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. 

Tibet Fest 2016

I wonder how often we Americans stop to realize how lucky we are: That we can stand on a street corner shouting grievances we might have about our government; that we can freely practice our religion of choice; that we can assemble and march in parades and celebrate American culture…or German or Japanese traditions…or whatever strikes our fancy.

There are, of course, many countries in our world where citizens can do none of the above without fear of being tossed into jail, or worse.  My Tibetan friends tell me that in Tibet they cannot even possess a picture of their spiritual leader, the Dalai Lama.

I spent Saturday and Sunday photographing Tibet Fest, held for 21 years now a stone's throw from the iconic Space Needle at the Seattle Center. The event is part of Seattle's "Festal" program which celebrates various world cultures that are parts of Seattle's melting pot human makeup.

The event is colorful, and wonderful, and I was proud of Seattle for hosting celebrations like this.

Daddy's back

The fellow responsible for the care and feeding of this blog -- that would of course be me -- has been a poor blog parent of late.  Daddy's attention has been focused, not here,  but on a new Instagram child I've recently adopted.

Until now, I have stubbornly avoided social media -- mostly, I guess, because it felt too much like high school ("LIKE me! PLEASE LIKE me!!!)  I see, however, that a lot of my photographer friends are doing Instagram. And so I bow to peer pressure.

We never completely get over high school, do we?

Anyway, I hafta admit that Instagram is kind of fun to do, though it seems like a one-off photographic forum: I do a hike,  or one of my shoots for the Seattle Tibetan community. I make maybe 500 pictures, but post only one on Instagram. This blog is a place where I think I'll show more backstory.

The images I'm posting here today are from two recent hikes/summit scrambles that my buds and I did in the North Cascades. I invite you to click on the images (particularly the top one, the panorama) to see them at a larger size.

And if you are curious, here is a link to my Instagram baby:

 https://www.instagram.com/kurtphotojournal/

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.

A Passing

Most posed, formal photographic portraits you will see of important, revered Tibetan lamas make them look stern and perhaps even scary. They stare stony-faced into the camera, rarely even a hint of a smile on their face…which surprises me because the lamas and monks I know are actually quite happy individuals, prone to impish belly-laughs and even child-like giggles.

His Holiness Jigdal Dagchen Sakya, most often simply called "Rinpoche" (Precious One) by Tibetan Buddhists at the Sakya Monastery in Seattle, passed away last week after a long illness. His family, who knows me through my involvement with the Pacific Northwest Tibetan community, contacted me and asked me to photograph the historic ceremonies surrounding his passing. Of course I replied that I would be honored to do so.

In the eight years I have been documenting Tibetan culture here,  Rinpoche has been the focal point of many of my pictures. And, yes, if I'm photographing something like prayers at the monastery (first photo above)  Rinpoche has been serious.

My favorite photographic memories of him, however, will be of his smile, and the twinkle in his eye.

Yes, it was an honor for me last week to photograph events marking Rinpoche's passing;  but more importantly it was moving to see the people, individually and collectively,  who came out to honor him. 

What I'm sure all of us will remember is Rinpoche's warmth and compassion.

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!