Street Photography in Bulgaria

Many years ago (many by the standards of someone whose passport says 1985), I would come back to Bulgaria and would immediately put my shield (immediately=at the airport BEFORE the flight). I needed that shield for my own sanity – it is a culture shock – not that I wanted to keep my distance or that I felt ashamed of being Bulgarian. It had to do with change – in the same way as air pressure change leads to a headache, I had a headache experience when I looked at the faces of those Bulgarian flying back to Sofia – I used to play this game in my mind trying to guess if the person is Bulgarian or a foreigner going to Bulgaria just by looking at their facial expression. Statistically, I would have in most cases won had I bet on him/her being Bulgarian but it wasn’t also difficult to differentiate them simply because the neutral expression isn’t neutral – it is tense, worried, full of contempt even.

Over the years, and especially since picking up street photography, I have come to rely on the camera as the shield which has opened my understanding for such looks. And it is not that this is a reflection of the soul – no. Just like my camera, such a facial expression is a shield and you can see it drop when the person talks on the phone with a loved one, or when the boy feeds the birds, or when they hand together chatting about girly things, or when in the grey reality of the day he walks with a flower in hand, or when their orange hair (which is rare on one person in the streets let alone two people next to each other) flows in the low afternoon sun.

All shot from the hip (and as such they are “deliberate accidents”) at f8 or f11 (Summicron C40/f2) pre-set based on the distance indicators on the lens barrel.

Everyday Magic

I always try to look for the positive things on the street with my street photography and some time ago I asked my twitter and facebook followers for topics for a shooting challenge – Elena had one of the most inspirational topics: “Everyday Magic”. It took me more than a month to collect something for her. These six pictures to me capture those slivers of the daily routine of the people involved. The camera man becomes somewhat of a voyeur – staying away, and yet penetrating a most intimate moment. Photography for me is not merely a chance to immortalize a moment – it is the experience of that moment – none of these events would have been memorable to me if I had not taken a picture of them, if I had not seen them in a still frame through a small window, if I had not studied them afterwards, if I had simply continued my walk through the city, if all elements did not fall into place on their own: the woman with her hand on her forehead when she sees the gay couple, the two men staring at the kissing couple on the stairs, the ignorant isolated bliss of the kissing couple, the two dogs politely sniffing each other in the middle of the big square, the boy that wanted to take a picture of the couple but got distracted by the street photographer taking picture of him…

The Greatest Thing You Will Ever Learn Is Just to Love and be Loved

In the beginning there was Chaos. Chaos and I. It was dark, ominous and depressing. I was there alone, in Nothing, despondent. There was no time to waste, no beauty to appreciate, no love to share. I was Somewhere, at some time, doing nothing but thinking – thinking what it would be like if I created something. I often imagined things – things I had never seen, touched or sensed.

One day … some night … any moment…no, always.

“Why can’t I create by force of words?” I sighed in a low cynically dejected voice. I could immediately feel someone’s presence; someone invisible, whose molecules had mingled with the atoms of the matter around. A presence that I had never felt before and that I never separated from ever since.

“Hello? Anyone there?” Of course, I realized as soon as I said it, that there could not possibly be anyone because I was the only creature at that time. But then I heard a voice coming from inside my head:

“Yes, it is I – Will. If you make me strong, you will be able to create whatever you wish. But beware, I require the greatest sacrifice ever.”

I was so happy that after so long a loneliness and down-heartedness I was going to be able to create, that I totally disregarded the warning.

The first thing I felt need of was TIME. “I want to measure the amount of Thought required to Inspire My Emotion!” And then, at that very moment, in my head, bangs echoed, striking the seconds precisely. I felt as though another pair of veins was placed along my old one – the pulses were following and overlapping each other. I was fascinated. And yet, I finally appreciated timelessness as my best friend. But I was happy – I had sacrificed my immortal nature for immortal emotion.

I knew that I was merely in the beginning. I needed two more things, the most abstract ones, before I started creating the material world as I had seen it in my dreams – BEAUTY and LOVE. I started with BEAUTY. “I want to be able to feel emotions for the Beastfully Euphoric and Assertive Understanding of the Tempting Yield!” As soon as I said it, I felt hot thoughts running down my spine, back to the brain, then along my nerves and on the road again. My legs became weak, my mind got vague, my brain worked frantically. And yet, I finally appreciated that my absolute power as a judge of beauty had been my best friend. But I was happy – I had sacrificed my innate power to judge for the innate power to admire.

Finally, came LOVE. “I want to have my heart stolen by Livid, Overwhelming, Viral Emotion!” And then, I felt pain, quick thumps of the heart, enlightenment. My heart was in agony and at the same time it was flying, my eyes were closed and my hands were moving graciously as if in a dance. And yet, I finally appreciated that my nonchalance had been by best friend. But I was happy – I had sacrificed my survival instinct for adoration.

Armed with TIME (so that I could measure infinity), with BEAUTY (so that I could be appreciative), with LOVE (so that I could like everything I create), I was ready to materialize a world of my fancy.

I realized I needed light so that I could see what I create. But out of sentimentality I wanted both light and darkness in balance. “Let there be light half the time and darkness the other half!” And so it was. And I liked it for its heavenly simplicity.

I needed some matter to start constructing on. But out of sentimentality I wanted the earth to have the shape of a sphere – so that I never stop walking, just like in Chaos. “Let there be a large ball of firmness and warmth!” And so it was. And I liked it for its geometric perfection.

I needed oceans too. But out of sentimentality I left some pieces of land so that I could walk and just think there. “Let there be oceans around the earth!” And so it was. And I liked it for its invigorating powers.

I needed mountains. But out of sentimentality I left some pieces of flat land, so that I could enjoy climbing up, going down. “Let there be mountains reaching up to the skies!” And so it was. And I liked it for their desperate desire to reach the skies.

I was happy with my creations. At that moment I did not see the need for more – it was beautiful and it was loved. But little by little I got accustomed to the view because it neither changed nor evolved. I went through my archives of dreams of a living world. It was easy to pick up the colors – green for TIME, red for LOVE, yellow for BEAUTY. But I found it difficult to choose a single shape and size – they were all wonderful. I thought that variety would be great so I made them all different.

“Let there be trees of all sizes: large trees, small trees, bushes, and shrubs of different shape – some elongated, others circular, some curved, some dense, some transparent; of different spread: some growing at one place only, others – spreading their seed all over with ease.” And so it was. And I liked it for its astounding variety.

I loved brooding in the green grass, hiking up the mountains, hiding in the forests and enjoying the sun. But I then needed to share Beauty. That was how the idea of creating creatures to understand me came to me – creatures with emotions and feelings, creatures completely independent and conscious, creatures able to create and appreciate.

“Let there be creatures flying in the air; creatures swimming in the sea, creatures prodding on the earth, and creatures living in the trees.” And so it was. And I liked it because, finally, I could share Beauty with creatures who could feel love.

I was filled with sensuous ravishment. But time went by and I could feel a pattern developing – the creatures bred, grew up, died and then it started all over again. However, I wanted to create creatures susceptible to spiritual perfection. And I decided that the only creature that could evolve was my own alike, and yet different – because alikes push each other apart. And I was looking for something to complete my spirit as if we were two parts of a puzzle.

I sat on the lavender grass near the ocean. Birds were singing, a small rabbit was tickling my feet, and a colony of ants – so absorbed in their work that I was the last thing that could ever stop them. And I saw in my mind the Human – an embodiment of TIME, BEAUTY and LOVE.

“Let there be a human.” And so it was. And I liked it for its lavender eyes, its rosewood hair, its violet lips, its jasmine skin… It was my masterpiece.

The human moved. I could feel the warmth in its face but also the questions in its eyes – questions about existence, about living, about breathing. But I sent my message with an appreciative smile: “You will have your answers – you will learn them through experience. You will recognize Beauty; you will learn to appreciate it, to love it because Love is the greatest thing you will ever learn. You will soon be ready to take my place and start creating because this is the greatest power you will master.”

“But Muse, are you leaving me?” asked the Human.

“Yes, my dear. I need to. I have done everything I ever dreamt of. I have fulfilled my obligations, I have accomplished my tasks and I have seen my dreams come true. I leave you in charge. I want you to continue creating Beauty and sharing it. I need you to go on in my path. Promise me that you will be my best creation and that you will not betray my principles.”

The Human nodded in appreciation. I could feel its love – it loved me with all its heart. I stretched my hands for it. I touched its heart. At that very moment something exploded in me. I was no longer a material body but a soul. I felt my hands reaching for the mountains, my legs reaching for the oceans, my hair reaching for the grass, my lungs reaching for the clouds, my liver reaching for the core of the earth. At that moment the whole world began breathing.

The Human stretched out its hands and reached for the rest of my spirit. The moment it touched my eyes, they rushed into its so that the Human could recognize and appreciate Beauty. The moment it touched my veins, they rushed into its so that the Human could measure Time by their racing pulse. The moment it touched my heart, it rushed into its so that the Human could feel Love.

When the two hearts touched I was gone. I was Nowhere. No! The very moment the two hearts started beating in the same beat I was Everywhere.

Jan. 2004

VDAY 2010

It has been 6 years since I saw the Vagina Monologues for the first time. Each performance, infused with enthusiasm, realism and growth, has been different from the one before and after. Classic monologues are classic for a reason – they are interpreted again and again and again – but this interpretation makes them different every time. I had a teacher in high school who kept re-reading “War and Peace” over and over and over again claiming that she discovers new treasures in it every time – because every new reading is interpreted through the eyes of an already shaped past. These repetitions are no longer repetitions – they have become an affirmation. Or even better – they are a code – that code that they talked about in “The Secret” (don’t quote me on this – it is not that simple).

Three years down the road, guys were allowed to take part and new monologues were written to satisfy this gap. And off I jumped and haven’t looked back. Third year in a row, tomorrow the adventure starts anew. The past few weeks I listened to each of the monologues over and over trying to decipher the code, to get to the bottom of it, to boil the message down to a minimum and to synthesize it – in a single frame on a digital sensor. This would not have been possible if the women who posed did not actually feel the monologues in their souls: they channelled their emotions, their channelled every woman’s emotion, they channelled every human beings emotion, they channelled the emotion of the human race. I bring them to you here – frame by frame, a gamut of passion, a frame of human history.

Art Theory Questions – About Existentialism

[This short introductory text was delivered at an exhibition opening for the artist Sands Murray-Wassink in 2007.]

Finding and exploring new paths is an entertaining experiences. Whether this is done in the context of writing a novel, writing a research paper, preparing a presentation, solving a mathematical problem, developing a computer program, designing a work of art, composing a piece of music … It is the change, the inspiration, the intrinsic and internal need for stimulation that drives the creator. It is not about the final product but about the feeling of the creative process. It can be excruciating, it can be rewarding, it can be a torture, it can be a fortune. It is the birth of a child to protect, to pamper, to educate, to bring up according to the moral standards that one subscribes to. The artistic creation is a path.

In 1989 in Paris there was an exhibition entitled “Magiciens de la Terre” in which for the first time artists from the so-called “marginal” world parts were approached to represent their cultural heritage. This show was criticized on many levels in the framework of post-colonial studies and meta-colonialization. A problem established with that exhibition was the code – the lack of code to understand the background of the artistic creation. Artists from different cultures have a different set of values, different set of aesthetic norms, different set of the mind. This makes it impossible for a person unfamiliar with the specific context to immerse themselves in this world of artistic creation and to understand it without first understanding the set of values, the set of norms and the set of the mind. When an artist (any artist, from any culture, with their personal past and their personal worldview) sets to create a new piece of art, it is a venture that is bound to remain misunderstood. The set of norms, values and mind is bound to be different as an individual venture and a personal heritage.

Would this be a failure? How does one define art? How subjective or objective is the definition of art (let alone the label “art”)? But was the piece of art in the first place created for the sake of transferring a message? What happened with the concept of art for art’s sake? Here is how things are these days – the value of art is not determined by the artist, or by the critics, or by the art historians, or by the art philosophers, or by the public. It is the market and specifically the auction market which determines the value of an artistic creation [overgeneralizing; but just a bit]. Is it then that the people who buy art have understood its message? Or are they simply believing in a message that they have created because of their own values, norms and mind to go along with that piece of art? Is the art defined as art because of the message it carries or the message the observer impregnates in it?

One could argue then, very controversially, that the successful artist will be one who plays not with his uniqueness but with plainness – on the themes that everyone can relate to (and I think Freud will be exceptionally pleased with your works Sands because you do play with things that we all relate to). You may then ask what happened with the artistic creation as an internal need. But then what is the internal need? The need to give birth to a baby or the need to bring something in the world that has the potential of contributing to this external world? Is it a matter of self-sufficient, self-centered, self-focused, self-ful creation or a creation based on the idea of giving, of cloning, of spreading, of evolving and of evolutionarizing? Is art the message or rather the language of communication?