Thursday, November 30, 0002
Kipp had perfected the art of storytelling. She would silently place one of her photos from post-war Germany on the table, let me take in the image, then regal me with the story of the photograph. Her life was exciting and riddled with fantastic moments - simply because they were often stories of a time and a place I (and my generation) have never experienced. These weren't tales of heroism nor the breath-taking adventures of soldiers. They were stories of her trying to find film for her cameras (her quick, one-off photo of the Empire State Building lead to surprise in Germany - since they had heard New York City had been bombed out), of seeing magnificent buildings half collapsed in rubble (a terrifyingly surreal photo of the bombed out balcony of Reichkanzlei), to her plucky responses to being confronted by Russian soldiers, and the every day stories of ordinary people just trying to go on with life. It was more than her personal past being brought to life again, it was hearing and listening to a part of history than can not be told in a book but only experienced in what those who were there can tell us. These snippets of post-war life in Germany and beyond were captivating and haunted my imagination for months onwards - who were those people? what had happened to them? Her stories served not only as my inspiration for my MFA proposal to Edinburgh College of Art, but their themes resonate currently in my artwork for my Master's. That the past reconnecting with the present was, I think, what we both enjoyed in our chats together. That while I was experiencing Europe for the first time, my photos and stories helped her reconnect to the memories and photos of her experiences. I will miss her and our exchange of stories. Her mind was sharp, her wit clever, her memories unparalleled and in that, I could not help but be both amazed and humbled by Kipp.
