Neruda portrayed through images and words

By Parvathi Nayar Narayan

JAKARTA (JP): Luis Poirot's photographic exhibition, Portraying the Absence, is a sensitive memorial that celebrates Neruda and his poetry.

Pablo Neruda is the pen name of Neftali Ricardo Reyes Basoalto, born in Chile in 1904. He could be called a poet- diplomat, having served Chile in many consular and diplomatic posts around the globe. His poetry is noted for its striking imagery -- he is, after all, the poet who spoke of the "...dazzlement of butterflies" and " ... Of conversations as worn out as old wood" -- but his language was always simple and direct. He is credited with creating his own particular style of poetry that deeply influenced other poets and writers of the 20th century.

Surreal is an adjective that has been used to describe some of Neruda's work, so it is fitting that many of Poirot's photographs in the exhibition have a surreal quality to them. There are intriguing images of open doors, steps, rough stone walls and plaster heads, accompanied by equally intriguing words --

...Our shoes on the stairs

awakened

other ancient

footsteps

The pictures need the poet's words to be fully appreciated. It is this juxtaposition that makes the exhibition interesting and gives it another dimension. As they are otherwise untitled, the quotations not only serve as titles but are sometimes entry points into the pictures.

The only problem is that the exhibition has no translations. All the written matter is in Spanish, and this is a major drawback for non-Spanish speakers. The casual onlooker, who has no access to literature outside the room, is robbed, as it were, of a whole level of understanding. There are, however, plans to have a folder of translations on hand, before the exhibition closes.

Visually, the exhibition is well put together, with each large, black-and-white photograph and its accompanying words framed simply and separately in blonde wood.

The photographer Luis Poirot is also from Chile, and has worked as a professional photographer since 1965. He has taught photography in several institutions like the Catholic University of Chile in Santiago and the International Photography Centre in Barcelona. He has also held several exhibitions of his work.

Fernando Berguno, third secretary and consul, Embassy of Chile, told The Jakarta Post that part of the reason the exhibition had come about was because Neruda's widow, Matilde, had commissioned Poirot to take pictures of her and her husband's three homes.

Some of the interior shots are almost like a narrative. In one example a carved horse reminiscent of those in fairgrounds lies on its side on the floor. It is inside a room packed with furniture. The only visible link to the outside world is a semicircular window, and its brilliant crescent of light dominates the upper left of the picture. An air of neglect, an Ozymandias-like quality, pervades the whole scene. The snatch of poetry accompanying it translates as

Generals,

traitors:

see my dead house...

This is indicative of the political side of Neruda. He held strong views indeed, and from 1943, especially, he was deeply involved in his country's politics. He later became a political exile; incidentally it was around this part of the poet's life that one of this year's Oscar nominated movies, Il Postino (The Postman) was made. In 1971 the poet received what many thought was a long overdue Nobel Prize for literature, and died in Santiago two years later.

The interiors of Neruda's homes reveal another of his interests -- nautical memorabilia. There are porthole shaped windows, models of ships and their steering wheels, a globe and most notably, the figure heads of ships. The latter are in the form of women, whose serene faces recall the plaster votive figures typical of 'della Robbia ware' or even Hellenistic statuary.

Judging by their numbers, they seem to have held a special place in the poet's heart. However some shots of these figures tend to be hazy and lack impact. This is unlike the main body of the photographs which exploit the drama of black and white.

Of the exterior shots taken by Poirot, the most interesting is a stark shot of an anchor as it lies askew in the sand and scrub. Beyond the powerful diagonals created by the anchor is a vista of sea and sky. The poet speaks of it somewhat wistfully

...for it came here to sleep

and I cannot return it to the sea.

Now it will not sail in any ship.

Nor will it anchor save in my stubborn dreams.'

The exhibition can be basically divided into three parts -- the interiors and exteriors of his homes, portraits of his friends (many of them artists in different fields) and portraits of Neruda himself, taken with empathy and affection. Poirot has captured the poet in a variety of moods. A smiling profile with chin cupped in hand, or looking quizzically from under a beret, or exuberant with hands flung wide.

Striking a somewhat darker note, he is seen in as a silhouette against a window, the light streaming in illuminating only his books, papers and work things on the table in front of him.

The order of the pictures is interesting. The first picture of the exhibition is an open, smiling Neruda that draws the viewer into the show. The last frame is a back view in which the poet's face is invisible. He walks away from the observer aided by a stick and accompanied by the words --

...Perhaps the earth can teach us

as when everything seems dead

and later proves to be alive.

A sentiment borne out by the exhibition that brings to life the late poet. Though small, the exhibition's format is surprisingly evocative. There is a quality of suggestion rather than an explicit statement that is so reflective of Neruda's work. I am reminded of a critic who said of Neruda's poetry, "Instead of the traditional procedure, which describes a reality and suggests its poetic sense between the lines, poets like Neruda describe the poetic sense and nebulously suggest to which reality it refers."