A THOUSAND WORDS - Alex Waterhouse-Hayward's blog on pictures, plants, politics and whatever else is on his mind.




 

Las palmeras salvajes
Saturday, September 29, 2018




En mi ciudad adoptiva de Vancouver pocas palmeras pueden sobrevivir el clima frío aunque esté algo templado (por una corriente cálida que proviene del Japón) en comparación con el resto del Canadá.

Pero ir a Buenos Aires en la primavera (nosotros fuimos algo temprano hace una semana) es imposible no notar las palmeras de la ciudad a pesar de los brillantes azules de las jacarandás en flor.

En mi niñez teníamos dos enormes palmeras en el jardín en nuestra casa en Coghlan. Mi máma en la noche con una vela y tijeras iba en busca de las babosas que comían las plantas. Sin querer acercó la vela a una de las palmeras y se prendió fuego instantáneamente. Los bomberos llegaron y pudieron apagar las flamas y salvar la palmera.

Para mí es interesante que Jorge Luís Borges en 1940 tradujo la novela de William Faulkner, The Wild Palms (Las palmeras salvajes) del inglés al castellano.

La foto que ilustra esta bitácora la tomé en Buenos Aires el 29 de septiembre de 2018 muy cerca del zoológico y la antes jaula de los tigres, lugar favorito de Borges.



The Sometimes Excellence of Age & Experience
Friday, September 28, 2018





This is going to be a gentle rant so please be forewarned.

Because my father left our house in Buenos Aires when I was 8 and my mother was a high school teacher working hard to make ends meet, my grandmother Dolores Reyes de Irureta Goyena was the great influence of my life. It was only around 1969 when she returned from a trip to Egypt that I finally lost touch with her. She had advanced dementia and did not recognize me.

She raised me in a surprisingly modern way. She never told me, “Alex don’t do that.” Her way was, “Alex, if you do that, this is what is going to happen.” She somehow knew all the advice on record in Cervantes’s Don Quixote uttered by Sancho Panza. To this day, I too remember most of the advice that came my way via the ultimate Spanish novel.



But what most stays in my mind is that this woman, who was an artist, defended me from all kinds of punishment by pointing out, that I, too, was an artist. I cannot remember when she and I would have been at odds and when I might have lost respect for her or considered her to be an old woman with no relevant information that could make my life better.

Perhaps it was the old school dictum that you had to respect your elders because they were so.

The picture you see here I took in September 28 of this year. I can see in the picture influence and experience that began in 1962. How is that?

In 1962 my artist friend Robert Hijar and I  were attending Mexico City College in Mexico City. Since he was in the art department he had access to the college dark room. It was in that darkroom (while Robert played StanGetz/Eddie Sauter’s album Focus on his reel to reel), that I would place my negatives into the enlarger and figure multiple ways of cropping the photograph.

It was not until I started shooting for Vancouver Magazine in 1977 that I learned that art directors were the boss and that they could do anything with my photographs. It was then that I learned to crop my photographs in camera and have all that was important there. Cropping the picture (and I shot both vertical and horizontal versions) would eliminate important and necessary parts and take away the relevance of the image. Art directors rarely cropped my photographs. They had little choice.

It was around 1977 that my Rosemary said, “Alex you are never going to learn to print colour negatives and colour slides. This Monday you start a colour course at Ampro Photo Workshops on West Broadway." Thus I learned to print and to note the difference between photographic blue and photographic cyan or the difference between yellow and green. In colour correction  these colours can trick one.

That information, thanks to my Rosemary, helps me in this 21st century to colour balance both my scans of my film negatives and slides but also of my digital pictures.

It was at Vancouver Magazine that excellent and inspiring art directors (not to mention the editor) pushed me to shoot beyond the established parameters. There always had to be a different way of shooting the cliché. To this day I will not shoot anything without finding some roundabout way of making it different.

My contemporaries, who shoot digital, use a system which creates huge files called RAW files. They tell me that with these files a lot can be done to correct minor and even major mistakes of exposure.
The magazines of the last century expected all colour photographs to be taken with slide film. Slide film has a low tolerance for exposure mistakes (the technical term is latitude). Once you overexposed an assignment, and before scanners and Photoshop were around, you threw the slides away and started from scratch. This taught all magazine photographer to be precise in exposure.

Then the automatic cameras happened. The reason these early automatic cameras worked so well is that photographers used colour negative film which had a very good latitude for exposure mistakes. They were the RAW of the past.

The picture that illustrates this blog came about from seeing in Vancouver countless extremely sharp dance pictures everywhere. In frozen motion, motion is not noticed. It is the blur that suggests motion. I learned the technique of using shutter speed of 1/5, 1/8, ¼ and even ½ second attending Sunday performances of the Arts Umbrella Dance Company.

After learning to dance the Argentine Tango some years ago I gave myself a magazine-type assignment. How could I shoot tango in a different way? This is what I did.

So on September 28 in the evening at Lavalle and Florida in Buenos Aires where a dance troupe performs every evening I decided I was going to only shoot their legs.

And this I did, proving that this picture began its creation sometime in 1962 on the highway from Mexico City to Toluca.

And yes experience and age do sometimes add a bit of excellence.




No Shingle to Hang - Alas!
Thursday, September 27, 2018




It was the 20th century ambition of any photographer to have a studio separate from where one lived.
My first studio was the basement in our Burnaby home beginning in 1975. The restriction was the low ceiling. But I had a darkroom that was clean, bright and spacious and came with its own bathroom.

Between 1980 and until around 1995 I had several studios which I shared with other photographers.
Then I had my own studio, all for myself on the corner of Robson and Granville which served as my headquarters away from our home in Kerrisdale. It was downtown and I felt I as in the thick of things. Ballet dancers would come to my studio as they were blocks away. It was a comfortable studio with old radiators. I shared the floor (not the studio!) with noted artists Neil Wedman and Rodney Graham. While I might have been considered (and still to this day) as a commercial hack I felt slightly artistic - a hack wanting to be an artist.

At one point around 7 years ago (when journalism and magazines was dipping into oblivion) money entering my Farmer Building studio was not exceeding money going out. My Rosemary thought that closing my studio at that time would have affected my morale. But it was in the books and I finally closed the studio and the building was soon torn down.

There was something about having a studio not in one’s home that brought a creativity that somehow came in during the trip to the studio. I would arrive early look at my lights and equipment and somehow inspiration would seep into my brain.



Letting go of the studio was heart wrenching especially when you look back at a career and you realize as I did that the work I was doing and the trappings of doing that work were gone.
An older contemporary, a much older contemporary, Fred Schiffer had a lovely studio under the parking bridge on Seymour by the Hudson’s Bay Company. Sometime in the early 90s he saw the writing on the wall (he photographed the powerful men of Vancouver and their families). He closed his studio and purchased compact flash equipment and began (before anybody else) the photography in the homes of his clients. In his prime, before digital cameras took over, Schiffer was the most expensive wedding photographer in Canada.

Two years ago the final nail on my way of life came to end when we sold our large Kerrisdale  home. It was there that I had a comfortable darkroom. I never expected the magazines that hired me to print my negatives. I printed them myself and since I began printing around 1961 I think I was very good. I came to understand that an art gallery print and one for reproduction in magazines or newspapers were two distinct entities. My photographs always looked good in publication.

Now in our little Kitsilano duplex (the darkroom long gone) I have a little studio and “oficina” in what used to be the garage. It is comfy and warm. The studio is intimate but really the correct definition is that is it just plain small.



I sit at my antique Edwardian desk with my computer and scanner on my left. I can look out on our deck garden. Behind me are 7 4-drawer filing cabinets that contain my life’s work in negatives, slides and prints. The bigger prints are inside two new Opus-purchased flats. The oficina is carpeted but I have a small Persian carpet on top of that. Like a sore thumb there is the presence of my bike. I have no other place to store it.

What is important for me is to cross that deck in the morning to open the door of my oficina/studio. It is not the same as driving or taking the trolley as I used to in my trips to Robson and Granville. But it will have to do.

With money in the bank and two brand new but lovely brother and sister cats, Rosemary and I, who are in good health, really have no worries except perhaps that of fussing over our two daughters and two granddaughters. We can plan trips abroad in Mexico, Argentina, New York and perhaps soon to Barcelona and to Guadalajara.



But in my present life in which I seriously tell everybody that I am obsolete, redundant & retired crossing that deck to sit down and write this blog seems to be the only thing going for me.

Sometimes I feel sad and sometimes the lack of stress feels pleasant.

But I have to admit that the lack of stress can be stressful, too.










Heren - ヘレン
Wednesday, September 26, 2018


Cyanotype by Katsushika Hokusai ( woodblock print circa 1833)



In our recent trip to Buenos Aires we were not able to go to the San Telmo (the oldest neighbourhood of the city) Sunday market. We managed to go the day before. Amongst all the stuff, I spotted what looked to be a pristine cyanotype in an 6x7 inch size. I bargained and got it for the equivalent of $10 US.

Imagine my surprise when I investigated (I contacted my former Japanese student Hiroshi Suyama who is now a curator at the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of Photograpy) and found out that it was a cyanotype circa 1833 probably done by Katsushika Hokusai.

Suyama told me that the print if it is the real thing could be worth many thousands of dollars.




My Incurable Voyeurism
Tuesday, September 25, 2018



The word voyeur in its Frenchness sounds romantic. It may be a word used to describe a man like me who formerly as a young boy could have been considered as such.

Perhaps a key element of the voyeur is an inability to communicate with the person one is watching (spying?). In my case my voyeurism was all about my shyness in thinking I was a nerd (before that word came to be coined). I sometimes wonder if my voyeurism could have become dangerous. Was I a stalker?
When I was 16 and living in Mexico City I went in buses. In some buses young girls, pretty young girls leaving their private schools would be on the bus at the same time every day. I would sometimes take a bus knowing my adored vision would be on board. I would stare on the sly and imagine what it could be if I could only come up to her and say, “Soy su admiradora. ¿Cómo te llamas?”

One particular vision of my delight was a young woman with very white skin and black hair who always would get off her school bus around the corner from my house. The school bus was for the Colegio Hebreo Sefaradí. She was as exotic as my concept of the Jewish Spaniards who had been expelled so many years before by Queen Isabella. I never had the nerve to speak to her or to meet her eyes if she happened to look at me as I "casually" walked by the bus that had stopped at her house.

By the time I was in a boarding school in Austin, Texas I avoided the school dances or sock hops as they were called because I did not know how to dance and I was much too shy to talk to girls.
But I did manage to find a girl that I could talk to who talked back to me. She was a very short Mexican/American cheerleader called Judy Reyes. Because I played the alto saxophone for the school band I could spy on her while playing with the band at school football games. The girls from the Catholic school across town called St. Mary’s were the girls we were supposed to associate with.

I believe I may have found the nerve to dance with Judy a couple of times and I even remember that the song (one for slow dancing) was called A Summer Place which was sung by Sandra Dee.

Until I was able to extricate my shyness in one very important occasion and talk to that lovely long blonde haired (with lovely legs) Rosemary Healey who became my wife in 1968, all my previous girl friends were women who aggressively picked me up!

These nights at age 76 I sometimes dream of these women and I wonder if looking back at them is somehow a version of my incurable voyeurism?




Tíbulos
Monday, September 24, 2018




TÍBULOS – Mario Benedetti

A Ernesto Sabato

Hace ya medio siglo
don nicola creía
que el lascivo prostíbulo
y el discreto vestíbulo
eran lo mismo

por entonces las vírgenes
besaban a sus novios
en el vestíbulo

y los novios seguían
cursos de sexo básico
en el prostíbulo

ahora las casas vienen
con poquísimas vírgenes
y sin vestíbulo

y los hombres de empresa
exigen cinco estrellas
en el prostíbulo

ay don nicola
por fin tus dos palabras
son una sola.



     

Previous Posts
My Photographic Lineage With Lisa

Remembrance - Not

The Potentiality of a Rosebud

The Darkroom & the Glove

Beauty in Fall Decay

A Post-Halloween-Pre-Christmassy-Rant

No Tigers, Clowns or Brass Bands - Backbone a Circ...

Béatrice Larrivé - a Ghost at the Vancouver Playho...

Costumbrismo - Laurence Gough, Mario Vargas Llosa ...

Alex - the Serial Bombmaker



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10/14/12 - 10/21/12

10/21/12 - 10/28/12

10/28/12 - 11/4/12

11/4/12 - 11/11/12

11/11/12 - 11/18/12

11/18/12 - 11/25/12

11/25/12 - 12/2/12

12/2/12 - 12/9/12

12/9/12 - 12/16/12

12/16/12 - 12/23/12

12/23/12 - 12/30/12

12/30/12 - 1/6/13

1/6/13 - 1/13/13

1/13/13 - 1/20/13

1/20/13 - 1/27/13

1/27/13 - 2/3/13

2/3/13 - 2/10/13

2/10/13 - 2/17/13

2/17/13 - 2/24/13

2/24/13 - 3/3/13

3/3/13 - 3/10/13

3/10/13 - 3/17/13

3/17/13 - 3/24/13

3/24/13 - 3/31/13

3/31/13 - 4/7/13

4/7/13 - 4/14/13

4/14/13 - 4/21/13

4/21/13 - 4/28/13

4/28/13 - 5/5/13

5/5/13 - 5/12/13

5/12/13 - 5/19/13

5/19/13 - 5/26/13

5/26/13 - 6/2/13

6/2/13 - 6/9/13

6/9/13 - 6/16/13

6/16/13 - 6/23/13

6/23/13 - 6/30/13

6/30/13 - 7/7/13

7/7/13 - 7/14/13

7/14/13 - 7/21/13

7/21/13 - 7/28/13

7/28/13 - 8/4/13

8/4/13 - 8/11/13

8/11/13 - 8/18/13

8/18/13 - 8/25/13

8/25/13 - 9/1/13

9/1/13 - 9/8/13

9/8/13 - 9/15/13

9/15/13 - 9/22/13

9/22/13 - 9/29/13

9/29/13 - 10/6/13

10/6/13 - 10/13/13

10/13/13 - 10/20/13

10/20/13 - 10/27/13

10/27/13 - 11/3/13

11/3/13 - 11/10/13

11/10/13 - 11/17/13

11/17/13 - 11/24/13

11/24/13 - 12/1/13

12/1/13 - 12/8/13

12/8/13 - 12/15/13

12/15/13 - 12/22/13

12/22/13 - 12/29/13

12/29/13 - 1/5/14

1/5/14 - 1/12/14

1/12/14 - 1/19/14

1/19/14 - 1/26/14

1/26/14 - 2/2/14

2/2/14 - 2/9/14

2/9/14 - 2/16/14

2/16/14 - 2/23/14

2/23/14 - 3/2/14

3/2/14 - 3/9/14

3/9/14 - 3/16/14

3/16/14 - 3/23/14

3/23/14 - 3/30/14

3/30/14 - 4/6/14

4/6/14 - 4/13/14

4/13/14 - 4/20/14

4/20/14 - 4/27/14

4/27/14 - 5/4/14

5/4/14 - 5/11/14

5/11/14 - 5/18/14

5/18/14 - 5/25/14

5/25/14 - 6/1/14

6/1/14 - 6/8/14

6/8/14 - 6/15/14

6/15/14 - 6/22/14

6/22/14 - 6/29/14

6/29/14 - 7/6/14

7/6/14 - 7/13/14

7/13/14 - 7/20/14

7/20/14 - 7/27/14

7/27/14 - 8/3/14

8/3/14 - 8/10/14

8/10/14 - 8/17/14

8/17/14 - 8/24/14

8/24/14 - 8/31/14

8/31/14 - 9/7/14

9/7/14 - 9/14/14

9/14/14 - 9/21/14

9/21/14 - 9/28/14

9/28/14 - 10/5/14

10/5/14 - 10/12/14

10/12/14 - 10/19/14

10/19/14 - 10/26/14

10/26/14 - 11/2/14

11/2/14 - 11/9/14

11/9/14 - 11/16/14

11/16/14 - 11/23/14

11/23/14 - 11/30/14

11/30/14 - 12/7/14

12/7/14 - 12/14/14

12/14/14 - 12/21/14

12/21/14 - 12/28/14

12/28/14 - 1/4/15

1/4/15 - 1/11/15

1/11/15 - 1/18/15

1/18/15 - 1/25/15

1/25/15 - 2/1/15

2/1/15 - 2/8/15

2/8/15 - 2/15/15

2/15/15 - 2/22/15

2/22/15 - 3/1/15

3/1/15 - 3/8/15

3/8/15 - 3/15/15

3/15/15 - 3/22/15

3/22/15 - 3/29/15

3/29/15 - 4/5/15

4/5/15 - 4/12/15

4/12/15 - 4/19/15

4/19/15 - 4/26/15

4/26/15 - 5/3/15

5/3/15 - 5/10/15

5/10/15 - 5/17/15

5/17/15 - 5/24/15

5/24/15 - 5/31/15

5/31/15 - 6/7/15

6/7/15 - 6/14/15

6/14/15 - 6/21/15

6/21/15 - 6/28/15

6/28/15 - 7/5/15

7/5/15 - 7/12/15

7/12/15 - 7/19/15

7/19/15 - 7/26/15

7/26/15 - 8/2/15

8/2/15 - 8/9/15

8/9/15 - 8/16/15

8/16/15 - 8/23/15

8/23/15 - 8/30/15

8/30/15 - 9/6/15

9/6/15 - 9/13/15

9/13/15 - 9/20/15

9/20/15 - 9/27/15

9/27/15 - 10/4/15

10/4/15 - 10/11/15

10/18/15 - 10/25/15

10/25/15 - 11/1/15

11/1/15 - 11/8/15

11/8/15 - 11/15/15

11/15/15 - 11/22/15

11/22/15 - 11/29/15

11/29/15 - 12/6/15

12/6/15 - 12/13/15

12/13/15 - 12/20/15

12/20/15 - 12/27/15

12/27/15 - 1/3/16

1/3/16 - 1/10/16

1/10/16 - 1/17/16

1/31/16 - 2/7/16

2/7/16 - 2/14/16

2/14/16 - 2/21/16

2/21/16 - 2/28/16

2/28/16 - 3/6/16

3/6/16 - 3/13/16

3/13/16 - 3/20/16

3/20/16 - 3/27/16

3/27/16 - 4/3/16

4/3/16 - 4/10/16

4/10/16 - 4/17/16

4/17/16 - 4/24/16

4/24/16 - 5/1/16

5/1/16 - 5/8/16

5/8/16 - 5/15/16

5/15/16 - 5/22/16

5/22/16 - 5/29/16

5/29/16 - 6/5/16

6/5/16 - 6/12/16

6/12/16 - 6/19/16

6/19/16 - 6/26/16

6/26/16 - 7/3/16

7/3/16 - 7/10/16

7/10/16 - 7/17/16

7/17/16 - 7/24/16

7/24/16 - 7/31/16

7/31/16 - 8/7/16

8/7/16 - 8/14/16

8/14/16 - 8/21/16

8/21/16 - 8/28/16

8/28/16 - 9/4/16

9/4/16 - 9/11/16

9/11/16 - 9/18/16

9/18/16 - 9/25/16

9/25/16 - 10/2/16

10/2/16 - 10/9/16

10/9/16 - 10/16/16

10/16/16 - 10/23/16

10/23/16 - 10/30/16

10/30/16 - 11/6/16

11/6/16 - 11/13/16

11/13/16 - 11/20/16

11/20/16 - 11/27/16

11/27/16 - 12/4/16

12/4/16 - 12/11/16

12/11/16 - 12/18/16

12/18/16 - 12/25/16

12/25/16 - 1/1/17

1/1/17 - 1/8/17

1/8/17 - 1/15/17

1/15/17 - 1/22/17

1/22/17 - 1/29/17

1/29/17 - 2/5/17

2/5/17 - 2/12/17

2/12/17 - 2/19/17

2/19/17 - 2/26/17

2/26/17 - 3/5/17

3/5/17 - 3/12/17

3/12/17 - 3/19/17

3/19/17 - 3/26/17

3/26/17 - 4/2/17

4/2/17 - 4/9/17

4/9/17 - 4/16/17

4/16/17 - 4/23/17

4/23/17 - 4/30/17

4/30/17 - 5/7/17

5/7/17 - 5/14/17

5/14/17 - 5/21/17

5/21/17 - 5/28/17

5/28/17 - 6/4/17

6/4/17 - 6/11/17

6/11/17 - 6/18/17

6/18/17 - 6/25/17

6/25/17 - 7/2/17

7/2/17 - 7/9/17

7/9/17 - 7/16/17

7/16/17 - 7/23/17

7/23/17 - 7/30/17

7/30/17 - 8/6/17

8/6/17 - 8/13/17

8/13/17 - 8/20/17

8/20/17 - 8/27/17

8/27/17 - 9/3/17

9/3/17 - 9/10/17

9/10/17 - 9/17/17

9/17/17 - 9/24/17

9/24/17 - 10/1/17

10/1/17 - 10/8/17

10/8/17 - 10/15/17

10/15/17 - 10/22/17

10/22/17 - 10/29/17

10/29/17 - 11/5/17

11/5/17 - 11/12/17

11/12/17 - 11/19/17

11/19/17 - 11/26/17

11/26/17 - 12/3/17

12/3/17 - 12/10/17

12/10/17 - 12/17/17

12/17/17 - 12/24/17

12/24/17 - 12/31/17

12/31/17 - 1/7/18

1/7/18 - 1/14/18

1/14/18 - 1/21/18

1/21/18 - 1/28/18

1/28/18 - 2/4/18

2/4/18 - 2/11/18

2/11/18 - 2/18/18

2/18/18 - 2/25/18

2/25/18 - 3/4/18

3/4/18 - 3/11/18

3/11/18 - 3/18/18

3/18/18 - 3/25/18

3/25/18 - 4/1/18

4/1/18 - 4/8/18

4/8/18 - 4/15/18

4/15/18 - 4/22/18

4/22/18 - 4/29/18

4/29/18 - 5/6/18

5/6/18 - 5/13/18

5/13/18 - 5/20/18

5/20/18 - 5/27/18

5/27/18 - 6/3/18

6/3/18 - 6/10/18

6/10/18 - 6/17/18

6/17/18 - 6/24/18

6/24/18 - 7/1/18

7/1/18 - 7/8/18

7/8/18 - 7/15/18

7/15/18 - 7/22/18

7/22/18 - 7/29/18

7/29/18 - 8/5/18

8/5/18 - 8/12/18

8/12/18 - 8/19/18

8/19/18 - 8/26/18

8/26/18 - 9/2/18

9/2/18 - 9/9/18

9/9/18 - 9/16/18

9/16/18 - 9/23/18

9/23/18 - 9/30/18

9/30/18 - 10/7/18

10/7/18 - 10/14/18

10/14/18 - 10/21/18

10/21/18 - 10/28/18

10/28/18 - 11/4/18

11/4/18 - 11/11/18

11/11/18 - 11/18/18