Children of the Revolution

People give children things. Objects, food, even money- they walk up to you on the street, complete strangers, and present your child with these things- these offerings. Sometimes one gets the feeling they are offering the child this gift as much for their own benefit as that of the child.

A very old woman approached my daughter and me on the street beneath the subway tracks in Queens. My daughter was around one and half at the time, she was riding in her stroller. The old woman stepped in front of us and we stopped. She offered my daughter a dollar. The woman had to be around eighty years old, perhaps even older, and did not look as though she had a lot of money. I thanked her but begged her not to give my daughter her money. She insisted and pressed the bill into my daughter’s tiny hand.

I imagine the gesture was something like lighting a candle at a church.

My daughter was given a doll one day. I had not given her a doll yet. The doll she was given was not the type of doll I would have chosen for her. It looked too grown up. It was the image of a little girl but was painted so as to appear to be wearing make-up. The doll was on roller-skates and had day-glo hot pink and turquoise clothing with the word “California” printed across the back of its jacket. I did not approve- so I took a picture.

This picture led to this series of pictures. I subsequently collected many more dolls of all shapes, sizes and styles and photographed them all (and have since passed far to many of them on to my daughter to possibly be healthy). In the course of the work I very quickly lost sight of what I was originally looking for and began to remember, to recapture, a feeling that I last had in the very distant past. They were coming alive in front of my camera. It did not take long. No sooner would the doll be set up to photograph, a couple frames exposed, a light adjusted slightly and suddenly- alive.

I began these photographs looking through the eyes of a father- and ended up looking through the eyes of a child.

Jake Rowland
January 1, 2009
New York