This afternoon I was perusing a National Geographic set of images entitled “Wide World of Color,” and I came across this beautiful photograph by Joshi Daniel of a rose peddler in Mumbai. What is striking about the image is the contrast between the vivid color of the rose and the essential monochrome of the rest of the image as well as the contrast between the fragile youthful beauty of the rose and the gnarled hands of the peddler – and I will add that the hands too possess a natural beauty.
How is one to feel on viewing this image? There are the contrasts that I have mentioned. And then there is the beautiful simplicity of the image and the simple life that it portrays. But it is also reminiscent of John Thompson’s “Street Life in (nineteenth century) London” and in particular the image of the “Flower Girls in Front of Convent Garden, 1877.” We have spoken of Thompson’s work before. The lives of the unseen bear little resemblance to that of George Bernard Shaw’s fictionalized “Eliza Doolittle.” It is from this ambiguity that the power of the image of the Mumbai Flower Peddler emerges.
Yes, this image & the photography behind it it’s beautiful and it arouses many ideas. More so, I’d say, from a visceral POV it arouses reactions and feelings that are universal yet so different for each person. The many contrast-elements make the image captivating. I’ve always been drawn to the expressivity of the hands..used to love drawing hands and feet.
Do we know for sure that he was a rose peddler or a field worker who tried to pluck the outer wilted petals of the rose for another reason? A good image provokes and leaves one to wonder.. Thank you
The person is a She possibly from central or southern India and belongs to a tribal caste (probably lower caste because this is how they declared themselves) based on her tattoos. Unfortunately the photographer missed the most important part – to clearly decipher the tattoo for that would have revealed a whole new world for the viewers. For now all you say is this – she is a worker in the field (her fingernails have mud in them) but is perhaps selling the flowers in her basket. And I have myself noticed that when they sell you, they pluck the outer petals which are wane and dying right in your presence. They do not have time to do that beforehand because they wake up early to get fresh flowers from the farm which are usually in the outside city limits, then take local trains packed with people to come down to market and grab whatever street corners or booths exists to sell their wares. One person to manage all the tasks – conservative capitalism. Usually a big chunk of the money goes to the farm owner.