'Insecurity'
photos capture airport jitters
Travellers'
candid shots made to prove camera wasn't a bomb
By
David Stonehouse Isabelle
Devos thought the photographs would betray the grim new
reality
of air travel post-Sept. 11 -- the tense uncertainty among
passengers
aware that planes could become deadly weapons of terror and
that they
themselves were being eyed as potential perpetrators.
Indeed,
her favourite images among her slowly growing collection
of
airport security snapshots do show a glimpse of the new world
order -- a
wary, perhaps angry, security guard; an infant calm amidst
the chaos of
security checks; the belongings of her very own young children
under
scrutiny.

Cincinnati,
US (C.Provorse)
Isalbelle Devos, c. 2003 Insecurities Project
Ms.
Devos, a 36-year-old New Brunswick artist and photographer,
is
hunting for more of these photos, snapped by ordinary travellers
at the
insistence of security officers demanding proof that the
camera works
and wasn't a bomb in disguise.
She
plans to put the collection on display in galleries throughout
North
America. Already, galleries in Anchorage and New York City
are
interested.
She
calls it the Insecurity Project, reflecting both where
the pictures
were taken and the uneasy feeling of insecurity after the
terrorist
attacks. She was propelled into the project out of curiosity:
what kind
of photos would people take when ordered to do so, and given
only
seconds to consider it.
One
traveller in Charlottetown opted for a shot of a guard
demonstrating
how to spread one's arms for a security pat down.
From
the airport in Cincinnati, there is a tight portrait of
a woman
absorbed in an issue of TV Guide.
Someone
flying out of Halifax chose a distant, stark shot of a
security
X-ray machine. A traveller in Germany captured an interior
shot of an
entrance at the Munich airport.
"I
thought, somehow, I would get a lot more blurred, kind
of non-photos
-- you know, just people trying to get away and taking
a snap," Ms.
Devos says from her home in Sackville, a town of 5,000 people
where she
holds down a day job as a worker for the Red Cross.
"What
I was surprised to see is that the majority are of people.
I guess
people want to make it a photo that has some value, and for
most I think
that includes having a person in it. That is just the way
we are."
Perhaps
even more surprising is how most people are smiling instead
of
grim. Ms. Devos even has one photo of a grinning security
guard. She
surmises the smiles are an automatic instinct when the camera
comes out,
rather than a true reflection of mood.
Security
officers are something of a favourite target, which is
bemusing
given that the cameras are being treated as possible weapons
of terror.
Ms.
Devos relates the story of one astute officer who ordered
a rushed
traveller not to take his picture, but the passenger did
anyway -- an
act of spite out of annoyance at the demand to take a snap
at all.
Some
of the collection is on the Web at www.insecuritiesproject.com.
It
is through the Website, other Internet postings and newspaper
ads that
she has put out the call for submissions from travellers.

Montreal,
Canada (D. Creamer)
Isabelle Devos, c. 2003 Insecurities Project
She
hopes the collection will reveal "the cultural
and social patterns
within the images, giving a record of one seemingly insignificant
detail
in our ever-changing world."
So
far, she has received 31 photos -- fewer than she expected.
She hopes
to collect at least 50 before enlarging a selection for the
gallery
shows.
Part
of the problem, perhaps, is it is not standard procedure
in North
American airports for security guards to ask passengers to
shoot a frame
of film before being cleared for boarding.
And
now, much to Ms. Devos's chagrin, both Canadian and U.S.
authorities
are making it clear to airport security staff that such a
request is
overzealous and should not be made.
So
it is ironic that last summer while escorting her two children
through security, she was confronted with a request to prove
her camera
was working.
She
let out a snort of laughter, both taken aback and amused
at the
demand.
"I
was completely unprepared. I knew what was going on, but
I was so
busy with the children I hadn't checked my bag -- hadn't
thought what
was in there. I was helping them with their little Game Boys
and
Nintendos and things," she recalls.
"I
had only a split second and I thought 'Yup, take a picture
of the
action.' That's what I wanted."
She
hurried a shot of her children ahead of her at the X-ray
machine
conveyor belt.
Just
before she hit the shutter, her daughter Emma happened
to turn and
look back. Only the top of the girl's face is caught in the
frame -- her
eyes glaring back as if she caught her mother at something
she was not
supposed to be doing.
© 2004
David Stonehouse. For permissions to reprint, please e-mail info@davidstonehouse.com
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