Evan Kaufmann

Here are some tear sheets from a recent assignment I did in Germany. It's a pretty remarkable story and I had a great time working on it. You can read it here.

Angerville

Bringing firewood from the forest, outside of Angerville, France. 

Köln

Köln, Germany. Getting to know my family and myself.

Twas Now

"It is what it is."

Those words feel like last year's mantra. For far too long, I was willing to accept certain things as they were, simply because I was too scared to try and change them. 

As we transitioned into 2012, I made the resolution to take a sweeping and drastic step towards carrying out the work I have always wanted to do. Since then, I have been condensing my life into a backpack and choosing a direction. This is not a time of sadness for me, nor am I running away from anything. I am very excited to see where this new path will lead and I am leaving home with very pleasant memories. Those who know me well know that I have often struggled to get along with the big city environment, but I'm both overjoyed and grateful to now feel love for Toronto. I learned years ago that one's happiness comes not from where they are, but whom they share their surroundings with. Thanks to my wonderful friends, new and old, I now see Toronto as a home I can come back to. The only weight in my heart at this time comes from having to say goodbye to so many loving people and a community where I felt truly welcomed.

As much as I was enjoying myself at home, I knew that it was time to go. I am writing you this from Köln, Germany, the first leg of a journey that will last as long as it needs to. There are stories I need to tell and things I need to explore. This is something I have known ever since I first picked up a camera. Today, I'm happy to declare that I am finally ready to take this on. 

These are my final pictures from home before I left. They are like little scraps of paper that form a memory that I now cherish. It feels like every photograph I have made up until now has been practice.  Wish me luck.

11-12

I paused. The frigid winds of Christmas night slapped and stung my face as I looked down at the salty concrete below. My hands were wet and cold, clinging to the icy steel rungs of a roof access ladder, half way up the side of an old tire factory, my camera eagerly anticipating the view from the top. I said to myself, “This isn’t what normal people do.”

I couldn’t help but think about all the people I know that wouldn’t think it was unusual for me to be hanging off the side of a building in the middle of the night. I am so blessed to have all of those people in my life – for the adventures we’re had, the thoughts and feelings we’ve shared and the understanding and support we’ve built. Some of you I have known for a lifetime and others for only a few months, but I want all of you to know just how grateful I am to be alive in the same time and place as you are. Now is all you have and the people you share it with truly make it what it is.

Happy Holidays, Solstice and New Year, my friends. I love you all. 

Occupy Toronto G44 Exhibition

10 days ago, Alice Dixon, the Exhibition Coordinator at Gallery 44 Centre for Contemporary Photography, approached me to do a showing of my Occupy Toronto photos. Alice wanted the exhibition to be timely and told me that we'd have about eight days to get everything ready. Between photographing the imminent eviction of St. James Park, getting the photos prepped and sent to Alice, and other assignments and work, things were a bit busy. Nevertheless, everything got done and the show turned out great.

The exhibition features three 30" x 45" Giclée prints and three HD monitors running slideshows of photographs. The work will be on display through the month of December in the Gallery 44 Vitrines at 401 Richmond Street in Toronto.

I am really excited to be a part of a project that marries the timeliness of photojournalism with the aesthetic and presentation of contemporary photography. The show opened last night and the responses were overwhelmingly positive. Alice, Darren, Marvin and everyone else at Gallery44 did a fantastic job in helping it all come together.

Below are a few photos from last night's opening. Enjoy!

Occupy Toronto Eviction

I headed down to St. James Park at about 11pm on Tuesday night and spent the evening photographing what I figured would be the last hours of the occupation of St. James Park. Unfortunately, I was right. Toronto Police arrived the following day at about 6am and moved in at 7am. What followed was a day-long process of systematic evictions, property destruction and arrests. The entire process dismantling and disposing of the community lasted from sunrise to sunset. Although police and media contest that the eviction was peaceful, many people, including myself, saw as it as a violent assault upon the rights and emotions of the occupiers. The worst part was watching the police drag protesters into paddy wagons before they destroyed the sacred fire that had tended to by First Nations elders since the beginning of the occupation.

On a personal level, this process was very hard to watch. I'm not afraid to admit that I shed a few tears while my face was behind the camera. You can say what you want about the OWS movement, but I saw the occupation of St. James Park as a powerfully symbolic community. The dedicated individuals who gave their time and effort to make it possible are real heros. Their hard work created a lightning rod for passionate hope and change where everyone was welcome to contribute. It will be dearly missed.

Tents and signs may be crushed in trash compactors and buried in the ground, but their occupants and authors live on. Thoughts and ides cannot be censored or silenced between whispering lips and open ears. Words cannot be punched, kicked or stomped under military boot soles. A movement can never be evicted from a park, just as the growing outrage of a people will never go away on its own. The 99% are still the 99% and that fact will carry them into the future with strength and unity.