Egypt
circa 1870-80
This is most likely an Arabian (or
dromedary) camel, equipped with just one hump on which this particular rider
sits. The pose of both the animal and the human is, in this case, one in the
same: stationary, almost statuesque - lifeless. They merge into one thing; they
host the shape of a foreign decorative object representative of a contemporary
country - a lost kingdom - that at the time, any late nineteenth century
traveller could purchase as a flat momento meant to remind them of the dusty,
mysterious Egyptian peoples once back in the comforts of their home. The sandy
and colourless, dull sheen of this photograph makes it possible even now to
imagine how the dirt and rock and dry air that surrounded both the sitters and
the Greek photographers on the very day this photograph was taken felt and tasted. Unseen, they perhaps affected this little scene as they were not intended to. Or were they?
Is
the sitter's face - a gaping black hole - meant to be hidden? Is there supposed to be such harmony and
apparent ease in the chemistry of the sitters as there is in the actual way
they are positioned, calmly and perfectly centred? The Brothers Zangaki
specialised in creating images of easily understood motifs of the past, of
places seen as emblems of antiquity. But therein lies the irony: antiquity,
even in the 'present day', is and never will be easily or fully understood.
History is riddled with facts that, even if they appear to be as simple and
clear-cut as the very camel and rider whom we see in this photograph, are in
fact quite the contrary. Only the naïve eye may see solitude in this
photograph.
