by heather on July 11, 2011
Russell Monk keeps a studio in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico and has been working on series of portraits of his neighbours. Each Monday we’ll bring you one of those pictures and the personality that goes with it.
© Russell Monk
Russell writes:
Dolores has a little stand that ten end of my street where she sells treats and snacks every evening.
During our ‘session” I had a bit of a local history lesson. We both live in the Colonia of Montes de Loretto. Dolores told me that her family were the first people to live here. There were no other houses. They bought their lot for about 160.00$ (Now they go for as much as 25,000$!). Nearly twenty years ago. Montes de Loretto was the man who owned all the land. He sold it to the Government and they then sold it off to the public.
Doloroes has a husband who is older than her and can’t work anymore. Her four kids all live in California. The last time she saw them was nine years ago when she snuck across the border with some fake credentials.
When I offered Dolores the usual model fee, she declined. And wouldn’t back down. “Usted queira hacer mi foto es suficiente para mi”. You wanted to make a photo of me and that’s enough for me.
Isn’t she lovely.
by heather on June 27, 2011
Russell Monk keeps a studio in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico and has been working on series of portraits of his neighbours. Each Monday we’ll bring you one of those pictures and the personality that goes with it.
© Russell Monk
Russell writes:
The truth is that I can’t remember his name. It is written somewhere. He works at the local slaughterhouse. I asked him to make sure he came to my house in the clothes he worked in – covered in blood. When he arrived at my door he had a bucket of blood in his hand.
“Just in case you needed more”, he said.
They didn’t in fact have any Pig’s heads at the slaughterhouse that day. There had been a run on them. So – I had to go and find my own somewhere else.
by heather on June 20, 2011
Russell Monk keeps a studio in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico and has been working on series of portraits of his neighbours. Each Monday we’ll bring you one of those pictures and the personality that goes with it.
© Russell Monk
Russell writes:
Nico and his infant son, Deelan, live next door. Nico drives a bus and often brings it home and parks it right outside. He often fires it up before 6am and let’s it run for a good twenty minutes with “Ranchero” music blaring. I asked him once why he couldn’t park his bus a little further up the street? He told me that he was worried the stereo would get stolen. Personally I couldn’t see the problem with that.
A couple of years ago Nico had to be airlifted to a hospital in a bigger town. He had been partying with some friends and fell off a wall. He punctured a lung and was given a 50/50 chance of living. Fortunately the glass turned out half full. We drove most of the family, crammed into a VW bug to the hospital, a couple of hours away.
He just got two new tattoos – one on each arm. “Deelan” and “Alexi” – his little son’s other name.
by heather on June 13, 2011
Russell Monk keeps a studio in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico and has been working on series of portraits of his neighbours. Each Monday we’ll bring you one of those pictures and the personality that goes with it.
Russell writes:
Isabelle (or Chavela as she is known) runs the crowded – enough sometimes to field more than one team – and chaotic house next door. She is married to Braulio, in a manner of speaking – but that’s another story.
She is for all intents and purposes illiterate and generally has worked washing dishes or cleaning houses all her life. She cleans my house once a week. She more or less comes with the territory. Sometimes she manages to actually leave a room looking more disastrous than when she has entered. It is a unique talent that I have pointed out to her. We laugh – mostly – and then she continues on with the litany of woes that crowd her life – nearly always to do with money – or her husband. Asking Isabelle a simple Como estas is sometimes ill advised.
But she has a good and generous heart and can swear like a truck driver – pinche this, chinga that, with a few Cabrons! thrown in for good measure. And it’s not uncommon to see her with a jumbo Corona in one hand and a fag in the other – and a throaty laugh cackling between the two.
by heather on June 6, 2011
Westside photographer Russell Monk keeps a home in Mexico and frequents it whenever he’s not shooting in Toronto (this month), Tibet and China (next month) or wherever else his camera takes him. While in San Miguel de Allende, he has steadily worked on a series of portraits of his neighbours. He is rationing them out, like so much Escamole, on Facebook but I figured you might want to see them here too.
Russell’s ability to capture the spirit of his subjects and the depth of the moment is a given. What I didn’t know was how well he could tell a story; little snippets hinting at complex familial relationships, overlaid with Catholic and traditional Mexican iconography. Each Lunes I hope to bring you another of my favourite of this evolving body of work.
First up: PAZ
From Russell:
Paz is fourteen. Thirteen when this photo was taken. She lives next door.
A couple of weeks ago a dozen roses arrived for her in a taxi. Her mother told me and laughed.
I saw Paz a few days later. “Lo pregunte – que los enviaron” (who sent them?). She giggled. Un Muchacho (some young dude).
