The Hidden Costs

Much contemporary art is so esoteric as to leave the incognoscenti out in the cold. Much of what is au courant in the world of “art” photography currently is far less remarkable than the story behind the picture - which is often the story of the artist’s travails.

This narcissist tendency is perhaps natural in a time when real issues are so murky and insoluble, but the classical concept of art being about the world seems suddenly relevant and necessary. Art should move people, not just be a cascade of insider references. The development of the techniques of manipulating emotions comprises most of the history of art, till the time “art” became precisely the rejection of such techniques.

My work is about creating a sense of irony by utilizing these techniques to make compelling images that have layers of meaning based on contemporary issues.

But narratives are what we crave, the balm for awareness, the explanation of the unknown. As a story-teller, one wants to relate those stories, and this current exhibit at the UmweltBundesAmt (The German Environmental Agency) is just that. For the first time, we assemble maps and satellite views, detailed explanations of the pictures in German and English, and a set of graphic icons that represent the various impacts of the processes.

Assembling all of the components, an old desire, has been several years in the making. The exhibit was born at Natur Museum Südtirol in Bolzano, Italy, but the creation of this extensive appendix was beyond time or budget.
Ideally, the appendix would be web-based, so viewers could browse at any time. One even imagines using QR codes with each image to link directly as the viewer is experiencing the picture. But ushering smart devices into an exhibit is a gift from Pandora, and it’s nice to make it physical, and to separate information from image so viewers must first contemplate. Also nice is to credit the many people who make an exhibit happen, especially one so complex, from pilots to curators and translators.

View of "The Hidden Costs" exhibition at Umweltbundesamt

Heroes

One has many heroes throughout life which seem to increase in complexity with our edge.

My heroes now are those that risk life and comfort in the service of others. And since the environment is my life mission, my heroes tend to be those that have worked in that realm. The Russian photographer that knowingly sacrificed himself to document Chernobyl, Anatoly Rasskazov, Edward Snowden, who gave up a comfortable life to expose a grave wrong by his country, Bradley Manning who exposed an even greater wrong, and suffered even more.

In my work as an artist, working on the environment I have been lucky enough to photograph many of my personal heroes, and will launch a tribute to them with a series of social media posts.

Most of them have guided me on missions in the flesh or direction, and all of them have clarified my understanding with their knowledge and experience. In the interminable battle to save our life support systems from parties that would profit by disrupting them, these individuals stand very large. #HeroOfTheDay

Larry Gibson, mountain top removal activist

 

Larry's death a few years back is still being felt throughout the MTR activist community and beyond. He was a leader in the movement to end MTR and a good friend. He is deeply missed.

A Day in the Life of A Photographer

One of the things I love about my job is that I never have to do the same thing two days in a row. On any given day it can alternate from satisfying and frustrating to terrifying, and the next day will surely be different. This is not to complain, rather to confess that if I don't keep changing it up, I get bored with myself, then self-destructive.
And I have been very lucky to have two branches of my art for which I am so passionate: making portraits of some of the greatest artists and thinkers of our day, and then being feted for my own body of "artistic work" about a subject for which I care so deeply.

It's a real honor to be able to make portraits of these women and men who are the best in the world at what they do. What I want to show is that mixture of intelligence, ability, curiosity, tenacity, and luck that makes them unique.
I make pictures of environmental issues because I care so much and believe I can, with luck, tenacity, curiosity, and ability, bring a unique viewpoint to their urgency and ubiquity.
So I pursue these two branches of my craft with equal passion, which inform and enhance each other. The essence of photography is the capturing of the precise moment in time when subject, composition and lighting come together to make a magic picture, and then I just count myself lucky to be there with a working camera.

The World's Great Composers

as featured on the cover of Gramophone Magazine

The Real Reward

Among my working artist friends runs a common joke about the hardships of a career that forces one to sleep late, while away most of the morning drinking coffee and complaining about galleries, then spend a few hours attending to the mundane business of life, only to reconvene over some libations and resume the discussions. But in actual fact, the life of the artist is a burden: one works long hours for minimal remuneration in pursuit of some nebulous vision. Most of the time is spent alone, testing that definition of insanity which says the sane would not repeatedly try the same thing and expect a different result. And there is the humiliation of constantly needing to sell yourself. The only reason to be an artist is if you can't do something else.
Some few are lucky enough to get their reward monetarily, but for most the recompense comes from seeing others enjoy the fruits of the artist's frustrations.

An artist works with a chosen medium to express his or her vision, a process that usually involves a struggle between imperfect materials and over-exacting specification. And that is when the variables are within reach and controllable to some degree. To arrange an exhibit in a remote location, collaborating with an unfamiliar team, using unknown materials, can be an arduous process. In this situation, one can only pray to be lucky enough that the new team comprises exacting professionals, and the standardization of processes in the modern world will lead to an unexpected good result.

Such was the case with a recent exhibit in Bolzano Italy, and it was a great pleasure to finally travel there, meet the team, and see the result.

But the greatest reward was to see visitors, especially children, enjoying, and really contemplating the work. One of the most interesting aspects of the visual arts, perhaps more than any other form, is the Rorschach Effect: each visitor will take away something different. These pictures are about pollution, and straddle a line between abstract and literal, and even with captions that identify the subject, every viewer brings different preconceptions and opinions that will shape his or her impression. Thus children are the most interesting audience for me, and it was a great reward to see so many and that they were so captivated by the work.

The other great reward was meeting the team that produced and assembled the exhibit at the Museum Südtirol. So many thanks to Massimo and Vito for the great work.

---
Please check out my current exhibit: Abstraction of Consumption: A Dream of Plenty

The Gibbes Vote

Sometimes it takes a while for me to get the picture.

When the Gibbes Museum in Charleston announced a "People's Choice" exhibit, I happily completed their questionnaire about favorite artists and what not, and basically ignored their further requests for me to drum up the troops via the various "social" interfaces that seem to be the rage.

Only at the last minute, the day before Easter, did I finally read the email and understand that I needed to call the hearty to arms to vote for inclusion of my piece in the exhibit.

Mind you, I was on a little agriturismo, eating oranges and drinking Portuguese wine. In spite of the intermittent internet, I valiantly put down my drink (we were on to port by this point), and logged-on to the one and the other and begged my friends and connections to perform two clicks and vote for my piece (“Pig Shit” (alternately titled "Bacon" in politer circles)).
And it worked, proving that you can get your friends to cast a few clicks on your behalf on short notice. Or, maybe that your friends don't have any other lives than to be looking at social media the night before Easter.

Ironically, if one posts an urgent call for action about an arcane but vital environmental bill, we are much less likely to act.
Somehow the information overload makes me less able to respond and act on weighty citizenship issues, and more in search of divertimenti. Ironic that we all seem so preoccupied in our digital world, when the physical world cries out for our ministrations.

Song of the Earth in Weimar

In 1905, having just been expelled from his position as court composer in Vienna, discovering his heart failure, and grieving the loss of his daughter, Gustav Mahler put the poems of Hans Bethge to his signature sound, creating one of the great pieces of modern music, and musically anticipating the turmoil soon to engulf the world.

Multi-media projects in their best iterations magnify the good of each of the component media, just as Mahler's music enhances the words of Bethge. Das Lied von der Erde was created during the apocalyptic collision of the historic narratives of Europe. Juxtaposing lyrical images of the detritus of our consumption with Das Lied von Der Erde is a natural fit for the creation of a larger work to address these modern issues.

Creating a multi-media piece involves interweaving multiple narratives, which sometimes speak to each other, and otherwise tell their own stories. Here was an opportunity for my work to reach a completely new audience, one that was largely unexposed to this message about the looming disasters that face us, and our causal behavior.

So many times a magic idea needs just the one person that “gets it” and makes it happen, seemingly with the snap of the fingers. In this case, that person was Stefan Solyom, conductor of the Weimar Staatskapelle. Then arise the complexities of actually executing a simple idea. The visual animation of the Industrial Scars images was redacted by Joel Plotch, done with an old recording by Bruno Walter and the Vienna Philharmonic to set the meter, a recording Stefan and I had agreed was our favorite.

What a foolish assumption to think that all would go according to plan. The two soloists, of course, had their own interpretation of the proper tempo, and it did not match that of Bruno Walter. The tenor, Andreas Conrad, preferred a much faster rendition, and the soprano Tuija Knihtilä, slower. So there I was, dripping sweat in the dress rehearsal as my masterpiece seemed about to crash and burn. With a deep breath, the idea of continuously adjusting the video playback rate to keep time with the music was the obvious solution, albeit one requiring intense concentration, especially not being a German speaker.

Ultimately, the performance was breath-taking - the projection of Industrial Scars images in HD over the heads of the orchestra was a transformative experience (at least for me).

Branded at the Bienale

Venice is the city of commerce, of conspiracy, romance, and art. It is also one of the most picturesque and expensive cities in the world. Every second year, the Bienalle brings the world's most important contemporary art together in the Giardini, on the east side of the city, for exhibit. Each nation has a pavilion which represents their most unique, talented, or possibly beloved artists to the art cognoscenti.

The weather was perfect, warm, not too humid, with a lovely breeze blowing from the ocean. Alas I had but 36 hours there, which I started by taking a walk with the lovely and dynamic Marjorie Gordon in Piazza San Marco, where the renovation of the cathedral was in its final stages. The mosaics above the doors were breathtaking in their revealed beauty. One can only imagine the mastery of the artists that created them. The detail and textures rendered were unbelievable, and to see them freshly cleaned and shining in the morning sun (we were up before the crowds) was a revelatory experience. We then proceeded to Due Mori, a famous watering hole where Marjorie insisted we have a prosecco (at 8 in the morning).
Having done all of her art browsing before my arrival, she gave me a list of “must sees” and proceeded to the beach for a day of leisure. I rousted my good friend Dietrich Petzold, the renaissance man from Berlin, and we proceeded to the Bienalle.

Our first stop was the Swiss Pavilion, which was a tremendous assortment of smashed and obsolete consumer items, many wrapped in plastic, beginning with a plethora of mobile phones, proceeding to stacks of monitors and televisions, and so on.
Anyone who knows my work would know that the message of consumption and disposal is one of my most treasured themes. My criticism with what I saw was the apparent lack of craft involved here. Perhaps it's not possible to make something of beauty out of piles of consumer detritus, but in so doing, one would create an irony that becomes much more effective than piles of garbage emitting a miasma of ozonic sickliness.

Next was the German Pavilion, which celebrated the recently deceased Christoph Schlingensief, a filmmaker whose subject matter was the the rise of fascism in Germany, another extremely resonant subject, especially as this pernicious incursion of personal liberty is ascendant worldwide, especially in the USA. But here again, my feeling was the exhibit lacked subtlety. The main room was styled to resemble a church, with macabre decoration- and of course I don't speak the language, though I am a big fan of German film. So I left dissatisfied.
Shortly along we came upon the USA pavilion, which seemed to be focused on the addiction of our culture and economy to war- again, a reverberant theme for me, but... Outside was an upended tank with a workout treadmill on one of the treads- kind of cool, but really just a demonstration of what a conceptual artist can do when someone puts a few hundred thousand dollars in the hand. Where was the craft? Inside was a weapon-bearing statue of liberty lying down in a tanning machine, and a cash machine connected to a set of organ pipes. Is this the best art my country can produce?

By this time, I was being overwhelmed by the surfeit of Swatch logos. Of course, any venture in today's world must find sponsorship, thanks to the fascistic cutting of nationally supported arts (can't cut the military due to all those enemies of the state), but the headlong indulgence of our societies to be branded amounts to a theft of personality that I resent.
One of the other brandings was by Enel, the Italian energy producer (one wonders how much mercury and carbon dioxide they are putting into our environment). The other thing that struck me was the amount of trash being produced by the whole production (here was the irony lacking in the Swiss exhibit).
Everywhere one looked was branded garbage.
Alas I had made the decision not to carry a camera, having checked them at the airport before venturing into Venice.

We then ventured to the Arsenale section of the event, at an old warehouse building where weaponry and munitions were stored, and workers housed. My impression here was much the same as before, much gimmickery and reliance on the latest techno-philia, but very little craft and meaning.

For me, a true artist has mastered her chosen field such that it becomes secondary to what the artist has to say.
At the end of the Arsenale was a refreshing exception: a film titled "The Clock," by Christian Marclay, in which he had edited together segments of many films which followed the progression of real time, showing a watch here or clock there, in some the mention of a specific time: fantastic. Impossible to imagine the amount of research and editing involved. I did not watch but bit of it, assuming I would go back later and see the whole.

The other priority on Marjorie's list (that I had time to see) was the Palazzo Grassi, which contained a group exhibit of renowned living artists. What a relief, to see this collection of thoughtful, well-executed pieces. The highlight for me was Zhang Huan, the Chinese artist who does giant portraits using incense ash from Chinese temples. Words don't describe. This is art. Beautiful, sublime, masterful. This man will hang next to history's great artists through time.

Sing A Different Tune

Even when traveling to speak, I want to carry an image recorder. And if I’m going to spend the time to make the images, I want the result to be worth printing and keeping. Of course, to carry the good quality digital means a mule-load of equipment, batteries, drives, chargers, zoom lenses with vibration control, and other such indulgences. Our impulse these days seems to be for the “does-it-all” solution, which of course speaks for the HD video camera that shoots the nice panorama still (if you remember to bring the screw-on wide-angle adaptor). But ultimately, it does not satisfy. If you shoot video, the audio doesn’t make it because there is no sound man, and the stills are too low-res for large applications. The answer is so obvious as to require an apology with its revelation: shoot on some of the film in the fridge. Which, of course, is all about pulling out the M6.

I’m someone who loves things well-made. Anything. Even if I don’t like that category of object. And I’m a photographer, who ultimately still loves the mystery of a photon hitting a light sensitive surface. I will admit I still sometimes pull the old Leicas out of the safe and run through the shutter speeds, several times on each one. That’s what I was taught to do to spread the grease in the shutter. The Leica M series is a wonderful, well-designed, lovingly-made celebration of the human’s ability to craft something that is both machine and artwork.

I hate the contemporary practice, inevitable with technology, of taking the picture and looking at it immediately to decide if that was what you wanted. Confession: I do it too. But how craven.

So to have the result of the evolution of knowledge of camera-making in hand again, and respond to the rigor it demands, is quite a joy. Of course, for the big jobs, it’s not possible not to digitize... between cost and schedule.

And let’s not forget, film has a tremendous footprint.

My hope is that Leica will someday produce a digital reflex camera that uses the wonderful lenses I have kept in pristine condition. Hard to slow the march of progress.

Thank God, the Ice is Melting...

...otherwise, how would we get all that oil that we know lies under the Arctic? It’s a bit of a nuisance that the northeast has to suffer from such a rotten winter for it, but believe me, and ice-free North Pole will be better for everyone. Of course, we might have to fight the Russians for the mineral rights, but we’ll kick some commie butt just like we did the last time.

Our hunger for petrol and dwindling supplies are driving exploration farther afield, and the Arctic is the next on the list for extraction.

The recent spill in the Gulf Of Mexico taught the world much about oil spills and response. Fortunately, the spill happened in the spring within 200 miles of some of the most well-equipped ports in the world for offshore oil operations. In the Beaufort Sea, where Shell is preparing to drill north of Alaska, there is not a deepwater port for a thousand miles, and that one is a one-horse harbor in the middle of the ocean. The water in the area is only navigable a portion of the year, and periodic storms with “sustained winds may reach 65 to 70 knots; significant wave heights can climb to 40 to 50 feet” occur every few years.

A recent European study on Arctic weather forecasts "large increases in the potential for extreme weather events" and warns that "commercial activities in the North (e.g. fisheries, oil industry, shipping) will become increasingly vulnerable" to severe Polar low-pressure systems, described as the "Arctic Cousins" of tropical hurricanes.

Of course, as the weather gets rougher, accidents will increase and remediation becomes more difficult.

Until recent years, technology limitations and low oil prices have kept this vast repository of hydrocarbon wealth essentially out of reach of extraction. Those limiting factors are rapidly diminishing and oil companies are rushing to get a stake in the action. Logically, disasters, delays, and cost overruns would be directly proportional to severity of site conditions and distance from logistical support.

Some recent developments in Arctic petroleum exploration/extraction:

-The Norwegian national oil company Statoil has been producing gas from its Snøhvit drilling site above the Arctic Circle since September 2007. The ambitious project is completely sub-aqueous, and has been plagued with delays, overruns, and un-permitted greenhouse gas releases since the beginning. Statoil is one of the biggest players in some of the dirtiest hydrocarbon projects in the world, including the Catskills hydro-fracking controversy.

-BP has recently signed a deal with the Russian state-owned Rosneft to explore the Arctic areas off Russia’s continental shelf. Neither Russia or BP are known for their attention to the environment or safety record.

-Shell has received permits to begin exploration off the north coast of Alaska in the Beaufort Sea, and is moving equipment, including a drill ship and a newly built spill response ship into the area in anticipation. When one remembers that thousands of vessels were involved in the BP Deepwater cleanup, and one specialty disaster response ship seems inadequate. Shell has a record of environmental destruction and governmental manipulations in their projects around the world.

-Cairn Energy began drilling off the Arctic Coast of Greenland this summer, but had to stop after GreenPeace activists suspended themselves from structure of the drill rig.

If you were hoping that peak oil would arrive and provide the restraint that we seem to lack as a species, vis-a-vis our carbon addiction, think again. The dirty oil sources (like the tar sands) will allow us to continue to push up the atmospheric CO2 meter at an increasingly accelerated pace. Of course, when all of the ice has melted, the oceans will only rise 220 feet, so if you are in the mountains you’ll be fine, except for the sunburn...

Artist or Activist?

28 September 2010

Artist or activist? This question frequently arises in relation to the Industrial Scars project. The work is first and foremost art [works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power]. Many years of study into the rules of composition, color, and lighting have gone in to their making. The images hang in galleries and museums, and fetch high prices from collectors. All that said, the subject matter is highly contentious, which inherently makes the work political. There is plenty of precedent for this in the art world from Goya to Picasso to the artists of the Third Reich. This is art with a message.

One current project, Coal Ash, is about the 140 million tons of toxic waste generated as power plants burn this most polluting hydrocarbon to produce our electricity. Coal combustion waste (CCW) contains mercury, lead, arsenic, boron, selenium, and so on, but the utility industry has managed to keep it designated as non-toxic. Most of the 600 coal-burning power plants in the USA dispose their waste ash in unlined impoundments, from which the ash leaches into groundwater, or worse, bursts out and poisons the surrounding land and waterways. The other method of disposal is in your home. Because of its designation, utilities are permitted to sell the waste to manufacturers who use it as a component in: sheetrock, concrete, fertilizer, fill, paint, and a host of other products.

The EPA is currently holding hearings about the designation, and environmental groups are fighting to have it reclassified under subtitle C of the Resource Conservation and Recovery Act (RCRA) so that it must be handled as the toxic waste that it is. Every citizen has a personal stake in this as this toxic waste might already be in your home, and given the dispersal of coal-fired power plants, there might well be a coal ash dump near your house, contaminating the groundwater with arsenic.

Today I am in Washington DC where I will, along with the help of EarthJustice, lobby congressmen about the rule change, and then hold a reception in the Rayburn House Office Building, Room B-369.

Long-lasting change in our society ultimately happens through political machinations, which are foreign to me. Since my art is about things that need to change, this is an exciting adventure. And thus, the artist becomes activist.

A World Gone Crazy

17 August 2010

The rest of the world clings tenaciously to the myth of Obama: that he will bring sanity to the USA and its relations with the larger world. Admittedly, the rabid opposition that would ruin the country before allowing progress stymies much of his effort. Politics is a curious melee wherever it is practiced, swinging back and forth between poles, which seem to gradually drift rightward with the influence of corporate money. This is written from the comparably sane vantage of Europe, but the comedy of Berlusconi and stalemate at the Bonn Climate Conference make clear the prevalence of illogic. Meanwhile, the USA is still the country that tortures, is still having teens kill innocents remotely, still fighting unwinnable wars in two countries with massive civilian death tolls, and even our best efforts at climate control are tepid. So Obama is really the same animal with slightly different stripes; and he is the American politician that received the most campaign contributions from BP between 2004 and 2009 ($77,051.)

Meanwhile, fisheries in the Gulf have reopened, with a small codicil from the FDA that if the seafood doesn’t smell like gasoline, it is safe to eat. And The New York Times is declaring that the Deepwater spill is really not as bad as initially reported, with much of the oil evaporated, dissipated, dissolved, or disappeared. Of course BP will write off much of the cost of the cleanup, thus passing the buck on to the shoulders of the taxpayers, and Obama wants to allow drilling again. In a world gone crazy, sarcasm seems the only logical response.

So all is again well in this best of all possible worlds, in spite of the annoying unwillingness of the economy to create any new jobs as we ship the old ones off to the undeveloped world. Fortunately, the fisherman in the Gulf can return to work. Clearly Tony Hayward was right all along: it wasn’t much oil compared to all of that water in the ocean.

And what about the all that extremely toxic dispersant that was pumped and dumped in the Gulf? What about those disquieting rumors of BP and its Coast Guard lapdogs secreting the carcasses of whales and dolphins away in the middle of the night for disposal? Where are those submerged plumes of oil? What will happen to coastal residents who inhaled all of that sprayed Corexit blowin’ in the wind? The stories of persistent flu-like symptoms and other health issues are un-discussed on the major media.

Clearly the dispersant corrected the problem: out of sight is out of mind. And though the issues it will cause are really just beginning, it and the spill are no longer news.
Another interesting issue to the whole situation is the climate change impact of the whole thing. Between the continuous burning of the skimmed oil (and inadvertent ocean fauna caught in the skimmers), the flares burning captured gases, and more important, the tremendous amount of methane and other volatile gases that gushed out of the hole while it was open (oil was only a small part of what came out), the climate change impact of this disaster is immense.

The larger question is what about the resolve, echoed by every president in living memory, to move the USA to a sustainable energy future? Have we wasted the potential benefits of this crisis?

The last trip I made over the Deepwater site was after the leaky cap had been removed in preparation for the tightly fitting cap that stopped the leak, so oil was gushing freely, thus leading to some of the most interesting pictures yet.

Whitesville

4 July 2010

I’m in Whitesville, WV with Jim Hansen, the climate scientist, to attend Larry Gibson’s annual July 4 party. I’m here to do a portrait of Dr. Hansen, see Larry, and to go to his legendary fete. To entertain myself, I decided to bring an old Rollei f, truly one of the great cameras; it’s such a joy to shoot a little film. Remember black and white?

Larry is truly a modern David, squaring off against the goliath of king coal, personified by Don Blankenship, president of Massey Coal. To look at a satellite image, or better, to fly over Larry’s land is to laugh and cry simultaneously. An island of green rises from a despoiled expanse of regurgitated overburden from mountaintop removal mining. Modern mining processes, through mechanization, have inversed the human cost with environmental damage. Ironically, the corollary human toll is unemployment and decay of the communities that were supported by human-powered mining.

Resource wealth rarely benefits the populations in the rich place, those fortunes tend to be extracted to the same place whence went the resource. The people that remain are generally left with poverty, decaying infrastructure, and environmental nightmares.

Main Street, Whitesville is evidence of that pattern; of the few operative concerns were two funeral homes, a few stores (chain saws, floor coverings, five and dime), and of course a few churches. Most of the storefronts are haphazardly boarded, some with love notes written in the dust covering the windows. Dust near coal facilities is a tremendous health issue, and asthma tends to be high. Down the road is the Marsh Fork Elementary School, next to another Massey Coal processing plant. Above the school is an earthen dam holding millions of gallons of “slurry,” the chemical soup used to clean coal before it can be burned and continue its life cycle of destruction.

One can only imagine what Whitesville was like in its zenith, hard to picture all of the stores open and people on the sidewalks.

The people in Appalachia are some of the most vocal supporters of coal mining, and who can blame them? Their lives are at stake. If you lose you lose, but if you win, you really lose. Without coal they have no jobs, but with coal they have desecration, pollution, and asthma. Just down the road is Coal River Mountain, a summit steeped in legend and controversy. For years Massey pressed for permits to begin blasting apart the mountain for the coal underneath. The residents floated a proposal to build an array of windmills on the top, a solution that would have provided clean electricity and jobs forever, as opposed to the dirty and short-term plan of Massey, after which would remain a wasteland. Blasting began last year and destruction of the mountain is moving forward.

There is a better way. It won’t mean loss of jobs and decimation of the economy, to the contrary.

We must demand it.

The Letter from Green Mountain

16 November 2009

One of my favorite songs is “Every Grain Of Sand” by EmmyLou Harris. I had the good fortune to meet her, and she reminded me that it was originally a Bob Dylan song. To me, this song is about the importance of every small gesture in the big scheme of things: “The flap of a butterfly’s wings can cause a hurricane on the other side of the planet.”

My work is about getting people to evolve from being consumers to citizens, to question the impact of every dollar they spend, every bite they eat. At one time, I wanted to “win the hearts and minds” of people; now I just want behavioral change. If we all turn out the lights, it will be ok.

I’m doing a week of “artist in residence” at Green Mountain College in Vermont, doing individual critiques and presentations to the student body. This institution strives to “do the right thing” by the environment, the future, and the people here. The students and faculty come here because of the commitment and they obviously care about their “footprint.” Admittedly, they still leave some lights on when they leave the room, still eat ham and cheese, but by and large their wish is for a society of sustaianability. And I see the same thing in the USA, and the world at large: a concern with the current situation, and desire to be part of a change. Even people that until recently refused to acknowledge climate change grudgingly shrug. With that movement in the sentiment of the population, the only question becomes “tipping point.” What is the percentage of electricity buyers turning off the lights in protest of climate change that will be necessary to force the evolution to a more local, sustainable power? I'd wager that it’s not a big number.

Being part, if only for a week, of the intellectual dynamic of this place, and the currents I have seen in the larger USA leaves me with a real sense of hope.

COAL ASH - Part I

02 July 2009

The EPA has just released a list of coal ash ponds in danger of bursting. This report has gone unpublished until now, as the sites are so toxic it was feared they would become a terrorist target. There are about 1,100 coal-fired power plants in the USA (you can be sure there is one near you). I’m not going to discuss the 50 tons of mercury they emit, or all of the uranium, global warming gases and the many other toxics. Today I am talking about the waste ash, of which an average plant produces 125,000 tons a year. And this is nasty stuff, including: arsenic, mercury, chromium, cadmium and uranium, all things you don’t want to drink. Oops, did I forget to mention that the ash is dumped in unlined ponds that leach into the groundwater? The EPA (that great protector of industry) does not regulate coal ash and is just reluctantly starting to sample groundwater around these ponds. What a surprise, many of them have contaminated the groundwater.

But wait, the story gets better: In an effort to dispose of the stuff, the Bush cabal came up with a “beneficial use” alternative to disposal. So, they are mixing this highly toxic, very nasty stuff in with sheetrock and concrete. What will they think of next? Just before Christmas 2008, one of these ponds at a TVA coal plant burst, causing the largest industrial disaster in US history, dumping 1.7 million cubic yards of this lovely stuff into the Emory River, burying the houses along the river, and doing who knows what other damage. "Don’t worry," they said, "it’s just mud" (the government is here to help you, God love 'em!)

We generate half of our electricity from coal. To get at it, we are destroying West Virginia. Burning it is the largest cause of global warming, not to mention that it is poisoning our waterways with mercury and whatever else. And when it’s done, the ash is poisoning our drinking water.

Turn off the lights.

TAR SANDS - press release

June 30, 2009

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:

Described as a “Provocateur” by MSNBC’s Anne Thompson, photographer J Henry Fair never fails to inspire viewers with his horrifically beautiful imagery of environmental trauma. Whether his subject is the mountain-top removal mining practices of the coal industry, or the inhumane treatment of animals on factory farms, Fair’s message is clear: we are all complicit in the destruction of our planet, and to repair the damage we have done means cooperation en masse.

Fair recently collaborated with Columbia University’s Earth Institute and OSI to document the gas drilling practice known as “hydro-fracing,” which will severely affect the Catskills and have a major impact on the New York City water supply if allowed to continue. This project has received significant press attention and will subsequently be published as a book. Fair now sets his sights on our Northern neighbor: the Tar Sands of Alberta, Canada. The Tar or Oil Sands are a large deposit of bitumen, a tarry hydrocarbon, trapped in the earth, and has been called “The Most Destructive Project on Earth” by Environmental Defense.

In July, Fair will make his way up to Northern Alberta, so that he can capture this atrocity from his signature bird’s eye view. Working with key leaders in the Tar Sands cause, Fair’s photographs will become the centerpiece of a touring symposium which will endeavor to educate the public on this little known disaster. Set to debut this fall at Green Mountain College in Vermont, the tour will then continue on to a host of colleges, universities, and other organizations in the US and abroad.


For additional information or images, contact Katherine H. Womer Benjamin, 617.448.0007 or khwb.photog@gmail.com.

NEW YORK MAGAZINE!!!

Industrial Scars and my Gray Krauss exhibit are featured in New York Magazine this week!! Check it out: http://nymag.com/arts/art/.

AFRICA - Part VI

2009-02-20
Departure day of the SAAB conference, and these early mornings remind one that this is not a vacation; in keeping with that schedule, the crew piles into the land cruisers for a trek to Lake Nakuru Nature Center for a short game drive. Nakuru is famous for its flamingos and pelicans, and less so, for the pollution from the local industries which overflows from the sewers, making its way into the Lake. It’s certainly not unique to Kenya that natural wonders are being corroded by our negligence and overpopulation demands on resources and infrastructure.

Getting ahead of myself here, it was such a pleasure to ride in a vehicle with a crew of environmental experts that could fill me in on facts about everything from fertilizer (they were very patient with my relentless interest in this topic) plant uptake and release of nitrogen, etc. Nakuru was magnificent, pelicans are so cool, flamingos so weird, and the guarantee of seeing rhinos very exciting. It is the dry season, and the dust (a mixture of a fine igneous ash, guano and pollution) kicked up by the circling cars is so irritating that it robs some of the pleasure of being in this magnificent place. We are planning to stay on in the lodge; as most of the SAAB crew is flying out of Nairobi, haste is suddenly in order, and our caravan rushes into the compound in a cloud of dust, hasty goodbyes are exchanged, and the group is off.

Our plan had been to do an afternoon game drive, but fatigue, heat, and desire for a bit of time off convince us to spend an afternoon of leisure. (And did I mention they had a decent internet connection?) So it’s pool time for those willing to brave the equatorial radiation, and reading in the shade for those of fair skin. Meals prove to be very good: lots of vegetable dishes with good variety- mediocre desserts, but who needs all that sugar, right? Interesting that in this lodge, the guides are not segregated as has been the case in other facilities, so we ask Dennis to join us. He is the second guide we have had from Nature Expeditions, http://natureexpeditions.com/, and as good as Chris- very sharp eyes, which is essential, and knows every animal we see. The SAAB tour was run by a different operation, and that guide, though likable, was definitely not as observant. It’s so easy to miss the animals if you don’t know the indicators.

2009-02-21
Lake Nakura
Early morning game drive begins with a martial eagle, followed by some baboons with babies. Chimpanzees and gorillas interest me more, but it’s hard not to feel close with other hominids. Finally, we get to see white rhinos, so named because as grazers they have wide mouths, as opposed to the black rhino, a leaf browser, with a narrow mouth. In the distance, a pair of lions make their way across the plain, causing the inevitable caravan of safari vehicles, and we are not far behind. It’s a pair of brothers with a fresh warthog kill. The warthog ("Kenyan Express") has a short memory (or so the guides all tell us) and will often forget that it was just being stalked. So, it will reappear from the burrows it has appropriated from the mongoose, only to be grabbed by the waiting lion. Very exciting to see them so close, and we follow their tangent until they cross the road right in front of us.A poor jackal also trails them hopefully, but they ignore him completely, and he finally sits down in abject frustration. For me, the only thing better would be actually seeing the process of a kill- having studied wolves and the trickle-down effect of their dance with prey, seeing the process in this ecosystem would be fascinating. Without the top predators, the whole system falls apart, as was evidenced by the rejuvenation of Yellowstone with the return of el lobo. (Almost anyone who lives in suburbia in the USA wishes they had a few wolves around to control the deer population.) After the kings had disappeared to feast on a little pig, we returned to see the rhinos we were watching, magnificent, though not as exciting, especially since they kept their mouths to the ground. Hard to eat enough grass to sustain that much body mass.

After lunch we take a different route around the Lake, and see a colobus monkey in a tree; we then proceed toward the Lake, where a couple of rhinos are peacefully munching the grass. Despite my exhortations, they refuse to lift there heads, so we move over to the water's edge where innumerable flamingos and a few other species are congregating. Suddenly, we here a giant roar of 1000 birds ascending from the water’s surface, and the rhinos are running toward us (but not aggressively.) Apparently an inconsiderate safari car had driven too close to the birds and rhinos and startled them, but what a great opportunity to get shots of the rhinos in motion. They are so fascinatingly prehistoric.And speaking of fascinating, after milling around a bit, a group of about 8 flamingos form a line like a group of square dancers and start a ritual squawking, then repeatedly look left and right in unison, then all flash the colored patterns on their wings. Some of them proceeded to wave their endless necks and heads at each other, sometimes knocking heads. It was hilarious and bizarre, one of the strangest rituals I have ever seen. I was even able to capture some video, which will be uploaded in the near future. Stay tuned...

2009-02-22
Departure from Nakuru.
Dennis and I decide to go out early to hopefully see the elusive leopard. To shoot wildlife, one needs endless patience (short supply of that here), the proper equipment (mine is OK, not ideal), and quick reaction to the sudden event and conditions. And there is no knowing what will cross your path. This morning we were not lucky- a few birds I had not seen was the extent of our experience. Dennis, hoping for the grand finale, was disappointed; but you have to go out and be happy just to be there. Otherwise, it’s another stress, of which we all have too much. The dust I could have done without.

After a quick breakfast (one more crepe please) we are off to Nairobi, roads not too bad. Tensie must meet with the director of our safari company, Nature Expeditions, as Rainforest Alliance certifies eco-tourism. Here I should insert my plug for them: knowledgeable, friendly, prompt, and of course I had plugged the individual guides in previous posts. If you go to Kenya for safari I would highly recommend them.

That night we ate supper with the director of the United Nations Environmental Program, Achim Steiner and his wife Liz; a real treat to talk with people that are leading the fight and thinking about the big picture. They mentioned the Nairobi trash dump as a place of interest and my ears perked. Supposedly 10,000 people live and scavenge there, and interesting experiments in sustainability are being performed, such as a shower that is heated by methane, produced from the excrement of the residents. Nothing like a garbage dump to get me excited. Of course the urban myth is that you walk in and don’t walk out, but my experience has taught me that the people who live in these places are shy and decent, and when treated with respect, respond in kind. The Steiners knew a Dutch woman running a community group that works in the facility, and gave me the number so could call the next morning.

2009-02-23
I called Ms van Dijk at Sarakasi Trust, http://www.sarakasi.org/, which teaches performance arts to kids in the slums and provides a venue for presentation. She connected me with Maurice who teaches acrobatics in the Korogocho slum next to the Dandora Dump and agreed to go in with me, in spite of the horrible stories he had heard. The Nairobi River separates the dump from the slums, and a more polluted estuary you have never seen. Our first encounters were with people washing plastic bags in the River for resale.They forded the River like it was a pristine babbling brook, but I was determined not to wet my shoes in that sludge. So we walked along until we found a place we could hop from old tire to mound of unidentifiable plastic to other shore, and proceeded into Hades. Everywhere things were burning, the air filled with acrid smoke. Hideous giant Marabou Storks seemed to dwarf the humans next to them as they sifted through the garbage. An old lady used a piece of bent rebar to rake through the ashes of the never-ending fire to find any pieces of metal she could sell. Everything was shades of grey from the ashes to burnt pieces of metal to her coloration after so many years of being there. The smoke would suddenly envelope, obscuring everything, then clear to reveal people engaged in various foraging activities. But I never felt frightened or threatened. On return to New York I would discover that the Blacksmith Institute rates it as one of the most toxic places on Earth; it felt that way being there. What an intractable problem. I have been in similar places around the world- God knows why I would want to. Maybe my interest is because this is the bottom of the consumption chain, like the container of rubber duckies that fell into the sea and ended up in the bellies of the whales.

Return to New York via London meant two 8 hour flights; what a joy. Of course there is the time-zone issue, but more than that, there is a necessary readjustment of time/culture frame. In a way, life seems so much more real there: we are all panicked about the economic crisis, not that any of us really understand the credit default swaps that got us into this mess. And we keep throwing mountains of money at nebulous corporations which we know don’t deserve it, but we are afraid to let them fail, lest they take down our fragile boats in the wake. Meanwhile, in Kenya they are digging the dirt, growing the tea, protecting the animals for the tourists, and waiting for the influx of Obama fans who Kenyans hope will pay big money for a trip to the hometown of the father.

AFRICA - Part V

2009-02-17
An early rise to tour the plantation and have a presentation from the different departments. First is the field harvesting, led by Julius, in which he describes the life cycle of a mature tea plant, the plucking of the leaves, pruning, and of course, water management. Even though it’s 8am, the sun is brutal.Next stop: the eucalyptus stand, which they grow as sustainable fuel to dry the tea. One would think: 23 miles from the Equator, the sun could do the job, but apparently the process is too precise and sol too fickle. They are experimenting with other options, including bamboo, and of course, anything is better than using petrol. Off to the factory; what a process. We suit up in lab coats and disinfect before going in to see all of the steps. Suffice it to say those little leaves go through a lot before you drop them in your cup.

Unilever generates much of its power from hydro electricity, and seeing the power station was a treat. The generators are quite old, made in Britain in the 30s or 40s; both aesthetically and environmentally pleasing.Part of Unilever’s sustainability effort includes their own tree planting (endangered native species, of course) as a carbon offset against the travel miles to get here. Of course the USA contingent came the longest distance, and we each had to plant six trees. Fear not, dear Reader, this artist’s hands were hardly sullied: staff did all of the hard work leaving only the dropping of a seedling into a hole and backfilling to our uneducated selves. It always feels good to have planted a few seedlings, hoping they will mature into big trees; but I don’t really believe in carbon offsetting. We should just stay home (says the guy who came the most miles).

2009-02-18
The KTDA (Kenya Tea Development Authority) is a governmental agency that organizes the smallholder producers that grow 62% of the tea grown in Kenya. They provide education about techniques and technologies, operate processing factories, and sell the tea at the weekly auction in Mombassa. Uniliever is the largest buyer of KTDA tea to provide the balance between what they produce and what they need for their brands.

Photography in the KTDA factories is prohibited, a stricture I have ignored in the past, but observed today as it was similar to the Kericho factory. The Momul Factory was older with less technology, but the staff was dedicated and friendly. After a short (by African standards) meeting, we shared the obligatory tea and caravanned a small tea farm, owned and operated by Simon and Esther Langiot.Our arrival was greeted by that wonderful African acapella singing of individual statement and group response followed by a tour of the farm in which the owner described the transition to Rainforest Alliance certified production methods, and the differences it had made. Unilever has been working with the KTDA in the move to certify all of the tea used in their products, and this farm was really a model of order and good practice. Alas, the tour was followed by a rather endless presentation in which the group of local farmers FFS (Farmer Field School) presented, in a bit to great a detail, all of their experimentation and findings. But the upshot was that the program is encouraging and rewarding them to continuously examine and modify their practices, thereby improving yields and reducing environmental impact. They were wonderful, warm people, and it’s fantastic to see their enthusiasm, motivation, and gratitude to Unilever and RA. Also nice to see “fist world” Companies and NGOs working cooperatively with communities instead of dictatorially, and I think the results are much more effective and long-lasting.

During the presentation, I slipped away on a bit of a walkabout, stumbling upon this absolutely gorgeous young woman plucking tea in her small plot.We chatted a bit, such as we were able with our different tongues, about our different lives and realities.

2009-02-19
SAAB meetings all day, and the patient reader knows how this scribe enjoys a good meeting. But in the spirit of sacrifice, it was off to find the perfect images to illustrate the making of tea. The hand-made aspect of the process seems the key, and the faces and smiles are so beautiful and natural; the mission was clear. I love the human face as subject matter: infinitely variable and interesting, and a window to the soul; I can shoot people endlessly. Actually, the SAAB crew, needing a bit of reëducation themselves, were sent to the fields at dawn to do a little plucking under the tutelage of the pros. [photo] Clearly this was not the perfect illustration of plucking, so off I went with Jeremiah (farm manager) in search of the grail.Another important aspect of tea horticulture is the pruning of the bush, done using a weed whacker with a blade, without which it becomes a tree. This forces the plant to "bush out" and keeps the leaves within reach of the pluckers. My determination for the perfect image came in direct conflict with Unilever’s obsession with safety. Fortunately, I had cleared my devil-may-care approach with one of the top executives, and the staff reluctantly allowed me to work without the armor normally worn on this job.

Next to the factory where Micha, the manager showed me around. In our brief group tour several days before, the concerned pr team, like mother hens, had immediately stopped me as I attempted to scale the vertiginous heights necessary to get the ideal images. Micha, proud of his team and operations, was happy to assist. Interesting the social differences in societies: in the west we keep our distance from each other, and are immediately suspicious of any unsanctioned contact (heaven forbid two men kiss or hug). Micha and I walked arm in arm through the factory chatting about this and that. Again I was struck at the complexity, cleanliness, and precision required in the making of tea.

Throughout the day I crossed paths with John, the British videographer chasing his version of the same story, trading friendly insults and barbs, and providing helpful tips. He mentioned that the breeding center was interesting, and I have always been fascinated with the idea of grafting: that we can take a root with desirable properties, attach it to a top and thus have our cake and eat it too. Margaret demonstrated the process, too simple to believe that it actually works.

After a quick lunch, it’s off to the Unilever sponsored school where the kids are so bright and enthusiastic and beautiful I just wanted to do a portrait of each one- problem is, as soon as I try to shoot one, 10 more crowd into the frame, all rushing toward the camera, making it impossible to focus.Of course whenever we media devils go to a school we gawk at the beautiful children, so I wanted to visit with the teachers. They were an inspiration, and we talked about our respective experiences, and I photographed them and promised to send a Wolf Center Calendar.

I love the fact that the tea factory generates 70% of its electricity from hydro power, so I had to go back by the station and do some abstracts of the machinery. The USA generates 50% of its power from coal, and the alternatives are abundant and free, and many of the technologies have been with us for a long time. I won’t go in to the devastating effects of coal- the patient reader has heard me rant on this subject before. We must demand change.

AFRICA - Part IV

2009-02-14
Today’s adventure is a full day safari. All cultures that I have known within the tropics come to a stop in the middle of the day, and that includes the animals. The sun rises to a cool morning, creating a wonderful contrast of warm light and blue shadows, then climbs up, obliterating any respite from its withering inspection, and seems to linger indefinitely, until suddenly evening is there with a sigh. As a photographer, this is the magic time, and it’s quite short (l’hora de bruja the Spanish TVE crew called it at Minas Rio Tinto). The Park closes at 18:30, which makes it even shorter. The advantage of a full day excursion is that one can go further into the Park. Fortune does not smile on our venture as it had in the past days; there are some female lions lying in the sun with hardly the energy to acknowledge our presence, a mother cheetah with three nine month old cubs escaping the sun under a tree, lifting their heads periodically to watch for lions, who guard their territory jealously, and will kill any interlopers. The cheetah has only fleetness of foot as defense, an escape the lions foil through encirclement, so the ever-watchful mother has reason for caution.Thanks to the watchful eye of James, a Maasai from the area, a glimpse of the elusive leopard is provided, one of probably 40 in the park. His Maasai name is Somoine, but with christening and education, he became James. The Maasai are allowed to graze their cattle in the Reserve during the dry season, and Somoine (James) asks if we could stop and check on his brother who is tending the herd. Interestingly, Sonkoi, his brother from a different mother in a polygamous family, was not christened or “educated,” and their different demeanors fascinate me. The “forbidden fruit” comes with a cost(more later on this).Elephants never cease to stir wonder, and there are several groups to see, their social dynamic and solicitation of the young are amazing to watch.

Back at the camp, a glass of wine and splash of water to revive, and then a chat with the guides and staff about the impact of the economy on them, and their views on conservation. The camp has a capacity of up to 45 people (my guess) and there are no other guests; so the current economic situation has a severe impact on the people here. Kenya has very little in the way of mineral resources, so tourism and agriculture are its main source of foreign revenue. Americans and Europeans come to Africa to view the animals, and a psychic “return to Eden.” The people here view the animals from a utilitarian perspective: Maasai kill the lions as a rite of passage, others kill the animals for food. As tourists came with money, and that money trickled out to rural people, they have slowly begun to see the animals as a resource of a different type. But if that income disappears, the view of animals as food or aspects of ritual will again predominate; and there are not so many lions left.
Supper was even better, the chefs preparing it in the dining tent tonight. Even for a vegetarian there was ample variety, and all delicious.After dinner, entertainment consisted of a performance of Maasai traditional dances performed by the staff. Handsome like gods, it was fascinating to see the rituals which address the same issues we face in our society: health, religion, welfare, and marriage. As one who refuses to even sing karaoke, I was fascinated at the lack of self-consciousness exhibited by James, who goes back and forth between the western world and that of his forebears.


2009-02-15
Departure from Nyumbu came too soon. The hospitality was genuine and touching; simply relaxing and reading would have been a welcome respite.But now we were to start the business segment of our trip: examination of Unilever’s sustainable tea production in Kericho. Tensie Whelan, ED of the Rainforest Alliance, is on the SAAB (Sustainable Agriculture Advisory Board). Unilever (Lipton Tea being its largest brand) buys 12% of the world’s tea, and has made a commitment to source all of its tea sustainably by 2015. The SAAB was established to help them examine every aspect of their supply chain to reduce their negative environmental impacts. Rainforest Alliance certifies their tea, a process that specifies all aspects of production from the planting and harvesting, worker housing, water and chemical use to the packaging. The Kericho Tea Estate is an old plantation, and we were housed in the original owner's house, built in the traditional British style. It was absolutely charming, and I must here issue a grateful thanks to Julius, the Kenyan man who addressed our needs before we were even aware of them. Much of the discussion was quite technical and above the head of your lowly artist narrator, but the upshot is Unilever has committed to great leaps forward in its environmental and worker stewardship with no guarantee of remuneration for the investment. I believe that society will soon stipulate that producers adhere to strict environmental standards, either as a reaction, or hopefully as an aversion, to cataclysm, and companies that have made the investment early will be paid back in spades. Unilever, in spite of the economic downturn, is staying the course, and I personally hope consumers will reward them. The industrial Scars project is predicated on the notion that real forward progress towards sustainability can only be driven by the purchase decisions of the consumer. If we continue to buy toilet paper made by cutting down old growth forests and polluting waterways with chlorine chemicals, the companies doing this have no immediate incentive to change.

The SAAB is composed of a variety of experts from agronomists to environmentalists to social welfare experts, and meeting them all was a real treat. I am continuously searching for answers to questions raised by my photographs, and the opportunity to chat with experts in various fields provides background and research direction. There is no escape from history, and much of life in Kenya is influenced by British Colonialism, for good and bad. The hospitality and accommodation at the estate was wonderfully genteel in a way I have not experienced since shooting the British military bands a number of years ago. Evening drinks on the veranda with the sun setting over the plantation owners' gardens was a treat. A wonderful anecdote as related by Richard Fairburn, the plantation manager: the original gardener that came with the estate, when asked by Unilever to stay on, said he would like a job description, which was then drafted. He studied it, and responded, saying that there was no mention of sustainability, fertilizer or chemical use, and wildlife corridors, and that these items must be included. Unilever promptly gave him a greatly expanded area to supervise.

2009-02-16
SAAB orientation meetings today, and they certainly don’t need an uneducated opinionated troublemaker such as me to irritate and impede the dialog. As an alternative, a satellite internet connection is offered: drugs to a junkie. But wait: remember dialup? Imagine ten times worse. No twenty. Constant disconnections when it even works. The things we take for granted.

Time for some observations you say?
There seem to be two rainy seasons in much of the area we have visited- big rains in early spring, and small rains in the fall. They do not seem to be subject to the wild fluctuation I am seeing in the northeast of the USA where we go from spring to winter several times in the course of a week.

Kenya is a nation of many tribes, a composition that predisposes interpersonal relationships as well as politics.These are roadside dwellings of people that were displaced by the violence of last years’ disputed election and accompanying intertribal violence, which was centered in the Kericho Region. Several of the Unilever local staff were killed, and the company made a valiant effort to evacuate and protect its people. The consequence of the unrest is much population displacement, with many people refuging in the Mau Forest nearby, and of course cutting down trees for fuel. The ramifications are affecting rainfall at the plantation and we will hear about resulting water shortages far away at the next preserve we visit.

AFRICA - Part III

2009-02-11
We start the day meeting with the Greenbelt Coalition, an organization founded by Wangari Mathai who won the Nobel Prize for her work planting trees across Africa. They have fantastic credibility, are very knowledgeable and pragmatic in their approach to saving Lake Naivasha, and are working on bringing all the stakeholders into dialog. After the obligatory compliments and group photo we break for lunch, after which we proceed to the Wildfire Flower Farm.A large industry has grown up in this area, supplying cut flowers to Europeans, who own most of the flower farms. Cut flowers are an environmental disaster of the first order: tremendous volumes of water, fertilizer, and pesticides are used to grow and process the flowers, lots of electricity for cooling and supplemental lighting, and then they are put on a plane and flown to market, producing a sizable carbon footprint. And then there is the issue of worker health: we heard reports of many people getting sick from chemical exposure. You want to do something good for the planet? Give fruit instead of flowers. That said, they are aware of the problem at Wildfire, and are attempting to address issues as much as an unregulated industry will do (meaning mostly to save money). And one cannot condemn- everyone changes by necessity, and all change is painful. We met with the manager, Kirigia Gitari, and the operation was as expected.

They are trying to reduce fertilizer use via compsting, pesticides with Integrated Pest Management (using one bug to kill another) and various other things. This is a shot of water on the road that runs along all of the flower farms-serious algae blooms there.


Next on the agenda was a meeting at town hall; the Mayor cancelled, so the Deputy Mayor and Town Clerk (who seemed to be the real power) met with us. It was a fascinating study in African personalities and politics. The requisite speeches and proclamations were made, and of course, status determines speaking order.

The Greenbelt contingent thanked he town officials for their attendance at the various events, and the functionaries evinced their support of the effort to save the Lake. Hard to know if this drive will arrive- as usual, the forces doing the most damage are the ones with the most money, and my experience is that politics always follows the money. Wangari Mathai and the Greenbelt have so much credibility and authority- one must hope for miracles. The finale of the meeting was a ceremonial tree planting, amusing to see officials in suits trying to get the young trees out of their containment bags and into the ground.The trees planted were acacia, a hardy species ideally suited for this dry harsh climate, armed with thorns and a nitrogen fixer, meaning it obtains the nitrogen it needs from the air and then replenishes the soil with that vital plant macro-nutrient.

After what seemed like endless officialdom, we finally made our departure, not before endless salutations -- naturally! On the other side of town is a geo-thermal power generation plant, which fascinates me-electricity with no pollution. Unfortunately a tour requires a 48-hour notice, impossible in our schedule, so we drove there to see it, but it looked like nothing, and we could not get close enough for a photo.

2009-02-12
Today’s destination is Maasai Mara Game Preserve, reputedly the most impressive in Kenya, unfortunately a back pounding 6 hours away. On the way we stop at Crescent Island Game Park, founded by Karen Blixen, who wrote "Out of Africa," to shoot the movie. Since there are no dangerous animals, this is one place visitors are allowed to walk around, which is a pleasure after so much driving. Our guide, though nice, has a teaching technique based on asking us the names of things we could not possibly know. The whole place seems sterile and man-made, essentially the movie set that it was created to be. Though our guide describes it as a paradise for the animals, an ecosystem without predators is one with diseases, malformities, overgrazing, and overpopulation.
The drive to Maasai Mara is as brutal as expected. We stop at Narok, a Maasai town, and are of course approached by people wanting to sell us souvenirs. But it is done in such a gentle, good humored way, and always with genuine curiosity about who we are and where we are from, that it’s not a problem.

Finally, Maasai Mara: beautiful as expected. It must have rained recently, as it is wonderfully verdant. The campis on the other side of the park, and it is amazing: very low-key, solar-powered, unobtrusive tents with Maasai that welcome us with humor and gentility. They are obviously very concerned about our being attacked by wild animals and caution us repeatedly not to walk around without a guide. Doubtless they are overcautious, but we opt to heed if only to humor.

Before supper, we decide to take a walk and are escorted by two Maasai (who don’t speak English). It is beautiful: sun setting in the West, giraffe, zebra, and wildebeest around us. It occurs to me that there is a fantastic disparity of lifestyles: the Maasai must look at us as the Westerners, rich with material goods that fly in on jet planes (The Gods Must Be Crazy) and employ them as servants and guides. We look at them as a people living this elysian life: at one with nature, communing with God, not subject to the daily stresses we face. And of course, the nature of our respective stresses is so different: as a freelance artist, I will return to New York, worry about unreasonable client demands and deadlines, the source of the next job, overdue invoices, and whether I will produce on the next job (you are only as good as your last shoot). They, on the other hand, will worry (I imagine) about the source of the next meal, or being attacked by a lion. Neither of us has a clue about the realities the other faces, and idealizes the unknown lifestyle.

2009-02-13
The day starts before dawn and as the sun rises, we surprise a “newlywed” pair of lions, apart from the pride, mating repeatedly.It’s wonderful to be in this place the only sound being the soft roar of a lion trying to have sex. They ignore the presence of people completely. After watching a while, we decide to look for other “attractions.” Soon we see a bevy of Land Rovers, which can only mean some animal worth watching. Turns out to be a cheetah with cubs- gorgeous beyond telling. The comedy/tragedy of this mother, who must be on guard against the lions that would kill her for being in their territory, surrounded by gawking humans (that includes us) is hard to describe. Slowly they all become bored and disperse, leaving us.Of course, the best things happen for those with patience, and the cubs proceed to frolic on her, which she tolerates adoringly. The hippos we see in the river are cute, then it’s lunch time. Chris, ever wise, suggests we go out again at 4pm, but we push for 3:30, and of course he agrees. Guess what: nothing to see until 5pm. Smart ones in the tropics nap through the hot part of the day. Again drawn by the crowd of Rovers, we see a lion couple with cubs, but their position in the bushes and the setting sun prevent any good photos. The park closes at 6:30, and Chris clearly wants to be close to that curfew, proceed out, but see the usual grouping of safari vehicles that indicate worthy sightseeing, and it’s a cheetah with a cub over a kill. The setting sun (at the right angle to us) and the blood on their mouths make for fantastic shots.

Back to the camp, short constitutional, and another simple but yummy supper. In the evening I sat with three Maasai men, entertaining them with my “magic box,” we call a computer. You want to hear Rastaman Vibration, got it right here. Perhaps more amazing are the things we have in common. I show them pictures I shot today, they tell me what I see. Then I show them pictures of other things from my world literally the other side of the planet, but a universe away. Now it’s Rigoletto-imagine trying to explain opera to men who don’t speak your language, and share a totally different culture.