Eight Years

 
"Did you get some tea?
Let me get you some tea!"

"Did you get something to eat?
Let me get you some food!"

This is how things have gone now for the eight years that I have been photographing the culture of the Tibetan community in Seattle.  People are forever trying to feed me, to be kind.

"Thank you for always being here for us."

It seems like a lifetime ago that I began this project.  Young couples in the community have had babies, and elders have passed away.  I have gone from being an outsider, a stranger with a camera, to "Kurt la"  ("la" in Tibetan culture is a form of address that conveys respect, as in "Tashi la,"  or  "Tsering la.") 

But the pictures I make are not about me, and I try to walk the fine line of presence.  I can do the best and most honest work when people just ignore me.  But the reality of human interaction is that photographic "subjects" feel most comfortable when the "photographer" does not hide his or her human-ness.

When someone offers you tea, you smile and say thank you:  too-je-che.

I thought I'd share some recent pictures.

Seeing Tradition

One evening nearly every month members of the Tibetan community in Seattle gather in their Buddhist monastery,  and, in the language of their homeland, recite prayers for world peace, for good health for their spiritual leader the Dalai Lama, and for their countrymen still living in Tibet.

The Tibetan community here is vibrant, and, in addition to monthly prayers, there are other kinds of cultural events as well.  A week from now, for example, there will be a concert of modern Tibetan music.  And there are also observances of Tibetan holidays…and of the Dalai Lama's birthday…and traditional ceremonies  to celebrate marriages, or to mourn a death.

The prayers, however, strike me as a kind of centerpiece for the community.  In the eight years now that I have been photographically documenting Tibetan culture in the Pacific Northwest, I have only missed monthly prayers a very few times. 

The prayers are low-key and quiet, admittedly not even a blip on the radar of all that goes on in "big city"  Seattle. 

Nevertheless,  I have seen that gatherings like these bind a community together. 

Opening Doors

It's been eight years now that I've been photographing the community and culture of the 300-or-so Tibetans who live in the Seattle area.  It is a photographic project for which I can't imagine an "end point."

I feel as if I'm in a dream, walking around with my camera in an ancient and amazing,  treasure-filled palace. Each door I open in the palace leads to a discovery, something  beautiful or new to me, and almost always surprising.

I learned recently that one of my Lama friends at the Tibetan Buddhist monastery in Seattle has taken up painting. My friend, Tulku Yeshe Rinpoche,  is already a respected poet and writer and I have read the English translations of a number of his books. His creativity is boundless.

Tulku la's paintings seem, to my eye at least, far beyond what one would expect from a "beginner." He allowed me to photograph him as he worked on a painting of the Potala Palace, for 300 years the home of the Dalai Lamas in Lhasa, Tibet.  The current Dalai Lama fled Lhasa in 1959 and lives in exile in India. The Potala palace is now a museum and a World Heritage Site.

As I consider the photographs I'm posting today, I wonder whether Tulku la has the same dream that I have? ... that he, too is walking around in an incredible palace, full of neverending discoveries.

Candlelight

I was in the Tibetan Buddhist monastery in Seattle last night, photographing a candlelight ceremony to honor the passing of the monastery's much-loved head lama, Dagchen Rinpoche.

In my 40-plus years as a photojournalist, the scene I beheld last night was one of the most beautiful things I have witnessed.  Soft voices joined in a sweet, chant-like prayer, and monastery lights were turned down low. The human faces, glowing in that soft candlelight, were simply lovely.

I am often awed by the power that a still photograph has to convey emotion, but in this instance, nothing can match the experience of being there.

Creation and Destruction

A group of Tibetan Buddhist Monks came to the art museum on Bainbridge Island last week to create a sand mandala,  and, as I photographed that process on two different days, it appeared that the monks' visit made quite an impact on my neighbors.

You see, the making of a mandala is an elaborate and fascinating process, usually taking several days… monks patiently and painstakingly funneling grains of sand through metal tubes onto the design, one color of sand,  then another.  The finished mandala is quite beautiful, but it is a work of art created with an unusual twist:

Once finished, the monks will brush away the sand and destroy the mandala, dramatically trying to illustrate the lesson that we human beings too often become attached to things that are not permanent;  or we look for fleeting sources of contentment like wealth or possessions, traveling  dead-end behavioral alleyways where lasting happiness will not be found.

The monks spent five days making the mandala; and, on the last day, a group of about 50 museum visitors gathered around the mandala as one of the monks explained the lesson behind the mandala's creation and destruction.  Initially the visitors chatted among themselves, talking about what a nice day it was outside, and about where they'd go for lunch,  paying (it seemed to me) only cursory attention to what the monk was saying.

Slowly, however, the visitors began to listen.

In the end, as the monks brushed away the grains of sand, the crowd was silent.

 

Seeing History

Two venerable and respected Tibetan Buddhist lamas came together in Seattle last weekend -- an historic meeting to be sure -- and my cameras and I were in non-stop,  go-go-go mode for the event.

Sayka Trizin Rinpoche traveled here from India to lead long life prayers for HH JD Sakya Rinpoche, who has been ill recently.  (In the photograph above, Sakya Trizin is at left, offering a ceremonial scarf, or katag, to JD Sakya Rinpoche.)

It's been two days now since the prayers concluded,  but my head is still spinning. I was witness to so much color and humanity, to so many beautiful faces, and felt such a sense of responsibility to do it all photographic justice.  Post-event, I'm left feeling a bit hollowed-out and depleted.  As athletes sometimes say, I left it all on the field.

I probably shot a thousand images and have barely had time to download my digital memory cards, much less do a proper edit. Nevertheless, I'm posting a few images that jumped out at me as I shot.

What a weekend!

A Teaching

The soft drone of  monks' voices, chanting together in monotone in the Tibetan Buddhist monastery, went on for minutes, which, peacefully and serenely,  blended into hours…

OM NAMO BHAGAWATE SARWA…

A Lama friend of mine offered a teaching Sunday, a Kunrig Empowerment,  and the Seattle monastery was full to overflowing with students: Tibetans, other Asians, and Westerners.

"This teaching and the prayers we will say will be of great benefit to those who are suffering and sick," the lama told his students. "It will benefit all sentient beings."  The lama had put out the word on Facebook -- my friend is, after all, a modern lama -- that his social media contacts could submit the names of individuals in need of prayer. That Facebook posting resulted in a list of nearly five hundred names, and even more names were coming in as prayers began.

I turned my camera shutter to "silent" and worked as unobtrusively as possible. The light in the monastery was incredible,  and there were moments when the faces of the earnest students were practically glowing.

"Be kind to all beings," the lama told the students at the end of the nearly six-hour ceremony. "If for whatever reason you cannot be kind, at least do no harm."

Losar: It's a Family Thing

The Tibetan New Year celebration, Losar, is not really a Kid Holiday in the grand scheme of things, but don't tell Tibetan children that.

Losar festivities are in full swing, blowout mode for my friends in the Seattle Tibetan community, and for me too.  Last weekend I photographed three events on Saturday and three on Sunday, ranging from Losar prayers and a number of Tibetan Buddhist teachings at the monastery (above) to a Losar party for the community's kids.  Another party for the 300-some Seattle Tibetans  is on tap for this weekend as well. We'll eat amazing Tibetan food, and there will be singing and dancing.

I've been to many Tibetan New Years parties before,  and one of the Losar traditions I think is particularly sweet is the point in the evening when children give their parents big hugs and thank them for their love and support.

After the Losar hugs comes the best part of the party, at least if you are a kid.

Losar Presents!  Lots and lots of Losar presents!