“I don’t want a walking stick”
Written by John Macpherson
Dave Forsyth in his favourite armchair © Ian Forsyth
I came across Ian Forsyth’s documentary series “I don’t want a walking stick” yesterday, on LensCulture. Link.
Ian describes the effects of Parkinson’s:
His condition is gradually and inevitably deteriorating. Along with the endless tablets consumed daily and the inherent side effects of some of those tablets the disease itself is making things increasingly difficult for both my parents. However if the medication isn’t taken at the right time then the swift onset of the violent tremors that are a major effect of the disease will quickly occur and the periods of lucidity are mixed with confused ramblings and difficulties in being able to carry out even basic activities.
This is a moving insight into the effects of living with Parkinson’s Disease. Not only are the images beautifully composed, but the structure of the piece, the order of presentation and use of subject placement within each frame, leads you elegantly through the work. But you really wont notice that, because these are images of Ian’s father, and the ‘connection’ afforded by this intimate relationship is woven through each frame, and draws you inexorably in.
You might assume that the access afforded by being so intimately connected with the subjects would enable a degree of ‘invisibility’ – that ‘fly-on-the-wall’ access that serious documentary photographers strive for. And in some of the images that is evident. But what is more striking is the connection between Ian and his father – the recognition in his dad’s eyes, but tempered by a hint of their mutual understanding that his condition is deteriorating. There is frustration mixed with fear, but wrapped in the familiarity with home.
Dave Forsyth © Ian Forsyth
Ian has managed to capture something very moving, moments of connection between a father and his son, and glimpses of a stubborn and proudly determined man fighting to retain his connection with his life, and his family.
This is an elegiac tribute from a son to his parents, and well worth taking a few minutes out of your day to contemplate.
Author — John Macpherson
John MacPherson was born and lives in the Scottish Highlands. He trained as a welder in the Glasgow shipyards, before completing an apprenticeship as a carpenter, and then qualified as a Social Worker in Disability Services. Along the way he has cooked on canal barges, trained as an Alpine Ski Leader & worked as an Instructor for Skiers with disabilities, been a canoe instructor, and tutor of night classes in carpentry, stained glass design and manufacture, and archery. He has travelled extensively on various continents, undertaking solo trips by bicycle, or motorcycle. He has had narrow escapes from an ambush by terrorists, been hit by lightning, caught in an erupting volcano, trapped in a mobile home by a tornado, kidnapped by a dog's hairdresser, rammed by a basking shark and was once bitten by a wild otter. He has combined all this with professional photography, which he has practised for over 35 years. He teaches photography and acts as a photography guide & tutor in the UK and abroad. His biggest challenge is keeping his 30 year old Land Rover 110 on the road. He loves telling and hearing stories.