I was directed to photographer Edward Kaprov's work recently, after I had given a talk on nineteenth century war photography and its impact on rising antiwar sentiments in 1860s Europe. Edward Kaprov has been getting noticed lately (featured in NYTimes, WARM panel, ARTE film). He is shown in this short film making photographs in the Ukraine of the war using glass plates and an 8x10 camera, developing them in his mobile darkroom (van). Roger Fenton did similar in Crimea about 170 years earlier; the echos are undeniable. Kaprov's interaction with people/place through his photographic approach is touching and about human connection, maintaining humanity in an atmosphere where life is so precarious. As powerful as his photographs are, it is this statement that caught me: "Politicians have invented new causes to justify violence. With the appearance of the first photographic evidence, humanity could no longer ignore the crimes perpetrated, but the wars did not stop. Those who caused it yesterday are condemning others today, to justify their violence tomorrow." Karpov's sentiments have been said before in different languages, in different ways, and continues to be relevant within what we see in and beyond Ukraine's borders, in Afghanistan, in Syria, in Sudan, and in Gaza. With innocent lives caught in the crossfire. Karpov is Russian born, Israeli based. The intersection where he is positioned is one I am far removed from, but the thought of it and his work has lingered with me these past weeks since being introduced to his images, and made all the more poignant as the ruthless Israel-Hamas war rages. The volatility of that situation leaves me with little hope at the moment, but hope is what emerges from Karpov's stark, gritty and deeply human photographs. For me personally, there are some people that he photographed and who are featured in the short film that give me hope. There are the faceless/nameless pathologists who carefully and respectfully record their observations, details of the state of the body they are tending to, dutifully noting evidence of possible causes of death. They do their work--that almost no one will even know about--with such tenderness. Clearly they know this is someone's child, parent, lover. Victim of war or other causes? Still unknown. Their invaluable work of maintaining dignity after death, and whose findings can bring solace to loved ones and justice to the deceased, can also lead to ethical dilemmas or moral distress for these care providers (which were explored artistically in a 2019 exhibit entitled "Beyond the Body"). That they care enough to do this work for strangers' loved ones, for (let's hope) justice and maybe even for prevention of future war crimes, reinforced my faith in humans. The other person that gives me hope is the young boy on his bike. Protected by an older brother (likely) and flanked by two faithful dogs, this young kid is so curious of Kaprov and his 8x10 monstrosity of a camera. He keeps wanting to see the upside down image on the camera's ground glass. It's certainly different than looking at pictures on a smart phone or TV screen. Or is it? There's a metaphor or poem in there about seeing the upside down image of an Ukraine that is in a sense turned upside down by this conflict...will the camera then make it turn right, meaning 'good'? Maybe it's an aporia instead of a metaphor. (sorry for the jargon.) That boy's curiosity. I really hope it gets nourished. Curiosity is what led Kaprov to make these photos, and it is this curiosity that, I think, keeps us humble and prevents us from being able to claim superiority over others. It can keep us from justifying the killing of 'others'. Susan Sontag said, "To paraphrase several sages [was she referencing Yogi Berra?]: Nobody can think and hit someone at the same time." Building on that idea with 'curiosity,' you can’t destroy something you’re curious about. Of course, I'm not the only one who has thought of curiosity in this way. In fact, if I've thought of it, most likely someone else has already given it far more thought than me. Indeed, most recently, that deep reflection and research has been done by Scott Shigeoka. That he describes curiosity "as a force for connection and transformation" really appeals to me. I see that potential also in photography. Shigeoka's interest in curiosity is what he sees as its potential to be used as a force for healing divided nations (e.g., his nation: the USA) and counteracting polarization. Now, I don't see that as being Kaprov's intention with these photograph, but there is potential in his photographs (and others) to support such outcomes when viewers allow their curiosity to take hold. Going back to the boy and his curiosity about the camera, we’ve probably all had a somewhat similar experience, being curious about what someone is photographing, or simply becoming curious about an image we’ve seen. If we could maintain that curiosity, or transfer it and hold it in our daily lives it could take us a long way towards connecting with people we might think we have nothing in common with. The boy’s curiosity about Kaprov's framing of a bombed building in the kids' neighbourhood can be seen as him (the boy) getting a new perspective on something that otherwise may have been taken for granted, somewhat like challenging assumptions. The boy's curiosity about what Kaprov thinks is worth photographing is like being able to see another person's perspective on an event or situation. This is curiosity and photography working together to build connections, to generate understanding. Most of us won't have an experience like that boy, thankfully, and instead become curious about a particular photograph, here or there, that grabs our attention and sparks our curiosity. It's hard to say how many images people see in a day, but given that some 95 million pictures and videos are uploaded to Instagram daily, it’s safe to say we see a lot of images. Not all of them can cause us to stop, think and delve deeper to satiate our curiosity. After all, we have lives to live (or defend). As it is, it has always been easy to dismiss photographs by looking away, turning the page, or, now, swiping our screens. But every now and then, a pictures catches our attention and stops us in our tracks. That's when we should lean in rather than swipe away. This is where Shigeoka’s ideas around curiosity might be helpful. Though not a visual theorist, I see in his simple DIVE acronym (which, arguably feeling a bit self help-y or clinical research-like) as having relevance for photography. These are still new and unfinished thoughts, but I can see ways that DIVE can take that spark of curiosity further. Roughly, DIVE breaks down into: Detach (or release yourself from your basic assumptions, and relearn), Intend (or what I like to think as be present, focus on being deliberate in learning about the pictured person(s), their humanity, no matter who they are/what they did), Value (search for common values, while also valuing the strengths that can come from diversity), and Embrace (embrace the challenges of relearning, the difficult reflections). Photographically, this can mean Detaching ourselves from visual tropes or interpretations that rely on harmful stereotypes. It can mean consciously unlearning the terrible legacy of oppressions, violences and shameful cliches created and perpetuated by photography. This requires Intention to see those who are/have been photographed as humans who are more than (stereotyped) surface appearances: we are all complex, fallible, with goals, values, and dignity. Which leads to the V: Values. Be it as a viewer or as a maker of images consider what your values are, such as fairness in interpretation or justice in terms of representation. And, finally, Embrace what you may encounter in this deeper dive be it in being challenged or being reassured by the photograph. You may not need something like DIVE to delve deeper below the surface of the photograph to satisfy your curiosity. It does give some helpful scaffolding or touchstones, but critical thinkers may already apply much of this. What appeals to me is the positive energy that's inherent in the term curiosity. It brings joy and excitement. Curiosity uplifts as it connects. Kaprov didn't have to go to Ukraine. He could have stayed in Israel where there is plenty oppressive & horrific to photograph. But with this project be built bridges to/from his personal intersection as an insider/outsider. He brought/renewed people's hope and reinforced their dignity by demonstrating that people (still) care. That ability to connect is a powerful and under-appreciated value of photography. Again, these are unfinished thoughts, and I'd love to hear yours on Kaprov's photography or my take on it and the idea of curiosity. But as it is, I am more convinced that curiosity is a powerful peace builder. Be curious. Build connections that can be transformative for a more peaceful word. Curiosity is a bright spark in dark times. https://www.arte.tv/en/videos/112731-000-A/arte-reportage/
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With Remembrance Day recently, with bloody conflict in Gaza raging, and with other violent conflicts ongoing around the world my thoughts have been returning to the concept (and state) of peace. In particular, I've been reconsidering the role (if any) photography can play in building and bolstering peace. Far from the only one who has contemplated this, I have been leaning much on the ideas and works of people such as Frank Möller, Ariella Azoulay and Edward Karpov]. Over the course of the next few posts I focus on their work and its influence on my thinking with and making of photographs. From the vantage point of this period in time and my considerable distance away from actual fighting, I diverge from their focus on photography in the midst or in the aftermath of violence conflict. Instead I've been thinking about what role photography can play in keeping the peace in a world where these seems to be increasingly more fragile. Motivated by Möller's twin questions--"how can photography represent peace and how can such representations contribute to peace?"--the additional question that has occupied my mind is, "how can photography support the maintenance of peace when threats to it begin to emerge?" With tensions mounting in the Middle East and in places much closer to home, is there a way photography can keep peace in the forefront of peoples' minds, build solidarity instead of divisions, and deescalate (and redirect) anger, frustration, hate? Thinking conceptually, I wonder if content is most important in this respect, or if it has more to do with the photographer's vantage point/aims, or with the viewer's ability/willingness to engage.
From Alexander Graham Bell to Retro Gamers: Uncovering Hamilton’s Forgotten Gaming History by Sonya de LaatGaming culture is alive and well in Hamilton today. On any given night, you’ll find enthusiastic players at gaming cafes along James Street or Concession Street. Shops abound in this city with role playing adventure games, board games and video games to entertain almost everyone. So, what does a random woman sitting in the middle of a McQuesten family photograph from 1903 have to do with today’s gaming culture? Whitehern Historic House & Garden belonged to the McQuesten family, who lived there over three generations from 1851-1968. Thousands of artifacts, including the family’s correspondence, furnishings, and personal belongings were included in the home when it was handed over to the City to become a museum, which opened in 1972. Among the archives are the family’s photographs, which museum staff use in ongoing research of the family and in public programming.
Most of the photographs in the collection are of immediate family, including the one pictured below. The photograph includes members of the McQuesten family sitting on the front steps of the densely vine-covered house. It includes, from left to right, Ruby, Uncle Calvin, Thomas, Hilda, Mary Baldwin, Margaret Edna and Mrs. Mary Baker McQuesten, the matriarch, seated in a wicker rocking chair. In the middle of this relaxing scene sits a mystery woman (with an oversized bow-tie). Who is the random lady in the middle of this McQuesten family? The photograph only identifies the woman as Miss Mewburn. In 2019 I was awarded the Caroline Miles Visiting Scholarship with the Ethox Centre at Oxford University. This was a very exciting opportunity for me, a recent post-doctoral student who had been working with the Humanitarian Health Ethics (HHE) research group after having completed my PhD in Media Studies. The scholarship was to go towards spending 4 weeks with this unit of bioethicists interested in all manner of global health-related topics. My plan was to work on developing a ethics framework exploring the ethical and practical dimensions of incorporating a unique type of community health workers to support palliative care in refugee camp settings. Particularly, the workers would be refugees themselves. The proposed work was building off R2HC funded research with the HHE exploring these same dimensions of palliative care in different humanitarian crisis settings. I'm happy to share the introduction to a two-part blog that emerged out of the CHA-CNHH panel presentation given in the spring: “Making Connections with the Public: Alternative Approaches to Learning History”, The Canadian Historical Association Annual Meeting; Sponsored by the Canadian Network on Humanitarian History, Online, 31 May 2021.
Humanitarian aid work—particularly healthcare and disaster response—necessarily requires focus on the present in order to respond to crises that are often acute or emergent. Sustained focus on the immediate has given the impression that the aid sector is ahistorical. Without historical perspective, aid workers run the risk of not responding appropriately or perpetuating injustices, thus harming those they are meant to help. There is, however, a growing interest by aid workers and organizations in history: of their practice and of affected populations. Historical perspectives can lead to more contextually and culturally relevant change that address root causes of the situation. Particularly in the current era of decolonization and anti-racism, learning different histories becomes almost a moral imperative for aid workers. Given this growing interest, how does one instill a sense of value in history on the part of the next generation of humanitarian and development aid professionals? This blog post emerged out of the recent CNHH panel part of the Canadian Historical Association conference held online in the spring. In response to the theme of public engagement, this is a look at how the 1965 National Film Board film, You Don’t Back Down, is employed in undergraduate global health ethics education. For many students who have their sights set on becoming healthcare providers in global disaster and crisis settings, it is also an introduction to histories of humanitarian and development aid work. For learners who are decidedly future focused, the aim of the ethics lesson is also to instil a respect for historical thinking and to incorporate it as a valued component their practice. In this, the first of a two-part blog, I begin with a brief contextualization of the ethics lessons, followed by a summary of the film and an overview of the classroom discussions. I conclude with a reflection on the value of historical thinking and incorporating visual histories in global health ethics education. See the full two-part blog here: https://cha-shc.ca/news/was-it-really-different-back-then-reflecting-on-current-global-health-ethics-with-a-nfb-film-about-cuso-1965-2021-08-24 For a number of years I've had the pleasure of volunteering at Westfield Heritage Village with my children. Along with contributing to my own learning of daily life of settler-colonials in early Canada in Southern Ontario, the volunteering is an opportunity to introduce visitors and volunteers to new ways of thinking about history. The following is a presentation I prepared for the annual Westfield volunteer workshop. It is a brief introduction to nineteenth century photography from technological and social perspectives. I hope you enjoy it.
As nation-wide lockdowns began to spread across the world in later winter 2020, critical reflection became all the more important to bring perspective to a situation that for the vast majority of there world was not something part of our living memory or personal experiences.
I had a great opportunity, as Academic Advisor in a Global Health program, to share my perspectives as a visual scholar and cultural historian on everyday people's reactions to past pandemics and global disease outbreaks. As a scholar of the moral and practical dimensions of humanitarian action, and of visual communication for humanitarianism, international development and global health, my interests gravitated towards issues of inequities and injustices, responsibility and resilience, and importantly, the role of visuals in augmenting or distracting from the voices of those most impacted by illness and disease. See and listen to my presentation here. Read an article for the Global Health Office about the presentation here, and learn more about the other presentations that were part of this Speakers Series: Expert Perspectives on COVID-19. In 2016, I had the immense pleasure of participating in the A Samaritan State Revisited conference in held at the Global Affairs Canada (GAC) offices in the Lester B Pearson Building in Ottawa, ON, Canada.
Taking it's name from Keith Spicer's (continually) influential text, A Samaritan State? External Aid in Canada's Foreign Policy, (1966), the symposium brought together a host of emerging and established scholars and practitioners together to reflect on the past 50 years, and beyond, of Canadian foreign aid, official and civil-society based. Organized in collaboration with GAC, and history departments at Bishop's and Carleton universities, the two days resulted in gathering the collection of essays reproduced in this volume, edited by Greg Donaghy and David Webster (2019). I really have to thank again Dr. Dominique Marshall, Carleton University, for introducing me to Greg, then head historian at GAC, and the amazing staff and former staff in the photo collection and communications department who made my contribution possible. Without their support, the GAC --or really the former CIDA photo collection--would have again remained un-represented. So often photography and visual culture gets displaced or overlooked, considered as irrelevant or superficial distractions from the main events (e.g., policy meetings, political debates). Recent critical histories of visual culture in the fields of human rights and humanitarian action challenge the view that pictures matter little. My chapter in this volume aims to broaden perceptions around the seemingly innocuous but vastly powerful role photography plays in the imagination and practice of development assistance. And the importance of taking a historical perspective, with respect to images and actions, in working towards a more equitable and just future. Overall this volume is a timely contribution to a growing scholarship on critical global histories of aid, and it is an overdue collection focusing specifically on Canadian development actions. Pick up you copy from the Calgary University Press today. Confronting Canadian Migration History is a collection of blog posts that existed as stand-alone posts on the Active History website recently. Edited by Daniel Ross, this diverse set of contributions speak to the complex relationship Canada has had with refugees and migrants. Given Canada's settler colonial origins, the fluctuating responses to newcomers or asylum seekers is both hypocritical and expected (though no less wrong). This collection of public history provides rich material with which to think about today's global experiences around forced migration, and once again demonstrates the valuable lens history provides in offering new perspectives on current events.
Visit this link to read a blog post by the ebook's editor, Daniel Ross. Or go directly to this link to access the book's download page. I've had the good fortune of being able to publish two small blog posts that challenge perceptions of Ebola Virus Disease. You can find them on the ELRHA website here:
How Can Cultural History of 'Health' Reduce Stigma? https://www.elrha.org/project-blog/how-can-cultural-history-of-health-change-disease-perception-reduce-stigma/ Television and Ebola: How televisions can change disease perception and reduce stigma https://www.elrha.org/project-blog/television-and-ebola/ I look forward to your comments and thoughts! |
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