Beyond the Frame 23/
I’m trying to come to terms with the end of summer, reigniting a long-held affection for the Mekong, watching a thought-provoking documentary, and announcing the result of my Focal Length competition.
It is, I fear, the end of summer. The day started with blue skies and sunshine but I could see hints of ominous clouds forming over the Alps. So I walked to the lakeside, found a table with a good view of the Jet d’Eau fountain and enjoyed the last of the sunshine before the storms arrived.
I like autumn — when it’s actually here. But I do object to the transition from long, hot, blue summer days to the shorter, friskier, browner days of autumn. I feel like no sooner have I settled in to the easy-going rhythms of summer than September’s arrived, the cursed clock change is looming and pretty soon we’re all wearing woolly mufflers and thermal pantyhose.
“Woolly mufflers and thermal pantyhose”. I just done a “lol”. 😁
Autumn brings its own delights, of course. I love the low light and long shadows. It’s a much more civilised season. Summer is so brazen. We don’t approve of brazen summers where I come from.
I’ve been trying to think of ways to follow Henry David Thoreau’s advice:
“One must maintain a little bit of summer, even in the middle of winter.”
Wise words, no doubt, but he neglected to mention how, exactly, this might be achieved. Suggestions welcome.
Mekong - A river in peril
Before leaving home for the lakeside, I plucked a couple of books about the Mekong river from the bookshelf and fished out an old notebook.
I was prompted after reading an excellent BBC photo/video essay written by Laura Bicker with photos and video by Thomas Cristofoletti & Danny Bull.
Entitled, “Mekong. Last Chance to Save a Mighty River”, the essay makes for a sobering but important read.
Laura also presents a short (20 min) BBC documentary, Saving the Mighty Mekong River, which summarises the dire challenges faced by the mighty Mekong.
Sue Perkins — The Mekong River
A far more light-hearted but entertaining BBC offering is Sue Perkins’ travelogue, The Mekong River, which can be found on Apple TV.
Here’s a BBC promo poster, where evidence can be found that the BBC’s budget for self-tanning products was only sufficient to cover Sue’s face and neck.
My Mekong Project
The Mekong’s many names illustrate just how far it stretches and hints at the vast number of communities who rely upon its health and vitality.
China: The Turbulent River
Laos: The Mother of Waters
Cambodia: The Great Water
Vietnam: Nine Dragons
Tibet: Dzachu
I have a personal project about the communities whose lives are inextricably linked with the Mekong. Covid put it on hold but I’m keen to return to the Mekong and continue from where I left off. Here are some early outtakes.
Mekong Books
The two books I’m re-reading are both excellent and highly recommended.
The River’s Tale by Edward A. Gargan is one of my Top Five travel books.
I have carried my dog-eared copy of A River’s Tale across continents. It is so beautifully written that I’ve developed a kind of love/hate relationship with it. Edward’s writing transports me to a world that’s so thoughtfully observed and exquisitely described that the book might be a good choice for Desert Island Discs.
But therein lies my problem (hate is inaccurate). After reading A River’s Tale for any length of time, I appreciate the unnavigable size of the ocean between the writing of a skilled, educated author and the awkward jumble of words that tumble from my inadequately-educated brain. A River’s Tale makes me want to read. It does not make me want to write.
Yet on I plod. Sorry.
Here’s a short extract:
“As we tramped down the hill to our car, there was around us a profound silence unlike almost anything I have felt. The Dzachu was too far away for its flow to be heard and there were no yaks near us. Unlike the quiet of a cave, which always struck me as a silence that forcefully pushes in on you, like strapping pillows to each ear, the silence of the Tibetan Plateau was deep and boundless, stretching into an infinite, unscarred blue that domed over us. It took me a moment to hear this silence, to be startled by its all-embracing totality. As Dakpa and I stood still on the grassy hillside, where there was none of the background noise of the daily life I knew — the buzz of computers, the grumble of an engine, a child’s laugh, the rattle of a chain-link fence, the bark of a dog, the whine of an airplane, the bell of a trolley, the slam of a distant door, the sound of a page turning — the silence was at once empty and full, a sensation of utter absence and yet overwhelming presence, something strangely whole.”
See what I mean?
The Mekong by Milton Osborne is dense with information. It has become the Mekong Bible for anybody interested in the river’s history.
As well as being full of fascinating facts, Milton also shares some of the Mekong’s most incredible stories. It’s not necessarily a page-turner but the depth of Milton’s knowledge about the Mekong is unrivalled.
Baato Update
I’ve mentioned the documentary film, Baato, a couple of times. Director Lucas Millard kindly shared a copy of the film with me so I’ve finally been able to view it.
It’s a modestly understated, fly-on-the-wall documentary which follows a Nepalese family on a lengthy journey to sell medicinal herbs. There’s very little narrative, no obvious story arc, just a film that offers an unvarnished insight into what it might be like to accompany the family. It is certainly thought-provoking, which I’m sure was the main aim.
Undernourished by a recent diet of Netflix and Disney+, I yearn for more films like this. Talking of which, Honeyland is next on my list. Have you seen it? If so, let me know what you thought.
Baato is available in the United States on Amazon Prime and Lucas is in the process of making the film available outside the US.
I will let you know when Baato is available to stream — and I may be able to persuade Lucas to share a small discount with newsletter readers.
Competition Results
Thank you for all your entries for the Focal Length contest. I really thought I’d set a tricky challenge but Juha Wikström from Finland saw through my cunning ruse.
Both images were made with a 50mm lens.
In fact, the focal length and all exposure settings are identical in each frame: 1/4000, f/1.2, ISO100. The only variable? Yours truly.
It proves, I hope, that although gear is important, it’s the photographer’s final decisions about how near or far away to stand, how high or low, and how to frame a composition that always shapes the defining characteristics of a photograph.
I firmly believe that it’s possible to work quite happily with a single prime lens in most situations. Indeed, there’s an argument to be made that when we remove the foggy indecision that sometimes comes with having too many choices, we react more swiftly and more instinctively.
A copy of Pete Souza’s The West Wing and Beyond book is on it’s way to Juha, who says:
“What a great surprise! I used to shoot quite a lot with the 50mm and practiced zooming with my feet, so the pictures looked familiar. I also checked the depth-of-field and somehow it just made sense that it was the same focal length. I adore Pete Souza’s work, so the book is perfect prize for me.”
You can check out Juha’s photography on his website,
And a special mention to Matt Mendelsohn, who also suggested, “it’s a 50/50 trick question?” but, alas, it wasn’t Matt’s first guess. Next time, Matt!
There will be more competitions in future editions (and even more tantalising prizes).
For those of you who sent messages of support after reading news of my suspected kidney stone and impending hospital visit, you’ll be relieved to learn that Mrs. G’s diagnosis of Brie Overindulgence was, in fact, accurate. I have been placed on “Nil Brie By Mouth” orders.
So I’ve switched to Cheddar.
Hope you have a splendid week. Go well.
The "Nil Brie by Mouth" proscription seems to suggest that there are alternate ways of ingestion. What are you telling us? 😁