Brisbane Camera Group

In this issue, John May shares a personal story which highlights the importance of photography as a record of our lives and our loved ones. John May is a Life Member of BCG and celebrated photographer, particularly well known for his wet process monochrome prints.

If you have a story to share please contact Rebecca.

This is a short story of an experience that we - my wife Joan and I - had on a recent tour of the Baltic States, Russia and Belarus. It was a fully escorted tour which commenced and concluded in Warsaw. There were thirty-six of us, mainly Australians but with a few from the UK and Canada. We were a good-natured group of travelers; we all enjoyed a laugh and each others company.

A few days into the trip we noticed that one of the ladies in the group appeared to be unwell and was not able to come to some meals with her husband, but was still able to travel with the group each day. I had befriended her husband, Paul, and he told us confidentially that Nola was having difficulty sleeping. She was suffering from an incurable disease that caused hardening of the skin and internal organs. Eventually, her organs would shut down resulting in death.

Paul approached me one day and asked me some questions about my photography as he had noticed that I was the only one in the group using a professional style camera. After some discussion he asked for a personal favour: he hoped I could capture a good photograph of Nola. She resisted being photographed and had even refused to be included in family shots with her daughters.

This posed a problem as obviously I could not ask Nola to formally pose for me. A refusal would have been embarrassing for both of us and would certainly make her wary of my intentions every time she saw me with a camera. A subterfuge was necessary.

Joan soon spotted an appropriate photo opportunity. We had stopped at a riverside market south of Minsk, Belarus. Amongst a rather motley collection of stalls peddling smoked trout and eels at exorbitant prices, and fishing nets, there was a larger establishment selling enormous toy dogs with windblown, hairy heads. Joan saw that Nola’s hair style that day was a perfect match for the toy dogs.

I pointed this out to Nola and asked that she help me compose a good picture by standing beside them. To my surprise and relief she agreed and I made a couple of exposures before we were called back to the bus.

As Joan and Nola boarded the bus Nola said, “At least I will have a decent picture to go on my coffin.”

A sad and humbling memory.

John May

Full image of Nola with toy dogs:

Cropped image: