By Fernando Castro R.
Part
II: A Completely Foreign Country*
*Part I was published in Lteral´s Spring Issue 2012
After her adventurous African journey in 1970 Wendy
Watriss came back to New York to publish her stories and photographs. There she
met Frederick Baldwin by chance. She recalls, “We did some assignments together
in New York and we had a great time.” Shortly thereafter, Wendy
took off again for Europe to do several assignments as both a reporter and
photographer for Newsweek, The
Smithsonian, and The New York
Times. “Even though I had gotten
involved with Fred, I left for Vienna thinking
that I was not coming back. But Fred prevailed (she laughs gleefully) and a
year-and-half later I came back.”
Thus Wendy and Fred began a life as a couple built on shared interests
and common projects. Almost immediately they embarked on a project that they
called “Back Roads of America.” Wendy describes it this way, “It was a way to
get back to the grassroots experience of the United States. Both of us had been
socially involved in different ways: he in the Civil Rights Movement, and I, at
the level of world and national news. However, neither one of us had
necessarily gotten the sense of how people from small towns live the American,
or the U.S. experience and history. We decided that we would start in Texas.
Fred bought a dinky trailer. He liked to call it a camper but it was more like
a trailer —pulled by his hand-made Mercedes Cabriolet. Poor car! They only made
about 300 of them!” Wendy makes an effort to hold the laughter caused by that
jocund image that is obviously one of her fondest memories thus far. “Texas to
me was like a completely foreign country,” she adds.
Driving south through Arkansas and
Mississippi Fred and Wendy arrived in Texas in 1971. Wendy reminisces, “Along the way we stayed with migrant
workers, farmers, and many other people. I would write every night. Once when
we were heading towards Austin we passed through Anderson, Texas. It was three
o’clock and school was out. We saw two remarkable things. In this town of three
hundred people, there was a very large and imposing late 19th
century Victorian-style courthouse at the head of the one main street with
western-like architecture on both sides. The buildings were a bit run-down, but
the courthouse was in good condition and stood like a great sentinel. On the
street where we were driving, there were lines of black students coming out of
school. It looked like the old South. No question about it. So Fred and I said
to each other, ‘There is something about Texas history that is not being
told.’”
Later at a dinner party in Austin that Dave and former
Texas governor Anne Richards had given on their behalf, Wendy and Fred
confirmed their impression with the notable Texas historian Larry Goodwyn.
After doing more research at the University of Texas library they decided to
stay in the Lone Star State. Wendy explains why: “Texas cultural frontiers
parallel and reflect important cultural, ethnic, and demographic movements in U.S. history.” For a
while they chose Austin as their home base.
Fred taught at the Journalism School and Wendy at the
American Studies Program of the University of Texas. Wendy remembers that they
combined their classes in a hands-on project for students to reconstruct the
history of different communities. “By going out and talking to people and
politicians, we had identified two Austin neighborhoods that needed historic
designations. One was Clarksville,
one of the city’s oldest African-American neighborhoods; the other one, Hyde
Park, a predominantly white middle class neighborhood. We sent out our students
as teams of writer-reporters and photographers to document these neighborhoods
block by block, research their history, and select a subject that was socially
significant to be the focus of a written and photographic essay. These students
were juniors and seniors of the advanced program of the University of Texas who
were obliged to leave the classroom and make personal contact with strangers.
It was an experience that changed the lives of at least ten of them.”
After
teaching at UT, Fred and Wendy set off on a two-year research project about
Grimes County. “We stayed on a farm owned by an African-American family and we
lived in our trailer!” says Wendy amused. “That family was a very
unusual one because the father had created their wealth in the late
eighteen-hundreds while the older generation had worked as tenant farmers in
the big cotton farms along the Navasota-Brazos River.”
During that time Wendy and Fred also worked on a story about the black
rodeo in the southwest, but their main focus remained the communities of Grimes
County itself where there had been a history of
racial tension. Wendy
explains, “The county was part of the corn and cotton frontier of Texas first
settled by Anglo-American plantation owners from the old South that had brought
African-American slaves with them. After the Civil War, there was a lot of
racial conflict and violence in the county. African-Americans had gained
political power as post-Civil War Republicans. In the late 1890s, the Populist Party
became powerful, bringing white and black people together. A white Populist
sheriff who had African-American deputies was literally shot out of office by
white landowners. For the following seventy years, the county’s politics were
dominated by the White Man’s Union. This was true in many Texas counties and
throughout the South until the Voting Rights Act of the 1960’s.”
Knowing that their presence in the county was quite
conspicuous, Wendy and Fred took steps to preempt any unseemly confrontation. “In Grimes County, we were thoroughly checked out by law officers
and the Department of Public Safety because we were outsiders. We were pretty
bizarre. Luckily we had very good manners and Georgia license plates. We were
very careful. We introduced ourselves
to the presidents of the biggest banks, the county sheriff, the chief of
police, and two of the county commissioners. We did not know until later how
well we were going to be checked out. After two years
of talking to people throughout the county and taking pictures of many events,
we got to know everybody in the county. In fact, we were asked to do
their sesquicentennial memoir. We did it like the English staging of Dylan
Thomas’ Under Milk Wood. We asked students to read scripts of
personal histories of people in the county. Behind them, we projected pictures from family albums.
Besides the original settlement, the county’s history included Polish people,
German settlers, and Mexican-Americans.”
In 1976, Wendy and Fred showed the Grimes county work at the Menil’s
Rice Institute for the Arts. The exhibit had 400 pictures. Wendy describes it,
“The idea was to experience American history through the county. The show took
you visually from the outside —as if you were driving through—and little by
little it brought you to the inside: the black life, the white life, their
segregation, and some aspects of integration. In one room we had a projection
of the old pictures we had photographed of members of different communities.
The opening night was amazing because many people from Grimes county came —both
black and white. They hired about eight buses. Dominique de Menil, whom we did
not know very well at that time, was beside herself with joy. One of the best
things was when the African-American artist John Biggers brought hundreds of
black students to the exhibit. He told them: ‘We may not ever have the chance
to see this view of black and southern history again.’”
Wendy reflects, “A lot of what I know and understand about the United
States now came from having lived that experience and then gone to the German
Hill County —which was completely different. To do that second project we were
able to get a research grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities. We
should have stopped and done the Grimes book, but instead we went almost
immediately to the Hill country. We stayed there for a little over a year,
photographing and doing oral history. The Germans who settled there came as a
result of the 1848 upheavals in Europe; the nationalist movements in Germany, Hungary,
Poland… These immigrants came to the Central part of Texas when it was still
Comanche territory. Many were craftsmen from small towns. The Germans were
probably the only ones who could have settled that territory. Due to the harsh
conditions they probably lost about a third of their people. They thought they were buying agricultural land but
unscrupulous developers had sold them land with very thin topsoil. Nevertheless, they adapted. They learned from the
Mexicans how to raise sheep and goats. They lived on relatively small
homesteads seventy-five acres or less —compared to the larger plots in East
Texas, which were about five hundred acres. They built settlements and
limestone houses. But theirs was a completely different political culture. It
was what in the book we called “artisanal republicanism” with a small ‘r.’ If
you read Robert Caro’s book on Lyndon Johnson, the name of our book about this
work, “Coming to Terms,” comes from one of its chapters.”
“In Coming to Terms we
include a copy of a remarkable document about the conception of government of
these German settlers. If I remember correctly the statement was from 1857. It
spelled out what the relationship of civil society and government should be:
what government and what individual citizens should be responsible for.
Government has to be responsible for infra-structural developments like roads
and schools. This was completely antithetical to any southern-democratic
government. That there needed to be public schools was unheard-of in the South.
There was also an anti-slavery statement in there. You can take that document
today and say that it is what Barack Obama is talking about. During the Civil
War the German settlers refused to be conscripted. They tried to escape to
Mexico and they were massacred a couple of times. All of that history is
completely different from the rest of Texas history. I don’t know how it is
right now, but up to about ten years ago that county had one of the best
hospital systems in the state, the best public school systems, music clubs,
dance clubs, …because there was such a strong background of civic
interconnection between the individual and society. Until about 1950 it was
fairly homogenous. Even when we were there, there were families who just spoke
German —fractured and bad German, but German nevertheless.”
After their work on the German Hill country, Wendy and Fred headed to
the southern tip of Texas, adjacent to Mexico. Wendy starts off again,
“Although we did not do as much work there, the next area that we worked on was
a border county that was Spanish-Mexican first and now is a Mexican-American
county: Hidalgo. It became one of the major destinations for Mexican farm
workers coming into the U.S. around 1910. At the time the border was still
pretty open and ruthless land-developers thought they could make citrus farms
out of much of this county. So they sold these tracts of land to people from
the mid-west who had come down to farm. That is when the big Anglo-American
influx into south Texas came; particularly in Cameron, McAllen, Brownsville,
and Hidalgo counties —not so much Laredo, which was a little further northwest.
One of the big land salesmen was Lloyd Bentsen’s father, that’s were that money
came from. We stopped our work there around the time the big Central American
influx began. Still the colonias
were in pretty bad shape when we were there. It was the last five or six years
of La Raza, so Antonio Orendain was still a strong head of the farm workers union.
He and Chávez had split because of personal egos. But he was a very strong
leader of the farm workers of South of Texas, which may not even exist anymore.
La Raza politics were beginning to challenge the Anglo politics that had
dominated that area. A school by the name of Antioch College funded four or
five grassroots community colleges around the county. They had a progressive
curriculum that focused on history, literature, and social studies from a
community level as opposed to just national culture. We documented a lot of
that part of the Latino Hispanic heritage of Texas; although maybe not enough
to do a book just about it. But we actually had some exhibits in the eighties
and early nineties of this work. We showed the German and the Latino Southern
area work at the Philipps Collection in Washington in 1979.”
In the late seventies Wendy and Fred had to make a decision over
whether they should stay in Houston or go back to New York. Wendy recollects
their decision, “Our experience here with the Menils was very strong. I think
that if Dominique hadn’t been here, we might not have moved here. Houston
seemed like the most cosmopolitan, most open, and most interesting city in
Texas.” So they stayed in Houston and they got one of the houses in the Menil ‘hood. Fred was asked to come back to teach journalism
at the University of Texas and he later taught at the University of Houston.
Wendy continued to free-lance and did the story on Agent Orange over a
year-and-a-half period. “There were a lot of Vietnam veterans around Austin, so
I began doing the story there. Life
bought the story and enabled me to finish it. The story ran in Life and it won the World Press Award.”
The Agent Orange work is connected with the history of FotoFest. In
1979 Leica had begun to award the Oskar Barnack Prize and Wendy’s Agent Orange
work was its third recipient. She remembers, “When Fred and I went to Amsterdam
to receive the award, we were invited to Leica in Germany and several people
there persuaded us to go to Arles in the summer. We did and we had a fantastic
time. We brought the Texas work and the Agent Orange work. There was no
organized portfolio review, but there was a way of meeting a lot of people,
many of whom were in French, Belgian, and Scandinavian institutions. As a
result, we had a lot of our work published in European magazines. The Agent
Orange work was also published in the German magazine Stern. It was a very rich time. Back on the plane, Fred
and I were talking about Arles and he said, “Why don’t we try something like
that in the United States?” We had seen at Arles work that never got to States.
Our idea was to break down the hierarchy, the closed circle of the decisions,
and the curatorial power of the existing institutions of the United States, and
open up to the world. Just about that same time, Le Mois de la Photo started in Paris; so we went and met with Jean Luc
Monterosso. In Houston there was a German gallery at the Rice Village owned by
Petra Benteler: Benteler Gallery. A very fine gallery that showed showed
predominantly European photography. They had a fine show of Atget. She also
showed Hungarian photographer André Kertész, Henri Cartier-Bresson, and some
more modern ones too. We got together with Petra and we hatched FotoFest over
our breakfast table in 1983.” The first FotoFest was in 1986 and the HYPERLINK
"http://2012biennial.fotofest.org/"FotoFest 2012 Biennial will be the
Fourteenth International Biennial. Wendy and Fred’s profile as international
curators gained along twenty-five years of intense labor has tended to hide
their photographic work. That trend has been partially reversed with the recent
publication of their book Looking at the US 1957-1987 (2009). In the meantime, Texas for them is no
longer the “foreign country” that it once was.