BWW 001: How To Learn From Children (a vignette from Cheek, Texas)
Friday, October 30, 2009 at 1:57AM [Images below...] I’ve worked with kids in a few countries and have learned a dimension beyond “cute” and well beyond the strict documentary photography that we unwittingly (but most often) ask of them, e.g. asking a Brasilian kid to shoot ‘life in the favela’ versus sending them explicitly to find something beautiful or interesting (...tira foto de alguma coisa que você acha legal). I challenge them to see if we can achieve art and the process gives new eyes to my own work. Besides, if art has all the power we ascribe to it, then why not seek that?
First things first, though: I’m not curmudgeoning. I love documentary photography, too. Further, kids are [ital “are”] cute. I’ll never lose enjoying the sight of people who have the luxury of learning without some of the jaded filters we adults have. Little hands on big cameras, lot of questions, the pure stoke of “I did it myself!”
After this point, we should put ourselves in the minds of kids and start there to learn. They’re not aiming to be cute – perhaps not counting the over-managed stage star or the über-fussed-over neighborhood young ‘un. So don’t treat them with cute gloves. They will be happier in the end, seeing their work – way happier than after any compliment you give them. (I think they know when they’re being humoured.) So, I asked my little cousins Amorie and Jordan to figure a way to take a photo above the small plot of okra taller than their heads …and then watched them wrestle until they got it.
There’s also a peculiarity of the instrument itself. I’m not a luddite. I dig images that come from anything. But I found my 1950 Kodak Brownie Hawkeye and have used it exclusively for the last 5 years and have seen it offer some funky new avenues for exploration. As is often the case with any other technology of ours, we never really exhaust it: We simply move on, as we should, but also for the lesser reason that we simply want something new. There is infinity within the “outdated” parameters of any instrument, the same as between points on a number line.
Nuff preaching. Let’s see what Amorie and Jordan came up with. I asked them to take a picture of some trees in the distance, just beyond a patch of tall-growing okra:
"Getting Ready..."
This is the joy of photography that I also have. But mine's derivative. There’s a type of eye and enthusiasm that we have only when we are at this age. Here, Amorie and Jordan have quickly mastered loading the film and advancing the frames. ...hence the smile!
Amorie and Jordan Take Aim"
Amorie and Jordan, after a little wrangling to figure out how to take a picture of the trees that lie beyond the okra growing behind them, discover how the viewfinder extends their vision. Note: They’re in Cheek, Texas of course. In case you don't know where that is, it's right next to China, Texas. Okra in the background. The family picked a whole lot of it that day.
"The Shots"
Side by side (and with a little mindtilt), these two have made a panoramic landscape worth sharing. I wish you could have seen their faces when they saw these! (Amorie saw the images and asked her mom, "I want it: How do I get it out of the computer?")
What do I get from all of this? I learn how to solve problems. They didn't notice how hard they were working to get the trees into the frame of the camera. The "Aha!" moment of raising above their heads was all their own.
I'm also reminded of what it is to maintain singular focus as they frame their shots, mixing hard work and joy in one moment. My own work has been made better. Thanks, Amorie and Jordan.
Reader Comments (1)
Beautiful shots... just as they are, one next to the other...
Made me smile...