These last few days ...

These last few days have been a psychedelic whirl ... somehow. 

No drugs were taken, I hasten to add.

If I attempt to put past few days together, I would tell you that we had a horrific random shooting here in Belgium, where more than 120 were injured and 5 were killed. I was told about it when it was still breaking news and no one knew what was happening.  It left me disorientated at the end of the day.

Then there was my 17 hour marathon Friday but as it ended with red wine and time spent with a lovely friend, I shouldn't complain.  

Actually, that day was a little surreal, in terms of all I experienced.  Even the train trip home took on an odd quality when a lovely older Moroccan woman next to me started talking and ended up getting me to try her Coco Chanel perfume.  The 'odd' could be applied when you realise she spoke French and Arabic and I spoke English and Nederlands.  No language in common but when has that ever stopped me ...  There was much laughter and family photographs were exchanged and smiled over

Saturday and Sunday were spent in the company of the truly delicious Miss 7, who came out to street Christmas party with us in the evening.  The street party where Gert and I, along with others, spent some time trying to help a guy who collapsed there.  It was a relief when the ambulance arrived. 

We stayed on for a while, catching up with good people, most especially the 'justice of the peace' who married us back in 2006.  Sunday I look at the 'chaos' on my desk (let's not call it mess) and realised I had an Eithopian cross (pictured above), a Turkish prayer bracelet and necklace from Lhasa, all lying next to each other here. 

I love the stories and relics that pop up in this crazybeautiful life I sometimes get to lead.

But mostly, if I had to explain this absence from blogging, I would tell you it's because I've been working on this new website.  The website where there is still work to be done but perhaps I just have to throw out here in front of me.  I always want things perfect and, of course, nothing is ever 'perfect enough'. 

So, here I am, launching this new website.  More work to be done in the days ahead. I hope you enjoy it.  The url should switch to www.dimackey.com but for now, it is here.

The 'Joy' of Being a Photographer

One of the crazy beautiful things about my life is that I get offered the opportunity to photograph some truly interesting people and events.

One of the crazy-making facts of this life as a photographer, I’m usually offered the opportunity to donate my services for free ...

I was recently contacted about the possibility of heading off to a world forum as photographer.  They made it immediately clear that they were a charity, they had no money but there was the possibility the media outlets might want photographs.  I could probably pick up some loose change there.  I was left wondering how the caterers got their money ... tips?

The gig interested me, intensely actually, and the guy I was talking to was lovely however at some point sanity kicked in and I realised that it was same old same old.

I would attend two or three days of events, take a few hundred photographs because I love that kind of photography.  it was possible that some of those photographs would be urgently required for press releases, as is so often the case.  I would travel too and from the venue each day.  This was to be at my own expense, until I mentioned it would cost me money to work for the charity.  Not to mention that fact that I would spend a number of days sorting, selecting, processing and packaging my images so that everyone involved had the option of their memory of those days, proof of their professional abilities.

I thought, No ... not again. 

The organisers will be paid.  The cleaners will be paid. The caterers too, I imagine.  The office staff, the media people, the owners of the venue. Even the speakers will probably be paid as they were coming from all over the world ... but hey, the photographer works for free.

Why?

Are my skills such that I don’t deserve to be paid?
Is my time without value because I am an artiste?
Am I having too much fun in my profession?

Could it be that my 200euro monthly payments to social security here in Belgium aren’t impressive enough to merit payment?
Is my 21% BTW (VAT) payment on every invoice something I can choose not to pay?

I said no.
They offered expenses.
I had to walk away because how can I explain that I might be a little more qualified than some of the cleaners.  That perhaps my photographs will give the event more coverage than some of the office staff involved in putting this event together.  That maybe the photographer contributes something material, acting as a kind of witness to an event, that enhances the careers of those organising it.

Obviously my business is on hold while I regroup and learn to say no more often to these gigs.  I don’t want to get bitter about my photographer’s life because I love photography and people with a passion.  I love documenting events where the world comes to speak but I just can’t keep taking the financial hits. 

So please, sometimes just think about the photographer you’re hiring. 
Think about how good they are, how long you’ll have those memories for, and what value you place on those images ... and then just pay because they have bills just like you.

Thank you for reading.
Normal service will be resumed as soon as I find some bounce again ...

Pizzeria Da Pino, Genova

Pizzeria Da Pino creates the best pizza I have tasted anyplace in the world.

This is not a paid advertisement, as I always pay for their pizza ... and gladly.

I’m a bit of a Napoli pizza girl but mostly because I didn’t really discover anchovies until I arrived here in Genova back in 2008.  And now I can’t get enough of them.

And basil, ohmygoodness!  How didn’t I know about Basil??

So tonight, the night of Last Hours in Genova Rituals, is all about good pizza, a favourite wine, about cleaning and packing, about wishing I wasn’t leaving again but, at the same time, needing to go home.

It’s like that ...

Buon Sapore di Barbara Savoia & C.

This morning, Lorenzo kindly allowed me to tag along with him as he made his daily walk through the city, buying produce for his vegan cafe, cibi e libri in Via Ravecca.

And while wandering, he introduced me to Barbara and Rossana, at their fruit and vegetable shop at Via di Pre 96-98r.  They are the last of the Genovese selling fruit and vegetables on Via Pre, a street where a truly international population operates today.  I took a few photographs and will add them some time soon but for the moment, a glimpse of this lovely little shop here in Genova.

One of the last remaining medieval towers in Genova ...

This morning I had the most remarkable, almost overwhelming, time.

The other day, Stefano had introduced me to a lovely man, an artist who is something of an expert on the truly ancient part of Genova.  ‘Truly ancient part’ translates as more than 2000 years old.

Today we 3 met under the gate known as Porta Soprana, one of those ancient gates built back in 1155 as part of the Republic’s defense against Barbarossa, and we set out on our walking tour. 

The tower photographed at the end of this post is, of course, medieval. 

The New Zealander in me, the child who remains, found that fact stunning.  And by the end of the tour my mind was mush. I felt extremely fragile but understood, eventually, that it was coming face-to-face with explanations of ancient history.  Legend has it, that the man who built this tower was responsible for ... inventing a kind of mobile ladder to scale the walls of Jerusalem during the Crusades.

Really!

I don’t write of the days where I find myself on my knees, completely lost in the world.  I feel things quite deeply.  I presume it’s an artiste thing (let’s put a positive spin on this) but there are times when I am crippled by a feeling of immense fragility as I wander the world.  It happened in Cairo.  It happened in Istanbul however it doesn’t seem to stop me wandering… 

It happened today.  I felt so small in this ancient world and I had no idea of how to save myself. But I usually do. Or someone else does without knowing what they have done.

Sometimes I wonder if I just can’t somehow become a stay-at-home-kind-a-woman-with-my-labrador-dog... but then I need to wander again.  But I love labradors.  I love belonging someplace. However I seem to need to climb that gate I used to climb as a very small child.

And so, to walk through these streets today, with two men I respect immensely and being offered a glimpse of the enormity of Genova’s history down through time ... I had to rest this afternoon because my mind was shattered.  I felt like I might just implode.  I felt so very small ... and lost.

And yet we all know ... I’ll do it again and again and again because that seems to be what I do.

If living alone in Istanbul for two years didn’t cure me of the loneliness and fragility that comes with this strange life that I live, then nothing will I think.

Today I learned so much about a very small part of this ancient city I love and it was good.  Mille grazie to those who patiently led me through these ancient streets telling me stories and translating.  It was a golden day.

Buon Natale

Yesterday was the day I said goodbye to the artists on via S. Lorenzo.  They are only there at the weekends and I’ll be back in Belgium next weekend.

I was so surprised to hear them wish me Buon Natale as we said our goodbyes but of course, it’s almost Christmas, even if my New Zealand-orientated self doesn’t understand the possibility of Christmas in the dead of winter.

I was so very pleased to see Franco Fondacaro this time.  He is the guy in the photograph below, captured as he talked of his art with a client.  Not long after I left Genova last time, he was beaten up and robbed, early one morning while out walking his dog. 

Franco fought back.
Franco is 83, and completely adorable. Everyone was horrified that he had been attacked by the two guys.  He spent quite some time in hospital and is slowly recovering from a serious neck injury but stll, he is full of life and laughter.  It was good to see him.

Meanwhile, Shannon finished Amedeo’s new website and so, last night, Karla, Amedeo and I had a working/farewell dinner where I showed them how to operate the new site.  I think it’s a good idea that Amedeo’s latest work is always out there, especially now winter is coming.  Now I just need to work on the About text which is currently a direct translation of his Italian bio via google translate. 

We also spent time working out whether to move Karla’s website over to Blogger or some other space.  I think we will.  And some new business cards have been designed for both of them.  We had so much fun.  I’ll miss them.

I love it here.  I come alive in a way that I don’t think I am alive any place else.  It’s been difficult this time but the cough is almost gone.  I’m strong again, and walking all over the ancient heart of the city.  I was sitting on the stairs of San Lorenzo Cathedral earlier, close to my favourite lion sculpture, just watching the world go by while eating a slice of onion focaccia ... happy. 

Happy to be here, in this moment, in this place.
Buon Natale ...

Luciano Viotti, Painter

Luciano Viotti is another of the artists I enjoy down on Via San Lorenzo. 

He has a big soul and you see it in his work.  I loved this one yesterday, of the trams over in Milano. 

He explains that he has been painting for more than thirty years.  He began with realism, then pointillism but today finds him expressing himself in a personalized Impressionism.  I love it.  Karla insists that you can find the 1950s in his work but it’s something you would have to see for yourself.

You can find more of his work over on his website.

Amedeo Baldovino's Artwork

Today I was gifted a second beautiful painting ... painted just for me. 
Look closely, you’ll see.

I love this city. 
I love the people here, and already I’m thinking about the fact that it will be my suitcase rolling along the caruggi here in a few days.  I will take some exquisite memories when I leave ... as always.

Anyway, about the photograph of the painting below.  It was painted by one of my favourite artists in the world, Amedeo Baldovino.  You can read of my first meetings with him over here.

Tonight I had the pleasure of having dinner with both Amedeo and Karla. I do adore them.

Mille grazie, Amedeo!  I love the painting.  I love that in those Genovese cityscapes you paint, there is a space for this New Zealand photographer who is passionate about books.

Karla Verdugo, Artist

I met Karla Verdugo back in July, on my previous visit to Genova. 

Karla’s one of a group of artists who sell their artworks down on Via San Lorenzo, on Saturdays and Sundays.  I adore them.  They’re the loveliest people.  If passing, you really should stop and chat and consider their artworks.

Today Karla gifted me an early Christmas gift.  It was one of two paintings I wanted to buy from her and it’s going to make me smile everytime I look at it.  Not only because I love it and it’s a gift from a lovely friend but because I consumed a whole jar of honey on this visit. It was my drug of choice when it came to fighting this cold of mine. 

It shall be hung someplace close to my desk.
Grazie, Karla.

Lovin Genova

I think this photograph says it all today ...  it’s a glorious day here in Genova.  Blue skies, not to cold, lots of lovely people.

But more on the people who operate behind the window in the photograph.  Lovin Genova provides people with all the information they could need when wandering in Genova. They have two offices, one down near the pirate ship parked in the harbour, close to the aquarium and another up on Via Garibaldi.  Their English publications are superb and I can’t recommend them highly enough.

Ciao from La Superba

A little news from Genova ...

I must stop with talk of my cold ... forgive me. I just haven’t had one like that in a very long time. 

And it was probably complicated by that sense of being lost that I have when something goes a bit wrong and I’m wandering without the language of the countries I visit or live in.

In Istanbul, I remember a friend dragging me into a pharmacy one snowy day because she was worried about my hacking cough.  I knew it was pharyngitis, I get it as part two of a cold sometimes.  I left the shop at speed when the pharmacist pulled out the paraphernalia to give me an injection of antibiotics.  Since those days, I’ve developed odd allergies to surprising things.  One of the popular ingredients in medication that dries up phlegm and etc, isn’t a friend of mine and so I try to avoid medicine unless utterly necessary.

However, this time I think I may have had the cold longer than was necessary and yes ... talked of it more than I should have.  In good news, I’ve slept through the night these last two nights.  Tis bliss.

Yesterday was a lovely day and it’s my quiet belief that lovely days should be celebrated with the purchase of a book from La Feltrinelli, here in Genova.  I love that bookshop, intensely.  I looked at everything, wandering for more than an hour, oftentimes wishing I would just sit down and study Italian so I could buy some of those books.  But their English section has a good selection too.

And I found treasure ... Roberto Saviano’s book, Beauty and the Inferno.  It turns out he has published a series of essays in a book titled, Beauty and the Inferno.  In it he reflects on his new life as a fugitive writer and the experiences of others in the same position. “He makes common cause with others, like Salman Rushdie or Anna Politkovskaya, who have also been persecuted for their writing; in the latter’s case, fatally. The book is at its best when Saviano describes the strange half-world that he now inhabits. Of a meeting with Rushdie in Stockholm, he writes: “The difference between Rushdie and me is that he was condemned by a regime that does not tolerate expressions that run counter to its ideology. In my country, where censorship does not exist, oversight and indifference take its place.”“  Extracted from Duncan Campbell’s review in the Guardian.

My day ended at a pizzeria with two lovely women.  It was the perfect way to end a good day.  Grazie.

I’m off an adventure this afternoon.  I’ll let you know how it goes.