Some Fell, Some Returned: The Horrors of War Forgotten

YININMADYEMI Thou didst let fall_.jpg

I envisage this memorial in Hyde Park to be a special and powerful place for contemplation and remembrance, a space for all our stories to be heard and recognised.

– Tony Albert, 2014

Because of my own family history, I have a fascination with what we generally call ‘war memorials’. I find that term problematic, however, because most memorials seem to glorify battles won or lost. So, when I come across a memorial that is very clearly an antiwar memorial, and directly seeks to honor the people who fought and died, then I am especially interested.

A few months back I discovered Yininmadyemi (Thou didst let fall), the memorial to Indigenous people who have served and died in Australia’s armed forces. This dramatic sculpture was created by Tony Albert, an artist who is now recognized as being one of the most significant creative forces in the country at this time.

This astonishing memorial consists of seven enormous bullets, four standing and three fallen. They are meant to represent both those who fell and those who survived in the many wars in which Indigenous people have fought. The artist was inspired by a story from his grandfather, an Australian soldier in World War II; a story that gives the seven bullets a much more personal meaning.

Tony’s grandfather was captured along with six of his comrades by Italian infantry forces. They were put on trial and sentenced to death. Three of these soldiers were shot before a senior officer put a stop to the executions. He ordered that, because the soldiers were under British command, they had to be sent to Germany as prisoners of war. The artist’s grandfather was among the four survivors.

In addition, the artist highlights the treatment of Aboriginal and Torres Strait islander service men and women on their return to Australia. While ‘white’ veterans were given grants of land in appreciation of their service, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander veterans were not. In fact they were still having their traditional lands stolen. It wasn’t until 1966 that Australia’s Indigenous peoples were even counted in the census as citizens.

I find this site moving and emotionally powerful; I am continually being drawn back to it. In these visits I see people posing in front of the bullets; I have even seen some climb on the memorial. In the many times I have visited this site, I have very rarely seen people read the information or dedication plaque alongside the memorial.

And, perhaps even more significantly, I have yet to see a single person sit or even appear to stand in ‘contemplation and remembrance’ as envisaged by the artist. Except for me that is.  While I would like to think that I am mistaken here, and that we all remember and think about war and its horrors in our own ways, I don’t think this is so. I believe that it is the forgetting of the costs of war that contribute to the ease with which our so-called leaders have lead us into what has now become a constant state of war.

There is a phrase that is used on every Memorial Day in the English speaking world and perhaps in other places too; it’s used every ANZAC day here in Australia, and at every ceremony connected with war and the dead of war: Lest We Forget.

Seems to me that we have forgotten: We do not remember; we do not contemplate the costs, the horrors, the damage that comes from war. It is my dream that memorials like this one will work to restore in us that capacity for remembrance.

Lest We Forget

 

Seeing: A Few Thoughts

In this post I want to highlight and discuss in a supportive manner an idea with which I do not agree. No, it’s not that I don’t agree with it; it’s more that it’s a little incomplete for a street photographer like me. But more on that later. I am going to recommend that all photographers take note of the ideas presented here and try to take them on board.

Recently I came across a great new (for me) word: conventionalization. I first saw this word in Dorothea Lange: A Life Beyond Limits, an extraordinary and highly recommended biography of this great artist. Anyway, the word was used in a section discussing ‘seeing’, and how Dorothea saw (excuse the pun) this ever so important aspect of photography.

First up, conventionalization is defined as:

the ‘art or act of making something conventional’. I guess we all know what conventional means, and there are a number of applications for the word, but here are a couple that apply most aptly to this discussion:

Conventional is defined as:

pertaining to convention or general agreement; established by general consent or accepted usage; arbitrarily determined; ordinary rather than different or original

Lange believed, as I do, that seeing is more than a physical process involving your eyes. She always said we use our brains to see with. Apparently Dorothea liked collecting quotes about seeing:

Seeing is more than a physiological phenomenon. We see not only with our eyes, but with all that we are and all that our culture is. The artist is a professional see-er

(I love that word see-er. Reminds me of the word seer. Maybe that’s a subject for some research eh?

And here is where our newly discovered word comes into the picture. I quote directly from the book here:

The worst enemy of seeing is conventionalization, Lange knew, and overcoming it requires vigilance. The more we see the ordinary, the less we notice because our expectations of what we will see overpowers actual observation, and because we hurry. Skilled seeing requires emptying the mind of false and clichéd responses.

So, what see think we see is not always what is really there; it’s what our brain infers is there from all our previous experience and any other preconceptions we have in our minds. Apparently the percentage of seeing that is actual and not inferred is quite small; some say as little as 10%.

The book makes a great statement that I think we all would agree with: ‘… a great photographer wants observers not to infer but to see anew.’ This is something we can all aspire too, even if we aren’t ‘great’.

Now, for Dorothea noticing detail was important, particularly in her Depression era work: her photos were used to illustrate reports to government, to publicize poverty and other social ills. (She is a wonderful example of how photography can make a difference, how it can bring about change and help people in practical as well as other ways.) According to the bio she once criticized one of her own photos by commenting:

‘That’s a passing glance. I know I didn’t
’t see it.’ She was rejecting a photo that held details she hadn’t conscioulsly noticed at the time she made the photo. Of course detail was important for the work she was doing, but it has to be said her eye for detail was extraordinary.

And this is where, on this issue at least, Dorothea and I part ways. Well, you know, it’s not really a parting of ways: her work and the kind of work I do are on the whole quite different. I value the details I see on a conscious level, of course. But equal, and sometimes more significant, to those details seen on that conscious level, are the things that are, if you like ‘unseen’. In other words, those details noticed only at some deeper level and only seen with the eyes later when the photos are reviewed on the computer screen or in the print form. (Here I should add that Dorothea’s work at this level shines bright too!)

Does this mean athat anything goes? That I don’t care if there are things in the photo that shouldn’t be there or that get in the way? Of course not. But, rather than trying to register every little detail with my rational and ‘thinking’ mind before I press the shutter, I try to allow my intuition, my unconscious mind, to see what is meant to be photographed and to ignore what is not meant to be.

I should point out here that so much of what Dorothea Lange did and said makes so much sense. And she is for me truly a role model, an inspiration and guide. She achieved so much with the rigorous discipline she imposed on herself. She could see on so many levels as I’ve said, that most of us can only dream of reaching anywhere near her level.

What fascinates me after reading so much about her and her work is this: I believe her street photography, where she did make photos in a more spontaneous and intuitive manner, was what really helped her hone her observational skills that really made masterpieces of so many of her images, including those more set up, ‘posed’ and carefully scrutinized. The Migrant Mother is a perfect example.

So, here’s my suggestion. Practice seeing. With a camera or without (both methods have their place), in whatever environment you find yourself in. Look closely at objects and people with your physical eye. Try to see beyond your own preconceptions and experiences. Try to see with what Zen Buddhism calls Shoshin, the Beginner’s Mind: it’s all new!

But, don’t let this seeing with the eyes and conscious mind take you too far away from that unconscious mind seeing that informs the more spontaneous style of street photography. Each can inform the other and seeing well on either of these levels will improve your seeing on the other.