Macro Monday

How do we trust the structure when only a fragment is in focus? Su Leslie, 2018

The structure here is a titanium earring (a madly impractical, 1980s-excess sort of earring); incredibly strong because it is a) titanium and, b) triangular.

I know this because it’s my earring, but life is full of structures for which I have no “eye of God” perspective.

A society works because (and when) its citizens can trust the institutions and processes that form the structure of that society. Trust can only be maintained if those institutions and processes continue to perform, and do so with sufficient transparency that we are not left holding onto little but blind faith.

And when the structures start to seem wobbly or indistinct, it is our job as members of the society to stand together and do all we can to fix them.

Easier said than done, admittedly.

Wallflowers and set dressing: behind the scenes at the Wintergarden

View obscured. Plants in the tropical house at the Auckland Wintergarden, seen from the outside. Image: Su Leslie, 2016. Edited with Snapseed.

I seem to be developing an obsession with the Auckland Wintergardens. More particularly, with the interface between flora and architecture, interior and exterior, exhibition and concealment. A few weeks ago, I found myself pondering the display of exotic plants for human entertainment, or:

the human impulse to capture nature and to use our considerable intelligence and skill to maintain species of life in artificial environments made to simulate their own, in order that we may enjoy those species on our own terms. (Nature Confined)

Yesterday, driven from the pavilions by a busload of very noisy tourists, I found myself thinking about the plants pressed up against the building’s exterior windows. From inside, these are the wallflowers, the backdrop to carefully managed displays. They are the hardest-to-reach and the least likely to be stars of the show.

Anthurium leaves behind glass; tropical house at the Auckland Wintergardens. Image: Su Leslie, 2016. Edited with Snapseed.

The pavilions themselves are showing their age. Built almost 90 years ago, the Wintergardens are like a once-majestic theatre — still putting on a dazzling show for the visitors, but behind the scenes it’s all starting to look a bit faded.

’round the back. Behind the tropical house, Auckland Wintergarden. Image: Su Leslie, 2016. Edited with Snapseed.

I’ve always rather liked the theatrical metaphor for life, drawn from the sociology of Erving Goffman (1922-82). The language of theatre makes sense to me as a way of understanding everyday life (performance, audience, script, props, costumes — even the distinctions between front-of-house and back-stage).

And while we each enact personal performances, we do so within our society, where politics, culture and morality are themselves performed. In this social theatre, some people, groups and ideas are given starring roles. Others are marginalised; relegated to the chorus, to non-speaking parts, or even denied the stage altogether.

As both audience and players, it is our responsibility to understand the staged and constructed nature of social life, and not to forget those squeezed to the fringes — only visible if we really look.

This post was written for Sally D’s mobile photography challenge at Lens and Pens by Sally.