Stamford Hill's Hasidic Jewish Community

"Nobody can become a 10-minute Jew," 

warns Hasidic scholar and Stamford Hill 

resident Gaby Lock. "It's so vastly away

 from your way of life that you would 

have no understanding of it whatsoever." 

Stamford Hill, London 

Six months ago I moved to Stamford Hill in north London and found myself amongst Europe's largest Hasidic Jewish community. After 34 years of living in Dublin, for the first time in my life I was now the minority, I was now different. I have become fascinated by their uniform appearance, proud demeanor and curious habits. As a former archaeologist, it's no surprise that their customs and traditions hold a particular fascination to me.

In case you haven't noticed, I'm obsessed with photography. When something unusual catches my eye I immediately want to picture it. However brave I have become in photographing strangers, it has taken me over six months of studying these dark silhouettes to capture them on film. They are the very souls of discretion, going about their daily routines to pray, ride the bus, go to the shop or go to school. They are an intensely private community and command an unspoken air of respect; when you take out your camera an uncomfortable side ward glance or a quickened foot step instantly tell you they want to be left alone. It's almost like photographing a timid but majestic wild animal.

This challenge has merely made me put down my camera and observe them from a distance whilst becoming more discreet as a photographer (a skill that will always be useful). I am gradually learning about their traditions and moral code which influences every part of their lives; from the modestly sewn up slits in the women's skirts to the tight ringlets the men tuck behind their ears or play with when deep in conversation. Even though I don't necessarily agree with their extreme orthodox behavior, I have developed a respect for their sense of family and community. 

 

Each day, fathers proudly walk their children to the synagogue. Large families saunter in parallel lines holding hands from the oldest child to the youngest; each infant is perfectly manicured with miniature tailored suits or pretty dresses. There are well over 20,000 Hasidic Jews in Stamford Hill. It' a rapidly growing population of old and young families that are flourishing in the protective arms of a tight unchanging community, within one of the most culturally diverse and fast moving cities of the world. It's almost as if the further the 21st century progresses the tighter they cling to the security of their traditions.

 Photography copyright of Alva Mac Gowan

Seydou Keita: Portraits for the Gallery or the Living Room?

'What founds the nature of photography is the pose'  Roland Barthes

In 1991 three photographs turned up in an exhibition of African art. They were portraits taken in Mali, the photographer was cited as unknown. This was a period when African art was growing in popularity. A French curator, André Magnin decided to travel to Mali in search of the photographer. Luckily, Seydou Keita was easy to find as he turned out to be Mali's most famous studio photographer. He had worked mostly in the 1950s and 60s and was now in retirement. 

His studio had been located in the city of Bamako at a very interesting period of Malian history, during it's transition as a French colony to an independent state. It's society was changing, the middle class were growing and status was becoming more important and attainable to them. 

Can you see the photographer in this picture?

Seydou Keita's studio was the place to go if you wanted to look beautiful. Many of his clients were concerned with climbing the social ladder. There was a ready supply of props in the studio, including radios (below), bicycles, Vespas and even cars, for the sitters to pose with and pretend they were their own possessions. 

 His technique was simple and yet highly effective; he used a large format camera which meant that the negatives were so big that he didn't need an enlarger and so he could process all of his work in house, it also meant every detail was captured. Keita was a perfectionist, every component was meticulously placed including the sitter. It is the style of the poses he directed that make many of his portraits instantly recognizable. Also, unwittingly but intuitively he borrowed many classical poses from famous paintings. Like the portrait below, a pose Matisse had borrowed from the old masters, it once indicated that the sitter was in mourning, but here the woman is proudly showing off her extensive collection of blankets.

Keita liked to break the rules and clash busy Malian patterned textiles with back drops. Because he photographed in black and white it worked. The technique served two purposes; to deflect attention from the sitter's flaws, but also the textiles were of tribal origin and therefore a huge part of Malian culture and identity.

In 1997 Keita's portraits were blown up to eighty times their original size and traveled from the living rooms of Bamako to the gallery walls of the Cartier Foundation in Paris and The Gagosian Gallery in New York. His work was selling for up to to $16,000 each. Keita came out of retirement and was commissioned to do a fashion shoot for Harper's Bazaar. He died in 2001, a very rich man. Unfortunately much of his work currently hangs in limbo as agents and their lawyers argue over copyright, which makes it all the more valuable. 

 

What's most interesting about this story is how a photograph can be labelled as 'commercial' or 'fine art' depending on it's context, the market and who is looking at it. This simply confirms the fact that there really are no genres in photography, just prejudices.