Driving with Dad

The last photograph I took from my dads car of the fields near my home 2010

Whenever I came home from wherever I’d been Dad would pick me up from the train station. Three of four times a year, home from university or the handful of times when I was working in London or Edinburgh, he would be there waiting by the car. Due to his job the car often changed, but my Dad always seemed the same; handsome, mustachioed, smoking a cigarette, a brief often amused smile at my appearance, a customary greeting of usually no more than a few words then into the car, a turn of the key then off we moved in the direction of home.  

Dad didn’t listen to the radio and was no fan of small talk, probably due to the fact that as a car salesman his days were filled with the stuff. After ten minutes chipping away at a conversation I usually gave up and watched the scenery pass by the window. In the fifteen years that we made these journeys together that scenery seemed to hardly change, day or night it held no promise of a future, it was always that place I’d left behind. I clearly remember the car, motion, the smell of the interior, leather, polish, cigarettes and the pungent orange air freshener combining with Dads aftershave; some Christmas gift dutifully splashed on each morning

No matter the question he managed to dispatch it with an answer of no more than a few words. The silence was like a screen between us and the hum of the engine our only audible companion.  As we neared home the scenery gave way to open fields, the fields of my youth. Then the long straight road that passed my old school, sitting on the darkening hilltop offering a brief glimpse of the past. Slowing into a turn, tires on a gravel road, headlights illuminating a small row of houses, my mum silhouetted in the big bay window. Home again.

Instagram memories of Pollenca

                                                   Hiding out in the sun  Pollenca Mallorca 2014

Liberty

                                                                                       Liberty  Trnava 2010

I’d been working on a project for about a year when a friend said he would take me to see something funny. On the way he told me how in the 1990’s Slovakia was overrun with mafia, and one boss obsessed with New York decided to display his status so he commissioned a statue, which was made and installed in pride of place atop his headquarters. Days after its unveiling he was dead, shot by a rival gang.  We pulled into the parking lot, I saw the statue and we both just started laughing.

Otto

                                                                             Otto Machac, Bratislava 2014

Curiosity can be paper thin and without true feelings and passion it is easily blown away, then the few scribbles we made on it will surely be forgotten.

 When we met, Otto had just returned from France, having been there to commemorate the 70th anniversary of the Normandy landings. For many years Otto had been a paratrooper and was honored to have made his most recent jump from a Hercules transporter plane over the skies of Normandy during that very celebration.  Otto was born after the war in 1949, though his uncle had been in the O.S.S.during wartime and was one of the many Slovaks that played an influential part in the D Day landings, Otto grew up during socialism where the freedom his uncle had fought for had been replaced by communist rule. So when the tanks came in 1968 he left Slovakia for West Germany and didn’t return until after the revolution 30 years later.

Before he left Otto had been a graphic designer making screen printed posters for the national theatre. He showed me some of his posters and paintings, that thanks to his neighbors efforts were kept safe from the authorities when he emigrated. On his return to Slovakia his involvement in Radio Free Europe put him under scrutiny from the state intelligence service, something he brushes off though his study filled with memorabilia mostly from that time, illuminates a feeling of pride and is testament to his generosity and spirit.

Sitting in his kitchen with a coffee, he lights up a cigarette and talks of how in their late teens he and his friends would go ‘tramping’ to the forest with backpacks, playing and singing their versions of popular American songs on guitars round a campfire, drinking and dreaming of a different life. Though many friends from his generation  have passed away or are still scattered around the world, a handful still manage to meet regularly in the forest and sit round a fire singing the songs of their youth.

 He talks about the book he has spent 5 years researching and writing, about his uncles life, although there are countless volumes on D Day and WW2, his is a more personal, contemplative yet hopefully educational project. He recently gave a university talk and was overwhelmed at the large number of students in attendance, like many of his generation Otto seeks to preserve and make available his experience of socialism, the lead up to the Russian invasion and the post revolution fall out.

Before I leave he tells me he will take me tramping and I can meet his friends, we can sit around the fire and sing songs together. I feel richer and lighter of heart for the time spent and I hope my curiosity and its subsequent scribbles won't be forgotten 

the finishing off a roll story part one

                                                                       To Kamzik Bratsislava Winter 2014

Sometimes, trying to get it right with one exposure can be a challenge, especially when its a portrait of someone you know well, but in an odd situation. So feeling that I had 2 possible potraits from 9 frames I had to try make something with shot 10, the last on the roll. More than 2 weeks had gone by with me wanting to see if either of my two possibles was a definite. Then on Monday there was a slight break in the fog that seemed to have been around for the whole weekend, so I chanced a walk up to Kamzik hoping I might get lucky. On the way through the forest I came to a clearing and 50 yards to my right I saw the cross. Just as I stopped to take in the scene weak sunlight flickered through the carpet of leaves and the cross seemed to light up. I quickly managed to put the camera together and  fix it to the tripod and take that last frame. A few seconds later, the light went out for the rest of the day.

Voila Viola

                                                                  Koliba Autumn 2014

My favorite walk down to the city

                                                                                        from Koliba autumn 2014

I have been living on the hill in Koliba for a few years. Though it is only 6 minutes by public transport to the city centre, here you feel as though you are many miles away. This small settlement has expanded disproportionately over the last 20 years and is now home to an ever increasing menagerie of moneyed families with diversely designed homes and the main road is a non stop stream of trucks and speeding cars. I prefer to walk to the city, through the forest and down a little dirt path over the train tracks. It presents a peaceful alternative and a good view of the contrast between what was and what is. Time to breath and ample time to adjust.

Ondrejsky Cememtary

                                                                                                             autumn 2014

Ondrejský Cintorin (Andrews Cemetery) is a historic cemetery a short walk from Bratislava city centre. Founded in 1784 it originally belonged to the parish of St. Martin. Burials there ceased in the 1950’s and it was declared a national cultural monument in 1988.

During the socialist era the cemetery gradually fell into a state of deterioration and records from 1966 certify that it had 15,000 tombstones.  Reconstruction took place from1976 to 1980 with the aim to transform the site into a cemetery park but unfortunately this process had a negative impact as many of the gravestones, graves and crypts were removed or destroyed. The perimeter wall was also partially demolished and replaced with a socialist style concrete facade. Many of the original ornamental trees and plants that provided shade and a buffer against traffic noise were also removed, though in the years since, the existing vegetation has fleshed out and once again created an environment for solitude and contemplation.

A  Greek style temple representing the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, designed by Ignac Feigler ml was built in 1861 and individual graves, crypts and tombstones bear witness to the Neo-Renaissance style, neo-Gothic style and more modern classicist style. It is the final resting place of many noble families, burghers, representatives of city nobility, secular and spiritual leaders, city residents, military commanders and various artists and celebrities.

To me the cemetery is a place of calm, where I can sit and think. I go there to read during summer in the cool shade of ancient trees, surrounded by the names of long forgotten loved ones, I often read the gravestones and wonder what kind of life no matter how short and how different these people led, and how great a testament to the importance of a life lived is this peaceful monument. Once a year during All Saints day the cemetery is aglow in the romantic light of thousands of candles, graves garnished with Chrysanthemums as  family generations shuffle around in the cold paying respects to those who have departed.

seeing something new

                                                                                                 Bratislava zoo 2014

I have been living in Bratislava for 10 years and like to think I know the city reasonably well. That said I had never been to the zoo until this summer. I went with a friend and his 3 year old son. Nat loves animals and has a large collection of plastic animals at home. But he never goes anywhere without the large dinosaur his dad brought him back from a visit to Canada. Well as we arrived at the entrance to the zoo Nat saw the life size dinosaur and was transfixed, apparently that's the favorite part of his zoo visit and he prefers to spend at least 30minutes walking around it and touching it. As I watched him I thought about how children can get so much pleasure and surprise from something that they have encountered countless times, yet even though they know something is there, they still find in it something new and original. They have an innate ability to see something new in a situation they know well, A great lesson for all of us.

places lost in reverie

                                                                                                 Koliba autumn 2014

So much of the fabric of our existence is textural and made from direct contact with nature, our friends and with others. Yet our eyes can see beyond this, and seek out the truth in things. They can question and judge, express love and pain, and allow us the option to decide

So many real moments hidden within memories, so much time spent unraveling it; the sound of nostalgia, the flickering of images, and the drift to somewhere else. Time is not lost, time is spent.

Clarity would serve as a better answer than wisdom does. Small changes are more significant than the big ones. We do value things better from a distance, and our relationship with others is an extension of the one we have with ourselves. Our relationships become stages on a voyage to find an answer, to find a destination, to find beauty.

Just as how a reflection in a still pond can carry more beauty than its mirror reality, we can witness beauty as an illusion. But beauty has a state of mind, it has energy and it needs feeding. It sets our senses free, gives them legs to run, it fires our imagination and it invigorates our soul. It nurtures our love for this life.

three

the treasure

autumn 2014

As I will be leaving Slovakia early next year, I have decided to start a small personal project. I want to photograph some of the people and places that I have encountered as both a record or document and to see if there is a connection between the pictures. To see how one small idea can lead to the next one, not to over think and edit before I even start but go with my feeling and trust my instincts. I am using a old Mamiya universal 6x7, so with only 10 shots per roll and a limited budget I hope to capture these feelings with clarity and economy.

me and my shadow

marks on the sky

Karadicova Bratislava 2011

Paris

Carry Me To a Better Place

It's difficult. It's very tough.
I said to the man who'd been sleeping rough
To sit within a fragrant breeze
All among the nodding trees
That hang heavy with the stuff

He threw his arms around my neck
He brushed the tear from my cheek
And held my soft white hand
He was an understanding man
He did not even barely hardly speak

Easy money
Rain it down on the wife and the kids
Rain it down on the house where we live
Rain until you got nothing left to give
And rain that ever-loving stuff down on me

All the things for which my heart yearns
Gives joy in diminishing returns
He kissed me on the mouth
His hands they headed south
And my cheek it burned

Money, man, it is a bitch
The poor, they spoil it for the rich
With my face pressed in the clover
I wondered when this would be over
And at home we are all so guilty-sad

Easy money
Pour it down the open drain
Pour it all through my veins
Pour it down, yeah, let it rain
And pour that ever-loving stuff down on me

Now, I'm sitting pretty down on the bank
Life shuffles past at a low interest rate
In the money-coloured meadows
And all the interesting shadows
They leap up, then dissipate

Easy money
Easy money
Easy money
Rain it down on the wife and the kids
Rain it down on the house where we live
Rain it down until you got nothing left to give
And rain that ever-loving stuff down on me

"Easy Money" Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

untitled #1

A Week of Buildings 3 4 and 5

Kolarovo Namestie Bratislava 2006


Burned Building Šamorin 2007


Orange Bratislava 2006

A Week of Buildings ( Day 3 )

Jelačičova Bratislava 2007

A Week of Buildings (day 2)

Palkovičova Bratislava 2005

A Week of Buildings ( Day 1)

Staré Pres Centrum Bratislava 2007

Morning Yearning

Kameňe Namestie Bratislava 2005

I have realized that to finish the collection of pictures for my book I need to start getting up at sunrise again. Walking the streets in the half dark before dawn, gives me the chance to get a lot done before noon.

At this time of year when the light comes it is strong and clean. It cuts through the narrow city streets and paints rich black shadows on every surface. The remnants of the night before hanging around before the new day progresses it away.

School

Palkovičova Bratislava 2007

I have only once in the twenty four years since I left, been back to my old school. The occasion was to see a school play and I was struck by how small everything was: desks, chairs, classrooms and teachers. All shrunk by the magic combination of time and adulthood.

This school yard is in the neighborhood I lived in for the first couple of years after I arrived here. It is a primary school and I used to hear the kids playing during morning break. Screaming and running around chasing each other. The sound echoing off the walls of the surrounding apartments . Weekends and evenings the area would be quiet, the school deserted except for the painted footprints dancing on the broken concrete playground.

Reconstruction Race (4 Views)

clyde & bonnie

Palkovičova Bratislava 2007

Friendship

Train tracks Chemicka Bratislava 2007

Friendship like train tracks running straight and parallel heading for the horizon. The view becomes obscured and the reality is altered. The tracks once inseperable, part and change course for different destinations. We have our alloted time with one another, a time of learning and growing. A journey.

Friendship is neither about asking nor is it about replying. It is merely an understanding. When we stop understanding we become like the train tracks: still solid and straight yet inevitably headed for different destinations.

Friendship is a lot harder to make than it is to break. It resembles an out bound journey filled with unknown promise but often unfortunately with no return ticket.

House of Culture

Dom Kultura Bratislava 2005

A Life Less Ordinary - Anton Podstrásky

Photo by Miro Miklas

On Monday 21st August at 16.37 I received an s.m.s. from my friend. ‘Tonko is dead” Everything stopped for a few seconds. My memory took over.

“Tonko”, Anton Podstrásky was arguably the best Slovak street photographer of his generation. A man who lived in the moment, a working class connoisseur of the human spirit. He focused his lens on the ordinary, the downtrodden and the ignored. His studio was the city streets, the market at Miletičova and various krčmas (cheap bars)in Bratislava. His subjects were societies rich tapestry of manual workers, alcoholics and misfits. His perfectly preserved photographic archive remains as both his gift and memento.

For a street photographer to be in the right place at the right time requires luck. It takes a great deal of sacrifice, self belief and patience to walk the streets daily, literally waiting for that briefest moment when something special jumps out from the seamless flow of ordinary life, like seeing a fish leap from beneath the surface of a fast moving river. Tonko’s photographs are a testament to that: A life less ordinary.
Chain smoking, hard drinking Tonko was never simply a voyeur, his life on the other side of the lens was with the very people who fill the frame of his photographs. The struggle to survive combined with the pressure to create. At times Tonko shone. There was a party and he was the host. At that time maybe with the influence of an appreciative critical force on him he might had become a household name.

In the last years of his life even though Tonko suffered great physical pain he managed weekly trips to Mileticova market to raise a glass among the remaining friends, memories and ghosts of his life. It was there more than a year ago that my friend seeking out Tonko hopefully as the subject for his Bachelor of arts thesis on photography found him. Tonko invited us to his home to look through his archive and instantly we realized what an amazing treasure we had found in both the man and his work. Reacting instinctively and with utmost empathy we selected and printed images from his archive and made an exhibition for him in the city. His first exhibition in a decade. Public response was overwhelmingly positive not only from Slovaks but also from world wide visitors.
Tonko sat at his opening surrounded by his photographs with a smile on his face and a tear in his eye. The subsequent weeks brought more pain and suffering, Tono was rushed to hospital where one of his legs had to be amputated. Infections and more operations followed. He was sent home and cared for by his friends. With his intelligence, strong will and humour intact, he was still pushed in a wheelchair to his spiritual home: Mileticove market. The last time I saw Tonko he was sitting under the shade of an old tree at the end of my street. Newspapers tucked between his thigh and the side of his wheelchair, a cigarette in one hand and the remains of a half litre plastic bottle of white wine in the other. On recognition of us his tired face lit up with the briefest flash of genuine love. He shared a joke with us, we smoked a cigarette and said goodbye.

Thank you Tonko for your gift to us: That to truly live the Life Less Ordinary you must never give up.

Lavagance

A few years ago a friend of mine introduced me to the music of Lavagance. Instantly I felt something, it was loose, sexy rock and roll with equal amounts of attitude, talent and raw energy. Unfortunately I wasn't able to photograph them for my "Memento" project (young artists and musicians originally for id magazine) three years ago but after various brief encounters over coffee or beer I was invited to visit their studio to begin documenting the recording process of their new album. Its a great privilege to be around music in its making and to spend time with genuine ego free musicians who's verve for life is translated into the music that will inevitably define them.