Nobody’s Home
 
Nobody’s Home, is a collection of images from 2020 to the present, of beggars and homeless people’s belongings on the streets of Wellington’s central business district. I’m not sure if there is a direct link to the global pandemic or if I’ve just noticed them more, but these collections of belongings left on the streets seem to have become more commonplace during this period. These groups of belongings form part of the visible progression of begging or living on the streets of Wellington over the last few years.
 
John Williams, 2022

Note: John's photo series is displayed in a grid of twelve A3+ prints in the main gallery room, mid-LH wall.
Prints are for sale, POA.

Georgina Mary 1929 - 2022 - photographs by Susan Barber

This project began in quite a different place from what you see here. Originally the plan had been to document some of what I had been observing at the Old People’s Home with my mum as the central character. Not having ever spent any length of time in such a place I was at first really confronted by the ageing and decline I was seeing. But as time went on I began to see more. The acceptance, care and love from the staff and the residents themselves were far more than their outer shell. 

I began with that idea.  To get past the uncomfortable to begin to see that an Old People’s Home was a community of real people, our mums, dads, aunties, uncles, cousins, grandparents, great grandparents, our neighbours and friends.  I wanted to show the companionship, generosity, respect and caring amongst the residents and from the staff and it was easy to find.  But because some of the residents weren’t able to give their permission to be photographed (they weren’t sufficiently aware), I didn’t photograph them. However, my mum was willing and so were some others. 

I have filed those photographs now, I don’t want to think about them just yet.  When my mum was dying everything else disappeared. It was prolonged and painful and mum suffered terribly. For three weeks she was very ill, for six days she didn’t eat or drink and for two she was in a coma. Mum died just short of her 93rd birthday.

In choosing to show these photographs I’m aware they could be misunderstood. However, my purpose is to share the emotion and share some of her story. I think the piece I share here is part of a much bigger story in our society and something we all have to talk about openly 


Dissolution


I had expected you would go in your sleep
But instead your frail old body fought
Light and then dark, light then dark
Calling to the already dead
Help me, help me, please help me

I had ached with each gasping cry from you
and every rising wail
Grief repressed now releasing
A part of you long lost

A lonely young woman with drifting dreams of love 
She had known he would come to her
Uplift her, ride with her to light through wild skies and she would hold him 
and he would hold her 
and kiss her so softly she would melt in his arms. 
And they would lay together and raise their babies
and she would cradle them and tell them, oh, how she loved them

Light and then dark, light then dark
Calling to the already dead,
Help me, help me, please help me

I had hoped to come to know you better
Such a puzzle. Smatterings, shadows, crumbs of your life.
Stories dissolving to silence
Impenetrable layers of hurt

The lonely young woman with her dreams of love can’t come out. 
The man had beset her body with drunken violence again
and over again.
His hands round her neck and then slapping and punching
till she was lost of all love
And their children were frightened and they cried and they hid

I had watched you weeping and then wash your face
and harden your look
Your demeanour grew angry, contempt made you strong
And flailing in a world of loss and undone 
the lonely young woman with her foolish dreams of love 
flickered out.
You were now wise to the softness of women, how could they be so stupid and certainly stupid they were with their drifting dreams of love 

Light and then dark, light then dark
Calling to the already dead,
Your calls grew weak 
You were quiet 
and then you were silent

I had wanted us to mend if we could
Dismissive, unreadable, unreachable we never got on
I had known of your distress but not of your dreams
Criticism and riddles, misunderstanding 

And then in your papers a ribbon tied tattered bundle of words
a jumble of poems fragments and scraps
Whispers of the lonely young woman her dreams soft dancing 
Light sparkle on water, lacy patterns in the sky
The air, the breeze, sun warm on her skin
Butterfly kiss, he was there. 
She had perfected his look, yes tall, yes handsome.
His devotion, his strength, their love. 
His hands held hers 
 

On Hold - photographs by Susan Barber

With Covid we went from citizens of the world to the team of five million and then came the feeling of isolation. Of being not exactly where we should be, not in the right spot, uneasy where we were. Waiting. Waiting. Inside out, upside down, on hold...

In the recent topsy turvy times ‘On Hold’ was an idea to try to document some of what some people were feeling. With small influences from Glen Busch’s 1981/83  project ‘Working Men’ I wanted to use natural light and record real people, in this case, Wellington City people. Each individual right outside where they live (often with their door in view) to echo the way many of us stayed at, or near, home while living through plans on hold, borders closed, working from home, reduced social gatherings until the first big wave of the pandemic was done. I wanted to capture some of the fragility, fatigue, the impatience (or the acceptance) and mostly the almost palpable yearning of people waiting, longing for the ‘on hold’ button to switch off.

And now of course, it has. ‘On Hold’ is over.

Through working on this project I’ve gone from feeling stressed and inadequate at the mere thought of making a portrait of anyone (other than close family), to welcoming the opportunity to meet up with the many friends of my lovely friend Kimberly to photograph them (Thank you Kimberly!).

It has been a tremendous growth experience and while I can see aspects (many) I could have improved - for example, to have had people look straight into the camera (because we make connections with people through their eyes - I think I’ve found my photography love. Documentary style portraits in an effort to help us enjoy our unique individuality yet deepen our connections to others, our feelings of community.

I’d like to extend my grateful thanks to the individuals in these portraits, such good will and generosity from you all. I loved working with you, you are just fab :)) James Gilberd and John Williams, thank you for sharing your expertise and wisdom and for the patience, the endless time and the humour you have given our Photocourse 3 group. You are amazing.

Note: Along with 'Georgina Mary 1929-2022', Susan's portrait series 'on Hold' is displayed in Photospace Gallery  room 3.

Janet Ford – Reunited

I set out to capture a sense of my local community, knowing that the landscape, people and happenings of Te Motu Kairangi presented endless stories. I met and photographed some wonderful people.
Deep down though, I struggled to connect as I usually do. The familiar suddenly felt isolating.
These photos embody my community in 2021. My family atop and around the Miramar peninsula, enjoying the freedoms and togetherness that we are lucky to have, even during lockdown. An empty airport, providing much needed quiet and stillness on the world, yet stopping me from flying south.
Reunited at Christmas with the family I longed for. My Dad and son working on a project in my parents’ century-old workshop, packed full of treasures connecting us all; my late grandmother smiling at us from an old photograph. Coming together for ‘smoko’ every day.
 
Te Motu Kairangi / Miramar Peninsula, [August 2021], nos. 1-3
Wellington airport, [August 2021], nos. 4-6
Family home in Dunedin, [December 2021], nos. 7-12
Printed by Picaflor Fine Art Printing on Ilford Smooth Rag 310gsm
With thanks to my family.

Note: Janet's photo series are displayed in the main gallery room and gallery room 3.