‘Outside Influence,’ by Rupert Jenkins (University Press of Colorado)
Ah, to see ourselves as others see us.
Rupert Jenkins, curator of photography at the Denver Art Museum, spent eight years collecting photographs by artists who came from elsewhere to take interpretive pictures of the state, from 1945 to 1995. Many of those photographers, such as Robert Adams and Arnold Gassan, came to stay. These artists brought with them new techniques and visions with which to view Colorado.
Primary among them was Myron Wood, an army veteran who came West to recuperate from World War II injuries. He settled in Colorado Springs, where he became a freelance photographer. He traveled extensively through Colorado, often photographing rural schools, and with his wife, Nancy, published a book about the state. Wood met Adams, who moved to the Springs in 1962, and the two learned techniques from each other. They sometimes photographed the same building (such as a church near Simla).
“Outside Influence” tells the story of a dozen or more of these post-war photographers who viewed the state through interpretive lenses. Jenkins writes of the post-war renaissance in photography in Colorado and includes the black-and-white work of the photographers. This is a different look at the state, one that goes beyond the pretty pictures and nostalgia of so many photography books.
‘I Did Not Kill My Husband,’ by Linda Keir (Blackstone Publishing)
Cara Campbell is on her way to prison to begin serving a lifetime sentence for murdering her wealthy spouse. “I didn’t murder my husband,” she keeps saying. She’s an influencer who gives advice on how to marry rich men. Who in the world would believe her?
When the prison van detours, then is involved in a deadly crash on a lonely road, the driver and attendant killed, Cara sees her chance to escape. Itap unlikely she can hide out for long. Dressed in a bright orange prison jumpsuit, she knows nothing about survival. Sheriff Jordan Burke is after her, and he knows a heck of a lot more about hiding in the wilds than Cara. But luck is with her. As Jordan spots her in the middle of a roaring river and is about to arrest her, Cara slips and is carried downstream in the rushing water. After a night in the wilds, she encounters a couple of hikers who give her a ride. And so it goes.
Written by Denver author Linda Keir, “I Did Not Kill My Husband” is an on-the-lam book in which readers can’t help but root for Cara. She’s spoiled, self-centered and pampered, but she’s also a woman who was deeply in love with her husband. She not only wants desperately to avoid jail, but she’s also willing to sacrifice her freedom to find her husband’s killer. Told through chapters that alternate between Cara and Jordan’s point of view, the book is part adventure, part whodunit and altogether a good read.
‘Running With Lions,’ by Pius K. Kamau (Koehler Books)
Growing up in Kenya, Denver author Pius K. Kamau discovered early that racism controlled his life. White children attended school at age 6; Black boys had to wait until they were 8. “Black brains were not mature enough,” he writes. Blacks were not treated by white doctors in all-white hospitals but were sent to inferior facilities to be treated by men who were little more than witch doctors. Advanced education and vocal training were out of the question. Becoming a surgeon was an impossible goal.
Still, Kamau overcame the odds. Left alone in a city after his father returned to their tribal village, the boy worked low-paying jobs, such as cleaning hospital floors, while at the same time devouring books instead of food. He never stopped studying, never gave up, despite an accident that left him burned and maimed. Even as a qualified surgeon, he faced discrimination in Africa, allowed to practice only in Black hospitals.
Prejudice wasn’t confined to Africa. As a student visiting England, Pius discovered Brits supported the Hungarian Revolution but had no sympathy for the Mau Mau fight against white colonists. “They were stupid, ignorant mad men,” someone told Pius.
“Running With Lions” is more than a moving memoir of a boy who became a doctor against overwhelming odds. The book is a look at life in Africa in the 1950s and ’60s when being a Mau Mau, as Pius is, could mean a death sentence. His identity held him back with Blacks as well as whites, as men in authority gave opportunities to members of their own tribes. As a child, he shared his mother’s perilous life as she tended crops and crossed treacherous rivers. Kamau — a one-time guest commentary writer for The Denver Post — tells a powerful story. (Publication date: July 14)
