A Non-Presence Presence that is a Presence
Wednesday, April 24, 2024
| Niña & Niño
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Every day seems to be much like the day before these days.
Rosemary and I used to enjoy our breakfast in bed and we
often told each other that it was the best moment of the day. When I go up the
stairs with my breakfast tray I know that within minutes Niña will come in from
the garden followed by Niño about 30 minutes later. They just want to be with
me all the time. And it is the best moment of the day.
I look at them and I glory at how graceful they lie and
sleep and how they stare at me without blinking. Then the three of us settle
down, I remove my glasses and we fall asleep for a nap. Niño is on my right
side and my hand is on him. Niña is between my legs.
That it is the routine every day. By the afternoon, weather
permitting, Niño and I walk around the block using Rosemary’s route. I feel the
presence of something, someone. I don’t believe in ghosts but then?
I have been thinking about all the above and particularly the
Niño walk and bed with the two cats.
She is not there. But it seems that by not being there she
is there. As I walk Niño that non-presence of Rosemary is ever-present. Is she
there by not being there?
There is that old dictum that, “Absence makes the heart
fonder”.
With that feeling in me, I look at my cats and it seems that
the three of us are sharing that ever-present non-presence which is a presence
in itself. What do they know that I don’t know? Is this why they are
increasingly more affectionate?
When I open the closet I can see Rosemary’s shoes neatly
arrayed. Her feet were in them. When I look at the cats I know she stroked
them. Is this more of a connection than her lovely shoes? Joan Didion & her husband's shoes
Rosemary's Bird Dress - Essay Behind Framed Photograph
Tuesday, April 23, 2024
This blog, I am writing it today April 25, 2024, which I will
place in a date hole on April 23, is the first example of my present plan to
leave behind a record when I meet my soon-to-come-oblivion. I will put behind all the framed photographs and art on
my walls little explanatory essays. And of course my daughters already know what my mother used to say that a house was not a home until pictures were on the wall. To this I add that any picture that is framed is a picture saved.
Our granddaughter Rebecca came over on July 31, 2020 and
made up my Rosemary. Rosemary is wearing what we call the “bird dress”. We were
married on February 8 1968 and she was wearing the dress. We bought it in
Mexico City’s Zona Rosa. I remember that the shop was across the street from a
fashionable coffee shop called the Kineret. It remains to be seen if either of my granddaughters, if they marry, will they want to wear the bird dress?
The dress is intact. Somehow Rosemary was able to wear it
for the photograph. I am not sure if Rebecca took the photograph (my Fuji X-E3
was on a tripod) or I used the self-timer. Every time I look at this photograph
I either cry or almost cry. The next photograph of Rosemary is one that my
daughters will never see. She was dead on the bed and we were waiting
downstairs for the funeral people to show up. Since I am a photographer I knew
I had to do something. I went up. Niña, our female cat was asleep on her chest.
I took a photograph.
Les Wiseman - A Mentor Acknowledged & Thanked
Monday, April 22, 2024
| Les Wiseman - 1985
|
I often write here about the mentors of my life who were or have
been responsible for whatever success accrues to my name.
There were my grandmother, mother and father, Brothers of
Holy Cross in Austin, Texas, Ramón Xirau who taught me philosophy at Mexico
City College, Captain USN, Onofrio Salvia, Argentine artist Juan Manuel Sánchez who compelled me to read
Thomas Mann’s Magic Mountain in Spanish, and said I was an artist, my wife Rosemary, two art directors at
Vancouver Magazine, Rick Staehling and Chris Dahl who forced me to take
photographs beyond what I was comfortable doing, Vancouver Magazine editor
Malcolm Parry who told me I had to write (it became a cover article) besides taking photographs and quite a
few more.
And writer John Lekich gave me a little trick I use all the
time. He said, "Whatever you put in your first paragraph, do so in your last.”
There was one mentor that is becoming more and more obvious
these days of reflection with two cats on top of me while I stare at the
ceiling on my bed.
This is writer Les Wiseman who now lives near the Victoria,
BC airport. I had a chat with him on the phone yesterday Sunday (almost two hours) and
that cemented in me that I have to make known to whoever might read this how
important he was in my life.
My journey to meet Wiseman (it was in 1978) really began in
a Mexico City high school for rich American kids. One day they asked me, “Mr. Hayward
what do you think of Alice Cooper?” My answer was, “I don’t know. Who is she?”
Once Wiseman convinced Malcolm Parry that his magazine
should have a rock column I was dispatched to take photographs for what Wiseman
wrote about.
From him I learned:
He gave me advice that began, “As your attorney…” How was I
to know that he was using a phrase of one Hunter S. Thompson? How was I to know
that by saying I was his Lenso the Argentinian lensman that he was equating me
to Thompson’s Ralph Steadman?
Wiseman told me, “If you are going to listen to one heavy
metal band it has to be Motorhead." With the band, during a very early morning
interview at their hotel, the band and Wiseman drank screwdrivers without orange
juice. I did not imbibe.
Such was the enormous credibility for his talent in writing
about rock music that we were given instant access back stage to bands where
even our city newspaper photographers had to content themselves in shooting on
the concert floor. Because of Wiseman we had access to The Police three times.
One day Wiseman, having some sort of conflict (I never asked),
called me up and said, “Alex let’s go tonight to Boston Bar and come back on
the next day.” My Rosemary, who was much more understanding than I was, told
me, “You go.” And we did. In our trip there and back we only listened to Lou
Reed tapes. It was in that trip that I fell in love with Reed’s Caroline Says.
We bonded in my Italian Fiat X-19 which cooperated by not breaking down.
When I started writing Wiseman gave me this advice:
"Unless you are Charles Dickens you never begin in the beginning.
You start in the middle and work both ways."
"If you are writing about something you do not know anything
about, do research and ask an expert."
"If you want to write a profile on a person, look for quotes
from family, friends, journalists, etc. Place the papers on your floor in many
piles and start mixing them without too much order."
One of my best friends is famous animator (classical style
as even now he uses no computer) Marv Newland. When I first met him at
Vancouver Magazine around 1979 he never gave me any attention. That changed
when Wiseman had the idea of using a local rock band (the Subhumans) as a
Christmas themed rock column with an elaborate photograph I had to take.These Christmas themed rock columns became well known and I
shot some of my most complicated photographs. We did everything possible to
make them spectacular. I immediately learned that a photograph without any written copy meant nothing. It was our collaboration that gave me a purpose.
I have no idea whose idea it was (Wiseman’s or Parry’s?) to
drive around Howe Sound and write about it. This was not rock and in the light
of day (not in dark backstage sessions at the Commodore Ballroom) but somehow
Wiseman proved he could write about anything and do it well.
Besides all the advice he gave me it was working with him
that gave me an insight on how he wrote. I was always present at his
interviews. Then I would see the finished product inside a magazine a month later.
Besides Vancouver Magazine, Wiseman worked for others. One,
that we both collaborated, for was TV
Guide. I would state here that he made even that magazine a literary one.
My journey into appreciation of rock and roll I can
pinpoint to the assignment I received to take photographs of live bands when
Vancouver was infamous for having clubs that played canned disco. One of the
joints I had to go to was called the Smilin’Buddha. I had read several articles
in the Vancouver Sun about policemen being called to stop riots and violence
there.
I arrived and I passed past the huge doorman/bouncer Igor. I was in fear for my equipment.
On the stage was a band called the K-Tels fronted by a guitarist called Art
Bergmann. Within a few minutes I put my camera bag at a corner and I started
jumping up and down (it was called the pogo) with the rest of the fans. Since
that evening in 1979 Art Bergman and I have been friends and from him I
understand that he is proof that Vancouver does have people who are passionate
in what they do.
And yes Wiseman was and is passionate in what he does. P.D. From Wiseman I heard the term ecdydiasts . And yes we were both fans. We even convince Parry at Vancouver Magazine that would do an article, a cover it was, on them based on the money that passed hands. Wiseman also wrote a variant of the article for a local business magazine called Equity. The title of the piece was, "Sex Sells".
Guess What?
Sunday, April 21, 2024
| Rosa sericea ssp. omeiensis var. pteracantha 21 April 2024
|
When I entered my oficina it was cold. It seems that after
about 7 years my electric heater is not working. I thought to myself, “It could
have waited a couple of weeks before it met its electrical maker.”
I went to see a film today at the VanCity Theatre friend, A
Matter of Life and Death with David Niven, Kim Hunter and Raymond Massey.
I went home with the melancholic idea of having to go to perhaps
London Drugs to buy my heater. It was and is sunny so I inspected my leafing roses
and I noticed (ugh!) some black spot. I took out my spray bottle that contains
water and copper sulphate and sprayed them. I went to my lane garden and
uncharacteristically as this rose blooms on May 1 it had two blooms!
It cheered my up. I have scanned them and written this blog.
This means that I can go to London Drugs with a smile on my face and buy the
heater.
But there is always a tad of melancholy in me when I
notice something wonderful in the garden. In yesteryear, before December 9,
2020, I would have run up to Rosemary on her bed and said, “Rosemary, guess
what?”
A Birthday Remembered & Justified
Friday, April 19, 2024
| Rosemary in Venice 2021
| | Anemone coronaria 'Carmel Pastel Mix' - 19 April 2024
|
In my years as a magazine (etc) photographer in Vancouver
the most important consideration I ever had when I was about to take a
photograph was the word justification.
This meant that I had to have a good reason for taking
the photograph and the methodology behind it.
Today is Rosemary’s birthday. She was born April 19 1944.
This date has always been one I cannot forget as my Arrgentine birth
certificate states I was born April 18, 1943. That is nonsense as I was born on
August 31, 1942.
Rosemary and my daughters always made the joke that I
liked to celebrate both my birthdays.
Today is Rosemary’s birthday. I feel compelled to write
this blog. My youngest daughter Hilary said I did not have to write anything.
Yesterday she and I went to see a wonderful one-woman
play based on Joan Didion’s book The
Year of Magical Thinking.
I have embedded in my head that she said in an interview
to the New York Times:
“I write entirely
to find out what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, what I see and what it
means. What I want and what I fear.”
This makes it obvious that I have to figure out how I am
handling a beautiful sunny day with my Rosemary.
And so I will bring that word, justification, here again.
My patio had this very nice pot of Anemone coronaria ‘Carmel
Pastel Mix’. Rosemary adored Anemone blanda. In my scan records I have no
Anemone coronaria. I know she would have loved these. I also know she would
have been upset if I had snipped them for today’s scanning. She is not here. In
her memory I look at these Anemones and while I miss her intensely I smile just
a tad. | Rosemary with her Anemone blanda August 2020
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