balance, and since we are comparing the responses of two siblings here, why not give them equal emphasis in the surrounding frame? I bring the eye into this frame with a leading line at the edge of the carpet in the lower right hand corner. The leg of the older brother parallels that line. The pair of brothers and the big pot carries the eye to the left and then up the green bamboo support pole. A matrix of woven right angles echoes this geometry in the wall behind them. Nothing is left to chance. Every inch of this picture has a job to do.
19-JAN-2005
Hmong Rice Farmer, near Pak Beng, Laos, 2005
Clearly tired, this farmer leans on his doorframe to watch the brief invasion of his village by nine American tourists. While one of these tourists, using two cameras simultaneously, made a number of photographs of him, he never moved or looked. He simply was not interested in having his image made but he had no reservations, either. Open doors are wonderful places to make portraits. They give you a black background, making the subject boldly stand out. They offer the subject a place to lean, or something to grab. Doors are symbolic, often making the subject into a guardian of his or her territory. This relaxed body language, however, makes him anything but a guardian. He is a farmer, purely and simply. This portrait tells us that.
Boy in Knit Hat, Champasak Province, Laos, 2005
Wearing a knit hat in the heat of the day, this boy seems to be preoccupied with his own thoughts, or else he has somehow become magically skilled at posing for portraits. I rarely ever make head or head and shoulder shots as portraits. The face itself must be very special and the pose equally special for me to do so. Face shots usually prevent you from using the environment as an expressive force in your image. This is image is an exception. I can move in for an intimate, close-up vantage point, using just the face, yet still tell a story. The bark of a tree and the knit cap express important symbols. This lad lives in rough country, just like that bark. The days may be hot, but the nights get cold. He wears that hat constantly, and makes it part of his identity. Another important aspect of this portrait is the play of light and shadow on his face. He seems to be very thoughtful, and the soft light reflecting on his face complements that mood. It may be a face shot, but it’s also a lot more than just a face.