FEET UNDER THE SEAT
Stories of Life on the Line, by Ali Hunter
People have always been my first love and when a rather unpleasant brush with burnout caused me to move from writing to photography a few years ago, it came as naturally to me as breathing, to aim my camera at human beings and their lives. I soon discovered, however, that privacy is taken quite seriously over here in Europe and I needed a more anonymous way to tell my stories.
The idea for this project began last year when I sold my car and began travelling by train. A lifelong hearing problem has gifted me the ability to observe people very closely and I soon found myself tuning into what was going on with my fellow passengers. Wondering how to photograph them anonymously led me to their feet, often storytellers in their own right.
I live in a place where people hike and bike in the summer and ski in winter and because the pistes and hotels have been closed to tourists this winter, I have been fortunate enough to travel with locals only. Tuning in instead of out, has led to my witnessing some incredible stories of everyday human life and very soon I will be publishing a collection of them. All images were shot on the Fujifilm X-Pro3 and the Fuji 35mm 1.4
Laughing at the speed bumps
I board the train and move through what I think is an empty carriage. I sit almost at the back and dig into my jeans for my ticket. The conductor, I know, won’t be far behind me. There are a few places at this point on the line where the train shakes us around a little, or a lot, and my ticket falls off my knee onto the floor. As I bend down to pick it up, I hear what I think is a laugh and at the same time I spot two feet pointing up and out showing me their soles. I look around for the conductor and see he’s still talking to the driver at the far end so I grab my camera and get to work. The train is still rocking around and at every bump, the feet lift off the floor and the person laughs. The laughter is contagious and I have to know who these feet belong to. I get a few shots and sit up, trying to peep through the gap in the seats to see who is there.
It’s a lady I recognise. She’s a waitress at a local restaurant and a little wave tells me she recognises me too. She begins talking – she’s a great talker – but I can’t hear properly so I move to the seat across the aisle from her. We chat and I ask how she’s doing with being out of work for so long. She laughs and tells me that this is the most meagre winter season in her thirty year career in hospitality, but for the first time she’s been able to ski when she likes, play in the snow with her grandkids while their mum goes to work and ride the train just for the hell of it. We hit another bump and again her feet lift off the floor and she laughs out loud. I laugh too and she explains this is a game she plays with her grandkids.
When life jolts you, she says, you can either roll with it, or tense up and resist. There’s a life lesson, right there.
Young Man - part one
Young man, I watch you get on the train and I respond to your polite greeting as you pass me and take your seat. For a time you and I are the only people in our carriage and I notice your neatness, how clean and new your shoes are, how tall you are, but how young you look. I notice your glasses and that you’re reading a book. We sit in comfortable silence, you and I. And then they get on. Those for whom your shoes are too white, your clothes are too nice and your hair is too neat. Your glasses and your book seal the deal for them and the taunting begins. Young man you are older and taller than them, but their number gives them a power they’d likely never know alone. Young man, I don’t want to step in, but I smell your fear and so do they so I have to. I am glad for you when you get off the train into the safety of a car waiting on the platform. I hope you will tell your parents, young man, and I hope they report it, because I most certainly will. I hope you’re ok and that my actions do not make things worse for you. Young man, this is not your fault. (Young Man part two addresses the aggressors and will appear in the book.)
If you’d like a copy of the 120-page book with 57 stories from Life on the Line, I’d be delighted to take your order. The book will go to print around the end of March. Price for an unsigned copy shipped from within the UK to the UK €22 plus €6 tracked delivery. Price for a signed and numbered copy shipped by me is €25 plus €15 tracked delivery to the UK and Europe and €25 to the USA.
Contact Ali at alihunterstoryteller@gmail.com
