Tragicocomedia

Taj Mahal from Agra, March 20, 2010

Most views of the Taj Mahal are from inside the complex – looking down the long rectangular, reflective pool towards the magnificent 17^th century mausoleum to Mumtaz, wife of Mughal Emperor, Shah Jahan. This is the most obvious, symmetrical and, perhaps, from a certain perspective, the most pleasing way to view the Taj Mahal. Yet, as a colossal monument which far outdoes in size and scale anything in its immediate vicinity, it is visible from a considerable distance and can be seen towering above the comparatively low-rise city of Agra, beside which it sits.

The first shot presented here shows the Taj Mahal from the town of Agra – more specifically, from the roof of my hotel. I only came to appreciate this shot on closer study – the cascading diagonals of the buildings and walls in the mid and foreground create zig-zagging vectors which lead the eye down from the top to the bottom – or, perhaps the other way if you’re so inclined. The Taj Mahal itself, sitting atop these utilitarian concrete boxes, is like the crown of the image – even if something of a distant phantom through the heavy smog. It has strong connotations of the stratification of Indian society – at the bottom, the poor, the quotidian, exemplified by the shabby buildings and single, solitary figure – and at the top – unimaginable decadence and wealth, like a hazy dream of heaven.

Taj Mahal on the River Yamuna, March 20, 2010

What is not often shown is that the Taj Mahal actually sits on a river – the Yamuna – which lies immediately behind the mausoleum itself. The presence of the river and the wide, open space it creates with its flat, shallow banks, allows beautiful views of the Taj Mahal, especially from the nearby Agra Fort. I’ve included two other views, both taken from Agra Fort, to show this different side to the Taj Mahal. As a backdrop, it creates a very powerful effect, and, when simply viewed as a riverside monument – it loses the protection of its orderly gardens and is forced into juxtaposition with natural asymmetry. Fortunately, however, the building is so organic in its soft curving, bosom-like domes and its thrusting phalluses, as to find a harmonious balance with nature. In a nutshell, whichever way you look at the Taj Mahal, it works.

Taj Mahal from Agra Fort, March 20, 2010

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Parker’s Piece, Cambridge, July 9, 2006

This photo seems ostensibly to be a celebration, yet what draws me to it is a mild sense of loneliness and isolation. The solitary figure, with arms folded, watches the firework with studious interest, a certain patience and mild curiosity, as though supervising the phenomenon to ensure nothing out of the ordinary happens. The absence of other onlookers, the wan sky and soft palette all add to the loneliness of the photo, yet the onlooker does not seem lonely. Indeed, there is a sense that, friends or otherwise, they were, in an unhurried manner, quietly determined to go down to Parker’s Piece and set off a firework or two.

Clearly, this is a handheld shot and it was fortunate that the brightness of the firework arrested the exposure before too much of the background was lost to unfocussed blur. I’m never especially confident about out of focus shots – is it an accidental masterpiece, or just a poor photograph? Sometimes it can be difficult to be sure. In this case, however, perhaps in the way that a poem operates more indirectly, it has strong mood and atmosphere, precisely on account of its nature. Even then, it was another case of a friend’s comment on facebook when I posted this in 2007, which convinced me that what has since become a personal favourite, was a good one.

G’s comment also adds a nice little anecdote, on which note I conclude:

This… also reminds me in a pleasing way of those Bonfire Night paintings everyone did at school (everyone in England anyway, even at convent schools). The ones where you got your mind blown by being given a piece of BLACK paper, on which you had to make your mark with lighter coloured chalks or paint. A topsy turvy world! And if you wanted a silhouetted figure like this, you had to just be really careful to leave a space.

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Relaxed Goat, Galwar Bagh Monkey Temple, Japiur, March 21, 2010

Expressing a fondness for goats these days is a bit like telling people you breathe oxygen. It seems that everyone has discovered the beauty and wonder of goats. Be it through their gorgeous goggle eyes or eminently strokeable ears, goats have entered the affections of most who inhabit the internet. Perhaps this is inevitable. That more than ten thousand years co-evolution, since the dawn of animal husbandry when we first began to shepherd goats, has inclined us to like them.

Without any desire to boast, I can say that in truth I have long been a goat fancier. For me, it’s always been about the ears – the way they hang like the frame of a bob. There’s little doubt that one of life’s great pleasures is to stroke the silky ears of a beast – I strongly recommend dachshunds. Of course, it goes without saying that the eyes and smile of a goat are marvellous to behold, yet without the ears, I doubt the overall effect would be quite so sweet.

This particular beauty was just chilling on a concrete bench, with a sleepy, almost nonchalant insouciance. I would never have dreamed of disturbing such expressive, almost sultry repose and left it alone to enjoy the afternoon sunshine. I can’t help but mention how goats’ teats look like Kibbeh – tell me it isn’t so!

This shot was taken on the outskirts of Jaipur, by the gate at the foot of the hill atop which sits the monkey temple, Galwar Bagh. As is typical of India, there was a splendid selection of animals about the place: piglets, dogs, monkeys, cows and goats – a veritable open air petting zoo. I was very pleased to get this shot, with its great contextual colour continuity, which highlights the shiny blackness of the goat.

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“My life is a counter-point, a kind of fugue and a falling away – and everything winds up being lost to me, and everything falls into oblivion, or into the hands of the other man” – Jorge Luis Borges. Bergamo, March 3, 2007

Bergamo was but a brief stop on the way to Como and beyond – a convenient destination in northern Italy courtesy of Ryan Air’s seemingly endless expansion. Situated at the base of the foothills of the Italian Alps, to the north of the flat plains of the Veneto – the hips of Italy’s leg, if you will – Bergamo was welcomingly dry and bright after some variable early spring weather in England. I recall very little about Bergamo, outside the photographs I took, and don’t remember how I arrived at this point, aside from taking a bus into town from the airport. I can only assume I was drawn to this vantage point from the views it promised to offer. Tired as always on day one of a trip from having had next to no sleep the night before, I felt almost high and elated from the bright light and elevation.

It was around 1030 in the morning and, being a Saturday, the town had a pleasingly slow pace to it. There were plenty of people about, but no one was in a hurry. The air was cool enough for most to be wrapped in coats, yet the sun had a clear, if entirely dry warmth to it – a welcome break from damp. This acropolis of sorts was a favoured place for people taking their constitutionals. A couple of old gents played chess, women waited as their lap dogs sniffed at things and some cool kids smoked cigarettes with the carefree air of not having anything else to do. Initially I had been impatient to get on my way to Como, yet the welcome sunshine and sense of space held me in thrall for a few hours.

This remains my favourite photo from that brief visit. Whilst I liked it from the start, as with so many photos, it wasn’t until, on Facebook, my friend Chris appended it with the quote contained in the caption that I really came to appreciate it. Sometimes, even when confident about a piece of work, it takes a second opinion to convince myself that I do truly like it. The quote from Borges may not actually suit the narrative of this old gent’s life, but it certainly goes well with the image, and for that I have Chris to thank. Cheers, buddy.

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