A fascination with cemeteries?

In earlier posts I’ve mentioned that I’ve been looking for a focus for my photography. The conventional wisdom seems to be that you should photograph things which you are “passionate” about and I’ve struggled to discover what that is. I’m interested in a lot of different things, but not really “passionate” about any of them (I’m British after all and and they tend to knock “passion” out of us at an early age).

I do know what kinds of photography I’m not much interested in: anything involving people (moreover I’m never sure about the legality of using the people photographs I take, and I’m aware that nowadays many people do not like their picture to be taken); wildlife photography (this would interest me, but I think I lack the patience and the expensive gear that seems to be required); sports photography (I never go to live sports events and rarely watch sports even on TV).

I’ve also had a few false starts. I once thought I was interested in landscape photography and I guess I still am to a certain extent, but it’s not something that I get really enthusiastic about. I continue to have an interest in old, preferably ruined buildings, but they can be hard to find.

Recently, however, I noticed that I take a lot of pictures of cemeteries. As I’ve mentioned before it’s not because of an obsession with death. Quite the contrary. When I take I pictures in cemeteries I rarely (if ever) think about the people who are buried there. To me cemeteries are pleasant, tranquil places with interesting architecture; picturesque statuary; and beautiful trees, shrubs, plants and flowers. The only time I think of the people buried there is when there is an interesting story behind one of the gravestones or mausoleums.

Could it be that cemeteries are my “passion”? In a recent post (How I found my passion in life) Eric Kim states: “But honestly in today’s world, we use the word ‘passion’ and ‘enthusiasm’ interchangeably. So let’s continue, assuming you want to find your passion or what you are enthusiastic about.” This sounds about right to me. I don’t jump up in the morning thinking I’ve absolutely got to go and take pictures of a cemetery. However, a trip to the two large cemeteries (Greenwood in Brooklyn, and Woodlawn in the Bronx) in New York City that I haven’t yet visited does make my heart beat a little faster. We may go to visit our daughter in Europe later this year and I’m really excited about the possibility of getting to Père Lachaise Cemetery in Paris.

In their excellent book: “On being a photographerBill Jay and David Hurn identify the following as the “basic principles of subject selection”:

Is it visual? You can safely eliminate such fascinating (to you) topics as existential philosophy or the Old Testament or the existence of intelligent life on other planets.

Is it practical? You can cut out topics which are difficult or impossible to photograph at your convenience on a regular basis. For example, if I were a photographer of limited means living in, say, Denver, I would have to eliminate the topic of Japanese pagodas, at least as far as photography is concerned. Or I would cut out an interest in famous film stars — the subject must be not only practical but continually accessible.

Is it a subject about which I know enough? Eliminate those subjects about which you are ignorant, at least until you have conducted a good deal of research into the topic. For example, you are not contributing anything to the issue of urban poverty by wandering back streets and snatching pictures of derelicts in doorways. That’s exploitation, not exploration.

Is it interesting to others? This is a tricky one, but it is worth asking yourself: if you have several remaining topics all of which are equally fascinating, which one is interesting to others? This is tricky only in that it ignores the issue of your intended audience, which might be a small, specialized one, and the issue of pandering to public appeal.

How does my cemetery idea stack up against these criteria?

Is it visual?. Absolutely!
Is it practical?. Definitely! There are lots of them around: small, medium and large; old and new etc.
Is it a subject about which I know enough?. Yes. I already know quite a lot about cemeteries, their history and symbology and my knowledge continues to grow.
Is it interesting to others?. As Jay and Hurn point out “this is a tricky one”. Many people (including my wife) don’t like cemeteries and don’t like to be reminded of death. However, judging by the number of books, websites, blogs etc. related to cemeteries there are also quite a few people who have an interest. In any case I take pictures largely for myself not for other people.

While thinking about this post I started to wonder where this interest in cemeteries might have come from and then it hit me: I grew up right next to one. The picture at the top of this post is an aerial view of Sandbach cemetery in the town where I grew up. In the top right corner you’ll see a red marker, which shows the house were I lived from birth to about 8 years old. I have few memories of my early childhood, but I feel sure that a curious child would certainly have explored this area. I certainly remember walking past the entrance many times.

Community church of Yorktown cemetery – A lamb

Worn statue of a lamb on top of a grave marker. According to Stories in Stone: A Field Guide to Cemetery Symbolism and Iconography:

In funerary art, lambs usually mark the graves of children and particularly infants symbolizing innocence. The lamb is one of the most frequently used symbols of Christ in all periods of Christian art. Christ is often depicted as a shepherd but he is also referred to as the Lamb of God, as in John 1:29 – “Behold the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world”.

Christian, Jewish and Muslim cultures all have their sacrificial lambs tied to vernal (springtime) rites of renewal: Jewish Passover, Christian Easter, and Muslim Ramadan.

Williams burial plot

Another small Putnam County Cemetery. Putnam Graveyards refers to it as being in Kent and adds “about .9 mile from Peekskill Hollow Road intersection on the Richardsville road. Not visible from the road.” I haven’t been able to find out any additional information.

It’s up above the Richardsville road, and while it’s true that it’s not visible from the road, the blue marker is – just.

There are only a few graves and it’s pretty much your typical small cemetery in the woods. The only grave marker that I found of interest was the one on the right in the picture below. It has an interesting raised scroll and what look to me like oak leaves (According to Douglas Keister in Stories in Stone. A Field Guide to Cemetery Symbolism and Iconography: “oak leaves can symblolize many things including strength, endurance, eternity, honor, liberty, hospitality, faith and virtue”).

Amawalk Hill Cemetery – The big surprise

In the overview post to this series of pictures on Amawalk Hill Cemetery I mentioned that I had a big surprise in store. As I was walking around I noticed what looked like a large glass display case. It seemed such a strange thing to come across beside the gravestones in the woods that I went over to look. Inside were a number of photographs and as I continued looking it gradually dawned on me that I was familiar with them: they were the work of Robert Capa. Why were they here. Obviously my brain wasn’t working too well. Then it hit me: they were there because it was here that Capa was buried. Sure enough there was his gravestone.

I’m passionate about photography and here was the last resting place of one of the all time greats. Time magazine recently published its list of the 100 most influential photographers of all time and Capa is one of only three photographers to have more than one picture included (the other two are Eddie Adams and Margaret Bourke-White).

Many of his photographs are well-known, but the one below is possibly the most famous. He was killed in 1954 at the age of 40 in Thai Binh, Vietnam after he stepped on a landmine while photographing the France/Vietnam war.

FRANCE. Normandy. June 6th, 1944. US troops assault Omaha Beach during the D-Day landings (first assault). Source: © Robert Capa © International Center of Photography/Magnum Photos via OmegaPhotoBlog

So here we have a Jewish photographer of Hungarian origins buried in a quaker cemetery. I wondered why? According to the Wikipedia entry on the Amawalk Friends Meeting House:

In 1954 war photographer Robert Capa, whose gritty “Magnificent Eleven”, taken under heavy German fire, are considered iconic images of the Normandy landings during World War II, died after he stepped on a land mine in Vietnam while covering the First Indochina War. John Morris (as I’m writing this post Mr. Morris just celebrated his 100th birthday a week ago), Capa’s editor at Life magazine in London during the Normandy landings and at Magnum Photos at the time of his death, felt that a Quaker funeral would be a fitting tribute to Capa, a nonobservant Jew who had immigrated from Hungary. Morris’ reasoning was that, even though Capa had not been a Quaker, he sought to promote peace through his depictions of the horrors of war. As a member of the Purchase Quarterly Meeting, which oversaw Amawalk, he arranged for a Quaker service there. At the service, Capa’s brother Cornell said Kaddish. A young Dirck Halstead was among the attendees.

The few remaining members of the Amawalk meeting allowed Capa to be buried in their cemetery. Later his mother and sister-law were buried in the same plot, and Capa’s biographer Richard Whelan joined them when he died. In 2008 Cornell, who had founded the International Center for Photography during the intervening years, was laid to rest alongside his brother. None of them were Quakers.