Hannah Swithinbank

Tears for the Past

Water from melting snow drips down one of the stelae in the Holocaust Memorial in Berlin.

I think the fact that I don’t really understand the Holocaust Memorial’s artistic/architectural nature and yet was still affected by it speaks to how well done the memorial is.  I don’t get how or why a field of concrete stelae is supposed to or can memorialise the Holocaust – but it *does*.    You walk between the rows of these blocks, which are of various heights – in the middle you are completely dwarfed by them – taking turns as and when you want to turn to find your own way through the field.  If it is a metaphor for history, then it’s almost scarily effective – each turn has its own impact on the trail you leave behind you, and can cause you to end up emerging somewhere else around the edge of the field – and with no distinguishing features on the blocks there is very little to aid you in picking out a very specific path as you go through or reaching a specific destination.  You could walk through in a straight line and miss a lot.  You could very deliberately count your way through, taking certain rows, and still miss a lot.  You could aim for an exit point and wander as vaguely as you liked towards that goal. Or you could wander at will, and end up anywhere, or get completely lost.  It’s dislocating and chilling – especially in the snow.

The day I was there the sun was starting to melt the snow that had settled on top of some of the stelae, with water droplets running down the sides of the blocks like tears.   I wanted to capture some of these drops – but also to give a sense of the memorial as a larger structure that you can get lost in.  It was a little tricky to get both, since the stelae are laid out in straight lines – which means it was hard to get them into the background of a photograph whose focal point was some small drops of water on the face of a block.  In the end, this is what I managed to capture.  Now I have it, I feel like, in a way, the ‘tears’ of the melting snow in focus in front of the bright white snowy, straight path up out of the maze of stelae might say something about the importance of tears, grief and memorialising in finding a way through the maze of history as it impacts upon us.  Which isn’t at all what I was initially aiming for – which was the tears caught in the middle of the field of blocks.  Maybe my camera is smarter than me.

Camera Toys!

It’s funny.  I bought a DSLR because it was easier to learn how to get photos right – it recorded all the settings you used and you could check the photo right away rather than getting home, having the film developed and then realising you’d totally blown your shots of sunrise over the desert (or whatever).   And now, one of the photography things I enjoy the most is the lo-fi wonder of lomography.  Point, maybe adjust your aperture to one of about three settings, shoot.

I figure that after nearly three years of DSLRing I’ve probably saved money on film purchase and development (although, lens shopping might have offset that…).  Except now I’m using up old 35mm film and investing in 120mm, and desperately trying to find somewhere that processes 110mm for less the price of O negative on the black market in a war zone in order to play with a whole variety of lomo cameras, and planning to dig out my old SLR when I get home, get it some new batteries and go play with film.

A part of it is that I can’t quite escape the feeling that film is how ‘Real Photographers Do It.’  I don’t think I’ll feel like I’m actually properly good at photography until I can load a film into a camera, shoot on manual and have the photo come out the way I want, without getting to check as I go. I’d like to be able to develop films as well, but I think that’s fairly unlikely.  Well, I think I could do black and white (I was once taught), but I would need a dark room (I don’t think I have the mad skillz required for developing photos in a bathtub – or a suitably dark bathroom either).  But anyway, I’m determined to work on the first part.   I’m getting better – I could quite comfortably shoot entirely manually on my DSLR.   I don’t forsee film overtaking digital for me, especially when I’m travelling – given that I never know if/when I’m going to get back somewhere I prefer to have the safety net of digital, and I don’t think that’s going to change.  In the same way, because I mix travel with photography, rather than travelling for photography (there’s a difference – I’m unlikely ever to spend three nights sleeping in a car near the Grand Canyon waiting for the perfect sunrise, I’ll take the best I can get whilst I’m there), I tend not to shoot manual – I use aperture priority and let the camera do the rest the majority of the time.    But I do want to start spending more time playing and improving when I’m not travelling – I sometimes forget how much fun it can be – especially after a year when I’ve travelled so damn much!  So, given that it looks like I’m going to be spending most of the summer in Cornwall, I’m going to get back to practice – out with the film cameras.

I want to play with the film SLR and see what I can do.  But I do also want to get to play – and this is where the lomos come in. You don’t really have to worry about getting it right, because there aren’t many (or any) settings and you get to play with composition and atmosphere more than perfect representation. So it’s good for practicing those things.  That’s mostly why I just picked up my latest toy – an adaptor that lets me attach lenses for the fabulous Diana+ cameras onto my DSLR and get a lomo effect in digital.   It’s not quite the same – for a start you don’t get the fun square medium format photo at the end – its more like you end up with a slightly more imprecise and soft-focus shot, but it can be very cool, IMO.  And you get photos like the one above (of the Berlin Wall).

Narcissism, Vanity, Selfies.

I promise, I’m not about to fall in a pond and drown or anything.  I got bored of just plotting further travel and decided to take some self-portraits.  At the moment I’m the only person who’ll pose for me, so I’m the only model I can practice on.   And right now, I like being curled up on the bed reading, so that’s my modelling location (also, right now I seem to only like photos with only bits of my face in – clearly full-frontal portraiture is not my thing).  I have Jasper Fforde’s newest, Shades of Grey, and Malcolm Gladwell’s The Tipping Point on the go.    I’m also reading the Lonely Planet Encounter Guide to Berlin.

AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. BERLIN.

OK. Shrieking done.

I have just over two months left in Germany before the lease on the apartment is up/the scholarship money stops coming in and I have to head back to the Cornwall (where I plan to carry on exactly the same way I am now – writing, job hunting, and taking photos, except with less wurst and more roskilly’s ice cream).  So I’m trying to make the most of it.  I’m going to Trier for a couple of days at the end of the week to see Roman stuff. Trier’s nearly three hours by train, so a day trip is pushing it, giving me an excuse to stay overnight, hurrah.   Then, before I finally head home the Maternal Unit is coming out to visit so that we can go down the Rhine to Mainz, the Loreley and Koblenz – and so that she can give me a hand yanking my hefty suitcase on and off the trains on the way home.  Aaaand, Berlin.

I’m going to Berlin for six days.   I’m a little nervous.  Berlin’s always scared me off a little – it always sounds like it’s Way Too Cool for the likes of little old me.  I don’t much go in for partying either, especially not when I’m travelling solo, so a bit of me feels like I’ll be wasting something big that Berlin has to offer.   Still, I *do* want to see all the historical stuff – after years of modern history in school and university I’m ready to put faces to names, as it were.  I’m itching to see the Pergamon Museum and the altar – even though it’s clearly only going to make me want to go to Turkey all the more and actually see the ruins of Pergamon.  I’m going to go up the Reichstag dome, and photograph the Brandenburg Gate at night.  I might go to Schloss Charlottenburg. Or I might go to Dessau to see Bauhas stuff.  I’m going to take a day trip to Sachsenhausen, because yes I am that kind of traveller.  And the nerves are starting to become excited nerves rather than slightly scaredy-cat nerves.  I’m reading the guidebook and thinking, ‘I want to see that, and that, and that.’ And this is why I like Lonely Planet’s Encounter guides – they work around neighbourhoods and atmospheres and sights that aren’t necessarily the big things that you go into and ’see’ (though they do cover those things), and I like to walk when I’m visiting cities. Rather than just going from highlight to highlight on buses and trains, I like to walk my little feet off (seriously, I think seeing Tokyo might have actually stress-fractured every bone in my feet, they hurt so much) seeing what the city looks like as a whole – and taking photos of course.

So, internet, tell me – what should I see in Berlin?   What areas should I explore (or not explore, y’know, if there are those)? What neighbourhoods have funky hidden away bits?  Where can I get a good cup of coffee and a cheap meal? What one piece of architecture will make my camera spin?  If I have to choose between Schloss Charlottenburg and Dessau, which should I choose?  Where can I get a truly fantastic bag?  Advise me!

Mid-Week Skiving

I can’t remember exactly why I decided that skipping out on a day in the library to go to Aachen was better than waiting to the weekend, since there wasn’t any rugby to watch at the weekend (I’ve found an Irish pub in Cologne that shows rugby, and I’m very excited about the possibility of seeing the autumn internationals – or I was until practically the entire England squad ended up in the hospital).  I suspect it was to do with the weathe – that I decided that I didn’t see the point in day-tripping in the rain, and so picked the first not-rainy day to go hop on the train.

Aachen is a wee city (well, wee-er than Cologne) near the border, and it is where Charlemagne had his palace.   It’s busy developing a Charlemagne trail at the moment, which could be fun.   I mostly wanted to see the cathedral (which is home to Charlemagne’s throne) and go spa-ing.  I also fancied seeing the cathedral treasury, but in the end I passed up on it to go spa-ing, on the theory that I would be going back to Aachen, hopefully with the brilliant @Sunsetmog if she can make it out here, and could go to the Treasury then.   In the end result, I probably should have gone to the Treasury instead, spa-ing was fine, but just not quite as unwinding as it should have been, due to – well, cultural differences/personal hang-ups.  I just don’t do  mixed nekkid saunaing.  I find this not relaxing.   I also like my spa-baths to be not two flights of stairs away from my saunas. Carolus Thermen is big and swish and all, but it’s actually too big for my tastes.  Well now I know – next time I will go for Mediaeval Treasures.

The Cathedral was Made of Awesome, though.  FYI, the Treasury is open from 10am and the cathedral from 11am (there are services before, so you can pop in, but not really tourist).  Also, if you want to see Charlemagne’s throne, which is up in the gallery, you have to take a tour.   It’s about €3 and it also takes you into the cathedral Choir, which is otherwise gated off, so it’s worth it – even in German.  I did the German tour in the morning, ‘cos I wanted to go to the Spa, but there’s an English one at 2pm nowadays, which is a Good Thing, ‘cos I’m pretty sure, based on what I gleaned, that the tour guides are good and interesting.

It’s just the most gorgeous building.  If you come at it from the train station you sort of fall upon it, set in a wee square, all soaring lines and architectural wonder.  Then you go round a corner and find yourself in the small square in front of the cathedral.  The other side of the cathedral faces onto a large square between the cathedral and the Rathaus, but it’s a bit empty and not as nice.  Basically, the cathedral’s in two bits.  There’s the older two tier octagon, which Charlemagne’s original chapel, and which is a masterpiece of mosaic bling, and is home to the throne (a very simple set of marble blocks bound together, with a view down to the altar.  Then there’s the the later, gothic choir, which flies up straight and narrow, and seems to be made of stained glass windows (which were restored after the war).  It really is the original definition of awesome.  There was definitely awe involved as I stood with my neck craned looking up at the ceilings and windows.   Although it’s relatively small, it’s definitely one of the loveliest cathedrals I’ve been in – and I’ve now been in a fairly large number of European cathedrals.

Finally, in Aachen, there was Printen. Nom nom nom nom nom. Printen is Aachen’s own special kind of lebkuchen (german gingerbread) – a spicy, chewy biscuit, with crunchy rock candy bits. It comes in all shapes and sizes, and coatings – sugar glaze, chocolate, chocolate with bits – and it’s NUMMY. I came home with a stash at it.

Oooh, teh shiny…

I have finally finished my photobook of Tanzania.  It’s mostly photos and just a little bit of travelogue (as the vast majority of the travelogue was either me listing all the different animals and birds, or spitting about Kennedy, and that’s no fun for anyone) – but I am proud of the photos.  Have a look.

Tanzania

By Hannah J. Swithinbank

Book Preview

Afternoon Out

Today I did actual sightseeing stuff. I went to the Römisch-Germanische Museum, which is home to all the fun ancient things that have been dug up around here.  Mostly it’s too late for my tastes, being AD – although I have learnt to identify a bust of Augustus at 20 paces.  Teaching archaeology and running around Roman museums has done that much for me.   I really need to take a tame archaeologist with me to the museum, in order to properly appreciate all the stuff that’s in there – because it is clearly a really good collection that properly illustrates Roman life in the Germanic provinces. I just don’t know anything, really, about that (except that some of the Imperial family hung around up here fighting battles), and I can’t properly read the explanations, as my German isn’t that good (and my imperial archaeology isn’t good enough to guess).   Then I think I will get much more out of it.  That said, the two big mosaics (the Dionysus and the Philosophers) and the reconstructed Tomb of Poblicius can’t fail to impress even *this* Republican philistine.  They really are stunning – and beautifully displayed.    I invested in a year’s pass to the Cologne Museums (it covers all the major beasts), which at €50 for students was an absolute steal.  You’d comfortably spent €20 visiting three of the eight or nine covered, as a student, and I have plans to go to all of the ‘big three’ (the Römisch-Germanische, the Ludwig, and the Wallraf-Richartz) more than once. And I’m only here for six months.   Even if you’re not a student, the year’s pass is only about €68, which is still worth it.

After all the ancientness, I decided to take advantage of the sunshine – and ended up wishing I’d taken my sunglasses – before going to listen to Vespers at the Kölner Dom.  There’s this pilgrimage thing – Domwallfahrt 2009 – going on at the Dom, and there’s a bunch of services taking place, so I thought I’d go and listen to some music in stunning acoustics.  I strolled across the Hohenzollernbrücke (which is the railway bridge) to see the view back to the cathedral. You’d never think that a railway bridge and station would do much more than spoil the view of a gothic cathedral, but the juxtaposition really does work – despite the fact that the sun was directly above the Dom, requiring much eye-screwing-up.  I’m going to go back in the morning and after dark some time to take some more photos across the Rhine.   Vespers was lovely, too. I only stayed for a little while (and sat through the build-up before hand, which is what the last photo shows), but it was just perfectly relaxing, and the music (girls’ choir) was gorgeous.  I think I’m going to have to go back for more services in a language and denomination I don’t understand.

The Desk

In honour of the fact I’m probably going to have to move into my office for the next 10 days to get the work I need to get done DONE before I go away, I present my work space. You’ll have to click through to the photo on flickr to see all the notes.

Things I discovered last year…

1. There’s tension involved in travel, even when you go on your own. The ‘why am I here’, ‘what’s my purpose in life’, am I just jumping through tourist hoops’ kind of tension. I think it happens every trip, and yet, when you come back you just sort-of forget about it. So, just learn that when it happens you should consider stopping seeing the things you’ve got on your list that you want to see – even if you really really really want to see them – for an afternoon and find a park or a sofa to sit and read a novel, or write screeds of nonsense working through your tourist-monkey issues, or email all the folks at home. And then go out the next day and get over it – chances are you’ll find something wonderful that makes you think that even if you are being a tourist-monkey, it’s probably worth it (hello, Kinkaku-Ji and Nanzen-Ji, Kyoto.

2. There’s more tension involved in watching other people travel – especially to historically sensitive places like Auschwitz. You have to work through that too – normally with the aid of pen and paper, but you’re allowed to talk to other people about it, ‘cos it’s not just emo-esque self-indulgent wank. It’s something worth thinking about. What kind of photos should you take in such places?

3. Japan. Despite the emo-tourist-monkey-ing moment, and the wearying aspects of spending three weeks in what is, pretty much Wonderland, with only a very few people to speak English too (damn my lack of Japanese), it was wonderful. And though when I came back I initially thought that it probably wasn’t going straight to the top of the list of ‘Places I’ve Been, Loved, and Want to Go Back To,’ it’s rapidly moving up the list. Mostly, I want to see Hokkaido.

4. David Mitchell. This is a vague corollary to the above, since I initially picked up Ghostwritten because I was looking for stuff to read about Japan before I went, and its first chapters are set in Japan. And then I fell in love with this wild and wonderful author, and found myself reading all four of his books (Ghostwritten, Cloud Atlas, number9dream, and Black Swan Green) between about March and September.

5. Various other authors, but most particularly Iain M. Banks and David Foster Wallace. I read The Algebraist at high speed whilst in Bulgaria for a wedding, but did at least manage to put it down for the duration of said wedding. Now I have a pile of Banks’ sci-fi to read, and am currently deep in The Player of Games. I came to DFW at the end of the year, sadly. Having heard so much about his work after his suicide, and hearing Joe mention that he was reading Infinite Jest, I borrowed a book of non-fiction essays from J, which contatined ‘The Host’, a DFW essay about conservative talk radio in the States. I’m hopelessly hooked, I’ve just finished Consider the Lobster, and ordered Infinite Jest, and I’m so sad that ever thing of his that I read takes me one step further to there being no more new DFW to read. I wish I’d discovered him earlier.

6. That despite the above, and my generally cultural snobbishness (Whaddya mean, you’ve never read Dickens???), I do have a soft spot for cultural candyfloss to leaven the load from the old brain-pan at times. It’s probably no coincidence that my affection for the awfulness of the Twilight series, and the insane camp colour of High School Musical Three: Senior Year hit me mid-supervisory crisis this autumn and further developed as I reached a point by Christmas where I was, quoth supervisor, “Written Out.” It’s also no coincidence that after a week away from the PhD I’ve started devouring non-fiction essays, high powered sci-fi and Simon Schama’s latest book, The American Future: A History.

7. Rhetoric isn’t ‘just words’. I knew it already, but after nine months of watching the US elections whilst concurrently writing a doctoral thesis about political thought and expression, all of which involves rhetoric, I have a much better understanding of it and what you can do with it, and what I don’t want to see the people running for things doing with it.

8. Economics matters. Still don’t understand it though. Paul Krugman is my guru. But I should probably pay more attention.

9. See above, re. physics and maths, which are really interesting, especially at that point where they meet theology and philosophy, but you need to have the basics down first. If only all physicists could write like Neal Stephenson did in Anathem.

10. It can still be hard to work out which friends you should make the effort to hang onto, and which you probably shouldn’t, but you shouldn’t get out of the game all together. Every so often you end up with the ones who come to visit for New Years and spend time drinking tea, reading novels and making up ludicrous top trumps games with you.

Happy New Year

The Maternal Unit apparently has no words to describe the slackness and old age of me, Mel and James, for we spent New Years Eve curled up in my sitting room with a large pile of books each, and several mugs of tea. We waved our arms vaguely in the air at midnight, read another chapter and went to bed. Oh, and we introduced James to High School Musical, mwahahahaha.

We did do stuff during the day yesterday. We went to play on the beach for a bit, and then went to Waterstones and Starbucks, as we do. For evidence – pliz to see photos.

Today, we have made approximately no plans, but there are still books… Best New Year ever.

Happy New Year to you too.

So, 'twas the season

I have had such a nice week. Mostly I’ve been hermiting in my living room with some books (getting into David Foster Wallace and M.R. James, amongst other things) and learning to use the Wii Fit that Santa brought. But I have broken out from time to time – to friends on Christmas Eve after the Carols by Candlelight, and had people over a couple of times. It was a bit weird getting up alone in the house on Christmas Day and having no one to open my stocking with, but after that, it was all good. Well, apart from when I forgot that scones needed self raising flour, not plain. Ooops. Fortunately they were inessential. Did church, then went for a walk along the Pier and East Sands – it was chilly and a little misty, but otherwise fine. Then home to open the rest of the presents, and cook the duck. G. and Daniel came over to help eat the duck and piles of roastie potatoes, watch new Doctor Who and Wallace and Gromit, and play some Mario Kart. Much fun all round.

Since then I’ve been reading through Simon Schama’s new America book, which I really really like, and not doing the stuff I was supposed to have been doing like sorting out all my unprocessed photos from Spain and Cornwall. Peoples came over yesterday to play games, except then it emerged that Evan and Mel hadn’t seen Black Books, so we introduced them to that, and then some Blackadder, and then Dr Horrible, all partaken of with much cake and a couple of bottles of red wine. Tonight Beth and I are going to sponsor the movie making career of Baz Luhrman and help Hollywood moguls stop worrying about Hugh Jackman’s sexuality by going to see Australia. Then I’m going to go back to hermiting and sleeping till Mel and James arrive on Tuesday.