“What is truth in photography?
It can be told
in a hundred different ways.”
- Sally Mann, American Photographer
A bit of
fun today.
I’ve been reading a lot lately about photojournalists
and their responsibility to the truth. After all, a photo of Rohingya refugees
fleeing Myanmar has to be just that – no flights of imagination. The image can
be moving, engaging, and provocative, but at the end of the day, it’s an image
of desperate people fleeing violence.
At the same
time, photographs can also tell stories that have nothing to do with the
circumstances of the original image. People looking at a photo can read into it
all manner of fanciful interpretations. I call this form of storytelling
‘fictional photography.’
And that’s
what I’m focusing on today.
For the
purposes of this blog posting, I am a teller of tall tales, not a
photojournalist. Below are six of my photographs. Under each is a piece of
micro-fiction inspired by that photograph, followed by a brief description of
the actual circumstances of the image.
Enjoy the
photos – and the stories!
“Timeless Tina”
Tina had
always been a special child. Very special, indeed. So special, in fact, that
when she turned two, her parents decided to keep her that age...forever. Not a
Terrible Two but a Timeless Two. The logistics were really quite simple: dress her
as a two-year-old; talk to her as a two-year-old; feed her as a two-year-old;
and, most important, confine her to a stroller as a two-year-old.
Her parents
told their friends they did it to preserve Tina’s innocence and to protect her
from life’s harsh realities. However, the truth was more self-serving: keeping Tina
forever two kept her parents forever thirty.
Immortality
– what a timeless concept!
The actual
picture: photographed in front of Sydney’s St Mary’s Cathedral, April, 2017. I
never did see the face of the person in the stroller.
“Don’t Talk to Me”
The
previous evening’s Mime Society annual dinner had been a challenge for Marcel.
He had hoped to win – finally – the Society’s prestigious “Ebony and Ivory Mime
Artist of the Year Award,” but it was not to be. He had spent days rehearsing
the silent gestures of his acceptance speech, but when Fleur LaTulippe won for
the third year in a row, he threw up his hands and fled the ballroom in tears. In
the bar next door, he quietly drank away his sorrows. The owner kicked
him out at 3 am, after which he stumbled to a nearby park and fell asleep – no snoring
– on a park bench. When the sun rose the next morning, Marcel awoke refreshed. He
stretched his arms and belched gloriously. It was time to break his silence.
The actual
picture: early morning at St. James’ Park, Toronto, June, 2017. And I love the
stripes!
“Red”
When Red
Wagon was born, she had been a disappointment to her long-haul trailer parents.
They had been expecting something a little more robust than Red, at the very
least something with double axles and more carrying capacity. After all, she
was expected to contribute to the family trucking business. New tires don’t pay
for themselves, don’t you know.
But Red was
a determined little thing, and she soon earned her special needs permit so she
could help people at the nearby seniors’ home.
What she
lacked in tonnage she made up for in kindness. After all, how do you measure
the capacity of a trailer’s soul?
The actual
picture: Trenton Farmers’ Market parking lot, October, 2015
“Earth Mother”
Lenore was
a patient soul, but she had tired of always being called “Earth Mother.” It was
annoying enough being expected to attend to the emotional needs of her husband,
but being on call to everyone else in her life as the problem-solver and human
fixer was onerous. Being grounded, she concluded, was not all it was cracked up
to be. So, at age 47, after years of ‘being there’ for everybody else, she
decided to emerge from the earth and assert herself as an independent woman who
was going to put her own needs first. Initially, this was a tentative process
and her face reflected her ambiguity. But the final outcome was never in doubt. She
would rise up, take charge of her life, and finally stand on her own two feet.
It might take a little longer to clean her nails, however...
The actual
picture: garden sculpture at Honey Pie Hives and Herbals, Prince Edward County,
May, 2015
“Model Behaviour”
Lance had
not signed on for this. He had no idea that his first major modelling
assignment at Lord & Taylor’s bargain basement was a ‘clothing optional’
gig. And when he objected to undressing, the other models bit his head off. But
his parents had raised him well. He knew that mannequins were only as
attractive as the clothes they wore.
And yet...he
was aware of how hot the other models looked in the buff. And he knew that
underneath his own clothes, he was just as chiselled as they were. Maybe it
wouldn’t hurt to take his clothes off...just this once...
The actual
picture: a display at The Bay, Yonge & Bloor, Toronto, February, 2015
“Heart Carvings...Heart Cravings”
Albert and Harold were never able to acknowledge the depth of their feelings for each other. After all, stone carvers in Edwardian London were a dour lot at the best of times. The two men spent their days in silence working on a sculpture for the new Palace of Industry. With infinite skill and patience, they carved the upper torsos of two noble labourers, Albert sculpting the man on the left and Harold sculpting the man on the right. Gradually, two magnificent men emerged from the stone. One day, Albert noticed the figure on the right looked like him, and Harold noticed the figure on the left looked like him. The two carvers glanced at each other, their eyes locking. The men teared up but remained silent. Unspoken messages were sent and received. And understood. And then they went back to work...
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