Cuernos De Chivo (AK-47s) & Richard the Lionheart At Acre
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Because I have a good
memory I remember that in 17 March of 1992 the Israeli Embassy in Buenos Aires suffered a terrorism attack, a suicide
bombing, later attributed to Iran.
Twenty-nine civilians were killed in the attack and 242 additional civilians
|A Federal in Acapulco with his cuerno de chivo|
When lots more
terrorism began to unfold in the new century my Argentine artist friend Juan
Manuel Sánchez discussed that a safe heaven far from it all would be the
Argentine Patagonia. Since then wealth Americans have discovered it and
property would now be at a premium.
One of the more
onerous by-products of social media these days are the ambulance chasers who
clamour to be first with the “This is my favourite song (video, film) by so and
so.” It is interesting to note that none of my social media friends noted the
death of Ben Bradlee. He spoke good French but didn’t sing.
Then there is that
picture of one of those American women with I believe an Armenian background
that appears with the heading that fewer people have died of Ebola than married
her or one of her sisters.
TV news, social media,
newspapers, the on line ones and the hard copy ones, all tell us of relevant
but mostly irrelevant details about disasters, kidnappings, and war. But most
recently it was all about the terrorist tragedy in Ottawa. The me-tooers are reverently placing
their ten cent opinions on the matter as if I would be interested on the
opinion of an eminent local actor’s opinion on the matter. I would be most
interested in noting that the terrorist, Michael Zehaf-Bibeau when he ran from
the first assassination to his car I was sure he had no gun. Did he leave it behind?
Did he have more guns in that car?
After a few years of
watching MSNBC and particularly Rachel Maddow I have come to the conclusion
that American politicians are either Democrats or idiots. One of them
Republican Representative from Alaska,
Don Young (81 in spite of his name) said a few things in a recent debate that
he had to apologize for. One of them I thought was funny:
Dismissing same sex
marriage he asked, “What do you get with two bulls?”
But this other
statement made me think:
He offended some high
school students who recently lost a classmate to suicide by suggesting that
suicide was result of a lack of support from friends and family.
That made me think of dead
terrorist Michael Zehaf-Bibeau’s mother in her apology to the murdered soldier
Cpl Nathan Cirillo’s family that she had not seen her son in five years and she
hated him. How off the mark is that idiot from Alaska?
In 1191, after the
fall of fall of Acre (in the Holy land),
during the Third Crusade, Richard the Lionheart attempted to negotiate terms of
surrender with the Saracens. Richard wanted to exchange over 3,000 captured
prisoners for the True Cross, as well as a hefty ransom and imprisoned
After much delay by
Saladin and the Muslims, Richard, became impatient so he personally marched his
prisoners to a hill called Ayyadieh. There, in full view of the nearby Muslim
army encampment, Richard ordered the slaughter of the over 3,000 prisoners,
women and children included. They were all mercilessly beaten to death, axed
and cut down by swords and lances. A Muslim force, so enraged by this act,
attempted to charge the crusader lines but was repeatedly beaten back, allowing
Richard and his army to retire in good order. It would seem that terrorism in
the name of the True God does not differentiate from one God or the Other.
While I never met a terrorist
in person I did meet Alfredo Astiz as a young and handsome (clean cut, too)
Argentine Navy Lieutenant. I wrote about him here. And in related blogs here and here.
How could I have foreseen
that this man would perform unspeakable crimes against humanity?
|Not a terrorist in Acapulco|
It is know but
forgotten that when the Brazilian government was attempting to unite the vast
landmass with highways into the Amazon interior that small airplanes were sent
that dropped dynamite to help depopulate Native Brazilian villages that were in
the way. There was never a confirmation that deadly spores were also thrown
It would seem to me
that terrorism has always been with us and that it has been universal and that
it has not respected any skin colour. The Japanese massacred the Chinese in
Nanking and Generals Julio A Rocca and Bartolomé Mitre in Argentina pacified the natives dead much in the same way as in the United States. Is there any difference between massacre and terrorism? We know that in WWII the Luftwaffe installed specialized air brakes and sirens that made the dive bombing runs of their Stukas fill those in the ground with terror.
At this date the 42 young Mexican students (to be teachers) that disappeared in Iguala, Guerrero have yet to be found. This will be probably seen as narco-terrorism associated with dishonest Mexican police.
My friend Trans-Link
driver Paul came to visit me on Wednesday afternoon and I told him, “Watch for
men, or women with bulky midriffs who board your bus.” I then added that Patagonia was looking pretty good.
On The Instantaneous
Friday, October 24, 2014
My first book purchase
when Rosemary, Alexandra, Hilary and I arrived in Vancouver
from Mexico City
in 1975 was The Random House Dictionary of the English Language – The
Unabridged Edition – 1966
I don’t open it much
these days with the ready availability of on-line dictionaries. I chose to do
so today as a form of illustrating today’s blog on the theme of the over use
(in my books) of the word still.
For anybody not
acquainted with photography you might not know that the photographer, who
shoots (non-moving) photographs when films (the moving kind) are being made, is
called the stills photographer.
If you know a bit
about art you might recognize the name of the New York-based photographer Cindy
Sherman. She achieved international fame with her series Untitled Film Stills, 1977–1980, which consists of 69
black-and-white photographs. The artist poses (they are self-portraits in
different roles and settings (streets, yards, pools, beaches, and interiors), producing
a result reminiscent of stills typical of Italian neorealist or American film
noir of the 1940s, 1950s and 1960s.
I shot stills of CBC
variety and drama series at the CBC from 1977 until the early 80s. I always
argued (for fun) with the crews that stills came before moving pictures and
thus they should be called moves photographers.
Another romantic use
of still is to attach it to the idea of making illicit booze in the Deep South
of the United States.
So far so good. But I
started noticing by the early 90s that people I had not seen for a while would
start conversations with, “Alex are you still…” I knew what they were driving
at. They did not consider photography a relevant (much as it in fact is not
relevant now) profession and they wanted to know if I had moved to a better and
more established mode for making money. I particularly got miffed when the
questioners were lawyers, I usually responded, “Are you still lawyering?”
Another awful use of
still is in connection with the proliferation of female selfies in facebook
(note that the style of the logo means it should be in lower case). Because I
have few acquaintances under 40, most of these selfies are of women over 40. Many
of the pictures are terrible phone selfies or dark with light backgrounds, or
in a merciless flash situation at a restaurant or party. Friends will comment, “You
are still beautiful.” Since I don’t rant or complain on facebook I do not put
stuff like, “Wow, what an active and incisive brain!”
The other side of the
coin is that nobody comments on man selfies, “You are still handsome.”
If I were a woman over
40 and someone wrote about my perceived beauty with still, I would
immediately go to the Hudson’s
Bay and purchase a large jar of Oil of Olay.
And yes I am still
taking photographs. On a sadder note I remember the many times my mother told me as a young boy, "Your sister, Vicky had red hair. She was still-born."
The Virgin Floozy In The Tub
Thursday, October 23, 2014
|Joelle - 1989|
One of the most
pleasing aspects in my ever diminishing profession as a photographer is to be
able to photograph someone more than once. It especially interesting when time
has transpired between the sittings.
Sometime in 1989 as I
was planning my show of women photographed in tubs I went through the people I
knew and asked them, “Would you pose for me in tub?” Without mentioning that I
wanted them unclothed the idea of them being in a tub of water precluded
clothing as such except for two of them who wore bikini bottoms. I found out
quickly that the easiest way to have a woman take off all her clothes was to
suggest a bathtub.
In my search for
subjects once I exhausted my list of friends I went to Emily Carr to have lunch
with my friend Derrick Carter, who at the time was teaching design at the
former institute but know university. I asked him if he knew of any
possibilities. He coincidentally pointed at young red-haired woman on the cafeteria
line-up and said, “She would do it.”
In retrospect, I know
realize that this whole procedure would now be deemed inappropriate by any
education institution. But things were definitely different in that past century.
I got up and without any
kind of introduction I went to the red haired woman and quickly told her of my
project. I finished it with, “If I were you I would not do this.” To which she
said, ‘I’ll do it.”
When my 21 year-old
daughter Alexandra insisted in being photographed in the tub and I found it a
bit uncomfortable I wavered but she was insistent. I decided that the safe
route was to get her to pose at the same time as the red-haired Joelle who
was also 21. They helped each other in the process and I was delighted with the
results. I was particularly impressed by her delightful smile and that sparkle in her eyes.
I have no memory on
how it was that in June 2003 a visibly pregnant Joelle again posed in my
|Joelle - 2003|
Just a few days I
posted a blog about my daughter’s tub photograph here. In facebook Joelle
commented on the title of that blog in this way:
makes me laugh! That must have made me the ‘The Virgin Floozy’".
I talked to Joelle today and so that is
the explanation for this day’s blog title.
I remember the shapes and sizes of the water taps
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
There must be quite a few things a hot bath
won’t cure, but I don’t know many of them. Whenever I’m sad I’m going to die,
or so nervous I can’t sleep, or in love with somebody I won’t be seeing for a
week, I slump down just so far and then I say: “I’ll go take a hot bath.
I meditate in the bath. The water needs to
be very hot, so hot you can barely stand putting your foot in it. Then you
lower yourself, inch by inch, till the water’s up to your neck.
I remember the ceiling over every bathtub
I’ve stretched out in. I remember the texture of the ceilings and the cracks
and the colors and the damp spots and the light fixtures. I remember the tubs,
too: the antique griffin-legged tubs, and the modern coffin-shaped tubs, and
the fancy pink marble tubs overlooking indoor lily ponds, and I remember the
shapes and sizes of the water taps and the different sorts of soap holders.
I never feel so much myself as when I’m in
a hot bath.”
Sylvia Plath —The Bell Jar, Chapter Two
You take about 50 photographs of a beautiful woman in a tub and you pick one for a show. Years later you go back to take a look and you notice these. We do know that Sylvia Plath and Diane Arbus are connected by the fact that both committed suicide. Plath was a poet, novelist and short-story writer who put her head in an oven. Diane Arbus was a photographer known best for her "freaks" and the best portrait ever taken of Jorge Luís Borges. She died by slitting her wrists in a hot tub of water. I find it paradoxical that Plath found comfort in a tub and wrote beautifully about it.
Sometime in 1988 I went to see a punk band at Gary Taylor's on Howe Street. In a dark corner I spotted this young girl with a face that could have launched thousands of men to start smoking. Since I have never been shy about this things I approached her and that led to a couple of years of a photographic relationship where I began my personal obsession for the photography of women in bath tubs.
I look at these pictures and marvel at the human face. How can a pair of eyes, one nose, a mouth a couple of eyebrows all result in this remarkable and haunting face? I will never understand the photographer who is attracted to the landscape when the landscape of a human face can be so much more interesting simply because I can never really pin down what may be behind those eyes staring at my camera.
Years before I had known a dancer at the Number 5 Orange called Snow who had a look similar to Alexandria. I would often describe to my friends that Snow was the kind of woman you would see getting off a Flxible Continental Trailways bus in a small West Texas town in the middle of a hot summer afternoon. She would have been wearing a white gingham dress, high heeled shoes and carrying a cheap cardboard suitcase. When I see such faces it is easy for me to understand why all those Greeks fought a war over the face of a woman.
Monopsony - My Ennui & Weltschmerz
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
|Coyoacán, Mexico 1962|
Globalization has helped standardize
language. Not too many days ago I was lambasted by a friend for using a word,
Amazon these days is being accused of being
a monopoly in its battle with book publisher Hachette. Paul Krugman the economist/NY Times
columnist does not agree and uses a word I had never seen before, monopsony,
which he defines as: a dominant buyer with the power to push prices down.
The reason for my bringing up the subject
and the word is that I have long taken the advice of a book I used when I
taught high school in the early 70s in Mexico
City. It was called 30 Days Towards a More Powerful
Vocabulary by Doctor Wilfred Funk & Norman Lewis. Central to the book was
the idea of using the new words in sentences orally and then writing them. This
was a way of making these words “your own”. Thanks to the book I was able to
teach my students the difference between an ophthalmologist (a medical, as in
MD, eye doctor/surgeon) and the optometrist (someone I would not only not buy a
used car from but would not trust for an eye check-up). The book taught the
students and teacher the meaning of ennui and its difference from weltschmerz.
1. The ennui induced by persistent
solicitations to join new social networks.
2. 'Sunday Morning ' is sweet as a picnic
and full of cut-price weltschmerz to luxuriate in, even though I was only just
I feel both these days and perhaps because
of their joint participation in my state of mind I don’t flame people who use:
2. At the end of the day.
3. Award-winning (writer, photographer,
designer, idiot, etc)
I would suggest that for 1 you might
replace it with a simple Yes! or even Exactly! For 2, I thought that at the
finish line might work or perhaps at sunset. And for 3. I would list the awards or not use the
combination award-winning at all.
|Guanajuato, Mexico 1962|
All the above serve but as excuse to place
two photographs I took in Mexico in 1962 which I entered into a an art
competition at the University of the Americas where I was struggling to become
an engineer, a task I failed when I had to face figuring out the difference
between capacitance and inductance. My
photographs, including these two won the photography side of the university
competition and the award I got was signed by Rufino Tamayo. As far as I am
concerned that is the only award I am proud of and the scads that I won
later have left me in complete ennui.
Addendum: How could I forget the "I am going to curl up with a good book."
What Is New Music? Why I Listen To It
Monday, October 20, 2014
I was listening to the
Pacific Baroque Orchestra rehearse, with Alexander Weimann directing a flute
concerto by František Benda (1709-1786) in early October 2014. I had never heard of the composer
or his Flute concerto in E minor played by the Finnish soloist Soile
was new, pristine and fresh.
|Alexander Weimann centre|
It was as new,
pristine, fresh, and as surprising (and exciting) as going to my first opera at
the Teatro Colón in Buenos Aires
in 1964. A beautiful Viennese girl invited me to Prokofiev’s The Fiery Angel.
The Fiery Angel -Sergei Prokofiev
It was as new, etc as
my first listening to Stan Getz and Charlie Byrd playing Desafinado in Jazz Samba in 1962.
In fact of all the new
music I have been exposed to since I can remember, it was that Jazz Samba,
coming out, seemingly from nowhere, that truly wowed me to the experience of listening
to something for the first time.
That lyrical Jazz
Samba gave me the impetus to take my chances on a record I purchased at an
import store where I could not listen to it first. It was Stan Getz's Focus with a
string orchestra and music composed and arranged by Eddie Sauter. This record, with the tune I'm Late, I'm Late
first weaned me from syrupy jazz and prepared me to some day "take music like a
man" as Charles Ives once said. Dissonance was now part of my vocabulary. But Arnold Schoenberg had to wait.
At the time there was
a movement called Third Stream Music that attempted (successfully in my
opinion) to merge jazz with contemporary classical (as in New Music) of the
time. In fact it was John Lewis and his
Modern Jazz Quartet’s 1959 album Third Stream Music that had alerted me
to the wonders of dissonance and the sound of cellos being played loudly
particularly in Sketch For Double String Quartet.
Learning to print b+w
prints in the darkroom of Mexico City’s
University of the Americas
with my friend Robert we would listen to Getz, Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis and
The Modern Jazz Quartet from his huge reel to reel tape machine. I also
listened to an odd rendition of Tea For Two played by the solo piano of
Thelonius Monk. To my ears he seemed to play the right wrong notes. Almost more
lyrical is Dmitri Shostakovich’s arrangement of that song.
Tea For Two Thelonious Monk, Oscar Pettiford bass, Art Blakey drums
Tea For Two Arrangement Dmitri Shostakovich & directed by Mstislav Rostropovich
It was in 1962 that
the Baroque Era blossomed into a re-existence as new music through the
proliferation of recordings by the German label Archiv. It was in 1962 that I
first heard music by Girolamo Frescobaldi in a Mexican baroque church concert.
Being up close in a small place gave the music an immediacy I had not
experienced before. Because of my mother I had listened to too much
Tchaikovsky, Grieg and, Rachmaninoff although I never ever got tired of
listening to her play Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.
Sonata No. 14 in C Sharp Minor, Op. 27 No. 2 "Moonlight"
Toccata Terza - libro primo - Girolamo Frescobaldi Hank Knox
Now, most recently Early Music Vancouver has been featuring the music of the 17th century
sometimes called music of the fantastic period. Many of the composers, up until now, in our times, may have been unknown and recordings of their music all but unavailable.
That has changed. Consider that a small group called Stile Moderno is playing a
concert on 14 November with music by luminaries of the 17th century Marco
Uccelini, Dario Castello, Biagio Marini, Girolamo Frescobabldi, Giovanni
Battista Vitali, Johan Rosenmüller, and Antonio Bertali. How is that for new
music? And there are other groups that play this fantastic stuff like Zephiro
In spite of my early exposure to the harpsichord through the music of Girolamo Frescobaldi I did not much care for the instrument, particularly as I could not sense its presence in a baroque orchestra when it played in a continuo (bass accompaniment) mode. But talking to virtuoso harpsichord man, Alexander Weimann, Artistic Director of the Pacific Baroque Orchestra I found out that lots of that continuo playing is not written down. The harpsichordist must then improvise. With this connection to jazz, my ears opened to the wonders of the instrument.
In the year 2001 while
driving to a photographic job I was listening to a Beethoven Bagatelle on my
CBC Radio. I had to stop the car because it was so beautiful. I had to share
the experience so I called my friend Linda Lee Thomas the pianist for the VSO.
Her husband John Washburn answered. I told him of my experience. His answer was
one of long experience in an almost monotone and with a hint of jealousy, “Ah,
that feeling of hearing something for the first time.”
Beethoven, Bagatelle No. 3. Op. 126 Glen Gould
If you go to any New
Music concerts in Vancouver be presented by the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra or concerts with the Turning Point Ensemble you will note musicians that play
for other well-established orchestras. They, too, must feel a need to approach
music for the first time. Or as in the case of a recent concert by Turning
Point Ensemble to have the renewed pleasure of being exposed for a second time
of rare music of Duke Ellington. Where else in Vancouver would you get such a chance? Or how
about Stravinsky’s 1940 Tango for piano? TPE’s pianist Jane Hays’s rendition
sounded as Argentine as anything by Piazzolla.
Music that has been
played and played can be new, too. I remember the first time (and just as fresh
the last time) I heard Pablo Casal’s conducting Bach’s Second Brandenburg
Concerto in my 1987 cassette tape. Casals directs the first movement Allegro
and the third Allegro assai, my favourite concerto for trumpet part as if there
were no tomorrow or the musicians were being paid per minutes played. After
this bullet train performance the trumpet player must have been given oxygen. It
wasn’t until I came to Vancouver
that I first heard the Number 2 played live. In Mexico City
no trumpet player could tackle that first movement with the oxygen depletion of
2250 meter altitude.
Brandenburg No. 2 JS Bach Casals directs first Allegro.
I must confess that I went nuts over Bach only after listening to the Dave Brubeck Quartet play in their 1958 record Jazz Impressions of Eurasia a lovely piece called
Nor am I too embarrassed to admit that the Swingle Singers helped, too.
Usually in Vancouver, New Music
concerts involve programs that draw from the fact that our city has an
abundance of contemporary music composers. I have been to concerts featuring
many of them. That some of these composers had theirs works performed by the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra tells you that your musical institutions are not ready to rest on their laurels. Not only that the VSO has opened a smaller venue near the Orpheum that is part of its Vancouver Symphony Orchestra School of Music. And next to it is Pyatt Hall. Both these nice intimate halls feature lots of new and experimental music.
The Pacific Baroque Orchestra has commissioned works by the likes of Bradshaw Pack, Jocelyn Morlock and Peter Hannan. In a recent past Ballet British Columbia, under John Alleyne hired Turning Point Ensemble Musical Director Owen Underhill to compose the music for Boy Wonder. Ballet BC did the same with Underhill and Michael Bushnell to adapt the music of Henry Purcell for Fairie Queen. And more recently Ballet BC and Turning Point Ensemble worked together in Grace Symmetry.
Not all the orchestras that commission new stuff are big. Novo's young cellist Marina Hasselberg does interesting stuff
In 2008 I attended a concert Turning Point Ensemble concert at Ryerson United Church that was all intimate warmth even though I did not expect such a thing to happen. In my ignorance I thought that Olivier Messiaen was one of those distant French composers of the mid 20 century that I did not need to know anything about. His Quartet for the End of Time was one most pleasant surprise for me as played by these guys!
Quartet for the End of Time - Olivier Messiaen
I have to admit that I find American Charles Ives a tad difficult but if you begin with the Unanswered Question and prepare for it with Aaron Copland's El Salón México you will be well on your way to appreciating music that is old enough (well into the past century) so that the very idea of that concept "New Music" should simply be replaced by good music that will challenge and surprise your senses.
Unanswered Question - Charles Ives Chicago Symphony Orchestra under Michael Tilson Thomas
El Salón México- Aaron Copland
In closing I must point out that if your first opportunity to listen to opera is to listen to a recording, forget it. You want to see an opera performed. Then it makes sense and it will grow on you. A good sort of modern opera to go to (or listen to if you must) is Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet. That I saw it performed by Evelyn Hart means I kind die soon and not feel that the world passed me by.
Romeo & Juliet - Prokofiev Dance of the Knights.
I never did like Stravinsky's Firebird. I could not understand all the big bangs and the noise. Then I saw it performed (as it should be) as a ballet by the National Ballet of Canada and all the bangs and the noise fell into place. And it did more so when in 2011 I saw a version by the Turning Point Ensemble in cooperation with Ballet BC's Simon Orlando and composer Jocelyn Morlock.
Perhaps some of the most intimidating music, even though it is from that past century, is the music of Béla Bartók. His Six String Quartets are especially so. And yet I heard them all this year (some more than once) played by the Microcosmos String Quartet. I can certify here that I cannot yet hum any parts or differentiate one from another. But...
Listening to them in the intimacy of a living room in a nice home, with goodies and wine and being so close to the quartet that could hear them breathe contradicts the idea that this sort of music is remote and cold. Part of the fun is watching the musicians of the quartet smiling as they navigate trying parts. There is an exhilaration that is catching. The Microcosmos String Quartet headed by violinist Marc Destrubé sweetened the programs with the three Benjamin Britten Quartets. All of the music, the Britten and the Bártok were new to me, therefore it was new music!
I would like to finish this with saxophonist and composer Colin MacDonald's Folie à Deux.
It is a re-interpretation of La Folia
, a sort of Louie Louie
of the 16th century that was interpreted by the likes of Arcangelo Corelli in 1700 and by Francesco Geminiani later in the 18th century. MacDonald makes really old music seem fresh with his interpretation (and added composition) in which he mixes conventional instruments of a past age with a more modern and rarely used (in new music) soprano saxophone. MacDonald could be your first potato chip into enjoyment of many more to come.
I am not yet sure I can tackle Arnold Schoenberg - early 20th century music that might be my new music of tomorrow.
That Floozy In The Tub
Sunday, October 19, 2014
|Alexandra Waterhouse-Hayward 1989|
In recent times one of
the most famous of women has been Frida Kahlo. But there are others of note
that somehow have been overlooked. It is interesting that three of them were magnificent
photographers. One, Tina Modotti was expelled from Mexico for being a Communist. She
did not leave without giving her 4x5 view camera (which had been a gift from
her friend Edward Weston for whom she had posed in the nude) to a noted
Mexican-photographer-to-be Manuel Álvarez Bravo. Another was Margaret Bourke-White
who was a WWII photographer and the first woman in a bombing run over Germany.
A third is only now
being discovered. She is Lee Miller who appeared in many avant-garde films of
the 30s and was a model and assistant to Man Ray. Like Bourke-White she was
also a photographer on the European front in WWII.
Imagine my surprise to
have found in a pristine condition, this book on Lee Miller, originally
published in 1985, but this one reprinted in 1999. I found the book in the
reject book cart at my Oakridge Public Library. I paid $1.50.
Of interest to me was
a stereo photograph of Lee Miller taken by her father Theodore Miller when she
was 21. It is a full-frontal nude that I will not place here and just leave it
to your imagination that Miller was one of the most beautiful women to have
ever been photographed by Steichen and his kind. The double photograph was
taken 1 July 1928 in Kingwood Park, Poughkeepsie,
In 1989 I embarked on
a project to photograph about 16 women, one at a time, in a tub. I shot the
pictures with my medium format camera shooting down on the tub. The tub in
question, in my basement had a ledge so that I was able to lodge my tripod. I
used the same lens and film and light setup. This project ultimately became one
of my better known gallery shows.
Halfway through the
project, one weekend, my wife asked me, “What floozy is posing for you today?” I could not resist saying, “It is a floozy
you know very well. It is our daughter Ale.”
During my tub picture
taking my 21-year-old daughter asked to be part of the series. I found her
request uncomfortable but she insisted. On the day of the pictures I asked
another of my subjects (about Ale’s age) to come so that the two would assist
each other and make it less of an issue for me.