Quick note: Vienna

We're still in Vienna, enjoying the end of our whirlwind adventure. Two days of touring, museums, gardens, palaces, the opera house etc. We return tonight on the last train back to Budapest. The weather has been beautiful here and the food has been amazing. Jenna has been a wonderful friend, room&travel-mate and an invaluable navigator plotting our course throughout the city on various maps while I looked to the skies for picture opportunities. Take a peek at some of the wonderful art that we experienced first hand on our adventure (Gustav Klimt and Egon Schiele).

Terror

A wonderful way to appreciate life and how privileged we really are is to step outside of routine and learn about the world and our human history. The Terror Museum is one of the must-see experiences of Budapest. Once inside you begin to understand the nature of what the people of this country have been through during the time of occupation by the Nazi's and the Soviets. The culture of terror that the region lived with until the early 1990s is heartbreaking. I only have a short time to write now, but will update this posting as I'd like to include some of the history I learned. There is one image attached taken from outside of the museum (the walls are lined with images of people victimized). The four images from the interior are 1) Photographs of victims wrapping the walls up 4 floors 2) A labyrinth of blocks of pig fat 3) An installation of a carpet/map with artifacts from each region floating atop 4) The "churches" room a large marble crucifix embedded in the floor.






Completely unrelated to this exhibit...Tonight the gang goes to an opening organized by Beata for the past artists who have done this residency and tomorrow morning Jenna and I will travel by train to Vienna for two days (I will not update until I get back from our short excursion).

If you have any interest in looking at very powerful artwork made in response to some of the atrocities of human history, look at the work of French photographer and installation artist, Christian Boltanski.

All the happy people

It has been a strange and wonderful day. Wonderful for being lucky enough to wake up early enough to see (and shoot in) the brilliant morning light and strange because upon my return to the hotel the "vibe" (for lack of a better word) had changed. It is hard to explain the phenomena of a vibe. Perhaps it is an introspective mood or sensitivity to the world around you, or perhaps it is something unseen in the air that wafts from place to place to wrap itself around unsuspecting souls as they get lost in the fog of impending emotional limbo. For today, I think that focusing inward seems to be a potential culprit. Outside ourselves, so much adventure awaits. A word of wisdom from Chucku, "the one thing all happy people have in common is that they are grateful." Today I hope you can be grateful and happy for something or someone. Life can change so unexpectedly, it is good to appreciate what we have while it's here. If you have nothing else to be grateful for, be happy for this: that you're not a dead, stuffed, and on display.

Sun, Rain and Other Things of some or no Consequence

On the worst of days, when the heat is visible and you awake to a large oven you call a bedroom, your skin feels as if someone has poured sugar water all over you and let it dry. On these days, be sure that the clouds will roll in completely unexpectedly, the lightning will sharpen the sky and the rain will wash away all the hot day brought and leave a cool sweet-smelling night. The light changes so subtly throughout the day that the overcast sky is always a welcome sight and then afterwards the streets are cool and the people are back at play, filling sidewalk cafes and pubs alike.

It is hard to sleep, each day begins with us waking to the heat of our bedroom after the sun hits the windows, almost as a group, we trickle up to the 7th floor (the ladies are staying on the 5th floor and the guys are on the 6th floor). Almost every day the ladies eat breakfast together and on most days we'll see one or two of the guys come in and eat as well. Afterwards, we all begin our work - Odette and I run out to shoot, Jenna begins her studio work and I'm not really sure what our male counterparts do with the day, but I'm sure they're just as busy as we are. By about midday (if I haven't lost my mind and decided to run around and have heat stroke), we return to visit galleries, museums or get research done. Then again by the evening, before the light is gone, I shoot again and come back to see what my roommates are up to for dinner. Often we bring some snacks to eat in the room. Tonight Jenna and I went for food and were drowned by smoke and heavy cologne scent. Everyone smokes. Smoking may actually be an unofficial national pasttime. J pointed out that perhaps we should carry out cards with Hungarian translations saying something like "It is 2008, much research has been done about smoking and here it is..." I'm in full agreement. The later the night gets, the more we wake up and I find myself out past midnight nearly every day (it is 1am now).

We've also found a few hangouts...Kiado Kocsma - a pub just down the block from our hotel is marvelous, the people are friendly and the food and drink are good (the lemonade especially as it is a bit of an odd mix of lemons, oranges and soda water). Did I mention that this is also our free wi-fi spot, so we all come here (I'm here now) to use the internet and work a bit out of our room. Our two friends who work here are Dane (a painter) and Otto (it could be spelled "Attil" who is active in bike messenger racing)...Also, "John's Bar," a little bar in the lobby of the hotel, where a man named John hangs out. John, originally from England, moved to Hungary some 13+ years ago and now teaches English here. We see him nearly every day in the bar, so we've dubbed it his. He is a wonderfully witty human being and we've all enjoyed his company and friendship. I can highly recommend both of these venues if you ever come to visit Budapest - if you're in John's Bar, you may also run into Gina and Atilla, who are lovely as well. The hotel/apt we're in is aesthetically very simple, but is comfortable and the location is quite wonderful. You can visit the hotel's website: Hotel Medosz

Lions, Bridges and Tunnels

When I was a child I had a recurring dream, I would walk out of my backyard and down a
steep hill to the riverbank. Once there I would see cobblestone walkways, bridges and statues of giant stone lions. The dream always started just before the sun would set and I knew that as soon as the sun would set the lion statues would come to life and gobble up anyone by the riverside up. I would always head home just a bit too late and end up running and fighting for my life through a long tunnel for the remainder of the dream.

Budapest is filled with lion statues. Everywhere I turn, giant lions in bronze and stone. At both ends of the chain bridge, (the bridge that connects Pest to the Buda side and the royal palace) giant lion statues that resemble the exact ones from my dream guard the path. On the Buda side, under the royal palace, is a long tunnel. The first time I encountered them was right before sunset. I paused long enough to remember the dream/nightmare and quite bravely (only looking back once or twice) kept walking.

Offensively Hot

The image was taken at Hero Square at night.

The spot is beautiful during the day, but, well...

you can see that at night, it is breathtaking.

Today was offensively hot (I've heard it was 107 in the Valley in CA also) - shall we blame it on global warming? I went in the morning to drop off some film but somehow lost all good sense and ended up outside all day without a hat. Even after drinking MASSES of water and wondering if I would singlehandedly deplete the world supply, I found myself dehydrated and with a throbbing heat induced headache. I did see the incredible parliament building, in front of which I was tempted to run in the sprinklers, but I thought better of it (as there were men w/ guns everywhere). The city is so beautiful and alive. I still haven't completely formed the way I want to describe the experience to you. There is still some lingering need of re-acclimating into my own skin. So, on I push, melting slowly under the Hungarian-sun.

Random Images and Getting Lost

I'm including some random pictures for you to enjoy…dog with pacifier, underwater kiss (taken from a basement disco that is beneath a shallow pool of water), Howard, Jenna et moi (boarding a streetcar), Andreas, Jenna, Benjamin, Gregory, et (night out for dinner and a walk), and the image of the beetle that visited my face.

It has been exceedingly hot and sticky weather and we are all busy thinking about our work (and sweating). Last night was a city wide party wherein all the galleries and museums were open and had programs including music, performance, video/sound art and food/drink. The contemporary art museum was particularly lovely as was the view from atop the palace. I've been "getting lost" and shooting with the Yashica and the compact digital along with a new/old Soviet-Russian plastic camera called the Chajka ($6 with leather case).

The idea of "getting lost" is an interesting one. To be able to walk in no particular direction, only a direction that you have never gone. How easy it is to get caught in a routine, to go down the same road every day, to be trapped in auto-pilot. Getting lost allows for the briefest instant of being present and aware of everything around you, searching for some marker, some visual cue that will make a good image. When I initially set out for this sort of adventure I find myself disoriented and a bit uncomfortable. It takes a few moments to remember the intent and need to force myself to open up to interaction with total strangers again. Once I am thick in the picture making, the experience is much like "coming home." Tonight I wandered to the train station and met a man from India, a young Hungarian punk girl, a college student, and a Romanian gypsy. With these interactions I was, for all intents and purposes, found again. (Although that last bit sounds like I'm going to break into "Amazing Grace" - no worries, I won't).

The Old Synagogue

Friday I visited the old Dohany Street Synagogue. Built in 1851 (according to my guide, 1854 in other sources) and eventually reconstructed 1991-1997 the synagogue holds 3000 people during the high holidays (and usually up to 6000 can be present). During WWII there were over 800,000 Jews living in Hungary, after the war 600,000 of them had been killed, I write this to you matter-of-factly and hope it reaches you on a deeper level as I am always in awe of how easy it is to be dismissive of the great human tragedies. In the temple there was a mass grave of over 300 bodies covered with a small spattering of marked headstones. The reason the synagogue still stands today goes back to the story of when the gestapo set up their headquarters in the second balcony tier during the war, because of this strange occupation, the Germans never bombed the building and because the Jews also occupied the building the Allied forces did not bomb it either....It is so hard to comprehend the massive nature of annihilation that took place during the second world war (any war for that matter). It is hard to understand why we still do these things to eachother, why genocide is still tolerated in the world and why we continue hold onto prejudice against another human being, when all we really have is eachother. There is not much more I am able to say about this, as words do not do the moments I experienced justice.

Slowing down

The weather heated up this morning and at 8:30am the heat in the room felt like we’d slept through the afternoon. The girls spent the day together, including a lovely photographic exhibit at the Museum of Fine Art called Soul and Body, including the works of Mapplethorpe, Kertesz, Bresson, Cunningham, Stieglitz, Cappa, Sherman, y mas.

Afterwards J and I took a swim at Szechenyi baths and walked back to meet O for a little gallery walk through our neighborhood. The city is lovely and there always seems like there is so much to do here. It is a very similar excitement to that of the capitols of Western Europe. Prices for everything imported are very high (and sometimes things are just high for no reason – at the baths a towel rental was 1600forint which is roughly $10) – much higher than in the west and it could be attributed to the deep socialism holding on as the tides shift to a capitalistic economy. I’ve found the most wonderful part of my days is just walking and meeting people I would never meet through my standard introduction “Can I take your picture?” I’ve come across people from the middle east – today I ran into three boys on a student visa from Iran and the other day it was a man on asylum from Iraq, he was glad to help me with my portrait and showed me his Iraqi press pass from the days he was a photographer. Now he works in a small falafel stand under an overpass, isn’t life strange how it can change in an instant. Some people are interested in knowing why I want to take their picture and others are more interested in whom I am and what I am doing here in Budapest.

I’ve found that when want to make work, I begin by collecting, then sorting the collection into what it wants to become. In this case I’m collecting on many levels, portraits, stories, quick finite moments and eventually I will find what is common to all these things or different and need to find out why. I think this is an act of problem creation, which is exciting.

I’ve surrounded myself with faces after getting proofs back from the lab (cost of processing and proofing $130 – 4 rolls 220, 2 rolls 120), the images seem so few from the work that was long and slow going. Shooting with the Yashica has forced me to slow down each time I make the photograph, to wait for the moment and to allow the subject of the photograph to “pause.” It is also interesting to me that this city has been here for so long and the people will be here in this time then gone. The document of the interaction will remain but then the interaction too will fade from memory and eventually the document will be gone as well. Barring any major natural disaster, the city will probably still be here when all those things have passed. I too pause in this instant and it is very much less frenetic than the pace I keep in Los Angeles, it is a luxury to do everything slowly – walk across town (1-2 hours, one way) instead of taking the trolley across town (5 min). It would be so convenient to jump on a bus or a trolley or the subway to arrive quickly at a destination, but then so much is missed. This is a true luxury as at home, even going to the market (that is 2 blocks away) involves getting in the car. So I leave you with the wish that you two are able to slow down today even for a moment.

Gogeh Sabz and other greenery

Also known as small sour (unripened) green plums. An essential part of springtime, to be eaten cool (or warm) with salt (or without)…I found them on a tree in the middle of the city, I quickly proceeded to gather up a handful and eat them. In other greenery news, guess what the group spotted (in a very busy downtown area) growing a few hundred feet from our apt? Take a look at the picture…incase you’re wondering, I didn’t gobble this up, but it is amusing what one can find when they look.

Meet the Gang

Last night Jenna arrived, (she and I are sharing a room) and in the morning we all awoke to rain and our orientation with Beata, her daughter, an artist and a horse archer (also named Beata) and the other artists. Although I had done a bit of research on the work of the other artists before I arrived at the residency, I was happy to meet such a down to earth and talented group of people. I’d like to introduce you to each of them and encourage you to go look at their work:

My roomies:
Odette – odetteengland.com (From London, originally from S.Australia)
Jenna – jennaspevack.com (from I heart NY)
The boys:
Andreas: myspace.com/andreaspapanastasiu (London, originally from Greece)
Gregory: gregoryeuclide.com (Minnesota)
Howard: iceboxminnesota.com (Minnesota – born in the same hospital as Bobby Dylan)
Benjamin: benjaminpage.net (Pasadena, California)

Afterwards, when all the clouds were gone and we were “sure” there would be no more rain, I trekked across town (this was a massive walk, if you’re from LA, then imagine walking from Santa Monica and Pacific, then east on any East/West street to where the 101 freeway crosses Sunset – in the rain) to see the Ludwig Museum (and a Simon Starling exhibit). Along the way, there was much picture making, getting caught in a rainstorm (soaked to the bone, no umbrella), and finding a wonderful indoor marketplace full of paprika stands, meats, strudel and embroidered items. At Ludwig I found Gregory and we both (apparently having lost our minds) decided to walk around the Buda side on the return and over the chain bridge. Along the looooonnnnngggg way home, we saw the university, stopped for drinks at the historic Gellert Hotel, saw the castle and enjoyed a brief stop at the uber cool Sofitel hotel on the Pest side. Take a look at some of the sites (see picts).

The two cities and the magic of three little words… “if you like”

Today (7/17) was a day of walking… and walking… and walking. I had to deal with a bit of a learning curve when adapting to layout of the city and finding everything. In the morning O and I met with Beata (the artist/teacher who runs the residency and the HMC) and she gave us the low-down on what to see and where to go.

Budapest is a city in two parts – the “Buda” side to the west, characterized by more residential areas and green rolling hillsides and the “Pest” side to the east, a bustling city center filled with historic buildings and commerce. The two sides of the city are separated by the Danube and then again re-connected by a series of bridges. Our residency is on the Pest side, very close to the city center. Our Hotel/Apartment is surrounded by internet cafés, supermarkets, shops, museums, and restaurants. Today, I crossed the divide between the two cities via the Erzsebet hid, a wide, white bridge that shook with the velocity of the crossing cars. Because acclimating after a long journey (see “31 hrs” rant) takes a bit of patience, I found myself standing on the Buda side not knowing what to take pictures of, yet wanting to take pictures of both the mundane and the sublime and everything in between.

I had wanted to work on a series of portraits with the Yashica, but wondered how I would bring myself to approach random strangers and ask “Could I take your picture?” (ok, I realize it is strange for me to make this “shy” comment, but refer back to the “31 hour “ entry and the part about not being acclimated) – so I just did it and asked someone “Could I take your picture?” and astonishingly, he said “if you like.” Thus began my amazement with the people and the place, with a simple phrase “if you like.” I spent the rest of the afternoon asking everyone who struck me in some way, either by making eye contact with me for just a bit too long, or someone who was totally unprepared in the midst of their labor so I could capture them without pretense.

To be allowed to take a portrait is altogether precious, there is a sense of vulnerability that is being offered to the camera, and to the photographer. To be allowed so willingly to take portraits of strangers on the streets where I am a stranger, both to the individual and to their country is even more special. For this I am very grateful for this day and the three magic words. The camera allowed me a dialogue into the culture and for a moment into the lives of people I would never ordinarily encounter. Some people inquired further asking where I was from and why I wanted to take their (them in particular) picture. One shopkeeper eating a peach offered me some fruit and a French tourist named Adrian asked if I could email him a copy of the photograph. For today at least, men were much easier to approach, especially men who were not used to being photographed; construction crews, security guards, people talking on their cell phones. The women were a bit more reserved (and perhaps self-aware), but again I found the women who were most a part of the city, rather than being “in” the city were more apt to acquiesce.

Quick Note

If you ever plan on coming to Hungary, either forget about contact with the outside world, or bring a cell phone with you that can take a sim card. It is impossible to purchase a phone unless you have a permanent address here; this is some sort of regulation. Yes, phone cards are available, but it is only easy to find a phone that will accept these cards when in the city center, once you wander out, you’re on your own. The good news is that internet cafes, although costly ($9USD/hr) are abundant and there are a few that you can find if you purchase a cup of coffee, you can have up to 2 hrs free service each day. Also, if you’re dreaming of white Christmas…I mean…an inexpensive holiday upon your arrival to eastern Europe, if you’re an American…think again. The dollar has depreciated in value so much and the cost of living here is quite high. Here’s a quick photo example: Kodak VC 120 film (160ISO), in LA: $4ish a roll; in Budapest $7ish a roll (and 400 ISO is $8ish a roll).

Some Vocabulary:
Yes: Igan
No: Nem
Thank you: Koszonom
Where is…?: Hol van…?
How are you?: Hogy van? (formal) Hogy vagy? (informal)

31 Hours

hrs 1-5
- 7am Pacific Standard Time (PST) to LAX
- 9:15am PST 7/15 on plane to Vancouver Int’l
- Although dead tired, the overwhelming stench urine from the toilets and the chattiness of group sitting behind me assisted me in staying awake and participate in “air tourism,” while listening to my happenstance-travel-companions’ discussion about what landmarks we were flying over. - Yosemite (half-dome, Yosemite falls) and Mt. Rainier



hrs 6-12
- 12-something arrive Vancouver Int’l.
Vancouver: 49deg 11.97min N, 123deg 10.9 min W, 7ft above sea level
Thinking of the movie “A River Ran Through It,” one really does run through the International terminal at Vancouver airport. A mixture of the beautiful outdoors and consumer driven duty-free shops, one can loose themselves in the 15 foot wall aquarium, sit by the river, or, relish the view from the windows to a lush green Canadian hill side. Another option for amusement (or stress) is to purchase a small bottle of water and two aa batteries at a cost $18 (Canadian dollars) – this pastime can be referred to as “throwing your money away” …did I mention that the rate is $1.08 US to $1 Canadian Dollar, that is correct, the Canadian currency is higher - next, the Peso.
- Meet and speak w/ couple from England (who have been together 46 years)
- 5:45pm PST on plane to London Heathrow


hrs 13-22
- Meet Gillian and Gavin from Ireland
(near Belfast) spend the whole 9+ hours w/ them (in the airplane)
- 9-ish am (London time – 7/16), Portraits & more airport security stuff and off to the next point of purgatory.
London: 51deg 28.46min N, 0deg 29.4W, 120 ft above sea level

hrs 23-27
- 11-ish am met Michael and Ali at Heathrow as we three sat on the floor in the center of terminal trying to get an internet connection behind a power box. This was certainly not appreciated behavior by the clerks at the upscale boutiques around us.
- 1:45 – Michael and I realize what time it is and I RUN across the terminal to the gate only to be the last one to enter the plane… then and wait – this brings to mind the phrase… “hurry, hurry and wait” –Airforce One was in the airport and half of runways needed to be shut down until the plane took off – so an extra 45 mins in the airplane before takeoff.

hrs 27-31
- 2pm – Sitting down on the plane next to Paul, a professor in Hungary, we had a lovely conversation. He noted that the most intimate conversations can be struck up with the person sitting next to you on an airplane, perhaps because we are aware of the limited nature of our correspondence. If more moments in life were this way, perhaps we’d be able to cut through the entire pretense we have with others and enjoy the depth and finality of the individuals we choose to share our time with. Both Paul and I were game for a personal conversation and were able to share some “secrets.” Is a secret something we hold onto because we’re ashamed? Why do some things have such a charge that we can’t find our way to saying them? I think the best secrets are those that yield something marvelous because of the keeping. Sometimes a secret is only a way to delay gratification of what we really want. Sometimes secrets are things we’re ashamed of or worried will hurt the ones we love. Why then if they could cause harm do we do these things? Perhaps it comes to human desire. Desire overwhelms our perceived habits and stability; desire pushes us to act upon something that must be kept a secret. Eventually the desire will push us either to unhappiness for having to give up the thing that creates the pleasure and or to chaos for having to embrace and publicize the forbidden. There are other secrets as well, the kinds that hurt us and keep us from acting, but eventually, even those secrets rise to the surface. As time treads roughly upon us, these secrets eventually become a quite smile or sadness -- just facts of our lifetimes, no longer imbued with the importance they once had.
- 5:40pm arrive in Budapest. I encountered a customs agent who apparently had his “personality” genes surgically removed. I watched him with the people infront of me in line and he would stare them down even when they’d walk away then fix his gaze on his next unfortunate victim in line.
- 7pm airport minibus service to the “hotel”
(en route) Budapest 47deg 28.3min N; 19deg 6.5min E, 401ft above sea level
- 7:30/8p arrive, get to room, meet Odette (one of the artists here and one of my roommates) and get in a quick walk and dinner in.
Total: 31 hours in transit

Marsupial Moments and Luggage Purgatory

Sometimes leaving is sad. We think about all we'll miss when we're no longer surrounded by the familiar faces and things, and want to cling onto them like a marsupial safe in its pouch. When I was a child (so I'm told), I often had marsupial moments. New experiences brought about instant pleads to "not go," and yet, once out of the pouch and experiencing distractions and adventures, I was hard-pressed to want to go back in. This morning, walking to the security check-in at LAX I found myself in a marsupial moment (that's "mm" in text language) and before it could fully take hold, it was gone with the unpacking of every electronic gadget and cord in my bag, my 50+ rolls of film and (of course) the cameras ( let us not forget the special experience of shoe x-ray). The emotion and intent of the moment changed so suddenly, all I had time for before the plane took off was to laugh while watching baggage falling off of the carrier's carts from my my window seat view.

If you ever wonder what happpens to lost luggage, I now know it goes into a state of purgatory, no one will see it once it has fallen off from its initial course, and the luggage sometimes can wait twenty or more minutes before it is visible again (that is only if it was "good" luggage). If the luggage was "bad" when it was in the state of luggage purgatory, it remains on the tarmac, ignored by all, driven past many a time, wondering if it will eventually be flattened by an airplane. I believe most luggage today have converted to the "good" ways and there are less and less instances of flattening as punishment.

As I sit typing at the kiosk in the beautiful Vancouver airport, I find myself wondering if my luggage has been naughty or nice.

letting go

Although the journey is approaching quickly, there is still so much uncertainty. One thing is for sure though, that I am already weary (if not "dying by the side of the road") from planning. A traveler can only plan so much for any journey and then there is the aspect of letting go, throwing your hands in the air and letting the ride take you where it will. Perhaps this is true of all journeys, be they literal or spiritual. Perhaps the road ahead will bring a bit of both.