This is a moving radio piece on hunger in America with a rather mundane title: Photographer Captures Stark Portraits Of Hunger. It played yesterday on NPR’s All Things Considered.
Of course it made me think about hunger. But it hit me because it was intimate. Radio can pierce. Voice stabs me in a way very few things do. Someone’s voice on the radio is intimate, like you’re either being held by them or holding them. Close.
Link straight to NPR Player if it doesn’t embed or your browser tanks.
And here’s the thing: I don’t think the photos add anything, especially not any further intimacy. At least not for me. This is not meant as a criticism of the photos or the artist but more a curious thought prompted in me by the experience of this piece.
I can see attending the exhibit, but the picture I have in my mind (doh) is of me sitting on the floor before the portraits with headphones on, eyes closed, enraptured in the cocoon of that person’s voice.