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| Exploding car in the street ©Cat Ashbee |
Indescribable were the
sensations of being caught in the erratic flow of the Vancouver riot. It was like a tight flock of
sandpipers, changing direction in a tight flurry of close uniformity, minus the
grace and innocence, and surrounded by showers of broken glass, thick black
smoke and the sounds of a thousand roars and alarms. Lose your footing and you are trampled. They say a mob takes on a mind of it’s
own. What I saw was a sick twisted
mentality, and it showed me the very worst in human behavior. I was lucky enough to witness this
insanity, in the company of my camera.
Judge me if you will, call me
part of the problem for showing up, because without convergence there would be
no mob. But without participation,
there would be no riot. My role as
observer and photographer might be frowned upon by some, but being in the heart
of the beast and seeing the things I saw, were worth all the ridicule I may
get.
It’s easy to lose oneself
when looking through the lens, but the key to survival is having both eyes open
and being on constant high alert.
Like a paranoid ninja chimpanzee on cocaine, I can thank years of mosh
pit photo experience for honing that weird niche of a skill. Although I am certain that I was on the
good side of luck and chance that night to have escaped unscathed.
The hockey game was ending
and I was sitting at home in South Vancouver when I heard those words on the
television that sparked this desire inside me. There is a police car flipped over and on fire downtown. My photographer’s bucket list consists
of few things: Lightning, projectile vomit and burning cars. So against all sane judgement, I
grabbed my camera and hopped the train into the eye of the storm. I was not prepared for the things I
saw, heard and experienced that night.
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| Smoke filled streets ©Cat Ashbee |
Car alarms, building alarms,
fire alarms, shattering glass, explosions, fire, smoke, chanting, yelling,
random objects flying through the air and even a couple of people beating hand
drums to set a dark rhythm to the riot.
It was sensory overload all for senseless violence.
There were many times that
night where I stood and watched things unfold without taking photos. It was too appalling to look away for
me and I stood paralyzed as newspaper boxes were repeatedly thrown into the windows
of a fast food restaurant as the staff stood behind the counter with petrified
expressions. Fear, confusion and
piles of shattered plate glass.(Were you going to loot the deep fryer?) People
were taking anything they could get their hands on. Mannequins included.
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| Unreal behavior ©Cat Ashbee |
It was human nature like I
had never seen it before. While
most of the mob was a mindless eruption, there were the misguided voices of
protestors. Their screams of reason
fell on deafened ears. As
effective as yelling at a river to stop flowing. Resisting
was like adding fuel to the fire for some of these participants.
The air was thick with
adrenaline and toxic smoke. I
could only handle so much before I had to seek air and serenity. Seeing a man
stabbed and bleeding in front of the art gallery reminded me of the severity of
the situation. To higher ground, I
went. Away from the smouldering
dumpsters, unpredictable unstable people and out of the flowing rivers of
garbage and piss.
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| Riot police ©Cat Ashbee |
As I
watched from a distance the converging walls of riot police containing and
diffusing the chaos, I thought about the build up to all this. Flashing back memories of earlier that
day seeing every liquor store with line ups out the door and the blocked off
streets full of ‘fans’ in hockey jerseys. Oh right, this was all about hockey…. The Canucks lost the
Stanley cup final in their home city.
I can honestly say that there
were times during that night that I had experienced feelings I have never felt
before. Something I could only
describe as true fear consumed me at one point. With one arm wrapped around my camera and the other
shielding my head, I ran in a shoulder to shoulder tight mob away from a danger
unknown to me. A rain of glass
fell on us and all the sounds became a blurry roar. My mind created a numbness of senses at this point.
It’s something I hope to
never go through again. But you
can guarantee that I am not one to pass up an experience like this in the
future. My only regrets are the things
I have not done. Human beings at
their worst or at their best are the fodder that nourishes my passion to keep
shooting.
Keep up the chaos, humanity. I’ll still call you in the morning.
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| Extinguished. The streets were full of the charred aftermaths ©Cat Ashbee |
