ProgressivE-zine #Covid19 by progressivezine

iss ue

PPH

sp ec ia l

covid 19

Editorial Team Batsceba Hardy - chief editor Michael Kennedy Fabio Balestra Keef Charles

Cover Irina Escoffery

Back Cover Richard Keshen

Design Batsceba Hardy Massimo Giacci

Progressive Publishing House The photographs in this magazine are realized by capturing moments of daily life in public places without a lucrative purpose, and with exclusively cultural and artistic intent.

All articles and illustrations contained in the magazine are subjected to copyright. Any form of utilization beyond the narrow limits imposed by the law of copyright and without the express permission of the publisher is forbidden and will be prosecuted. This applies particularly to reproduction, microfilming or the storage and processing in electronic system. Enquiries or material for publication are welcome. We assume no responsibility for unsolicited materials. - Adult Content ÂŠ 2020

Index

Keef Charles, The mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death Bruno Lavi, Corona Department at Hadassah Medical Center in Jerusalem Shimi Cohen, This is the mask I wore Simon Gradwell, Willow Michael Kennedy, Two-Week in quarantine in South Korea Keef Charles, Confinement

And photos by Shimi Cohen, Never Edit, Khit Tayza Aung, Corinne Spector, Ilan Ben Yehuda, Fabio Balestra, Noorhadi Saleh, Delfim Correlo, Sayem Hasan, Debby Masamba, Pascal Colin, Binit Tanna, Juan LondoĂąo, Daniel Antunes, Batsceba Hardy, Michael Kennedy, Eko Yulianto from Stay Safe Challenge: https://urly.it/36h8s

The mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death Keef Charles

Keef Charles

I knew exactly where I was going, I thought I knew why I was going there. What I didn’t know was how my love was going to shape my thoughts. I’d written about a childhood memory, entitled THE GIRL IN THE WINDOW, which ended thus: Sentenced to early grave by some disease I couldn’t comprehend, she was just nine years old. It was sad but not maudlin. I needed shots to accompany an article stemming from these memories. -8th March 2020So I decided, on a blustery day, to drive into the wilds and visit a graveyard I’d always been intrigued by; nestled on the hillside, close to the shore of the lake. I’d driven past it many times. I’d even hiked past its low wall and cast iron railings but had no time to stop for photos. I don’t know what I wanted. It wasn’t just about the little girl in the window. Maybe it was simply an excuse to get out and think about an article. I needed to feel my camera, heavy in my hands. With COVID19 threatening even this island nation, street photography doesn’t feel as safe as it used to. I wasn’t looking to write about anything too heavy. We’ve all seen our share of suffering: casket too small of a cot death; funeral of father barely known; teenage bodies convulsed,

sons a witness of mother’s early death; torment of suicide, questions begging. It’s just that, when you rush your mum to hospital, you wonder. When people you care for are at risk of deadly disease, you wonder. When life is gnawing away at your time on this earth and there’s still so much more to do, you wonder. You wonder: how much those people mean to you; how long they’ll be around. If the last hug you gave them, was the last chance you had. How will you defy the world’s strange turning and even meet up with some in the first place? So it was that I visited the church grounds and after a quiet and respectful session, headed back to my car to warm up. Fingers thawed out, I decided to get some shots of the train stop, cross the tracks and focus on any memories that welled up from the lake. Good times, with my kids. Building dams across the rivulet; paddling; skimming stones on water’s surface… and such like. I felt ok; things were coming together. I chatted briefly with some picnickers and windsurfers into the bargain. But my mind drifted. I was no longer looking across the lake at the distant rolling hills, or subconsciously scouting pebbles for skimmers. My mind turned to events far away; far enough that there’s room for a channel, international border and more. But people so close!

Keef Charles

My mind switched to images seemingly surreal. Like some scene from a cheap movie perhaps, depicting a scene of workplaces closed; restaurants barely opening doors; shops risking contaminated custom; elderly deprived of carers, as the government introduces new laws; permits required to cross town; police enforcing roadblocks. A city quarantined. A fear for loved ones. -15th March 2020What’s more, things have changed radically, in just a week! This is unreal. Unprecedented. Queues, curfews, permits and rationing. Many of us have never experienced anything like it

before in our lives! Ordinarily, the time spent in a cemetery will be sobering. Right now, events unfolding as they are, it’s almost a refuge. A time to reflect on love, life and death. It’s somehow easier, because for the most part, these lives ended long ago. It’s the desperate uncertainty of today’s situation which haunts me! -NowThat was then and this is now. It’s affected us all, in one way or another; to a greater or lesser extent. It will continue to do so, for quite some time. We must deal with it, somehow; with the help of love, understanding and humour.

Keef Charles

Corona Department at Hadassah Medical Center in Jerusalem Bruno Lavi

Bruno Lavi

Deep silence, these are the first words that come to my mind immediately after entering the Corona Department at Hadassah Medical Center in Jerusalem. As if everything is in parts: patients and therapists, religious and seculars, women and men, Jews and Arabs, respired and non-respired… But after a few minutes of being there everything blends into a new dynamic dance with new and precise rules. Therapists are dressed in protective clothing according to international rules, all similar, the same clothes and colours. Only their eyes are seen through which they try to express, it's hard to understand if there is a smile, if there is a wordless message. But it is not enough. Recently, an idea began to be implemented — each therapist's photo will be attached to himself or herself, perhaps this will allow a sense of closeness. They are constantly in a hovering movement, do not give up contact with the patient, come close without fear, talk to them, ask professional but also personal questions and everything quietly resonates. The patients, most of them from Jerusalem, some standing and waiting, some lying down, others using oxygen, many praying, wishing and hoping for health, and more health and more health… Everyone is surprised, as if they do not understand what they are doing there, wonder when this “dream” will end, when will the miracle cure, or the long-awaited vaccine, arrive. All together, close to each other, communication is minimal.

Despite the human presence in every corner of the department, the loneliness envelops everyone, each one has closed himself off. Then I meet a couple of patients who both got Coronavirus. They are not alone, they are together. Smiling, laughing, talking about the wonderful care, the children and especially the conversations through the zoom with the grandchildren, conversations with no contact or ability to hug and kiss. They are optimistic, she can already go out of the hospital to a hotel, he is still symptomatic and so she stays with him, in love, for better or worse, always together. In another room, I meet a religious man whose attention is given to a Rabbi, a famous religious litigator. The Rabbi lies supported with oxygen, he has a sweet and warm look, in him neither anger nor frustration, speaking quietly, in Yiddish. In the corner of the room sits a young, religious man who puts on Tefillin with piety and deep concentration. To him we are not there, no one is there, only he and his God, his God whom he trusts to heal him and all the people of Israel. Then the Intensive Care Unit. Another story. Everyone is euthanized, respired. Here no one will remember what he was going through at this time. In spite of the medical equipment they are connected to, they have a deep, peaceful sleep. The brothers and sisters look after them like parents to their children. These were unique, sad-filled photography days, full of human beauty of therapists and patients so different but so similar in their character.

Bruno Lavi

This is the mask I wore Shimi Cohen

Shimi Cohen

a few words about Funeral during corona days “Grandma’s dead …“, that's what I heard from the other end of the phone in the early morning. My heart was filled with sadness but also a bit of joy, because “Dada” (Gracia) died of old age and not some bloody illness and was 99 years old. In these days of Corona, my parents have not seen me in over four weeks. Dad is not in a healthy way and I had the feeling that he didn't understand what the fuss was about and couldn't say goodbye to his mother. During the funeral, he didn't utter a word. My mom, the angel of the family looked at us from a distance, can't hug, can't kiss. “Up to 20 people,” that's what the Ministry of Health said, a small funeral is limited to just the immediate family, the people closest to us each and every one. And Canty, Grandma's devoted therapist, kept calling her “Mother” and the only one of us who managed to shed a tear and cry bitterly. Such a journey of silence for me in the cemetery, a bleak sky, and my world being pelted behind the lens. This is the mask I wore. I was amazed at what the Corona made us, we almost dispersed without saying hello, we lost all contact and warmth between the people. And now it hurts me, and even though I'm the most atheist in the world, not sitting in the “seven” custom, these are the moments when they mention the dead, the good things, the memories. And I have wonderful memories of you, grandma. Rest in peace, Grandma, this is the moment when you can embrace Grandpa, whom you love so much. Shimi, your admiring grandson. Taking photos straight from the camera. Kodak Professional Tri-X 400 Black and White Negative Film

Shimi Cohen

Willow Simon Gradwell

Simon Gradwell

Unfortunately we’ve found ourselves in the middle of a pandemic. And Governments and Doctors, the world over, are telling us to stay inside. In today’s society we don’t really have much experience of this. I’ve heard some of my friends say they’re bored and others say that this is all driving them crazy. Recently I’ve discovered the more I entertain myself inside, the less I miss going outside. My 2 year old cat Willow is an expert because she’s a house cat, and that’s all she knows. So I’ve found myself following Willow around the house to see how she does it. Try following Willow’s fine example, stay safe and stay indoors.

Two-Week Quarantine in South Korea Michael Kennedy

Michael Kennedy

How big can you make a cell feel? Try this: Stand with your back to the patio window and shoot yourself, reflected in the mirror that hangs above the wash basin in tiny bathroom. That’s as big as it gets. Turn around and you’ll see other buildings within this compound and further, in the distance, the hills. Looking is all you can do for now. This lockdown thing, this confinement feels like incarceration for many. For Michael Kennedy it was. Literally. Forced to play ‘Monopoly’ for the sake of his visa, he had to take risks. He did get a ‘Get Out Of Jail’ card, but not until his 14 days of quarantine were up. Bound by more than the chains on the door, his world shrank to the few items he had thrown into a hold-all, access to the outside world and loved ones severely limited. He still got some news from outside though. The death count from the virus in his native USA, rising inexorably, day by day.

To read of Michael’s story that accompanies these stark black and white shots, visit: https://urly.it/36h8t

Michael Kennedy

Confinement Keef Charles

Keef Charles

PASSENGERS ARE WARNED NOT TO PUT HEADS OUT OF WINDOWS So here we are: stuck inside, frustrated, going out of our heads. We can get through this. Think of all the times we’ve experienced confinement before. Not the same, granted. Not as protracted, I’m sure. Not as scary, perhaps. But we got through it, right? I’m not belittling the struggle. I’m doing what many of us do; taking strength from past experience. Having tasked myself with writing a light hearted article this time, I searched my memories for some examples of confinement I’d survived. Here are just 3: THE NAUGHTY STEP, a mild form of confinement, was being sent to sit alone at the bottom of the stairs. The idea being that, having been chastised for your misdemeanour, you calmed down, thought about what you’d done to be sent there in the first place and, presumably, to look shamefaced as you apologised for your misdeeds. In reality, at the age of 7, you probably sat there getting further wound up and indignant at how the world was mistreating you. But, heyho, previous trips to the socalled naughty step had taught you something. You stay there longer if you act defiant. You don’t get back into your mum’s good graces without seeming repentant. Do it! Get through it! THE SCHOOL DETENTION, the age old punishment. Kept back at the end of the day, unless you had some compelling reason not to get on that day’s bus. It was the musty, chalk dust filled room where you and others shuffled in to spend an hour in boring confinement. The surly teacher, assigned this assiduous task, muttered some well practiced sentence about our need to be there, threatened us with additional punishments if we didn’t get on with our homework quietly and then proceeded to mark his pupils’ books. So began our confinement. Much coughing, sneezing, tittering and stern looks over teacher’s glasses to follow. THE TRAIN COMPARTMENT is a mixed and varied form of confinement. Normally one of your own choosing. Your state of mind depends

largely upon the reason for your journey, not forgetting the impact of your accompanying passengers. Some contemplative, even morose. Others outgoing, friendly, even warm on occasion. I was travelling alone but for my Nikon. Feeling my way through the train, aware of eyes alighting on my camera, even before I pulled it up to my face. Some of the passengers were suspicious, almost resentful of the lens’ intrusion. People’s response often dictates how long you want to hang around. You want a mix of reactions and expressions but it’s nice to get some positive. However, some responses can be a little unexpected, as I found out in one compartment; crowded with a family on their day out. I’d already grabbed their attention through the window; taking shots whilst stood on the platform. Little did I know that MY attention was also going to be grabbed. I took a number of shots of them from the carriage corridor, before being ushered in to join them. I shot, chatted, shot some more. Then, ready to move on, I thought I’d just try to get something a little different: shots in the mirror. It was there I was joined by a face and a hand upon my shoulder. Oh, was that another hand I felt? The second was a bit further down. Nah, must be imagining things. Until, I felt it again, and a third time, more definite. Not just a stroke, or grab, a pinch. Is this Napoli, gender roles reversed? My bum had been pinched. Uffi. Yep, attention grabbed, shot taken, time to find a safer compartment, a smile on my face. Hey, we find ways to cope; we are humans after all. Perhaps the dolphins or whales might have done a better job of looking after the planet but we are human. As such, we adapt, we cope. When we break, we mend. It’ s in the genes, it’ s in our psyche. The seasons are still changing outside that window; feels like I’m missing out. But I’m pragmatic, philosophical. It means the world is still turning, it means that it will still be there for us when we get back out that door. The journeys put on hold, loved ones to visit. They’ll be made, you’ll see.

Keef Charles

Stay Safe Challenge

Shimi Cohen Never Edit

Stay Safe Challenge

Khit Tayza Aung Corinne Spector

Stay Safe Challenge

Ilan Ben Yehuda Fabio Balestra

Stay Safe Challenge

Noorhadi Saleh Delfim Correlo

Stay Safe Challenge

Sayem Hasan Debby Masamba

Pascal Colin

Stay Safe Challenge

Binit Tanna Juan LondoĂąo

Stay Safe Challenge

Daniel Antunes Batsceba Hardy

Stay Safe Challenge

Michael Kennedy

Eko Yulianto