Review of Marc Nair s Spomenik By: Andrea Yew Marc Nair, Spomenik, Ethos Books, 2016, 72 pgs In his latest collection, Marc Nair brings together a stunning collection of photographs taken from his travels across the Balkans, paired with his characteristically reticent poems. Named after an enigmatic relic from the Balkan s socialist past, Spomenik embodies the intoxicating romance of travel, the allure of trying to make sense of the foreign. It tells of the art that is born in these quiet foreign spaces, carved out in a void of context and explanation. Like its namesake, Spomenik is perplexing on the reader s first encounter. However, it is necessarily so. Spomenik is cleverly selfreflexive. It is aware that without knowledge, our relationship to the world is akin to a viewer contemplating a photograph. It is a relationship between self and image, our understanding informed by the narratives we spin in its wake. As such, Spomenik works to reflect this unbridgeable gap through its creation of aesthetic distance. Nair s ekphrastic poems are the only explanation we have of his photographs. The mystery and ambiguity it creates is apt as it lures the reader in, capitalizing on our desire to know more. As Sontag puts it in On Photography, The sense of the unattainable that can be evoked by photographs feeds directly into the erotic feelings of those for whom desirability is enhanced by distance. (12) It is in this beautiful meeting of text and image that Nair wonderfully encapsulates the essence of travel. It manages to harness the magnetism of a photograph s reticence whilst tantalizing the reader with its elusive accompanying narrative. It captures our curiosity as we gaze upon a new city s architecture, devoid of the knowledge to make sense of it. It tells of our need to make sense, to supplement
that void with narratives and possibilities. Spomenik is the joy of a new crush. It is the shading in of the outline of a person, a city, with our own private narratives. Photography and text have always had a curious relationship in literature. Photography tends to supplant the void of what text alone cannot communicate and vice versa. In Spomenik, Nair s poetry does not just complement his photographs, but rather forms a dialogue in which new meaning is engendered. For instance, Inland (36) which tells of a bus journey across Montenegro is paired with a snapshot of a figure in a Scream mask, framed by headlights. Its message is frustratingly and tantalizing ambiguous. Aesthetic distance is layered upon narrative distance for one does not inform the other but yet paired together, it is the record of an experience, albeit a particularly reticent one as the reader struggles to discern the relationship between photograph and text. However, true to its name, therein lies the beauty and genius of Spomenik as it gives the reader a sense of what Nair might have felt too on his travels, trying to make sense of his physical surroundings, attempting to discern connections. In this sense Nair s clear, crisp language beautifully complements his evocative photos. Nair s characteristically pared down writing style is reminiscent of the Imagist movement. Here, it is particularly apt as it centers on capturing the traveller s experiences and observations whilst also being careful not to eclipse the reader s experience. A rarity in travel narratives, Spomenik is an invitation to a journey. As a book about the Balkans, Spomenik shies away from marveling at its jewel hued seas and its hypnotic gothic architecture. Instead, Spomenik is curious about the stories beneath the veneer. It wonders about those left reeling in the wake of Socialism as capitalism swept
through its towns. As Nair writes in his hauntingly surreal piece For Those Who Remain The ghosts never once speak their names, not even when they glimpse the rising sun (17) Again, Nair is also all too aware of the silent gulf that exists between the subject and poet, separated by the distance of time, barriers of language, the impenetrable glass walls of circumstance. As Nair acknowledges, I cannot make out what they are saying, echoing the particularly apt preface to Spomenik. You won t catch the shadows of life Flowing like the Danube Life is light and darkness One s morning is another s evening (6) However, there need not be void in the silence. Meteors which tells of a meteor shower across Sarajevo, is paired with a photograph of two young boys sitting at the foot of a statue, the angle of the photo makes them look untouchable. It is accompanied by the lines Streaming through the city limits, they keep the faith past the burning edge of retinas and revolutions. At certain hours, their heels brush Whispering stars, wishing above Broken sky for peace on earth (35) Taken alone, it is hard to read photo or text beyond their surface meaning without a history or a context, much like the spomenik Nair
chances across in Mitrovica in Kosovo. However, paired together, it suggests hope. It sings of the defiance and resilience of youth. Once again, photo and poem engender new meaning, giving voice to each other, casting and recasting. It is in the silent spaces between text and photograph that art is born. And perhaps, that is one of Spomenik s captivating messages. It does not aim to depict a history of the Balkans, neither does it presume itself to be on a moral mission to give voice to those that have been swept away by the tide of time, eclipsed by barriers of language or circumstance. Instead, Spomenik recalls Sontag s argument that A photograph especially those of people, of distant landscapes and faraway cities, of the vanished past are incitements to reverie. (12) Akin to Nabokov s Lolita, Spomenik does not claim to capture reality. Rather, it aestheizes our experiences with our surroundings. It is a charting of Nair s musings, a populating of abandoned buildings with echoes of the past. Introspective and understatedly beautiful, Spomenik is an embodiment of the spirit of travel and a timely reminder in this day and age of why we travel. Like its namesake, Spomenik is an escape and a refuge from the familiar, it stands alone in a league of its own.s
Works Cited Nair, Marc. Spomenik. Singapore: Ethos, 2016. Print. Sontag, Susan. On Photography. New York: Rosetta, (1973):12. Print.