Occupied for at least 50 000 years (and probably a great deal longer) by modern humans, PNG is home to some of the last extant tribes to suffer the dubious honour of contact with the world at large. My father told of meeting with peoples still unconvinced of the advantages of this largely unsolicited communion and determined to preserve traditions such as headhunting, cannibalism and apocalyptic intertribal warfare.
These are some of the slides that were the result of Dad's forays into photography. Time, suboptimal processing and his shitty camera rendered many of them virtually indecipherable until we decided to haul them out, inspect and restore the survivors. We're about halfway through the process now and will post more onsite as they become available. I wish he was here to see and discuss them but he succumbed to cancer a decade ago.
I'm incredibly grateful to be able to see the things he witnessed.
Though untrained and unencumbered by notions of political correctness, my father shared the intransigent suspicion of authority, appreciation of the absurd and fierce independence of the people he recorded. They reflect each other clearly through the lens.