The Unwanted Portrait

By John Kennerdell

Handing out the occasional print, it seems to me, is one small thing we photographers can do in return for our intrusions into the lives of our subjects. It's also its own reward, at least in the corner of the world where I live. Most people hereabouts in rural Southeast Asia have never seen themselves in anything other than random snapshots or a stiff studio portrait. Give them a decent casual headshot and almost always they react with surprise and pleasure.

But this is the story of an exception.

The photo here is one of only two I ever took of this fellow, a moment after we smiled a greeting at each other at a weekly market some years ago. The shot was nothing special, but I liked the guy. He had a look of his own, something jaunty and indomitable. So I printed it up and slipped it into my bag with the other prints I would give out the next week.

As hoped, I found him again. That's when things went wrong. He stared at the photo for a long moment, as if almost unsure who it was. Then, without looking up, he said: "And what do I do with this?"

It was a question nobody had ever asked, and it brought me up short. Well, I started to say, give it to your wife. Then I realized that I'd never seen him with anyone. What if he lived by himself? What indeed would he do with a crinkly, wrinkly replica of his own face? Put it on a wall to make himself feel even older and more alone? Finally I came up with the only thing I could think of. "Maybe your grandchildren would like it," I said. The comment felt lame even as I said it. Kids love gifts from grandparents. But a geezer portrait?

It couldn't have satisfied him, but at least he didn't hand it back. It happens all the time here—you commit a faux pas and people treat you with a quiet graciousness that makes you feel like even more of an oaf.

Whatever he thought of the picture, it seemed to cement a small bond between us. Every week from then on he always made a point of coming over and, in a touchingly un-Asian gesture, shaking my hand. We never talked of much, but more than once he told me he was 79 years old, hale and hearty and still enjoying every day. Until one week when he admitted that no, he wasn't doing so well. It was a statement of fact, nothing else. I saw him a few times more but then, at some point, no more.

Life went on, as it does. I kept returning to the market whenever I was home between travels, still shooting and still occasionally giving out prints, just not to solitary old people. I mean, what had I been thinking?

And then one day I was passing around some prints to the usual general amusement when a pair of young women came up as if on a mission. They began thanking me repeatedly for something I didn't understand. Only when one of them kept saying "Taa...Taa"—Granddad—and I looked into her face did I somehow realize they were talking about this very fellow.

"We have an old wedding photo," she said. "But your picture looks the way we remember him."

So here's to you, Granddad. We barely knew each other but I still smile when I think of you, your hand-rolled cigarettes, your ancient sputtering motorbike, the pleasure you took in having a friend as unlikely as me. Despite your doubts, and mine too, our photograph seems to have found a good home.

John

John Kennerdell, an American who has lived and worked in Southeast Asia for most of his adult life, writes several posts a year for TOP. His website is Indochina Photoelectric. More of his writings for us can be found through the Categories list in the right-hand sidebar.

Original contents copyright 2012 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.

(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.)
Featured Comments from:

Dalen Muster: "Love the shot, and love the story! I had a similar experience in a sense. I was shooting candid portraits of sufferers of dementia in the lock-down section of a rest home. I decided to hang a half-dozen interesting ones in a nearby Starbucks. Within a day or so I received a phone call from the manager of Starbucks stating that there was an incident regarding the daughter of one woman's portrait, and that I needed to call her. Apparently she works nearby that Starbucks, and was in line to order her drink. Unaware that I had displayed the photograph of her mother she was caught by surprise when she saw the photo. She then stepped out of line, and proceeded to weep. I had somehow captured an expression that had not been seen in the years since dementia had overcome her.

"Thankfully she was thankful, and not angry. I gave her the print."

Richard Alan Fox: "Many years ago on a walk with my Plaubel 670 through Greenwich Villiage I happened across the artist Chaim Gross sitting on a chair in font of his studio. I asked if I could do a quick portrait and he agreed, click click and I walked on. I made a print and sent it via USPS; two or three weeks latter I saw his obit in the Times.

"Two months later I received a letter from his widow, Rene Gross, saying that Chaim saw the picture before died and was pleased at what was his last portrait. As he had a decades long relationship with Arnold Newman, I felt proud of the image. The letter continued that oh by the way at his Shiva (a Jewish wake) the portrait was on display and was stolen by a member of the public who came to pay respects, and could I please send another copy. I sent it on and that became the beginning of many photos and portraits I did for the family and the Chaim Gross Museum."

Crabby Umbo: "Love this story...

...Moved into a cheap one-room apartment in the center of the city I live in, starting to get on hard times myself, and keep most of my stuff in a storage space. My building is filled with people of all colors, creeds, and ages, with single retirees a big part of it all. Just to keep sharp, I've started doing 'one-roll' portraits, on 120 film, of people who come out for a few minutes to sit in front of the building or have a smoke. They always let me do it, but think I'm crazy, as 'who wants a picture of me?' I always give them a contact sheet, and they're always surprised at how they look. I get a lot of history of all those 'faces', and hear a lot of interesting things, and like to think I make a few of them happy. Not to put a political spin on it, but more than once I've remarked to friends than my life feels far more interesting than if I'd have moved into a cheap apartment in the far-west, all-white suburbs of my metro area...."

Comments

[Peter Rees]

Thank you! Wonderful picture and story.

[Paul]

There's always a risk in telling some truth about someone, whatever you do. Worse with writing about someone in a journalistic fashion but in doing portraits, I find it's a difficult balance between finding something that appeals to me and flatters the subject enough to make them not hate it.

This is a portrait that got me some nice attention lately. It's of a close friend. She doesn't like it much, her family hates it. I ended up selling a large print to a collector around here. I like the picture quite a bit, but can understand why my friend doesn't like it. I have plenty of other very flattering pictures of her...but this one seems to carry a certain gravitas.

Anyway, always a tough call.

I'm not a big fan of photographs of myself, so I can't complain too much.

[sneye]

What a lovely little story, John. I am a bit shy by nature and always felt quite timid when making photographs of strangers. Still, I am drawn to interesting photographs of people in the public domain. Your story encourages me to approach this subject matter once more. Perhaps it should be my photographic new year resolution.
So, thank you and a happy new year.

[David]

Wow, what a wonderful story, really choked me up. And, in a world that's almost choking on the sheer volume of photographs, the story is a testament to the power of photography. Gorgeous, simply a sparkling, soul filled image.

[Kenneth Tanaka]

A lovely memorable human story to start the year. Thank you for taking time to share it with us, John.

Have a good 2013.

[Thomas Turnbull]

Beautiful

[Bob]

I once caught a candid shot of a local barkeep which I Photoshopped out a distracting background. I really liked how I thought I caught his "look". I gave him a copy as a gift and he felt destroyed! He hated how "old" it made him look(he's 35).I felt bad he hated it so much....I really liked it :)

[Hugh]

A really great post.
Thankyou.

[robert e]

Thanks for sharing a beautiful story.

[Jeff Smith]

This article captures why I am a people photographer and not a landscape photographer.

My best landscapes may generate a positive comment but seldom a request for a copy. On the other my photography of people, especially of children, never fails to please the parent or grandparent who receives them.

I have been the unofficial photographer of the local swim team, basketball team, and the high school golf team. I take photos of my 5th grade Sunday School class, of children in general, and of wedding participants, etc.

I will probably never have an exhibit of my photography, but regularly finding my photographs "exhibited"at high school graduation parties and in the homes of parents and grandparents is the gratest reward of photography for me.

Jeff Smith

[Rick Wilcox]

And a great portrait it is. There is a whole life lived out written on that face.

[Ken White]

Great story. You never know what acts may form a bond between two people.

[Frank]

A very touching story at the moment of the New Year.

Thanks, John.

- Frank

[expiring_frog]

Lovely story, John, and love your work as always. Thank you! And Happy New Year to everyone!

[Fred]

A beautiful story, thank you for that, and have a happy new year!

[Dave]

Nice story -- the first Hollywood ending in the history of TOP?

[Nikhil Ramkarran]

For a few years now I too have been in the habit of giving prints to people whose photo I've taken. This month I had a hard time finding an itinerant vendor I'd take a photo of. His effusive joy at receiving the photo when I finally found him made my year photographically.

Wasn't even a particularly good photo, but I doubt he'd had many photos of himself.

[John Krill]

I don't know if this is allowed but anyway:

Back in 1969 I was in Vietnam with the Marines as a photographer. Here is one story about my experience over there. It's about one village and a Polaroid camera.

http://www.photoessayist.com/vietnam/shorts/interpreter.html

[Jim]

Great story. The irony is more and more people either refuse to allow you to take their picture or, if you do take a candid shot, get extremely angry. The fact that you have a right to take pictures of them or anyone else in a public place is lost in the miasma of some unknown fear that seems to be growing in people's hearts.

[David Bennet]

Perfect story to round out 2012. Touching and easy to relate to.

Happy new year.

[Walter Glover]

It never hurts to revisIt Camera Lucida by Roland Barthes to refresh just how close to home these experiences can be.

[rnewman]

Excellent portrait and story. It, plus the stories it elicited in the comments just show how individual the perception and valuation of an image can be.

[Sarge]

John Kennerdell's B&W portraits of Cambodians today, are as significant to me as the historical bas reliefs in Angkor, carved by Khmer stone masons almost a millennium ago.

Happy New Year to all!

[Armand]

Beautiful story. Thanks for sharing.

Happy New Year.

[Louis]

Wonderful story. Thanks for sharing and inspiring.

[Charles Maclauchlan]

When first making inkjet prints from Tri-X the unusual reflectance issues with inkjet B&W and glossy paper required several attempts to get an acceptable print. One was of a young waitress at a nearby restaurant and when I next saw her I gave her the good print from the group. My daughter who was with me and who knows about these things told me it was "kind of creepy" for me to have so many prints of her (I never knew), so I gave her the rest of the prints as well. Some months later she told me how much she and her extended family enjoyed the prints I had made..."especially the ones that get all shiny in different spots depending on the light."

[Mark]

I too join the above commenters in stating how much I enjoyed that.

As to the elderly, and especially middle aged women not liking what they see in a photo of themselves, I took a workshop given by the late Monte Zucker. He would reply to any women who told him they didn't like the way they looked in a picture he took of them, "Sweetheart, you're gonna love the way you look in that picture five years from now." I've adopted that.

I also like it because I give out my photos for free and always have, never charging. I'm very fortunate in that I don't need the money I might otherwise make and photography is my hobby. I've been subjected to great criticism on forums for doing so, being told I'm taking money out of others' pockets who rely on it as their living.

[Steve Smith]

Which brings me to my next subject: New Years Resolutions. Usually, my New Years Resolution

And this brings me to my current subject for moaning about - It's either New Year or New Year's with an apostrophe. Otherwise you're writing about more than one year.

Some of the Facebook message I have seen are even worse: "Happy New Years" doesn't make much sense!

[MIkal W. Grass]

About 10 or 11 years ago in a very Orthodox section of Jerusalem I took a photo of an old tailor sewing clothes. He was completely oblivious to the fact that I was there.

About 6 months later when I was back in Israel, I, along with a very Orthodox rabbi friend of mine (I do not look the part of an Orthodox Yid so I took my friend who does) found the tailor's shop and presented the framed photo to him. The rabbi explained everything to him in Hebrew. The tailor looked at the photo for a few seconds, then lobbed it onto a pile of clothes and continued with his work. The tailor never said a word to either of us.