The final prompt to start a blog involved requests for information on the show I hung at Ula Cafe on May 2. (It's still up. For directions and other info on Ula click here). And I really want to get these pictures out there for people who aren't in the vicinity of Jamaica Plain, because there's a "cause" involved, and while I'm usually not a very active "cause" kind of gal, this one is important to me.
My show at Ula, originally called "Police States," became an accidental benefit for cyclone relief in Burma. The two components of the show were taken from my photographs from Cuba and Burma, two nations ruled by oppressive governments. I called the Burma set "The Burmese Dreams Series." The very day I finished hammering the frames together and climbing the walls to hang Burmese Dreams, Cyclone Nargis hit Burma from the south, and demolished most of the landscapes that were in my photographs. I'm sure most of the people in those pictures are dead. So the show became about something entirely different from what I'd intended - it became about loss and tragedy, but also the preservation of what was once there.
This is a sampling of the Burmese Dreams Series. (The color doesn't transfer well - the originals are far more saturated - better representations on my Flickr page.) Consider buying one. It will stroke my ego, and more importantly all proceeds from sales go to the U.S. Campaign for Burma - a righteous organization which has been working for democracy in Burma for quite some time. They're priced at $120 for an 8x8 or 8x10 printed on archival matte paper. If that's steep for you, you can suggest a smaller price and I'll most likely say yes.
Just don't ask why they're blurry. They're supposed to be, okay?
4 comments:
What is that young man carrying in the first photograph? A suitcase? Or perhaps the largest cassette player in the world?
The second photograph reminds me of Louisiana. There's this rickety old house --actually, make that a shack -- that rest in the marshes around Lake Pontchartrain just outside New Orleans. You can't miss it when crossing the bridge. Every time I pass it I expect it to be gone. But it's still there, probably housing some old Creole woman, baking bread and making gumbo, waiting for the good Lord to summon her to the kingdom of Heaven.
I'm a lover of all things blurred.
wait so why are they blurry?
jk!
That penultimate one is lovely- can feel the warm breeze blowing those stalks of whatever-in-the-foreground.
Hi, Anonymous! Perhaps you missed the part where I said I sold these photographs to raise money for cyclone relief. I did not make any profits from these photos. Are you a photographer? I think those who trash-talk the creative work of others on the Internet should post links to their own creative work, and invite you to do so. Show us all how you believe someone should "respect humanity" through your own art.
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