August 2006 Archives

Breast Stories has said it many times but our existence is dedicated to promoting understanding between men and women.

It's a tall order. Maybe even a fantasy. Certainly only and idealist would try and many people won't like the approach we take.

However, from the beginning, one of our deepest passions is to develop a new language which enables this dialogue to occur.

It strikes us today that language must be based on a deep and respectful tenderness for what do breasts represent if not tenderness.

Even though we belong to the species, we have been critical of men for their disrespect for women. But tenderness would have us understanding that it is a difficult task. Learning the new language takes courage, but before courage comes the need to have knowledge. Knowledge about what we do and the effects we have. This knowledge requires a language. So we are caught in a loop.

Yet tenderness and gentleness rather than argument and anger may be able to shift perceptions on all sides.

Women need to understand that it can be really difficult being a man today. Many of the roles we built for ourselves have been torn down — some of them quite rightly. But others that are to do with our valuable contribution to society used to give us a sense of worth. With many traditional jobs disappearing we can find it hard to find a role that seems to fit.

Of course none of this excuses violence or anger towards women, but it might help to explain. Explaining might leed to understanding. Understanding might leed to different actions — for both men and women.

At the heart surely it would help if we found the tenderness within us.

Breast Stories will start by looking freshly for that new language.

I was sure I had mentioned Jordan Matter before, but I can't find his name anywhere in this blog.

Following the Janet Jackson Superbowl incident, Jordan decided to photograph women topfree in the streets of New York to document the public outrage it would cause. To his surprise, there was very little reaction.

(Since 1992, it has been legal for women to be topfree in New York, anywhere it is acceptable for a man to do so.)

What followed was his "Uncovered" project -- a collection of the photos and a tribute to women. His project does in pictures, what Breast Stories tries to do with words.

Lately, Matter has added his Interviews with his subjects. What you get is nothing like the standard "measurements and favourite things" you associate with men's magazine pinup bios. Rather the stories ring true and give you an insight into what the subject thinks about her body. Some of them are quite moving.

Jordan has also recently added some interesting video segments.

I find Jordan's approach quite refreshing. I hope it may inform my own Breast Stories Project.

Friday's Financial Review carried an article entitled "Sex Case: It was friendly"*

The article is about a sexual harassment case brought by a partner in one of Australia's (and the world's) largest companies "alleging 'a culture of discrimination, harassment and bullying', claiming numerous male partners sexually harassed her while management failed to adequately adress her complaints."

Regular readers will know that one of Breast Stories most passionate desires is to see the elimination of all forms of sexual harassment. The AFR article goes on to say:

"[The company] admits that at a young leader's conference in 2004, a video was shown including a woman sunbathing topless after which a partner asked: 'Christina, is that you sunbathing on the beach?'"

I know a lot of men would complain about Christina's reaction. I can hear them complaining "You can't say anything anymore." But what was the subtext of the partner's comment? What he was really saying was "I would like to see your breasts." Put that way it was clearly an offensive comment.

But I wonder what the subtext to the subtext was. Why do we men make comments like that? My guess is it is because we really want to say "I find you attractive" or "I think you are quite beautiful." But that would put us in a vulnerable position. We have expressed our inner selves and face rebuttal. To say either of these things is not to say "I've fallen in love with you." It's not an advance. It's just stating how we feel. The problem is that we fear your response. So to protect ourselves we put you down and try to make you feel powerless. That's because from the time we first began to notice girls, we have never had (or made) the opportunity to talk about how we feel. So we have no language to talk about how we feel about you.

Breast Stories is about finding that language. In particular it is about finding a language for how we feel about breasts as part of finding a language to speak about our attraction to women. As Christina's case shows, and every woman knows, breasts are part of the workplace. We men need to learn to express our attraction with dignity and respect.

*I can't post a link to this article because AFR requires payment even to get to the link now. If you would like a copy of the article, contact me and I will send it to you.

I've recently been reading Alan Briskin's book The Stirring of Soul in the Workplace. During the introduction he discusses why soul is important and it is only through soul that we see things that we would otherwise completely miss.

To illustrate his point he recounts the frustrations of a photography expedition in the Yosemite Valley. Instead of the beautiful views he was expecting, he had to struggle through bitter cold, incessant rain and low cloud. He though it was going to be a wasted journey. However, the group's instructor encouraged them to continue on. To allow themselves to become accustomed to the light and the ever so slightly changing moods of the weather and light. She told them "Art does not reproduce the visible. Art renders visible."

Not long after this, there was a slight break in the clouds and Briskin was able to record some amazing photos.

This stirred me quite deeply. It made me think about The Project. The goal in photography is to tell a story. To make something visible to the viewer they would not have seen even if they were there.

It reminded me of something else from a couple of years ago. I was working on a project with a colleague over about a nine month period. Towards the end of the project, my colleague said to me "You see things other people don't."

It was quite amazing some weeks later at a parent teacher evening hearing my Year 11 daughter's photography teacher saying "Elise's photography is quite special. She sees things other people don't. That's something inate. You can't teach that."

In a similar vein, when I was taking piano lessons again about five years ago, my teacher told me "You play with more senistivity than the vast majority of people on the professional circuit." (She didn't say, and didn't need to, that my technique, although improving, was barely adequate for amateur hour.)

I've always known that I see things that others miss. Sometimes, I see them in my mind as a sense. Other times, I just notice things. I might notice for instance, that someone is deeply sad. Or that they are in a deeply peaceful moment.

Sadly, for most of my life I haven't done anything with this "seeing" — except in a few very special relationships.

Breast Stories is one attempt to use my ability more publicly. It's risky and very often it is clumsy. "Seeing" is easy for me. Translating the deepest seeing into words is something I'm not used to. With some topics it is easier than others. Breast Stories is undoubtably the most difficult. It feels like it is getting easier. But sometimes I seem to go backwards.

The Project is another way of rendering my seeing visible. I love being behind the lens of a camera. I've taken thousands of photos of cliffs and rocks, the sea and the mountains with a few photos of people that stand out. Of all of them, I love the photos of people. I often seem to capture something that even I didn't see when I clicked the shutter.

I am currently have an idea for the first phase of The Project. I am calling it "One Thousand Faces". Last year I got my old Pentax serviced for the first time in its 30 year life. My idea is to take this beautiful camera out into the streets and capture one thousand different faces. I'll need to get organised and decide exactly how I approach people or alternatively invite people. I'll need to work out details like model releases and how I will publish the results. I'm not in a rush to do this and I want to do it properly and sensitively.

I hope One Thousand Faces will be a worthy project in itself . But it will also give me a chance to re-orient myself with my camera. To get used to the feel of it in my hands and allowing myself to feel when the picture is ready to be taken. It will also give me the chance to re-learn the technical aspects of picture taking — like lighting, film speed and composition.

It's like learning to play the piano over again. One Thousand Faces is like learning a Chopin Prelude. When I've accomplished that, I'll know if I'm ready for and capable of the Beethoven Sonata of The Project. Or maybe I'll have to learn a couple of other Preludes first.

However this plays out, my goal is to render visible.