Eyes Front Eyes Down (Sydney Australia June 2016)

Street Photography on My Way to the Shops Today

I'm usually terrible when it comes to carrying my camera everywhere and all the time. I mean to say, I don't have it with me often enough. So, today we ran out of bread and bananas, and a clear and urgent call to replace and replenish supplies of these staples meant I had to head off to the shops, a ten minute bus ride away.

At first I thought, no I won't bother with my camera; after all oftentimes for me "chores" and street photography don't really mix that well. But, then, I had a real strong feeling that I should take it. So, I grabbed it and a spare battery and headed off ten minutes too early for the bus.

So, I strolled round the corner to the busstop. On the way, I was really attracted to the house on the corner opposite to the one we're looking after. I'd walked past it a heap of times, but today for some reason I thought I would make a couple of photographs of it. I know, I know. It's not what you might call classic street photography, but it is very much documentary I think. I mean, this is how people live today in this suburb. And in a lot of others too of course. Anyway, here's the house, or rather my photo of the house.

Storm Brewing Over Suburbia (Melbourne Australia June 2014)

A few years ago I gave myself a project I called Hometown Houses (you can see the collection on my website here) while we were living in Echuca on the Murray River in northern Victoria. Other commitments took over and I fell way short of my aspiration to walk every street of the town and to photograph all the houses that appealed to me or spoke to me. And then we left the town to embark on our current journey, so the project is kind of asleep or on hold, or paused. Stopped anyway.

But, today photographing this house, I had the brainwave. Why not start up the project again? Just this time it will be hometown in the sense of whatever town or suburb we happen to be living in. Well, okay, not such a brainwave, but I think it's a good idea nonetheless. I mean, suburban houses have a special appeal all their own.

They are where a large percentage of the population live (in this country and of course in many others). They so very often are a reflection of the society, the time they were built in, the occupants' individuality and preferences for how they want to live or what they think is important, and really are an important element of our society that cries out to be recorded. After all suburbia, like all things, is in a state of constant flux. New houses replace the old; new styles take over every so often. Yet at the same time, there are pockets where you will find houses of all eras side by side. Then again, in some suburbs you will find acres upon acres, miles upon miles, of identical houses or apartment blocks all built at the same time.

In any case, that's one of my new, or renewed projects, I'm going to work on. Today was a good day to take my camera out. I've reconnected with this project, but I also came home with a few photographs that fit more neatly within my humanist street photography practice. Like this one for example. This lady was waiting at the busstop to catch a bus going the other way. She just caught my attention. And we shared a moment!

At a Suburban Busstop (Melbourne Australia June 2014)

Oh, all those storm clouds. They looked like they were going to turn into rain, but they didn't. And that was a very good thing as at the other end I had to walk a few hundred meters to the shop. You will be happy to hear that we now have a pile of bread and a pile of bananas. So, we should be okay for a while even if the storm does come

Peace

PICK OF THE WEEK: Paradise Lost?

Market Shoppers in Bali (Ubud Indonesia March 2014)

We are moving on tomorrow. We leave Ubud in the morning to, we hope, a smaller and quieter part of the island of Bali. Today I made a photograph that, in some ways, speaks to me of how I see and feel about Ubud. So, I thought I would use it for this week's Pick and as a way to introduce some reflections on the town.

Some of you will remember that I wrote on first arriving that I had never experienced such intense traffic in any of my travels anywhere in the world. Well, sadly that impression remains strong: A small group of villages sewn together with narrow and extremely built up roads, crowded almost to the point of gridlock makes for noise almost beyond bearing, and dangerous conditions for drivers and pedestrians alike. But, it is the cause of such chaos that I want to talk about right now. And that cause? Shopping.

Yes, shopping. And of course for there to be shopping there needs to be shoppers. And, shoppers are what Ubud has in droves. Well, what is interesting is that it is now low season, so the droves aren't quite as huge as they might be. That is truly scary. If it is like it is now, what's it like in high season? To be honest, I can't imagine what it would be like and I do not want to be here to find out.

These shoppers come from all over the world to shop, to have massages, to do Yoga, to pose (and this posing is a whole other story I would love to get into but ...), to buy stuff they could buy at home and to generally spend, spend, spend. There is a madness for shopping here. Again, it is on a scale I have never seen before.

Shop after shop selling the same goods. Some stock very exclusive brands, some (most) selling the same tacky tourist kitsch as dozens of other shops. Then there is the Ubud market in which it is impossible to walk one meter without being offered something for sale and where to even cast an eye on an item invites a sales pitch that won't go away.

Don't get me wrong: I do not blame the local people for trying so hard to sell what they can. After all,what was once a rural village, is now a metropolis with its heart ripped out and replaced by very few other ways to earn a living than by selling things or services to tourists. No, it is the tourists who must wear the responsibility

Ubud is "known" as a romantic place, a place where weary people from "the west" with money can come and relax, find "spiritual" upliftment and generally enjoy the beauty of a tropical paradise at bargain basement prices (relative to what they'd pay "at home"). Whether it is a myth they've been sold, or whether people choose to believe all this so they can come and be "cool", and have a story to tell later, I don't know. For some, of course, the myth can become a kind of reality (and I don't mean to say their experiences are necessarily "real"): out there in the countryside there are exclusive "spas" and "retreats" where (for a price) "relaxation" can be bought and "beauty" experienced. But here in these streets full of shopping tourists pushing, shoving and strutting their way to the next place they can spend some money in, the reality is very different. Here there is noise, pollution, crowds, a maddening "vibe" that frazzles the mind and exhausts the body. And that's just for starters.

Strip all this crass and gross materialism away and there is life here of course. Beauty too, in the people and their homes, their temples, their daily rituals. Just as there is in any community really. But, the time cannot be too far away when the constant building, the ever increasing demand on infrastructure and the sheer number of cars, buses, bikes and tourists bent on self indulgence and shopping, brings the place to a point of paralysis, of breakdown.

I am not sad to be leaving Ubud, but I am sad for Ubud and its people. Sad for the loss of another unique place that has now become just like every other place. The destruction of paradise continues.

Peace to all

PS I accept my part in this tragedy. After all I came here as a "tourist", therefore I am adding to the demands being placed on this society and its infrastructure. I guess I have just been shocked by the scale of the destruction here. I like to think my impact is smaller, however: I do not shop beyond the necessities of life, I don't buy souvenirs, I see things. I am an artist and observer. I make street and documentary photographs that, I hope, provide something of a balanced view of what I see. Maybe that's my role too. I can only report what I see, feel and think. The rest is up to you.