IMAGING THE INVISIBLE, NAMING SUFFERING
Lincoln Clarkes, Photography, and the
Women of Downtown Eastside Vancouver
By Paul Ugor
Published by Simon Fraser University,
West Coast Line 53, 2007.
. . .
Within a five-year period, beginning in 1996, Lincoln Clarkes shot four hundred different photographs of women with drug addictions in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside. The project began when Clarkes took a picture of his long-time friend, Leah, “shootingup” against the backdrop of a Calvin Klein billboard starring Kate Moss in the autumn of that year.¹ Soon after, Clarkes began taking photographs of many of the neighborhood’s women; when asked why he concentrated only on women, he responded: “I approach it like Titanic going down: women and children first. I don’t have enough life boats.”(Smith 18) In 1998, Clarkes organized a solo exhibition at the Helen Pitt Gallery with about forty different pictures he had taken of the women, which he tagged Photographs. In 1999, he held another exhibition, this time with a hundred of the photographs, which he retagged Heroines. These photographs were later to become a publication by Anvil Press of the same title in 2002.² The Heroines photo project has now won a number of awards both locally and internationally. But as Clarkes went about photographing his heroin-addicted models, they were also missing in very strange circumstances. Today, about sixtynine (maybe more) women are suspected missing from that neighborhood, five of whom were actually photographed by Clarkes.³ Taken together, the Heroines project is what a Los Angeles Times staff writer described as “photographs that speak about obsession—a young woman’s fatal fixation with drugs, a photographer’s addiction to capturing her crumbling beauty, and a predator’s sick need to take her life.”(Glionna 08) Debates about the exploitation of the female subjects of Clarkes’ photos centre around the women’s consent to their images being taken, the amount paid to them, their awareness of the extent of the circulation of the images, and the general social value of the project. If they do understand the terms of their consent, as some of the women insist, then questions still arise about who owns the images thereafter. Who controls what they are used for and how far the images go? Though it may seem quite infantalizing to imagine naivety on the part of these women, critics argue that we may never foreclose possibilities of exploitation with subjects living in such dire circumstances at the very margins of society. For instance, Clarkes offers his clients just five-dollars, cigarettes, biscuits, and other incidentals for a pose. Although in the short run this may have offered much-needed sustenance to the women from the Downtown Eastside, it obviously would have been an unthinkably ridiculous offer to any average model in the fashion/ modeling circuits anywhere in the world. But beyond this straightforward critique of Clarkes’ pictures, there are other troubling social issues that the Heroines project inflects. For instance, institutionally, authorities represent the Downtown Eastside of Vancouver and its inhabitants as a social space where crime, addiction, and poverty are “constructed as choices; as the results of personal will, rather than as faults in the social system.” (Warner- Marien xiv) It is this kind of institutional rhetoric about the Downtown Eastside, a rhetoric that ignores the foundational historical and social dynamics that underlie the lives of Clarkes’ subjects that Heroines challenges and re-clarifies. Caroline Knowles and Paul Sweetman argue that “visual data connect and refract, capturing the specificity of social processes and phenomena, and thereby illustrating the general in the particular while also offering a particular means of illuminating and exploring the relationship between the two.” (13) The images in Clarkes’ photos may only narrativize isolated cases of individual struggles, but in reality they also unmask the crass indifference and very deep institutional decay that have long been taken for granted in the Canadian social imaginary. So it is precisely in embodying the untold and intangible aspects of the lives of the women of the Downtown Eastside that the photographs of Lincoln Clarkes become a tool for a new social engagement. The Heroines project becomes what Howard Becker calls “photographs as evidence” (193)—of social injustice in a social reform campaign. Visual representations such as Clarkes’ transmute from innocuous entertainment pieces to lethal political weapons wielded for a social debate or argument. Thus, pictures begin to serve as quotations legitimizing arguments and social positions. In this social agenda of visual representation, images shed their creative essence to assume a utilitarian value, invoking and re-inscribing certain discarded and forgotten social problems onto the public map. In fact, photographs in this new discursive framework begin to function as testimonials of cultural experiences of struggle, pain, sorrow, and deprivation. The human body and the scars it bears, especially as taken up by photographs, convert to new kinds of writing: a tableau vivant of un-witnessed experiences in social history. But in the case of the Heroines photo-essay, it is an inscription that bears testimony to the inequity in power relations between the women of Downtown Eastside Vancouver and the larger Canadian society. By capturing the bodies of his subjects, Clarkes unravels for us a novel kind of literature through which we can read the struggles of these often overlooked women who live at the very periphery of our society, and whose lives do not count, especially in the larger scheme of things that matter to the state and its tiny class of privileged citizens in this so-called moment of “late capitalism.” Through Clarkes’ pictures, he “names” the suffering of the women of the Downtown Eastside for a complacent public and an indifferent state. As a form of popular urban art expression, Heroines refers us to the “concerns, experiences and struggles” of common people. (Barber 1997) Radically innovative, Heroines “names,” in graphic details, the day to day struggles, pain, troubles, challenges, and risks of the women of the Downtown Eastside. It catalogues their struggle against institutional/government torture (see picture 14 in the collection of photos published by Anvil Press); an abandoned and unhealthy environment (Pictures 8, 9 & 35); against the harshness of nature such as weather and climate (Picture 38); illhealth (Pictures 42 & 49); emotional pain (Picture 81); loneliness, solitude, and abandonment (Picture 26); subsistence (Picture 95) and above all drugs (Pictures 4 & 23). Clarkes argues he is “documenting [the women’s] spirit, their strength, their agony” (Smith 18). But he does this precisely through a stark and uncomplicated art devoid of the refinedness that is usually associated with genteel cultural forms, which the elite class is used to consuming. Expectedly, Clarkes turns his camera gaze to the women’s bodies as the site of that discourse in order to show how the larger forces of society play out their influences on defenseless individual body polities. As visual testimonies, or evidence of endured pain and torture, the women’s bodies name their suffering eloquently. The pictures tell of bodily harm such as facial wounds (Picture104), broken arms (Picture59), fractured feet (Picture 49), frail bodies (Picture 82), diseased skin (Picture 99), and so forth. In their realness, not in terms of exactitude, but in terms of their rawness, Clarkes’ pictures spill raw truth to viewers of a national public unwilling to deal with the realities of its mistakes and administrative blunders. Through these images, Vancouver is, according to one reviewer “discovering its entire body politic, the unacknowledged parts of its anatomy— vulgar and dangerous—that polite discussion always avoids.” (Koepke 01) The portraiture of the seedy environment of the Downtown Eastside is also another form of “naming suffering” for the purposes of social justice and reform. Nurturing and maintaining a decent and safe living environment for every citizen of every nation is one of the most elementary responsibilities of constituted authorities the world over. Clarkes’ pictures of a dingy habitation for the women of the Downtown Eastside shed a significant sidelight on how government abdicates its responsibility to the very people it has sworn to serve and protect. By depicting the women’s environment, Clarkes redefines that social space; from Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside as a site of moral decay and social insecurity to a sphere of social struggle; from a threatening social space deserving institutional surveillance to a place worthy and deserving of government attention, care, and public sympathy. Space as a narrative object, then, is redefined, re-imaged, reconfigured, and hence made apparent as in need of rehabilitation. The environment against which Clarkes cast his subjects is a narrative of untold and endured hardship of a class of people haunted by the sins and crimes of a bygone history. The pictures are visual narratives of the ongoing, sometimes seemingly permanent victimhood of the women. The landscape tells of an apathetic government, indifferent public, prolonged environmental health threats, and a vulnerable social safety net. With regards to the accusations levelled against Clarkes’ project as a glamourization of drug addiction, I propose to attempt a defense—which is not to suggest that there are no merits to such criticisms, but that there is a flip side to the argument, which has seldom been broached. The history of photography as an art, for instance, points to the fact that traditionally, photographs, and in particular glamourous public portraiture such as modeling, have been the exclusive privilege of the aristocratic class. As a professional photographer practicing in Paris and London, Lincoln Clarkes has shot prominent models and other media celebrities, who may themselves have been addicted to drugs (not unlike the women of the Downtown Eastside). The picture of Leah shooting against the Kate Moss billboard, for instance, is a subtle commentary on the paradoxical and ironic realities surrounding glamour, drug addiction, and prostitution. Many models are known to abuse drugs, maintain a plethora of sexual relationships, and even cause disturbances or spectacles in public. The many gossip columns of glossy celebrity magazines and TV shows in North America attest to this fact.4 But because such social misconduct radiates from supposedly respectable upper-class quarters, these women are seldom derided in the same manner that the lives of the Downtown Eastside women are. When the misconducts of these upperclass celebrities are given any attention, they are often construed as the usual fare that accompanies success in the field of culture in North America. It appears to me then that Clarkes’ apparent fault is to have made those from the very lowest wrung of the social strata taste that which is exclusively reserved only for an elite class. According to John Glionna, “Clarkes wanted to depict more than the women’s troubles; he wanted to show their radiance,” (03) So is Clarkes’ crime as an artist to have emitted “radiance” from supposedly “dark quarters”? By paying attention to the physical bodies of the Downtown Eastside women and the deplorable environment around them, Clarkes provides us with alternative angles and binoculars from which to see and comprehend how power relations are textualized on the bodies and geographical space of these marginalized women. The dents we see in the physical bodies and social spaces of the pictures point to distortions in the larger scheme of things in a society that prides itself, and indeed is praised from outside, for social welfarism and social equity. According to Glionna, “[Clarkes’] images unsettled many people in a country that prides itself on its polite order and a tightly woven social safety net.” (02) The pictures are a new form of calligraphy inscribing a version of a nation’s sordid social history largely unknown to the world and unacknowledged by constituted authorities. As a form of popular culture, Clarkes’ pictures are poignant social records of the experience of ordinary people amongst us, and the myriad of social forces that shape their difficult social existence. . . .Footnotes
- This photograph first appeared at the Saints and Sinners 50/50 Benefit Show on Hastings Street and was handtitled Leah on Heroin.
- They were also hosted on a web gallery, downtowneastside.com. This website, initiated and funded by geologist Bob Basil (one of Clarkes’ patrons), was later to be dismantled because of mounting public controversy.
- See http://www.missingpeople.net
- A number of cases come to mind here. The sensationall erotic public showings of Paris Hilton, Jessica Simpson, the now late Anna Nicole, and a host of other countless “Hollywood baddies” are all public displays which are conceptualized very differently by the North American public than those of the women of the Downtown Eastside.
[…] Clarkes&8217; Heroines project stirred polemic in the late 90s&8217; Vancouver. It took shape as an exhibition followed by […]
Amazing. The bitter honesty and truth causes one to look at themselves and the essence and aura of beauty in its raw form.
Nice blog, thank you! I really like it.
what lincoln clarkes ever did before ‘heroines’ i do not know. it was this book that shot him to fame, or perhaps infamy, in many of our eyes. i’m sure it made him a ton of coin, directly or indirectly. how much of that, if any, did you put back into the community? i’m afraid 5 bucks and bubblegum doesn’t cut it, especially for anyone who you inadvertently ‘outed’ out there in the wide world, outside of the relative safety and anonymity many folks find in the dtes.
Well it’s typical of people such as Laurel to take a shot at someone who was actively integrating with these people, to uplift, or at least document for posterity the deplorable state of the dtes. In my view, and in the view of many who have tracked this story for a long time, and among those who have written about it for the local media [such as myself], Lincoln became caught in a whirlwind of social rage as an easy target for those who could not vent it in other more constructive ways. It seems, Laurel, that is still going on. Many of those women would have died anonymously had he not taken the time to photograph them. Anonymity is overrated on the dtes, that’s for sure.
Lincoln made these women visible, in respectful and beautiful photographs. People forget how little attention was paid to the women in the downtown eastside, even as they were disappearing. His show at the Helen Pitts gallery, and subsequent publicity, helped force (in my opinion) the RCMP to take over the investigation of these disappearances and, in a single day, determine that Pickton was the one responsible. Did Lincoln’s photographs save lives? Probably.
Pretty good post. I just stumbled upon your blog and wanted to say that I have really enjoyed reading your blog posts. Any way I’ll be subscribing to your feed and I hope you post again soon.
This body of work may be compared to Diane Arbus and her black and white photographs of dwarfs and giants. (Then classified as deviants.) The marginal elements in society will always cause tongues to wag one way or another.
Most importantly these works cause people to think, review, evaluate and examine the clear image that hangs before them.
Let the critique of not just the image, but of the image within the community as a social construct, begin.
I thank the photographer for presenting us with such stark, brave images and herald the vision for its direct if somewhat severe and sobering effect upon the viewer.
This is an epic post, maybe I should add add this blog to my blogroll? 🙂
The work is very captivating, and brings forth a reality most want to only spectate from a distance. It brings minds to a level of raw humanity (well, for those who are capable).
I did wonder, as Laurel, if any contribution to the women were made. I myself would not give anything more than help toward a recovery process.
As far as exposure, these woman are not hidden from plain veiw. They have the freedom to put themselves at risk everyday, as they have the freedom to say “yes, you can take my picture and tell my story”. It was brave and generous as a contribution of themselves. Reality is Clark made the contribution to the community by doing the project and raising awareness. I think it granted the ladies a moment, a real opportunity to see themselves as well.
hello my name is latisha im 18
my mom is in your book and i was wondering if you could send me her picture her name is nadine norton she has long hair and shes holding a blanket and if you couls send me a copy of the book thank you …..
Hi there Lincoln,
Moving and very touching, Thank you so much for continuing this project. I am sure it will be encouraging to many others.
My mother Barbara Sutherland was apart of this project in one way, she passed away Aug 24, 2012. I had found some of her writings and she had mentioned your project and video. I watched the video but did not see her.
do you happen to have any photos on her?
I have to Thank you so much for documenting all of this, it shows those in a different light rather than just a drug addict.
I grew up in another country around and amoungst such women. As an adult I move in the same world with women bravely trying to hold everything together for their children and grandchildren. However far they have fallen, however much the world slaps them down; they are and were human beings, mothers, daughters, sisters, aunties, grandmas. Too often society objectifies and dehumanises and demonises these women after using them up and spitting them out. Thank you for portraying them with strength, dignity and as women with femininity and humanity.
[…] et le destin de ces femmes est aussi réelle que dramatique, et simplement humain. Lincoln Clarks raconte avoir commencé le projet après photographié l’une de ses amies se shoutant devant un pub […]
From an outsiders point of view, i have just finished looking at these “heart wrenching” photos, on a personal note i don’t
know what these up and coming ladies went through, and how they ended up in such “dire straits”. It’s i guess difficult
who is to blame, whether it would have been “society” or perhaps, marriage breakdowns, boyfriend problems, sexual, child abuse, abandoned at a young age. Judging by some of the photos and articles it seems as though most of them are now passed away, i would imagine each one had a “tale” to talk about but gee i guess at times we all need a little love and
understanding but these ladies must have had very little.
Even looking at each photo really brings me to tears. I’ll ask a questions is there hope for everyone? So sad.
I am really emotional about this pictures. It’s so sad to realise the most of those women are dead now. I hope one soul has been saved. Good work, Lincoln.
I lost myself in Lincoln’s “Heroines” and could’nt tear myself away. So many questions….and such a fine line between tipping into their drug fueled existence should life’s road take us that way. Congratulations Lincoln.
[…] essay to go along side Clarkes series: http://worldwidegreeneyes.com/heriones-essay/ Share this:TwitterFacebookGoogleLike this:Like […]
Does anyone know as to date if this “photographer” has made contributions back to this community out of his “heroines” collection? I found the article supporting his work was extremely wordy as if to purposely distract the reader from the basic principle. Has this collection of photos benifited the community in any way? I see this collection of photos in the same light as a car wreck, no one wants to see but can’t help but look. News does it all the time. Sensationalism with out a cause.
If this photographer now has fame and has worked with “famous” models why isn’t he using his connections with “influential” people to bring awareness and promote change in the Hastings street community. Instead of simply pocketing the $change he’s making. Making money off of a disease that his “models” suffer from is making him morally no better than the dealers or pimps who benift from these sick women. Where do ethnics and morals come into this situation, if at all? Myself having a former crack addicted mother I would be furious with this man for exploiting her during a weak moment and then putting her on display for the world to see. I know too well the pain that these women’s families go through on a day to day basis. And this “photographer” only serves to increase the pain the families would feel.
Having also visited Hastings street once 10 years ago has burned an ache in my heart and imigaes in my mind that I will never forget. People who haven’t seen this in person will never fully understand the reality and severity of it. It seems like something only in the made up in the movies until you walk amongst the people, hear the cries and smell the human decay that it then becomes a reality. This guy is selling human sorrow and pain for fame and that goes with it. Another one of my questions is how mentally stable and competent are these women when signing a contract with this guy? Would it stand valid in a court or would it be seen as someone taking advantage of someone with mental, emotional disabilities? This guy should be required by the justice system to give portions of his earnings to leaders of the community to delegate the monies to shelters and the like. I have walked by shelter and soup kitchens that have been lined up around the block so that there is proof that more funding is needed. Does anyone else agree with me?
@ Jinger Contrary to popular belief having an addiction or mental health issue should not immediately suggest one is incapable of understanding and consenting to a photo shoot of this nature. In fact it often makes them experts in deciding for themselves, in knowing when they’re being taken advantage of and of understanding the potential downfalls. As for the families and friends… I was a friend of Leah’s… this is the only picture I have to look at. I am very grateful I found it and I believe Leah would have appreciated the honesty of it and the awareness it might bring and I don’t for a second think she was taken advantage of. I feel a lot of different things when I look at Leah’s photo…sadness, pain, anger, gratitude, love, laughter and so much more.. all of which I am thankful for.