Paris, Here and There
Armed with a camera and a loving heart, the Warrior Goddess captures her viewer through breathtaking images of nature and soulful humans. Her spirit is burnished by exposure to the suffering in our midst, or to unspoiled wilderness, perhaps a solitary horse or a child doing a cartwheel. Seemingly unrelated elements, yet connected. The journey revolves around connections, with people, with landscapes. It’s not about technique, according to Nikki Reed. Shocking to some. These Warrior Goddesses, with their cameras attuned to their vision, make observations like Nikki’s “we protect that which we love.” She reminds us to love nature. Deborah Anderson calls out for us to love the people who were here before us. And now, we are gathered in Paris Chong’s Leica Gallery for the opening. Paris brings different yet complementary artists together, and she invites the world, most of whom show up. There are a handful of people I recognize from past openings. I don’t always remember their names, but we’re always glad to see one another again. Kiran, Leica’s VP of Marketing, is the first to call me out for my heresy, as I shoot the event with my recently acquired Nikon. But, like Nikki, it’s not about technique for me, it’s the connections. These strangers in the room, their stories. Like Omed, from Iran, who can’t go back to visit his parents. Or wild haired Virginie, the songwriter, born in France to an Algerian father and Portuguese mother. Elyahou, the one we’ve been waiting for, with his big hat and long, flowing beard, and an understanding of light simply beyond human comprehension. The young man with the hat and cigar and the jewelry, surrounded by girls. An actor, I suppose, but we can’t quite place him. Paris, here and there, and everywhere. My brother and sister-in-law visiting from Florida, drinking in the strange scene. The only one missing is Nick Ut, the photographer of Napalm Girl. He comes to a lot of these openings, but I think he’s in Vietnam right now.
We’ve been out shooting for a good portion of the day, and now my battery’s dead. I’ve got spares, just not with me. And everyone’s hungry. So we pack it in for the night and head over to Don Cuco’s on Riverside. I wish I’d brought a spare battery. The lights are dim, but the colors gorgeous. Would’ve been a great place to connect.