Photographing

A little about a possible project of mine.

2nd August

I met a lady in the downstairs toilet of our boarding school washing her little girl. Instinct told me to ask her for a photo, so using universal hand gestures for "can I take your photo" and "tomorrow", she gestured "OK".

This was my only thread and I so I told myself that in order to have anything exhibited on saturday I needed to start taking pictures - not sit around thinking about what to do all week and then shitting myself on friday. So I went along and hoped I could find her.

3rd August

Lucky for me she waved before I could even see her, standing outside with her friends surrounded by a large collection of children. One lady spoke fairly good english and helped me translate that I wanted to photograph her and also that I was keen for her to tell me how she wanted to be depicted. When asked this she said (in English) "In my kitchen". I could tell they were all in sort of a hurry so I couldn't photograph for as long as I would have liked, but I did a roll and hoped for the best.

The images came out formal and fairly static, but I liked the tones and colours of the inside of their apartment. I also liked the toys that were lying about everywhere - a bit like in our dormitory.

It got more interesting when she was in her kitchen as she began picking up knives and pretending to chop cucumbers, then holding a teapot as if to pour some tea.

Her name is Alona.

4th August

I went back the next day (yesterday) with an index sheet to show her and my 35mm camera. I asked if I could take some more pictures and she said it was fine. Her son Dennis was there and he looks and acts like his mum. He began by posing quite comically for the camera, then he started taking toys and props and going all out interacting with them. Then came the masks. He had a gorilla mask and a devil mask and toy gun and he began to play with them. I followed the family around the house and photographed various moments. I was getting more excited the more they were and really enjoying myself. Alona like the pictures and so I promised to print them for her and return the next day (this morning).

5th August

I returned with prints today and Alona was in the kitchen by herself There was a tiny ginger kitten next to the wellington boots outside the front door looking adorable. I showed her the next set of index prints and she liked them alot. She also introduced me to her niece Yvgenia, who also wanted some portraits taken. I photographed her in the same place as Alona with my medium format camera. I asked if Dennis would like to come for a walk in his gorilla outfit and so me him and Yvgenia went outside. Dennis had been let loose and he climbed trees, peered through the washing line, sat in a car and generally monkeyed about. Yvgenia spoke a basic English and translated a little bit for me, but it wasn't hard to communicate with a gorilla. Soon, Denis's grandma Laryssa arrived and seemed a little bit tipsy. She didn't really acknowledge me at first and I thought she was a little shy to have her photo taken. It turned out however, that she was a real performer, who wanted me to photograph her climbing up a tree. I happily complied and did my best to capture granny and Deniss in the tree together. It was an amazing experience. The branch however, soon began to crack and Yvgenia did all she could to stop her Grandma from falling out of the tree. It didn't work and they collapsed in a hysterical heap together on the floor.

It carried on and on. She tossed around the hay for me, fought with her gorilla grandson and culminated her small performance with a berry picking session in a nearby bush - the result of which was handed to me as a gift.

(more to follow)

Deniss

My temporary bedroom

It is Sunday evening and I have already settled into my little dormitory portion with yellow flowery walls, mismatched besheets, plastic pansy wall decorations and a strong smell of fresh paint. I have been here since yesterday at around 4pm, when we arrived from the train station in a matt-grey soviet style minibus. There are people from 13 countries and I am sharing a section of a larger dormitory with a Ukrainian girl and an Italian (one who couldn't be more different from each other).

We are staying in a place which normally houses children with learning difficulties and or no parents. This is why the rooms are so gaily painted and have cuddly toy collections on the cabinets and in the drawers. For our first evening, we ate, had an introductory session and settled in, ate, and then found ourselves back on the bus and on the way to Ludza.

Our guide, bless his cottons, was absolutely hilarious. It wasn't so much his small knowledge of English that I found funny (as frankly I don't think it is funny when people in other countries try and speak my language when I don't know theirs) so much as his facial expressions and contortions and his rising and falling tone. oh and also what he said!

First we had a brief overview. Then we went into the orthodox church, where he announced that we were in the part of the church called earth and behind the altar was heaven and "the priest comes from heaven and acts as a bridge between heaven and earth - which is ideal really" it was all too much for me and clearly some other people who were all stifling giggles. It definitely felt like a school trip.

We then went to the castle ruins, the "jew street" and the square, before getting back on the bus and hitting the town's local festival.

The festival consisted of extremely old couples whirling each other round and then smooching like teenagers. Within 5 minutes I was pulled onto the dance-floor by an old geezer who looked like he was from a David Lynch movie. In fact, the whole place suddenly became a David Lynch movie. The harsh colourful lighting on the dance-floor, combined with the assortment of old pissed people, dwarfs, children with toy guns and local slappers all in the forest to a sound-scape of loud early nineties rock covers did weird me out.

After his sudden confidence boost from having a young, angliski, lady to dance with he came into his own. Most of his moves were based around the squat, and the leap. He dazzled all of us by dancing in the centre of our circle for ages. The he got lucky with a very elegant old lady and then they started arguing and she went away.

We got home fairly late and I conked it straight away.

I woke up, excited to do some yoga and went out onto the lawn with my mat. The birds were tweeting, the sunbeams pushing through the trees, and the sky was blue. How lovely, and then a high pitched hum in my right ear. Then my left. Then a pinch on my right leg, one on my left and one on my face. The little bastard mozzies had found an english breakfast. Doing yoga in a damp field full of mozzies is unpleasant and presents a variety of ethical and philosophical questions. Should one swat the blighters in order to attain a higher state of being? will I come back as one if I do? Is Mr Yoga frowning down from above? and how the hec are you meant to concentrate on one leg whilst having your blood sucked.

After discovering other people had suffered the same fate, we spoke to the guy running it and persuaded him to do it in doors. Unfortunately, after his kind co-operation I did not manage to get to the class as I drank 4 small glasses of various alcohols and couldn't wake up. I now feel very guilty. I will be there before everyone else tomorrow morning. (02.08.09)

So, like the last attempt at a blog of my overseas experiences I will not discuss the project I am working on too much as I carry it around in my head all day long and this blog acts as a nice chance to ponder the smaller moments of my time here. Feel free to pester me for pictures after Saturday when the final images will be chosen,printed and exhibited in the local cinema.

Ta ta for now.

Gracex

London-Latvia

I am writing this from a beautiful wooden house in the long Latvian city of Jurmala - pronounced "Yurmala" (or there abouts!) In my first 7 hours here I have seen a fair few corners of this Baltic beauty, and I'm sure there are more to come. 

I was irritated, and yet not surprised that my budget phone network "3 mobile" haven't managed to connect me over here. After trying to write a predictive text (something I have never managed to learn) from a friendly spanish guy's phone, I ended up zipping back a few years and hunted down a local phone-card because the pay phone kept spitting out my Lats. 

I contacted Agnese, who had kindly offered to host someone arriving for the workshop from overseas. The email from the lady informing me of this opportunity wrote "I'm afraid it isn't in Riga, she lives in the seaside town of Jurmala" - what a pity, I thought, I will have to stay near the beach! So far Latvia had struck me as a very organised and straightforward place. People were helpful when I asked them for assistance, the sun was the perfect temperature and there was a nice ambience. The local train cost me £1.23 for the same distance as the £10 rip-off Stanstead express, was cleaner and a nice sunny yellow colour. I had a very pleasant sunset train ride, watching people on bicycles going parallel to the train with the forest as a backdrop. I knew that the Baltic sea was just behind those trees. 

Agnese met me from the station and I liked her instantly. We walked five minutes and were at her parents wooden house with a big garden full of flowers. She made me a cup of homegrown melissa tea and we had "getting to know you" hour. She is doing an MA in environmental science and likes photography as a hobby. She lives with her mum, dad and little brother and is going to live in Iceland for 3 months at the end of August. She fanced showing me the "Russian festival" up the beach so after a tasty omelette we went for a stroll. 

In 10 minutes we were on the white sandy beach, the sun had just set, yet it was after 10pm and there were amazing patterns in the sky. We walked in the sea for about a km towards a collection of lights with very large cheezy house beats coming out of them. As we approached we could see some sort of private sectioned-off area with a stage. It must be part of the festival Agnese thought... A bit further up and we cut into the road behind the beach. Suddenly we were surrounded by pimped up cars and women balancing on needle-thin heels. Bring on the oligarchs! now I understood what Agnese meant. 

At this point I began to understand the bizarre divisions that occur in Latvian society. 40 % of the population here are "Latvian Russians" people who's families came over during the russian occupation and settled here. Agnese told me they don't mix socially but she has colleagues and classmates who are Russian and they get on. She also told me that there are people who have lived in Latvia for 50 years who speak no Latvian and the language nearly died out as it was forbidden during communism. Latvians very nearly became a minority in their own country, but when communism collapsed the tables turned. ( I will write about this at some point when I know a bit more) 

We watched people waiting for the Russian pop stars to come out and then we walked back down the main street, stopping off for a cuppa halfway. The TV was playing the whole gig, which turned out to be a euro-vision-esque pop tournament for members of the former USSR. There was a Russian Jamiroquai, a Kazakh r&b singer, a Georgian balladess, a Ukrainian duo doing  a rendition of "your own personal jesus" and a big fat russian lady - Anna something - who warbled away behind her plastic face. Then, for the finale, a group chorus of "you are not alone" which included a solo by a Russian man who looked like he had had plastic surgery to look like Michael Jackson. The irony.

Me and Agnese giggled and gasped our way through the terrifyingly bad songs and mangled plastic faces of the performers and then carried on walking. I was extremely relieved I was staying with a like-minded person, and not someone who would actually want to take me to a show like that. Apparently the tickets were ridiculous prices and only the super rich could go anyway.

So now I am in my bright green bedroom for the next few nights on a very comfortable scandinavian-esque wooden fold out bed. There are thousands of stars in the sky and crickets outside and a warm sea to swim in tomorrow. So far, I like Latvia very much.