Author: Damian Mendieta
Situated on a majestic hill in Century City, the elegant structure of the Annenberg Space for Photography could very well be a portal into another world. That is the case with their latest exhibit entitled “No Strangers.”
An exposé of the plight of Indigenous groups around the globe, the display includes the work of more than a dozen photographers across the last decade. From the regal Andes mountains of South America to a serene martial arts temple in South East Asia and the harrowing reservation life of the Lakota in South Dakota, “No Strangers” urges that humanity is not as different as imperialistic and racist perceptions hold it to be.
The exhibit begins with a compelling documentary that fuses aesthetics and cultural reverential analysis. Rather than exoticize the roaring plains of Mongolian nomads or the lush vegetation of African Pygmies, two of many regions covered by the exhibit, the film seeks to educate against the degradation of Indigenous culture. Distinguished linguists, anthropologists and photographers passionately ostracize the systemic, capitalistic and inhumane destruction that leads many Indigenous groups into a struggle for survival.
A honeycomb of walls surrounds the screening room with vivid and powerful images taken to create the documentary. The inspiration of the entire exhibit can be felt as a diverse set of emotions such as sorrow, wonder and respect surface throughout the gallery walk.
The nearest sets of photographs are grouped under the title “Globalization.” A description explains that while globalization has been lauded by many as a great human accomplishment for its financial entailments, there are also negative effects. Bleak harrowing narratives emerge in these photographs that shine a light towards the less honorable effects of globalization.
The next set of photographs reveal a chicken-processing factory, where countless poor Indigenous Chinese laborers are little more than slaves dressed in pink hazard suits. A disposable setting and mode encompasses the ordeal these Chinese people face in and out of their menial jobs. The poisonous fumes that the factory belches and the dangerous tasks these workers endure all contribute to the gradual destruction of their homes and of their own health.
The adjacent photographs depict Amazonian Pygmies traversing through their home forests with effortless grace. However, the next image shows them under harsh working conditions as they must destroy their own beloved woodland in order to make ends meet. Cruel irony bestows these images as financial forces hold agency in the forest that once belonged to the Pygmies.
On the opposite side of the gallery hang several large images by Steve McCurry, a photographer who specializes in the Himalayan region. A Tibetan child and father hold each other to combat their frigid fear as they flee through a mountain pass with an ancient machine gun in tow. Next, a young child looks without expression into the camera as a grounded 1950’s era Chinese jet fighter looms in the distance, a testament of totalitarian rule.
As the exhibit progresses, the viewer is taken to Hamid Sardar-Afkhami’s images of the vast and seemingly peaceful plains of Mongolia. With a handsome eagle perched on one arm and another hand on the stirrup of a reindeer, a young hunter-in-training appears larger than life. In another shot, a Mongolian shaman beckons a young bear closer as he clasps a ceremonial staff. The peace of the Mongolian steppe is epitomized by one shot of a tiny child sleeping while reclining on the belly of a shaggy snoozing Reindeer.
This bubble of ease bursts in the next images. A young Mongolian girl is presented with her meager freezing surroundings as the cruel reality of the nomad’s life rises. In a photo taken two years later, she is now in grammar school with a battered notebook, ragamuffin attire and without her family. Her eyes now seem to carry a burden within, a load that should not be lifted by one so tender in age.
A few steps away from these images are Aaron Huey’s photographs of Lakota Sioux on their South Dakotan reservation. Communal living persists among these peoples in their celebration of the Battle of the Little Bighorn as they partake in cleansing steam baths and in their maintenance after a brutal windstorm. Solitude persists in the shadows of the reservation as a lone young man’s ordeals are seen inside his withered ramshackle home.
The exhibit contains far more pictures that can all be traced back to one unifying theme. Ancient wisdom enriches the modern world, and it may disappear completely. Planetary diversity ties humans together far deeper than most believe, and it’s preservation must be championed.
The exhibit runs until Feb. 24 and is open from Wednesday to Sunday. There is no charge for admission, and the gallery validates parking at a reduced rate.
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