Читать книгу Reconstructions - Steafán Hanvey - Страница 16

Late Developer

When I was in America touring Look Behind You! and Nuclear Family, a lady approached me one night and asked if the photograph of the father holding the boy’s hand was me and my Da, and when I said it wasn’t, she – without missing a beat – replied: ‘Well honey, you’re in America now, so from now on, that’s you and your father!’

The man and child in the photograph are walking through the notorious Divis Flats complex in Belfast. In this instance, the poem was written first and the photograph curated as an accompaniment. I like the symmetry of the subjects’ stride, and how their intimacy contrasts with the implacable, modernist facade of the flats and the dark concrete walls. That splash made by the child also appeals to me, as no matter what’s going on around you in the adult world, puddles are still for splashing. I also like how the boy – like all kids holding a parent’s hand – seems to be lagging behind, scurrying, caught between the need to keep up and the need to do childish things.

The poem was inspired by nights spent watching my father work under the red light, particularly when we lived in Irish Street, Downpatrick, where I spent the first nine years of my life. I can still smell the strangely comforting yet pungent combination of cigarette smoke and chemicals. These days, he develops mostly in Lightroom, the photo-developing software. Darkroom during The Troubles, Lightroom in times of peace. Fitting.