When
we are children, at just two feet tall, for many of us the enormity of our
surroundings is magical and amazing (Just return to your grade school
playground’s monkey bars and you will get the picture). We not only dream big
but we are fascinated by something as simple as a sun flare through an old
window. We are intrigued by the role ants play with building a hill and
protecting their queen or how an astronaut survives in outer space. As we get
older, life becomes familiar; we even become desensitized to our potential by
our mundane jobs and the biased mainstream media.
I
first traveled to India in 2009 to photograph a Haitian and Indian fusion
wedding. My curiosity kept me shooting there for three weeks in Tamil Nadu.
Although the wedding was the impetus for my initial voyage to India, when I
returned to Atlanta, I felt as if I had barely scratched the surface of some
sort of cultural understanding. I was determined to go back one day more
educated, prepared and mobile. I was burning inside to communicate more clearly
with the people and to connect with them. Alas, two years later I was given an
opportunity to return to the country. There was a big learning curve that I
needed to overcome and my preparation made the encounters so much more
valuable. My photography would become secondary to my understanding.
Honoring
my former Indian clients and learning more by immersion, I headed to India
again in 2011 for a month to explore Gujarat, Rajasthan, New Delhi and
Kerala. I left my wife and family behind during one of our most cherished
holidays spent together: Thanksgiving. Instead of staying in a hotel, I opted
to practice my participant observation techniques by rooming at the home of my
clients’ grandparents in Vadodara. Becoming an intimate part of my host family’s
daily lives allowed me to witness the religious practices and customs of a
traditional Hindu family. After gaining a level of trust, I asked the children
in the home to translate useful phrases into Hindi. I insisted on helping with
chores and aiding in the preparation of meals. I was a guest but I wanted to
pull my weight and show my appreciation for this gift of hospitality.
To
the concern of everyone in the home, I went running every morning around the
neighborhood (I was still on a high from completing the NYC Marathon 2 weeks
earlier.) I figured out why after my first trek because I was chased by a pack
of dogs, almost run over by a herd of cows, and I was asked by locals if
someone had robbed me! Initially, I left my camera on these runs so that I
could do field research, but there were blank stares by pedestrians as I made
my way up a crowded street. I was obviously not blending in at all. On my
second run, my airways became so clogged with smog that I resorted to wearing a
scarf around my face. This time, no one noticed me. After my third trek, I
decided to start walking fast rather than running slow. An aunt of the host
family gave me a large stick to encourage balance and protection. By the end of
the week, her husband allowed me to join him on his scooter ride to get milk.
As he drove, we bobbed up and down hitting potholes; cheerfully I sat facing
backwards to shoot interesting compositions.
I
incorporated a child-like freshness into my shooting vantage points by sitting
on a curb or lying in the street. I even sat on broken bus stop bench stoops to
get down to the two foot level of my youth. This is where the power of
perspective occurred. I wanted to bottle up the vastness of my environment and
to capture my curiosity in each exposure taken by my camera. I carefully chose
the moments I froze. It was all about me becoming small again. Truly, I
felt like the reincarnation of my 80’s boyhood ritual - peering out of my
bedroom window watching the world simply exist.
My India Exhibition will be opening next week on November 2nd at our new Gallery Space! RSVP here: info@rossoscarknight.com
My India Exhibition will be opening next week on November 2nd at our new Gallery Space! RSVP here: info@rossoscarknight.com
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