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Finding Kelowna  

Confessions of a street photographer

I meet a friend at our favourite coffee shop on Water Street. He is writing a book about Foncie Pulice, Vancouver street photographer, an iconic 45-year veteran of the candid image. I feel a kinship with Foncie. But in this age of stolen identities, paparazzi and the ubiquitous presence of cameras, the quest to capture souls is an uncertain passion.

One sunlit evening finds me at Stuart Park where mostly women dance, alone or together in a festival of motion. With camera, bag and cards I approach the heel-toe-stepping figures and focus on a young woman who licks an ice-cream cone. She is clearly aware that my camera is poised, but does not move. Her tongue flicks slowly, once, twice, giving 18 million pixels a perfect moment completed by a coy smile.

I skirt the lakeshore, past Ogopogo and the Sails, that leads to City Park. On the emerald grass a man fiercely tattooed and pierced like an urban tribesman releases a burst from my camera. Like Foncie I approach, and extend my card to a face framed by dreads and a goatee. His black eyes are not amused. And a Spanish accent protests photography without consent. My apology is proffered without explaining that seeking permission misses the moment. And when I volunteer to delete, red lips draw on a cigarette and surprise me by allowing my camera more.

I am intrigued by a pixied woman seated on a wooden bench. Her tanned arms are broom-sticks loosely covered by wrinkled skin. Wrists are crossed one over the other and posed ladylike on bronzed bare knees. And when I ask for her portrait a tight smile graciously approves and is followed by a strong scent of spirits. My viewfinder sees a weary movie star in a fox-fur vest, eyes hidden behind dark glasses. “Thank you!” she says, “God bless you!” She blows little kisses to a friend seated by tall sandy grasses, and when I leave, her voice casts pink petals of blessing toward me.

Night fills the day, and my camera, hungry for light, conveys me to Kerry Park where photons fall unevenly upon bands and spectators. A woman in faded blue-jeans dances alone; wild hair flailing the darkness; limbs telling stories to which only she is privy. I boldly ask, “Miss, I wonder if I could take some photos while you’re dancing?” And with surprise she says, “Sure!” So I snap freely until a young man approaches from behind. “I’m gonna say this only once,” He exclaims, “Stop taking pictures of her!” When she informs him, he is embarrassed and shakes my hand.

In the absence of light I am impelled by the wisdom of cameras to go home. My car drives Clement Street and pauses at a traffic light where I remember a story: A group of explorers makes first contact with an Amazonian tribe. In haste to capture the event, the photographer takes a ream of photos. And when he displays the images the natives think he has stolen their souls…which they redeem by killing and eating him. I wonder what Foncie would have said about this story?

This article is written by or on behalf of an outsourced columnist and does not necessarily reflect the views of Castanet.



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About the Author

Giovanni is a poet, columnist, interviewer and photographer. His passion for literature and the writing arts began at three years of age when his mother read to him the poems of Giovanni Pascoli.

Finding Kelowna, as he explains it in his website of the same name, is a focus on the ordinary events, people and things that often go unnoticed. Its purpose is to reveal the startling brilliance of everyday life which may be beautiful, tragic or bizarre. Giovanni does this in a creative way that spotlights the sudden encounters, poignant moments and unusual circumstances that pepper daily life.

Through chance conversations and unexpected occurrences, the tone and character of Kelowna and its surroundings is explored. In so doing, Giovanni hopes that the reader will catch a glimpse of himself and of humanity in all its glorious imperfection.

To comment on his columns you may write to him at [email protected]. You may read other articles he has written by viewing his website at www.findingkelowna.com.  You may view his photography blog at www.gioklik.com, and read his poems, stories and perspectives at www.yzed.wordpress.com.

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The views expressed are strictly those of the author and not necessarily those of Castanet. Castanet does not warrant the contents.

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