Haiti was one of the first times I traveled in a “foreign” country. I had always wanted to go there. It was mysterious. It was exotic. It had more artists per capita than any other country. It had great music and fantastic drumming and “Voodoo.” I was going to experience it all.
Of course, I interacted very little with these things. I was swept along by the sheer energy of the place. Every day was filled with wonder and anxiety and a desperate attempt to catch the quality of life which at that time, though full of hardships, was much better than today.
I went twice. Once before Papa Doc Duvalier and one after him. The first time in 1957 and a second time in 1973. I have only one image in the series from 1957, and all the rest have yet to be found. It is the only shoot that I can’t find. Everything else is from the 1973 trip. If I ever find 1957, I’ll put it up.
