Chronicler of sufferings

Three pairs of hands, each colored a different color. Legs knee deep in gold. There is no question that these pictures are beautiful. But once you find what they are about, the pictures are also very disturbing. The exhibition of photographs by Lisa Kristine is centered on the subject of slavery, and behind their perfect compositions, they tell stories of pain, coercion, and torture. The red, blue and black hands belong to silk dyers, and the legs belong to gold miners, all of them forced to work for minimal pay without options to leave. There are more provocative images in her gallery: two young boys carrying slabs of stone like adults, men and women coated in dust at brick kilns. Sewa Bhattarai talked to Lisa about the superhuman courage it takes to be a witness to sufferings day after day. Lisa, in her own words:

On her interest in photography

When I was eleven, my aunt and uncle gifted me a camera. It became a tool for me to express myself and relate to people. Then I took pictures of friends and families. But if I look back, it’s very similar to what I do now. I was always interested in something super authentic, not the happy face necessarily, but a sense of infinity in somebody’s gaze, or just something touching about them.

On traveling

I live in San Francisco in California, and I have two children. I’ve been travelling since I was eighteen, and have traveled constantly for the last thirty years, photographing people of different indigenous cultures. The rhythm of being on the road is a rhythm that has always been. There comes a grace with it, as you do it frequently. I’ve never been to one country that I wouldn’t return to.

For the project on slavery, I travelled to India, Nepal and Ghana. I’ve been to Nepal 6-8 times, the first time was in the eighties. I travelled around, took photographs of wonderful astonishing human beings. I’m not so drawn to cities, but I love Kathmandu.

On Modern-day Slavery

In 2009, I met a few supporters of the organization Free the Slaves. Though I knew that trafficking existed in sex trade, I had no idea that at that time there were more than 27 million people enslaved.

Like everyone else, I had assumed this was taken care of in the 1800s. Ten years ago when the NGOs opened up trying to raise money to fight slavery, nobody believed them and nobody gave them money. But the definition of slavery is of people exploited and lied to, forced to do something against their will, not being paid, put under threat of violence, and given no choice to walk away. And there are still millions who fit this description.

That just hit me like a freight train. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. I flew down to LA to meet with the organization, and said I was going to help them.

 

On the emotional impact of her work

All my work impacts me emotionally. Once, in a brick kiln in India, with the temperature more than 54 degrees, I saw many old men and women carrying a disturbing amount of bricks. They were so covered in dust it was like they had a cloak of clay. Their eyes were just mechanical, like they were turned off, in this meditative state. I remember bursting out crying.

The abolitionist I was with shook me and said: ‘Lisa, you can’t do that here. It isn’t safe for you or them.’ I quickly realized that it was highly inappropriate. I decided in that instant that I would be there for the purpose I was called upon, which is to be a witness. I would count on those abolitionists and organizations to free them; because if I had interfered, it would’ve caused many problems.

When I go home and I’m in the studio and am editing, that’s when I get the big emotional responses, and I cry a lot. When I’m out in the field, I know that I’m doing something to raise awareness in order that it can stop. If I ignored it, or decided that it was too heavy of a burden emotionally, I think I would have a breakdown. The subject had impacted me in such a way that it became my calling. I don’t even know if it was a choice. Doing it helps me sleep at night.

On the dangers of the project

Every time I’m documenting slavery, I’m in a dangerous situation. The abolitionists on the ground did the preparations, arranged my visits. The abolitionists work for NGOs that help people out from slavery, and they work undercover. They would only bring me in when the managers were gone, and we had to leave immediately. Almost the entire body of this work was made in increments of ten-fifteen minutes, because I only had so much time.

On the relationship with the subject

Photographing people at these private and intense moments was certainly not easy. The abolitionists I work with knew the people I photographed. I wasn’t going in solely as a stranger. But if people didn’t want to be photographed, I wouldn’t photograph them. I also respect their privacy, and try to make photographs with an element of them being anonymous. I have many images that I wouldn’t show.

On the audience of art

The most important thing about making an image is doing it utterly completely for my heart. I never make an image for the public. On the other hand, I did the entire body of work on slavery for the public, for everyone on this planet. But when I was making the images, I wasn’t thinking how would the audience respond to this particular image? My work is about connecting with another human being. In regards to slavery, I’m seeing the dignity in somebody, no matter how dire the circumstance. By virtue of that, when viewers look at the image, they will be moved, viscerally. And they will raise their hands and say, ‘I want to help.’

On fighting slavery

Slavery is a huge atrocity that’s hidden. When you and I drive by a brick kiln, our assumption is that they are paid workers. And that’s why it exists. Because we don’t have that awareness. When we realize that something so horrible is happening, we won’t stand for it. For me, seeing is believing, which is why I do what I do, so that others may see what I see and be aware.

An exhibition of Lisa Kristine’s photographs, “Enslaved” was held at Siddhartha Art Gallery from November 19-25.