Monochrome Chronicles #05: Existential States

This installment of the Monochrome Chronicles may be a bit off the track. Let me explain, starting with the title “Existential States.” Some readers may have an impression already what will be the subject of these photographs. Abandon any preconceived ideas. I’ll explain what I mean by existential states in due course.

Next I need to explain how this series came to be. Street photography was a major influence for me, especially during my early ventures in photography. This influence came about from two directions. One was via discussion of street photography in my courses at ICP and my reading about the work of famous street photographers. The other was actual practice – just go out onto the streets and start shooting. My experience with street photography started in NYC, continued after I moved to Japan, and influenced me as I began exploring other areas of Asia.

An unexpected trend crept in as I continued my attempts at street photography. Some of the images just didn’t fit the definition of street photography. I found them to be provocative but out of scope. Finally came the time when I started to review my street work retrospectively. Again some of the images remained outliers. This was difficult for me to comprehend. Late one evening the answer came to me. The people in these images were experiencing variations of the existential state. This concept began to flourish and the series “Existential States” emerged.

Let me add that existentialism is an enigma to me. That is not an apology, just an admission. Probably my first introduction to existentialism occurred when I discovered the work of Tennessee Williams in the mid-1970s. The beauty of Williams’ writing drew me into his world and yet the essence of his most poignant characters seemed to elude me. His dramas finally began to make sense after I read a review by one critic who claimed that Williams’ characters were haunted by existential feelings.

Similarly, some of the images from my street photography make more sense to me when I view them as representing existential states. I need to qualify that claim. How can I describe the images in terms of existential states when I’ve already admitted that existentialism is an enigma to me? Isn’t that an inconsistency? No, it is my dilemma. I define “existential states” according to my own interpretation. Some of the things I’ve seen on the streets in NYC and elsewhere, and some of the things I’ve experienced there make sense to me only in the observation “What is, is.” That is my definition of existential states.

Another element of the existential state is the belief that a person exists only in himself, only as an individual. That would seem to be impossible in cities like NYC with its population of some 8 million people, Tokyo (20 million) or Bangkok (11 million). But the aloneness of the existential state is psychological, not physical.

The existential state is difficult for me to describe in words. Maybe my photographs will express it more clearly.

The actual, physical content of this photograph needs no description except maybe to note that the crow’s head is not visible – maybe tucked under its body or maybe missing altogether, which renders the image ominous. In my mind’s eye, the crow becomes a symbol. The symbol could take various forms: the impermanence of life; an animal struck down in its prime; or the beauty of the color black in the context of black-and-white.
The location was a cemetery in Tokyo. The addition of one word, “cemetery” to the description re-directs the interpretation as a symbol. Absent that word, the image would contain no clues to the context.
For me, this is a very moving photograph. Emotionally moving. The splay of the wings suggests flight, as if the bird had been struck down in mid-flight. Life is fragile. One element of existentialism.
How odd it may seem to take a photograph of a dead crow, and especially in the context of a cemetery. The photograph is the result of a chance encounter. The motivation came from my little voice. Just a brief encounter turned into a lasting impression through the medium of black-and-white photography.

In an entirely different context, at first glance this might seem to be a straightforward view of a building front at night. Closer examination would reveal several levels of interpretation. The camera angle is off kilter, suggesting a distortion of reality. The key element of the image is the shadows rather than the building itself. The shadow of the fire escape ladder seems ominous. It could represent either escape or surreptitious entry. The vague shadows on the brick walls add a hint of mystery. This is a moment of suspended time.

Clear ambiguity. On the surface, this is simply a representational image. Further description would seem superfluous. On another level, it could be an abstract image. On reflection, though, in the absence of context something here is unexplained. It just exists, and therein is the existential state.
The other element of the photograph is the contradiction between stasis and motion. Such states cannot exist in isolation. Movement exists only in relation to a stationary condition. Movement also implies the passage of time.
This understated image lures the viewer’s imagination. Like many expressive photographs, it is deliberately ambiguous.

Autumn, probably the weekend. Many middle-aged men were dozing on the park benches under the midday sun in Washington Square Park. I wondered whether they were clients of the nearby methadone clinic. Don’t misinterpret my comment; no one has the right to judge another person; no one. The sunlight suffuses these images, transforming what otherwise would be a mundane scene into something painterly. It tends to mask the underlying story, which is revealed by the men’s body language and gestures.

The existentialism in these images stems from an element my own definition: “What is, is.” At the other end of the spectrum, these images might well depict nirvana and, if so, then who could resist? Here the temptation of titillation has turned into reality. And that is existential enough for me.

In an entirely different context, this photograph speaks of despair. It is almost too difficult to write about this image. The who, the what, the when, and the where, all become irrelevant, leaving only the why.
At the time I took this shot, I couldn’t…didn’t want to…get closer to find out more about this situation. My reaction at the time was that maybe he had AIDS and had been abandoned by his family. Now I can imagine other scenarios, like drug addiction or homelessness.
The existential state becomes a glaring reality in this photograph. It is an extremely powerful image that raises some ethical questions without a hint of any answers. It raises the long-standing photographer’s dilemma: should I only record this scene, or should I try to intervene?
This photograph is difficult for me to witness even now, 7 years later. It is a vivid evocation of the existential state.

This image would work well as an urban landscape, I think, but in another context maybe it symbolizes the existential state that subway riders occupy. The scene is atypical in NYC for the absence of people and the absence of litter or graffiti. The steel girders, the white tiles on the walls, the regular progression of the ceiling design, and the bright lighting, all these factors hint that this would be a safe place as a retreat, though of course it is not. An unusual image of the subway compared to the stereotypical image of a crowded, noisy, dirty and dangerous place.

Riding the subway was an alien experience for me when I first moved to the city. The noise, the smells, the litter and graffiti, not to mention the complexity of the subway lines and the maps, all combined to make a ride on the subway a disconcerting experience. I soon became accustomed to it. The man in this photograph seems to portray the bewilderment of a newcomer or possibly the anxiety of ethnic minorities. This, too, is an element of the existential state that many New Yorkers face.

With time and experience, the bewilderment of the subway experience abates. Always a sense of wariness remains, a necessary urban skill. People riding the subway can never really let their guard down. These two passengers seem to have moved forward into a state of wariness tinged with a hint of menace. “Don’t mess with us,” seems to be their message. On the other hand, their knees were touching, giving a subliminal suggestion of the uncertainty about being in unfamiliar territory.

The NYC subway is a reality. Passengers on the subway, on the other hand, sometimes occupy an existential state. As a fellow passenger, I can either just observe or ignore those around me. As a photographer, the other passengers become part of my existence. This passenger, well maybe he was just tired, but then again his body language suggests a deeper state. Life in the city can be extreme at times. I can only imagine this man’s existential state. Therein is the photographer’s prerogative: I can interpret the situation as I want, and be unfettered by reality.

Hidden underground in NYC is the subway, in essence merely a means of transportation. Passengers there learn to block out the negative side of the subway and enter the straphanger’s existential state. Still, maybe they can feel a sense of relief when they get to their destination and exit back into the world above ground. For some passengers, the above-ground world is just another kind of existential space.

The subtheme here could be “you can’t go home again” (with apologies to Thomas Wolfe). By 2014 when I took this photograph, I had been away from the city for just over ten years. Maybe I could take in the city from a more objective point of view. For the elderly and for ethnic minorities, life in the city presents additional challenges for their daily lives, making their existential states more complicated.

During my ventures in Southeast Asia, I encountered people experiencing what I perceive to be existential space. I have to be careful to qualify that statement. As a foreigner, as an outsider, understandably I would perceive many things as “different,” things that local residents would perceive as “same, same.” I have to remind myself that mine are merely observations, and not judgements. To take this logic one step further, it would be impossible for me to recognize the existential state under such conditions. With that caveat, let me show you some images that, to me, hint at such states.

Bangkok has become for me like a second home, sometimes as a destination and sometimes as a stop-over. Bangkok’s Chinatown continues to intrigue me as alien place within a foreign city. Chinatown’s main street usually is brightly lit with neon signs and thronged with people – locals and tourists alike. Just a mere block away, though, is an entirely different world, a second-hand-goods night market that also is home to many street people. The sidewalks are dimly lit and eerily quiet despite the traffic on the streets.

This man seemed to be living perpetually in his existential state. His bony torso, his emaciated and emotionally vacant face speak volumes. I sometimes wonder whether he was living in a vacuous state rather than an existential state.

Homeless people occupy these streets, too. This man, though, seems to inhabit a space far beyond homeless. His world, at least as I imagine it, might be a perpetual existential existence. Even while I’m writing this I am aware of being perilously close to making a judgement, but that is far from my intention. My interpretation here would be, “What is, is.”

My feeling about both these images from Bangkok’s Chinatown is one of approach-avoidance. I have, at least by certain standards, broken social and cultural taboos. That doesn’t bother me, or maybe I can say that stepping across taboos somehow validates me. My take on these photographs is different. For me, photography is a means of exploration. These men exist. That is sufficient cause for me to create these photographs.

My Alice-through-the-rabbit-hole experience on Charoen Krung Road, far off the beaten path in Bangkok. The atmosphere in this gloomy marketplace, which had been carved out of old shophouses, was markedly distinct from the sunny, noisy, crowded sidewalk stalls of the sidewalk market just outside. There in the indoor market this man was quietly reading a newspaper. This photograph has an almost surreal feeling.

The existential state is ubiquitous. Many of the photographs in this installment of the Monochrome Chronicles have been heavy, dark depictions from urban life. This image, perhaps, will serve as a reminder that the existential state assumes many forms.
A literal description might be that this is a tired passenger waiting at a bus stop. The soft focus and the aura of ethereal light lead to alternative interpretations. One would be that even younger people sometimes experience the existential state. None of us is immune to it. It just exists.

My concept of the existential state, at least when I lived in NYC. The strength of this image is its simplicity. Parallel lines. Gradation from pure white to pure black through varying shades of gray. And yet, within the frame are many irregularities, too. The roughness of the stucco wall. The gradation of light on the wall from warm gray to cool black. The two scalloping lines, the lower one (the shadow) taking a dip as it passes the window. The lamp by the window and the pipe at the bottom introduce a mechanical element into the scene.

The message from this photograph could be stability and strength. On the other hand, I find a conundrum here. The wall, the window and the door could be keeping people inside. Or they could be preventing outsiders from entering. The atmosphere could be either comforting or threatening. Therein lies the existential state that is life in NYC.

Later, much later, I embarked on another, related series entitled “The Hole in the Universe,” which will appear in a subsequent chapter. I’m not sure I can explain how the two series are related, and fortunately I don’t have to explain. I suspect the explanation resides somewhere deep inside me, a subconscious influence on my photography.

Well, enough about me. My objective for the Monochrome Chronicles is to show you glimpses of what I’ve seen and where I’ve been, while following my camera and heeding my little inner voice. The photographs in this installment certainly fulfill that goal. A small part of me wishes to explore this terrain more deeply. Just wait for the episode “The Hole in the Universe” to see what else I’ve uncovered.

Gallery: Existential States

Monochrome Chronicles #05: Existential States

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