Phil Borges began his career as an orthodontist. Now he travels the world
photographing indigenous people for organizations such as Amnesty International.
His current show, at the Photographic Image Gallery, is a glimpse at animistic
cultures (those that derive their faith and religions from animals) and the
cultures' shamans, whom Borges calls "spiritual mediators." Borges carries a
40-pound backpack of camera equipment to create studio-quality black-and-white
portraits. He then hand-tints his subjects' faces and bodies in the final prints,
making their skin and facial features look more natural. WWcaught up
with Borges while he was in Portland.
Willamette Week: Why did you want to photograph animistic tribes?
Phil Borges: I like their philosophy, for one thing. It's a universal philosophy
that seems to be almost indigenous to the human psyche. Aside from that, it's
a really connecting philosophy that believes everything in the natural world
has a spirit. It ties man to that which he is a part of--the environment. Our
culture's philosophy has separated us from the environment. You know, when I
grew up, people still used the term "man vs. nature" all the time.
Is this a new fascination with
this subject?
It's a fascination with the way these people work with the unseen. Before,
I focused on using my photography for human rights. But I wanted to go deeper.
All of these animistic cultures have a way of altering their consciousness,
by eating psychotropic plants, chanting and so on. And I wonder, since it's
universal, that there isn't something deep within all of us that makes this
valid.
After you left your orthodontics practice 20 years ago, you moved to Seattle
and began photographing people there. How did your early work shooting urban,
first-world people influence your
current work?
I don't know if it influenced my work. I can tell you of similarities between
the situations. I've found that when I went into the projects in Seattle there
was a strong sense of community. When I went to community centers, they were
packed every night with people interacting with each other. That is similar
to the indigenous communities. They live communally. Their sense of community
is very rich. Their state of community is very rich. When you went into
my neighborhood, which was middle-class, there was no one at the community center.
It made me realize how isolated, relatively, I was. I don't know my neighbors.
How do you approach the
people you photograph?
When I go into a small, isolated tribe, I'm traveling with a guide. The guide
is an interpreter and also tells me what is appropriate. I always go in and
find the kids first, as they are more open. They're curious, whereas the adults
are suspicious. I give them Polaroids--I always give everyone I photograph Polaroids.
I make it a group process. One kid might be holding a light, another holds a
shade. We have fun with it. Then they'll take the Polaroids to the parents.
Then the parents let me into their homes because they want Polaroids, too. I
typically talk in English and let them know I'm friendly and curious with my
body language and my face.
At the end of your book Enduring Spirit, you write about the "encroachment"
of first-world cultures onto tribal cultures in negative terms. Yet your photographs
are products of someone from our culture visiting those cultures. Are you a
part of the encroachment?
Definitely. But I don't speak negatively about encroachment or invasion. Our
cultures are going to come together, and most of the indigenous people want
the modern world. They just don't want to sell out their traditions to get it.
Anybody who thinks these people are going to stay in these isolated, zoological
islands don't have their feet on the ground. My hope is that cultures will come
together with equal respect. It can't be Westerners coming in to save the natives
or, like for the past 100 years, dominate the natives. The thing that's dangerous
is the indigenous kids see the material things we have and want them. The more
we show curiosity and respect, the more these kids will value what they've got.
If someone tells you you're a good writer and they value your writing, you'll
write more. I'm trying to bring dignity and respect to these people--show their
magnificence. Tomorrow, I'm going to National Geographic in Washington,
D.C., to discuss creating some method in which children in our culture can communicate
with children in indigenous cultures via the Internet. It'll be like a "Day
in the Life" project. So we can bridge these cultures and bring about understanding.
To whose work would you most liken your own?
I really admire Edward Curtis, especially with the technology he was using.
He was painting emulsion onto glass plates on the back of covered wagons. I
have it much easier. I have roll film.
REVIEW/INTERVIEW
