Burned

The dangers of prolonged exposure to the force of the sun have been extensively documented. This picture of last Wednesday’s encounter in the Philippines cannot emphasize any stronger the need to cover up, especially for those of us frequently traveling by motorbike.
Long puzzled, I finally understood the meaning of the traditional Chinese Proverb ‘Driving Like a Roasted Pig’.
One picture says more than a thousand health warnings and I, for one, will certainly heed this.

As for you, another warning could be appropriate: Don’t take everything I write at face value.

You may get burned too.

Not Here Anymore Not Quite There Yet.

© Hans Kemp 2008

Charlie Brown Goes to Hua Hin.

I was in Thailand over the weekend for the Hua Hin Jazz festival. Masses of people attended the event, mostly for the chance to have a picnic on the beach and a chat with friends. Hands down the best performance came from Kenny Garrett and his band. Seeing and hearing him play was the main reason for coming to Hua Hin.

And Charlie Brown?
Those of you familiar with Kenny Garrett know that he went to South Africa instead.

Not Here Anymore Not Quite There Yet.

© Hans Kemp 2008

Square Off

The world is square. It used to be flat. And after that it was round for a while. But not anymore. Now it is square. Square like a box.
There is a box for everything that exists and when there isn’t it doesn’t.

Fortunately pockets of roundness survive, dispersed havens of sanctity, little oasis where travelers in a square world can find much needed nourishment.
I like to travel between these pockets. What doesn’t fit suits me well.

And so I found myself in Cambodia recently, for the Pithi Chrat Preah Neanng Korl or Royal Ploughing Ceremony. A wonderful traditional arcane ritual whereby the Royal Oxen’s behaviour predicts the success (or failure) of the coming year’s harvest.
This year, farmers all across Cambodia returned home relieved as, from the 7 trays of produce to choose from, the Oxen took generous helpings of the rice, beans and corn. Sesame seeds, water, rice wine and grass were left untouched, a largely fortunate omen except for the poor sesame seed farmers.



I had arranged for a press pass, a day prior to the event. That was my box and it would hopefully give me access. Staff at the Ministry of Information was helpful but all in all it took around 6 hours to be processed.

I was relieved that even after all that time my face didn’t quite fit the space it was given.

Not Here Anymore Not Quite There Yet.

© Hans Kemp 2008

Merry Enigma

Is the world coming to an end?
A few days ago as I was having breakfast in a Hong Kong McDonalds (I know, so keep your comments for later), the piped music changed from a tearful Canto-pop ballad to a familiar tune. I looked around me, was anybody noticing? Or was it too early in the morning for that?
On cue my mind filled in the next line “ ……. and a happy new year”. I knew that the commercial powers that be in Hong Kong pushed the festive season forward every year but the middle of May?

The South China Morning Post I read that morning had page after page devoted to the devastating Sichuan earthquake. Miraculous rescues as people were pulled from the rubble more than 4 days after the earth shook so violently. Ordinary Chinese people were joining forces in an unprecedented show of solidarity. “Our belly is full, thanks to the economic progress” one citizen was quoted, “so we can care for others.”
The bottom right ¼ section of the last page covering the quake was an advertisement for the latest model luxury German car. “ The road is your catwalk,” it proclaimed.

The Chinese government has put no restrictions on ordinary people organizing themselves at a grassroots level to travel to Sichuan and assist in the rescue work. An article in the Asia Wall Street Journal questioned whether that would be the beginning of the end, a genie once out, that couldn’t be put back in the box. A new people’s movement. What is the writer hoping for? Can’t people just help each other?

In the meantime the Burmese powers that be (still and unfortunately) wont let foreign aid and assistance offer much needed relief to the victims of cyclone Nargis, some of whom have, two weeks after the disaster struck, yet to be reached. The Chinese government, one of the regime’s staunchest supporters and customer of their natural resources, says it is an internal issue and the Burmese leaders should not be pressured.

Having just returned from the Philippines I remembered a story on rice. The Philippine government sought a guarantee from Vietnam that it could buy rice, since their own harvest could not supply enough. I was in the Philippines to photograph a festival in honor of San Isidro Labrador, the patron saint of the farmers. The priest blessed carabao and a colorful parade ensued. This year though, in the community where I went to take my photos, the number of attending carabao had decreased to only 4. Most of the rice fields had been turned into residences, there were few farmers left.

Some things are impossible to comprehend.

Just like me eating that EggMcMuffin ™

Not Here Anymore Not Quite There Yet.

© Hans Kemp 2008

The Hands That....

It has been a month with little photography yet many photographs. Publishing took priority over shooting as the series of books Visionary World will launch this year required me to look through thousands and thousands of images.
As a photographer my heart beats fastest from behind a camera. Seeing an image in the making through the viewfinder while knowing it’s your finger that controls the moment of exposure.
For 1/125th of a second you are God, sometimes for 1/30th even, without support. Using a tripod somehow diminishes the ”let there be light” experience.

…. Feed Me.


The necessity of physical nourishment has led me onto the publishing path years ago. As a photographer I would do all the groundwork, from concept all the way through till the final image. Why not take the last step as well and publish? Taking this path then continues to make all the difference today.
Now Visionary World is embarking on an even more ambitious journey. A series of books with an emphasis on Asia is in the making. One of the themes we focus on is hands. I am not going to give away much now but these will be some very beautiful books!

….Fed Me.



My mother just celebrated her 80th birthday, more than enough reason for me to make a quick trip to Holland, visiting Mum and Dad for a few days. For me it will be back to Asia tomorrow.

Not Here Anymore, Not Quite There Yet

© Hans Kemp, 2008

Innocent

Innocent

Wow.
It’s over, done, finished, past. The Konomiya Hadaka Matsuri climaxed into everything I hoped it would and more. For the past 2 weeks nearly I have been attempting to understand if not to at least witness the many ceremonies and events preceding the final frenzied fifty minutes.
It all started with the divine selection of Mr. Ogawa Tomoyoshi as Shin Otoko or God-Man. Chosen by the Gods to absorb everyone’s bad luck for the entire year ahead he was clearly aware of the situation’s gravity.
Yesterday morning, after the madness of the day before, he looked a changed man. Positively beaming and radiant, the burden of his responsibility clearly lifted.

In its pure simplicity it is a brilliant concept: exorcise your ill fortune simply by touching the Chosen One. The reality though came crushing down hard, the combined force of thousands of men all trying to do the same thing at the same time hard.
To prevent overheating by the energy released in this mass collision of ecstatic bodies, the centre of the action, with the Shin Otoko its nucleus, was incessantly doused with ice cold water. It seemed to have little effect as the water instantly evaporated to create a layer of ominous steam rising from the mad crowd.

Those who could not, would not or were not allowed to partake in the mass assault, the elderly, women and children, didn’t need to fear a year filled with misfortune for tradition prescribed many ways to ensure a year of clear sailing ahead. The bad luck could be pounded into mochi, rice cakes made by putting steamed rice in a granite mortar and using a large wooden sledgehammer for pestle. Entire neighborhoods had thus made huge rice cakes that were offered to the shrine in the two days preceding the grand finale.
The biggest of them all was made by a well-known mochi factory and weighed a mere 4 ton.
As it is public knowledge that evil spirits hate the sound of tearing cloth people would shred pieces of red and white material and tie it at specific locations in the Konomiya Shrine.
Another method was to write your name and age on a piece of material then tie it to a large bamboo pole. On the main day of the festival these poles would then be carried and offered to the shrine by the participating men.

Now that I am looking back on the events of the past weeks and ask myself why do people do all these things, why do they fear bad luck and devise simple, ingenuous ways to cast it away, I remember the text written on the cover of the photo albums Inoko-San, a former Shin Otoko, had lent me in order to prepare for the festival:

And in all kinds of weather,
For family and friends, it will go on forever.
Innocent on the whole human race
In the world everywhere.

It is beautiful, it is weird, it is crazy, it is poetry and it all makes perfectly no sense.

Not Here Anymore, Not Quite There Yet.

© Hans Kemp, 2008

Thought For Food

Today I had lunch with the Shin Otoko and seven former God-Men. Together with other guests, all men, we sat on traditional tatamis around a long, rectangular shaped table. Conversation was lively, beer and sake flowed freely. Mr. Tomoyoshi though was quiet, in fact I can’t recall him saying one single word. The specter of events, to unfold in the coming days, was obviously weighing him down.

The food, as always, was exquisite, every dish a feast, not only for the palate but for the eyes as well.

And I?
In the presence of so much divinity I could only indulge in gluttony.

I am mortal after all.

Not Here Anymore Not Quite There Yet.

© Hans Kemp, 2008