Shopping

I went to of all things the press conference pre-opening of yet another ghastly shopping mall in Vilnius last week. What a strange life getting paid to drink champagne first thing in the morning and pretend to take notes whilst three businessmen (in the local sense of the word) struggle to tell 50 unimaginative journalists what makes their new shopping mall different from all others (answer, nothing). This was all taking place in the mall itself, which if all went to plan opened a couple of hours ago. I say if all went to plan because when I was there it was chaos, with the toilets barlely plumbed in and thousands of shopgirls running around fitting out their new stores. The clothes shop immediately behind the press conference caught my attention, or rather these three creatures did. To be honest the reason I went was because the mall's got the first electric go-kart track in Lithuania, and we assembled hacks were all promised a ride. Instead I got bored and went and looked around a couple of churches.

Geert van Kesteren

Heaven knows where to post anything these days. I'm tempted to bang everybody's heads together and start a dictatorship. Whatever. I had a good session with John yesterday, doing what I do best and playing the voyeur as Kate and Lizzie laid their souls on the table. I was involved really, and among the topics up for discussion was the work of a photographer who used a mobile phone in Iraq. John couldn't remember the chap's name. It's Geert van Kesteren, and it turns out he doesn't actually take the photographs himself, rather he uses the mobile phone photography of Irqais who can get the kind of access denied to a Western photographer. Funny, as I'm doing something similar with my Dainius project. Anyways, for those interested, his work is currently showing in Brighton, in of all places Lighthouse, where I worked on and off for years. Small world.

Here's da link.

The Great War Archive

Excuse my grammar...

Whilst having a quick look around at things connected to WWI due to my own personal interest in the subject thanks to my grandfather who fought in it and whose photographs and other personal bits and pieces I recently scanned, I came across The Great War Archive. What I find particularly interesting about it (beyond that is my joy at knowing how useful the internet has become to people working in many different areas of historical research and publishing, and how this will all one day be of immense importance to the world) is that the project, run by Oxford University, has limited funds (and therefore time), so has created a Flickr group for people to keep adding to the project in an interesting way. There's also a blog. None of this is truly spectacular, but it's all part of what's clearly the nascent gurglings of a future electronic publishing phenomenom. Bedtime here so I'll have to get involved another day. Power to the people.

1964

The 13 main historic Vilnius languages

Belarusian
German
Karaite/Karaim
Latin
Lithuanian
Po Prostu
Polish
Proto-Lithuanian
Roma
Russian
Tartar
Ukrainian
Yiddish

Vilnius ethnicity since 1897

City of Vilna 1897
Jews (40.0%)
Poles (30.1%)
Russians (20.9%)
Belarusians (4.3%)
Lithuanians (2.1%)
Germans (1.4%)
Tatars (0.5%)
Ukrainians (0.3%)
Other (0.4%)
Source: 1897 Russian census

City of Wilna 1916
Poles (50.2%)
Jews (43.5%)
Lithuanians (2.6%)
Russians (1.5%)
Other (2.2%)
Source: 1916 German census

City of Wilno 1931
Poles (65.9%)
Jews (28.0%)
Russians (3.8%)
Belarusians (0.9%)
Lithuanians (0.8%)
Germans (0.3%)
Ukrainians (0.1%)
Others (0.2%)
Source: 1931 Polish census

City of Wilna 1942
Poles (41.89%)
Jews (27.78%)
Russians (1.95%)
Belarusians (2.55%)
Lithuanians (24.37%)
Germans (0.25%)
Other (1.21%)
Source: 1942 German census

City of Vilnius 1959
Lithuanians (33.6%)
Russians (29.4%)
Poles (20.0%)
Jews (7.0%)
Belarusians (6.2%)
Ukrainians (2.8%)
Other (1.0%)
Source: 1959 Soviet census

Vilnius city municipality 2001
Lithuanians (59.16%)
Poles (19.40%)
Russians (14.43%)
Belarusians (4.19%)
Source: 2001 Lithuanian census

Coincidences and side projects

As usual I’ve been thinking about completely changing the Borders project again. Over the last few days I’ve noticed that well over half of the photographs I take in Vilnius that ever get to see the light of day (ie. that get posted on a website somewhere) are taken at Kalvarijų Turgus (Kalvarijai Market). I’m still toying with the idea of moving the whole photographic show here, and will report back on the subject shortly. In the mean time, I just wanted to put this down on the subject. Proof once again if ever it was needed again that research is king. In 2002 I wrote about all of the different markets in Vilnius, including Kalvarijų Turgus. As luck would have it, I still have a copy of what I wrote, and using that as a starting point I was soon on a bizarre rollercoaster ride. During the Soviet occupation of Lithuania, Kalvarijų Turgus was named Dzeržinskio Turgus after the Belarusian-born Polish Jew, Felix Edmundovich Dzerzhinsky (1877-1926), who went to school in Vilnius and who’s best remembered as being the founder of the Bolshevik secret police, the Cheka. Lenin idolised Dzerzhinsky and considered him a true revolutionary hero. As such, all manner of things got named in his honour including a commune in Kharkiv, Ukraine, which in 1932 started an innovative programme using young homeless people to produce a replica of our old friend the Leica, the FED (as in Felix Edmundovich Dzerzhinsky). I became particular interested in Kalvarijų Turgus when I discovered that the back section of it features an impromptu set of stalls selling second-hand goods including the occasional Soviet-era camera. I thought this was really interesting and because I’d like to shoot film again I’ve come up with an idea for shooting a series of portraits of market stallholders. What would be perfect would be portraits of stallholders who once had a run-in with what the Cheka eventually became, the KGB. Wouldn’t that be interesting?

On a different note I’ve been approached by an English friend living in Vilnius who wants me to work with him on a project about Vilnius DJs. Part of the Vilnius City of Culture 2009 thing (see earlier posts), we’re currently talking about how to do it. I’m keen to use the Nokia, which I’ve been busy developing a philosophy for. Small is beautiful. Today I’ve been reading about miniature portrait painting, of whom the Flemish during the 16th century were arguably the best. My dad’s family came to England from that part of the world during the same century. More coincidences. Anyway, a formal project with a mobile phone is a challenge. Watch this space.