Photography of David M. Knoble

Flamenco - Madrid, Spain

Flamenco is an extremely complex art form from some very specific regions of Spain. While the most authentic performances are from the Spanish born, the roots of Flamenco are not necessarily people of Spanish origin. Flamenco is made up of cante, toque, baile, jaleo, palmas, and pitos (singing, guitar playing, dancing, vocalizing, clapping and finger snapping). But the meaning behind this mixture is much more than meets the eyes.

Flamenco is in the details. Flamenco is in some ways very similar to the blues or jazz. Flamenco has over 50 different styles, or palos. Each of these styles has rules that must be followed. When a group of dancers, musicians and singers get together, they agree on the style to be performed. Then the magic begins. Other than the style rules, improvisation is what separates the performances. While some parts of the Flamenco may be rehearsed, like a good blues or jazz musician, the rest is improvised with the mood.

Flamenco evolved from the Romani of Spain, many of whom were from India and migrated, possibly as early as 600 A.D. As their migration moved through the Ottoman Empire, or Turkey, and eventually into Spain, these Romani were not readily accepted. The Romani were labeled Gypsies because they were thought to have arrived from Egypt. They stayed in groups and lived off the land, roving between cities and towns. Work was hard to come by and life was not easy. This understanding of hardship and history of a people was passed down through generations. A true Flamenco dance comes from these roots and for someone experienced, lesser forms of Flamenco are obvious.

The music starts, sometimes with a simple snapping of the fingers, and builds. The clapping takes on not only the rhythm, but the soul of the Flamenco. Then song begins, although the song may be more like a chant. The chant builds and swells to the heavens and comes back to earth. The dancers build with the music and the singing. Soon the procession becomes one instead of separate components - all swell and ebb together. The motion blurs before your eyes and the sounds envelope you.

You will certainly hear 'Ole' during the performance.  Flamenco dancers and musicians feed on each other's energy. When one of the dancers does something just right, you will hear one of their own call out 'Ole.' This spurs further fury in the moment.

The frenzy builds and climaxes until all just stop. Sometimes stopping does not mean finished, however. A twitch in the fingers of the dancer may just mean a very quiet pitos begins and the snapping builds again to a crescendo of even greater height.

During this progression, the expressions on the Flamenco dancers will change. They are reflective of the feeling they are trying to convey - the story. Like the blues, the story may have dark undertones. The expressions on the Flamenco dancer's faces show these dark undertones to match the other components.

The stories to be told here are often those of hardship - the same hardship experienced by the Romani. Watch the faces of the dancers. Watch the intent and the furled brow. Watch the expression in their mouth and while they may not let out any sound, you can hear the wail. Flamenco is the blues on steroids.

Like a Shakespearean play, there are scene changes and Flamenco dancers leave the stage or are joined by another. The story continues until there is not more to be said for the night. The stomping in rhythm, the turning and twisting using clothing to extend reach and provide more substance, the Flamenco uses everything available to convey the story.

And just like that - it ends. No warning and no winding down. The story stops. It is finished until another night when the mood strikes just right. This is Flamenco.

Remembering 9/11 - A New Perspective

We waited in line, checking pockets, removing belts and placing all objects in a container for scanning. The room was full of chatter as we walked through the gates. Assembling ourselves back together, I realized one of the sacrifices we now all made. Part of the price of feeling secure is losing a little freedom. That was when I decided to shoot something unique, something more than just a postcard or pictorial of this 9/11 monument. I wanted something that depicted the emotion I felt while standing on this ground sanctified by so many. I wanted to show the emotion that those people must have felt that fateful day. I created the portfolio, Remembering 9/11.

For my age group, the attacks of 9/11 were the overbearing loss of life that we viewed as it happened in real time.  I remember other events as a child and many more from history lessons with wasteful loss of life, but none I experienced this close.  Visiting those historical sites is moving, but nothing evokes my emotion like 9/11.  I now understand my parents statement, "I remember where I was and what I was doing when Kennedy was shot…"  This site carries a somber meaning to me both as a human being and a citizen of the country. 

As we entered the memorial, I noticed how quiet it was.  Surveying the area, I found a rose set in someone's name and made the image permanent.  I felt much less intrusive with my Leica because it was small, fitting well inside my hands.  I quickly felt the sadness and respect that was present.

I kept taking images of the two large fountains.  Four sided cubes with water falling from every side to a large square drain in the middle, these occupied the foundations of the former Twin Towers.  The black sides of the fountains were stark in the shade of the tall office building across the street  Shutting my eyes, I could hear the white noise resulting from the falling water.  I imagined the tears of those trapped in the top floors of the Twin Towers.

After clicking a few quick images of the hole in the center of the drain, I pulled the focus back to the reflections of the skyline contained in the water at the top.  This was the skyline that now stood watch over the foundations from the original Twin Towers.

 After pausing, I pulled back again to focus on the names that were written in engraved stone surrounding each fountain.  As the Vietnam Memorial came to mind in Washington, DC I decided I liked the names surrounding the fountain.  It was almost like a gathering place for their memories.  The deep etching would stand the test of time and later generations would be able to see and hear the stories of that day.

Reviewing the images, a realization came that I needed to show the intimate connection of the monuments and the people there.  I wanted to include enough of the people present, but not take away from the focal point of the memories.  The images had to speak of the silence all around.  I came back to that somber feeling.  I thought again about the tears in peoples eyes at the tops of the towers, waiting for help that didn't come.   Some, I imagined, were crying as they determined how to meet their fate.  I could picture them looking down the building towards the ground but not being able to see through the smoke.  I decided to represent the tear filled eyes through the fountains.  I decided to represent the smoke through the sharp shadows of this sunny day.

I started taking images of the ground shadows from people surrounding the fountain and their interaction with each other.  I looked at other shadows formed on the ground and mid April meant only the Cherry trees had blooms - the other trees had not yet sprouted leaves.  I began shooting the shadows of the crooked, and spindled branches on the ground.   It reminded me of the needless hand of death, reaching out to those it came to claim. 

There was still a fair amount of construction as the visitor's center was not yet complete.  The chain link fence provided two backdrops.  First, the length of fencing provided a border that people couldn't cross.  The fence represented containment.  I saw the containment of the people trapped in the tower and our containment now as we look for more security in our life.  Second, the shadow of the chain link also represented the brief time during 9/11 we were trapped as a country.  Planes were grounded causing travel to halt, large cities closed down for safety, New York was barricaded to everyone in and out.  It represented fear then and fear now.

There were many heroes that day and in the days that followed, even though many of them perished - and I consider each person caught in that tragedy a hero.  With them in mind, I began taking images of shadows as people entered the frame.  Feet and hands entering the frame from the edges represented the help coming to the Towers.  It represented the bravery and help that the passengers provided to each other when grounding the plane in Pittsburgh.  It represented the aftermath cleaning up the damage to the Pentagon.  This was the connection I was looking for.

There is no question that the Leica M rangefinder was what made this revelation possible for me to photograph.  Even with the 35mm focal length, which fills much of the viewfinder, I still had room to see people entering the image, before they got there.  It gave me the ability to anticipate the moment.  One of my favorite images in this series is the shadow of the tree with two feet entering, one from the left and one from the right.  Are they trying to escape death or are they oblivious to it?  I could not have made this image with a viewfinder that only showed me the view through the lens.

The Monochrom is my favorite Leica digital body and I began learning photography with black and white film.  I considered making these images black and white for the focus and tradition of documentary work.  While that was a very easy choice I could make with the M typ 240, I decided the shadows and the black stone of the fountain gave me the dark, black I needed, so I continued in color.  In fact, there is one strong color shot that spoke to me  - the Survivor Tree.  Aptly named, it was the single tree in the area that lived through the falling of the two large Twin Towers.  In some ways, I wish I had taken more images that day of the tree, but my focus was on the ground and what it represented.

As I pulled together the images for this essay, I decided to make one additional choice.  I decided to use the RAW images out of the camera, unaltered in any manner save contrast and brightness adjustments (which most RAW files need).  There is no cropping or color adjustments in these images.  My thinking was that I would show the unaltered view of what I had seen and felt.  While I do not believe altering the images through basic settings changes the craft, similar to film work, I did want an exact replica the way my Leica saved the image.  There is somehow a sense of completeness to my work knowing that I cannot change the image, a sense of finality.

The sounds of nature.  The sparkle of the falling water.  The blurred backgrounds and inability to focus through it.  All this reminds me of the tears shed that day.  I thank the heroes of 9/11 for the strength and patriotism they have given to me through their sacrifice and that of their families.  I will remember.

The Looking Glass

Mirrors have been used throughout the centuries in literature to represent a neutral observer of the evil or strife around the characters. Sometimes a character is blind to their own ambitions and the mirror reflects that truth back to the character, even if they are unwilling to see it. Mirrors have brought foreshadowing of the inevitable. Mirrors provide a look into alternate realities and into the future.

In Reflections of Old Town, I look for a way to present the alternate reality reflected in the Main Street of this South Carolina town.  As I press the shutter and make an exposure, the reality is all around me, except for what is rig in front of the lens.  The lens captures this alternate reality.

I chose to take most of these images without people.  This is a little outside the box for a Leica photographer as we mostly focus on documentary and recording daily life.  However, here I wanted to focus on those aspects of Old Town that are maybe forgotten, or missed in daily life.  People fill Main Street, but the reflections are meant for the people, not the other way around.

In this collection, what you see is not what you think you see.  The more you stare, the more you are unsure.  The reflection is a purposeful play on light.  I look for that glass sparkle, that light that reflects off the glass causing a bright image and contrast.  Here the shadows and the highlights are of equal importance.

I want the viewer to look and say, that's impossible.  I want them to come up with their own story behind the images that mixes he two realities.  All of these images incorporate light reflected from the glass and light coming through the glass.  The challenge is to mix the scenes so that I create something new that doesn't exist, but still communicates something to the viewer.