Observing and Reacting Photographs by Angelo Merendino

This photo is not in exhibit but I liked the photo

I enthusiastically walk into The Cleveland Print Room gallery for their new photography show; I instantly see a walker in the middle of the room. My first thought was, did someone leave this or does it belong to somebody? No, on both accounts. It is part of the show. The show, “Observing and Reacting” is eloquent and touching; photographer Angelo Merendino takes the viewer through his wife’s battle with cancer in a dramatic way – large black-and-white photographs show people gazing at a young woman in a walker. Their expressions alone says it all – why is a young woman on a walker?

For me, this show instantly transported me back when my mother was also battling cancer. The hair loss, the lethargy, countless radiology and chemo treatments was my life for 15 months. In a bold statement I will say, I hate cancer. It withers people down to bare bones and a life where they can barely function. They can’t eat because food tastes like crap. The look on their face – why is this happening to me; what did I do to deserve this? My answer is absolutely Nothing!

I see this beautifully in photographer, Merendino’s work. You see people walking along living their lives; suddenly, they see a woman on a walker; they’re taken aback. Who is this person? Why is she struggling so in this walker? I also love the work that Merendino doesn’t show his wife in full view, just a glimpse – the edge of the walker and people’s gasp says it all. You can’t help but think, life is so incredibly short. You take for granted those simple pleasures – walking down the street and feeling the bright sun on your face without the aid of a walker.

I can’t help but also feel the courage of Menendino’s wife, Jennifer, walk those streets with so many people gawking, not understanding what cancer feels like. I don’t know either but many times I had to cajole my mother in getting out of bed and go to the doctor. Had I known that she would only live 15 months, I would have told her, “Stay in bed, relax and do what you want.” And, forget about those damn radiation treatments.

I saw her get thinner and thinner day after day. She was embarrassed that I saw her in her most vulnerable state – her lithe body where she could barely get in the tub for a shower. “Get out she would say; I don’t want you to see me like this.” I’m sure she thought, “I’m the mother and I should be taking care of you, not the reverse.”

I feel the same when I see these dramatic, large prints of Jennifer walking around the streets of New York City. I don’t need your pity; I’m just trying to get through the day. The prints are so meticulously clear and concise that I feel that I’m walking right along with her. I wish I was – perhaps holding her arm so she can cross the street. She was so young – but you can’t tell with her hairless head. I admire her courage that she tried her best to live life to the fullest, pain and all.

The beginning of the show, there is a photo of Jennifer in her walker (the only one in full view) in a stripped sun dress, so frail. These words are so moving, “Today I am sad. I feel like the girl who has cancer. The girl who doesn’t want to get out of bed . . . . the girl who people stare at because of my bald head.”

At first, I didn’t understand why a bald woman so young stood with a walker until I read those sad words. I understand somewhat the struggle she faced every day. I am compassionate with anyone whose day begins with a cancer pill or being dropped off at a chemo treatment. My heart goes out to each and everyone one of them.

Please see this show, for the strength of a young woman battling cancer. For the love and compassion of a spouse wanting to keep her memory alive by photographing her everyday no matter how mundane.

The show is available until October 27, 2013
www.clevelandprintroom.com