ARCH photographer brings project to Harvard, MA
Author: Sophia Schultz
Since Kathryn Costello joined ARCH, we have a photographer on the team. So, yes, we were documenting our project before, but with Kathy we now have professional images to go along with many of the stories we love to tell.
Recently, her photos, taken on two trips to Iraq, were exhibited at the beautiful former Harvard Public Library (1887), now a community arts collaborative, Fivesparks, in the town Harvard, Massachusetts. On November 1, Kathy held a presentation, as part of which she showed additional photos, video material, and offered a Q&A session following her talk. Around 50 local residents joined that evening, and I was curious about the audience’s questions. Kathy told me that her audience was specifically interested in the Kurds and their history, and the town of Alqosh with its Assyrian and Chaldean Catholic residents. They were surprised that Alqosh is a Christian town, and that the history of the region has such a strong interfaith character. The people of Nineveh have lived through times of stability and peace, with different ethnicities and religions living alongside each other, but they have also experienced persecution, displacement, massacres, and genocide. Since 2003, the Christian community of Iraq is estimated to have shrunk from 1.5 million to 250,000.[1]
This brings us to the name Kathy chose for her solo-exhibition: Beauty for Ashes. She explained to me that for her Prophet Isaiah’s words symbolize first and foremost the replacement of suffering with joy. And that she hopes that is what lies ahead for the people of Alqosh and the region.
He has sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.
Isaiah 61:2-3
Her two visits to Iraq were specifically on a mission for ARCH. The first time, she went as part of a group, and it was her first time in the Middle East, so she was slightly overwhelmed at times, taking photos “on-the-go”, often not sure if she will return to a place or if she will meet someone again. Impressions passed her quickly and she really had a strong urge to go back with more time to explore. As a trained portrait photographer, in her work it is very important to find the right light, the best angle, and to get to know the people she photographs. “Some of my best work comes about after I make a study of one place.” Little did she know at the time that her second trip would happen rather soon after, and this time, she went on her own, and spent a whole week in the town of Alqosh. While she was there she also embarked on a trip to Batnaya, a Christian town that was completely destroyed by ISIS.
Kathy recalls a conversation on a rooftop in Alqosh with Father Araam, his brother Arwen and their old friend Rayan, both of whom live abroad and were visiting for Easter. They looked out at the landscape to where the Peshmerga at some point in the recent past was battling ISIS fighters. The conversation turned to the extremely ancient and rich culture of the region, the artifacts and relics that have been destroyed. They lamented how this barely made the news, how Nôtre Dame was prevalently covered but some of the lost sites in Mosul are still only known to experts working in the field. The memory of standing on the rooftop is still vivid and feels very palpable. This was when Kathy realized why she values her trip so much and why she cannot put her camera down, wherever she goes. When people ask “are you documenting this?” she wants to be in the position of saying, yes, very much so. Here on the rooftop is where she realized that if the people of Alqosh who took her in and treated her with such kindness, feel like their story isn’t being heard, then she wants to help tell that story—the Christian story, the Jewish story, the Kurdish story, a story of hope. Right in the heart of Christianity in Iraq, she observed a powerful connection of the people to their ancestral homeland. This is a region where the people’s ancestors have their roots in a time before recorded history.
“Are you still in touch with anyone?,” I asked her. Facebook turns out to be a nice way to stay in the loop. She sent her congratulations to Sarmad and his wife on the birth of their first child. Sarmad had acted as her driver while she was there. She met his mother and wife one afternoon when the family invited her to their house for tea. Despite the language barrier she learned of a family separated by great distances now that two of Sarmad’s siblings live in the U.S. She also recalls one of her interviews with Andrew, now from Michigan, who was visiting his hometown. His profound joy was evident when he remembered how he was lighting candles with his father at the tomb of the Prophet Nahum, and he was thrilled to see the restoration work on the shrine. Members of the audience during the November presentation were surprised to see how close to collapse the shrine was before we intervened.
Kathy also loved meeting Basima, an artist from Alqosh. They were laughing so much when Basima told her that some people wonder about her house with all the decorations and murals. They become curious and often ask ‘is this a church?’ And sometimes, to play with them, she just says ‘yes, it is’. One of the video clips Kathy showed her audience was of Father Araam playing with a baby. He gives her a plastic water bottle and the baby drops it off her high chair and couldn’t be happier. The little one giggles and repeats the game over and over again. After the presentation someone came up to Kathy and remarked that this particular clip made the people more relatable to him, “babies are the same everywhere!”
Mayor Lara of Alqosh said something powerful that also speaks to the history of the people of Nineveh: “We have the same hope for the future that we had one hundred years ago. We’re reliving history, being dragged into other people’s conflicts. We as Iraqi people are living in a place that is just for war.”
During Kathy’s second trip it surprised her how completely comfortable she felt throughout her entire stay. The word about her being in the town spread quickly, too. One day she was walking down the street with Dan from Alqosh on their way to his dad’s tea shop, and a car stopped and the driver rolled down his window and waved. Dan asked Kathy “do you know him?” and she said no, and in that moment the driver yelled out of the car, “take good care of Kathy!” They all smiled at each other, and enjoyed a cup of (very strong) tea.
“This part of the world is often associated with war and tragedy. I want, through my photos and presentation, to tell a story of resilience and faith—a story of a people so genuine and welcoming despite what they have lived through.”