Portrait Photography:
​Relationships Created on Both Sides of the Lens
​by Sharon Eva Grainger
A good portrait photographer looks deeply into their own humanity when they look into the eyes of the person they wish to photograph.  I pause, catch my breath; I stop moving and allow a connection to be made. I open up and let that person see me. That moment creates a relationship between me and my subject. This relationship catalyzes into poignant and intimate portraits, as in “In the Hands of Our Elders."

The first time I met Auntie Ethel she was warm, polite, and curious about me.  I recognized that question on her face: “Who is this Polish girl?”  We were sitting in her kitchen in Alert Bay. Of course, the subject of cooking came up: canning fish, smoking fish, fish camps and dzawadi (grease camps).  She went to her cupboard and pulled out a jar of canned salmon and crackers and my mouth watered.  I was delighted to find myself sharing an afternoon snack with this well-known elder. 

Auntie Ethel Alfred (left) and Andrea Sanborn, Director of U'Mista Cultural Centre

Ethel Alfred was known as a strong and very active cultural advisor in Alert Bay.  She lived to be 95, sharing her extensive knowledge of Kwakwaka’wakw culture and her first language, Kwak’wala. 

​I loved hearing her speak Kwak’wala. Younger members of the village would seek advice and knowledge for which their Auntie Ethel would be their main resource. She smiled, sharing whatever knowledge they had come in search of, and moved forward through her life.

Auntie Ethel Alfred was born in her father’s Big House in Mimkwamlis (Village Island) in 1910.  She married Alvin Alfred through an arranged marriage at age 16 and they were married for 68 years. They were married in the Big House first and then had a Christian wedding the next day.  She had 9 children, 5 boys and 4 girls. At the time of her passing in 2005, Auntie Ethel had 27 grandchildren, 68 great-grandchildren, and 37 great-great grandchildren.

Village Island

​Auntie Ethel spoke at length about her happy childhood with her family on Mimkwamlis. There is quite a story about her father Chief Harry Hanuse and his entry into the Potlatch Society, told by Lucy Brown, Harry’s Auntie (nee Hanuse). “Harry became chief at the age of eleven or twelve years of age. He gave his first speech to a huge potlatch assembly at Salmon River.  Evidently all the chiefs present were amazed at his ability to conduct himself in potlatch business.  In essence he had saved his ‘na’mima from disappearing.” ‘Na’mima means one kind. They are the primary and most important social units in Kwakwaka’wakw culture.  This part of Auntie Ethel’s background explained to me her role as an important cultural advisor to the Alert Bay community.  Over the years I spent visiting Auntie Ethel, I heard many stories, shared recipes for canning fish and gradually found myself being not just welcomed into her home, but affectionately teased and cared for.  

One of my favorite memories was sitting in her living room when one of her many great-grandchildren arrived after school. As was custom, the young girl gradually walked around the room shaking hands with the other aunties there and kissing them on the cheek. When she came to me and Pamela, she did the same with a small hesitation. We all laughed. She looked up with a shy smile and laughed with everyone. Within these small moments, when warmth is expressed, an image can be found and a portrait made. It is not just a formal portrait of a well-known community elder, but the portrait of someone sharing their warmth with the image maker who has, in turn, shared something of herself.
 
Sharon Eva Grainger