Istanbul and the Prairie Wedding
by Keef Charles
A few months ago, I travelled to Istanbul. A fabulous city with a colourful history and cultural diversity; contrasts everywhere. I took many shots; the vast majority in the company of friends. I was asked to write about the city to accompany these but I felt that others were better able to do so. I’ll try again, another time. A time when I can do justice to these new found friends; the city of the river; the trading; the markets and competing calls of the minarets.
I have shots, shots aplenty to accompany such an article but for now I’ll write about something that seemed to pervade the majority of my photos. The ones I’ve chosen this time around.
Smartphones, smartphones...and yet more smartphones!
It shouldn’t be a surprise really; Istanbul is a thriving, largely modern city. I was surprised though; you get so used to seeing them that they become almost invisible. I can’t fathom what was so different this time; why they seemed far more evident and grabbed my attention. I thought it was only when I had got back home and reviewed the shots en masse that I realised fully how often these smartphones were in my frame...but perhaps, they were a subconscious focus.
Don’t get me wrong though. I see, and feel, both sides of the argument. Perhaps in the same way that the city of Istanbul straddles the river Bosporus; to link Asia in the east and Europe in the west...so I feel both sides of the argument about the Smartphone.
To start with, without modern technologies, FB, smartphones and the like ...I wouldn’t have found many of my Likes, Laughs ...and Loves. As sad as that may sound, it’s a fact of modern life.
Moreover,
If,
Through the power of this technology,
..two people
..in separate rooms
..in different countries
..can converse as lovers
It’s not all bad, is it?
People decry the influence of smartphones
Sure..
But then there are televisions, tablets, computers, gaming consoles,
and, and, and...
It’s an excuse not to interact, people say
Tis true but..
Picture this, the breakfast table of yesteryear...
One watching on, perhaps bored and slightly ill at ease
While the other reads the paper,
Other’s hand reaching out to pick up coffee cup, sip and replace
Eyes still glued to the paper
A moment later the arm astretch, bring pages together, pinch the edge of page just read, reopen on page anew...
So to continue the reading
Without regard for partner.
So, I ask...
Was this so different? So different from someone forgotten or ignored because of a Smartphone?
It’s too pervasive; there’s no getting away from it.
Well there is...if you fight the addiction, that adrenaline spike each time it tings. It’s said that endorphins are released at the sound of notifications and alerts. It has become a drug for many.
But you can switch it off...get away. If you fight the addiction.
There is something to be said for the convenience, however:
As a kid growing up we didn’t have a phone...
If you wanted to talk to someone down that heavy black handset, it was a walk out of the house, down to the corner of the street. To the iconic British phone box. Sturdy later model of the Doctor Who Tardis. No longer blue but red. Signal box red.
Hey...
Lucky if you didn’t have to queue in the freezing cold rain.
Lucky if you didn’t have to wait for the soldier’s wife, hungry for more than the occasional letter from the field of action.
Lucky if the stale and acrid smell of urine didn’t assail your nostrils.
Lucky if the huge book of phone numbers listed the one you wanted.
Lucky if that relevant page hadn’t been hurriedly torn out to scribble some note on.
Lucky if the person you were calling was in; no green dot showing them as available.
Lucky if the coins weren’t gobbled up before you’d said what you needed to say, after you finally got through.
Mobile phones, now in the guise of smartphones, are definitely more convenient.
Advances in technology are good in certain other respects too:
I’m put in mind of Mark Knopfler’s Prairie Wedding..
We only knew each other by letter
I went to meet her off the train
When the smoke had cleared and the dust was still
She was standing there and speaking my name
I guarantee she looked like an angel
I couldn't think of what I should say
But when Adam saw Eve in the garden
I believe he felt the selfsame way
Bride to be takes the train, from the east, all the way out west
Taking chance on a new life
All that they had to go on was the letters
What clues lay in the parchment, the ink, the hand?
Were they ghost written? Could some other stranger have leant themselves to the telling?
Least with the phone you can start to build more of a picture
Sense, through the language, the pauses, interruptions, frequency
The words, the sentiment
Feel the longing...and that’s just the messaging
What then the delight when the voice is heard?
Sweet as honey
Accent, dialect, whatever...
Could be anything, some nuance you couldn’t detect simply through written word
Maybe new texture and colour comes with actually hearing...a pause, a sigh, a giggle and nerves
It’s enough to stop your heart for a moment
Just a moment...don’t worry
That’s just the beginning
A few more words and the melting starts
Of one seriously compromised body organ
That’s not to mention the selfies!!
There’s intensity
I love the intensity
It’s like the breath of life
Hot, rasping
Never sure how long it will last.
So often the subject comes up about how these small devices have adversely affected our lives ..and ruined so many shots.
I guess I’m mostly happy with how smartphones have enriched my life. There’s no getting away from the advances of a lover destined to be; I’m ready to embrace.
So...here are my shots.
I’ve always been fascinated by Social Psychology. I love body language, expressions. I was just drawn to Street. So... I got back from an holiday in November ‘16 and had to find an outlet. I’d taken hundreds of shots my family weren’t interested in. What the heck!? Who are they? So... I went online and posted in a Street Club.
That Christmas I got a book on Garry Winogrand.
At the risk of sounding melodramatic, my world changed. I’ve made many friends, near and far. Learnt a phenomenal amount by looking at and analysing others’ photos. Developed a recognisable style and then largely abandoned it; for the sake of artistic growth.
I don’t know what my style is. I’m not sure I want to be categorised.
I do know, however, that I love Street and the friends I have made.
