In November 2010 I turned 40. It seemed a significant age, and for some months prior I had been thinking about how best to mark it. An image had formed in my mind: sitting on the top of the Bayon in the Angkor Wat complex near Siem Reap in Cambodia, in the cooling evening under the serene gaze of the many stone faces of the Khmer king Jayavarman VII. I have been there several times before. It’s a magical place. It seemed appropriate.
I would have gone alone, but was lucky enough to be met there by a number of friends.
Angkor Wat has changed since first I went there. I was glad to have had the benefit of seeing it ten years ago. Several trips, but none as magical as the first. I was quite content with the idea that this would be my last. Now too tourist trafficked.
And so there we were, on the Bayon on the evening of my 40th. My brother dragged me to this scene: a Cambodian, dressed as a guardian deity, taking a break from having photos taken with tourists. His helmet placed to one side, his shoulders slouched, his head down, the faces of the Khmer king beyond. I would tell Confy later that I felt the scene represented myself contemplating my first four decades, as I had intended to do, sitting there in that quiet setting pregnant with history. Thanks for this one, Keith.
The four of us were sat around as the sun set. There was a distinct droning in the distance. An American tourist came up to us, asked, what are you guys doing? Alex looks up, his eyes going from one of us to the next, and then back to the tourist. “We’re waiting for the noise to stop”.
I liked that.
Darkroom printed, toned in selenium, colours added by hand.
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