PHOTOS COURTESY OF UCLA FOWLER MUSEUM OF CULTURAL HISTORY
Darryl Sivad’s pictures try to capture the relationship
between the old generation and the new. Shown here is 3-year-old
Nitjasin Zakariya Quach Phyakul with a portrait of
his maternal great-grandparents. Sivad’s exhibit,
“Twice-Taken Pictures,” is on display at UCLA’s
Fowler Museum.
By Brent Hopkins
Daily Bruin Senior Staff
After months of dominating the walls of the Fowler Museum,
Muhammad Ali is now taking a bit smaller role.
In photographer Darryl Sivad’s “Twice-Taken
Pictures” exhibit, now currently running at the Fowler, the
famous boxer shows up again, but in a vastly different setting.
Instead of bursting from prints, larger than life, snarling out
his glory to the world, he appears small, almost overshadowed by
his own daughter. As Maryum Ali stands amid a row of palm trees,
beaming brightly, the champ waves a finger from a Newsweek cover in
her hands. His awesome fame is almost an afterthought when compared
with her radiant smile.
Sivad’s concept is an interesting one. With a series of 31
photographs, he arranges a variety of subjects before his lens,
posed holding a photograph of a relative.
Some, like Ali and author Quincy Troupe, were already known far
before Sivad arranged them in front of his camera. The true
interest of the exhibit does not lie here, however. While it is
interesting to see familiar faces, the real power of
“Twice-Taken” is in the stories it tells of the
unknowns.
Some aren’t readily obvious, but require in-depth reading
of the captions.
Benjamin Franklin Thomas holds his mother’s portrait while
resting in his garage. While the shot is interesting, a man
relaxing in front of his cars, it’s not as hard-hitting until
the caption reveals that his mother was a slave and that Thomas
built the house with his own hands.
It’s a poignant tale ““ a man laboring to build a
refuge after a lifetime of hard work, egged on by the presence of
his mother, who’s no stranger to perseverance, either.
 PHOTOS COURTESY OF UCLA FOWLER MUSEUM OF CULTURAL HISTORY
Ameer Arnett Brown, Jr. and Paul Anthony
Brown pose with a photograph of their grandmother,
Helen Elizabeth Ramey Brown. The shot of Salvador
Sandoval and its accompanying test are arresting. The reformed
pachuco turned teacher shoots out of the darkness, revealed by a
bright swath of light. He holds a photo taken soon after his
family’s emigration from Mexico, which portrays them as
well-dressed and formal. Apparently, this is all a carefully
constructed illusion.
“We were so poor, we had to borrow the clothes and shoes
we were wearing in this picture,” he says in the caption.
The captions prove to be a double-edged sword for Sivad. While
some enhance the quality of the art, explaining otherwise unclear
subjects, most are of little help. The ham-fisted writing that
pervades many of the captions detracts from the pictures, making
them seem like a junior high art project.
In another photo, Suliman Muhammad stands in a hallway, holding
his young daughter, surrounded by row after row of framed
photographs. It’s an arresting image, but its caption fails
to do it justice.
“It helps to have these photos displayed in the
hallway,” it reads. “They date from the early 1930s to
the present and help him thread together a story of their lives.
This enables him to see where they came from and more vividly know
who they are.”
This is all well and good, but it really doesn’t do the
photo justice. The caption seems to be merely filling space, rather
than actually helping convey meaning.
Some images, however, are so visually commanding that they
don’t need the captions.
The striking eyes of Yuki Mizukane Haq don’t need an
introduction ““ her relentless stare into the camera is
gripping enough to stand on its own. The contrast of her jet black
hair with her white cotton shirt makes for an interesting
photograph, one of the most eye-grabbing in the series.
The same runs true for Eugene Crosby, who poses above a
wrinkled, weathered thumbnail portrait of his mother. The cracked
lines of the photo mirror the wearied contours of his face, with
the white flecks of his hair echoing the creases of the picture.
Even given the upbeat nature of the picture, Nellie Crosby’s
proud beauty isn’t diminished in the least.
Though Sivad’s work is not going to turn the art world on
its ear, he has put together an interesting compendium. If the
written accompaniment approached the emotion shown in
Crosby’s face, however, “Twice-Taken Pictures”
would be quite an accomplishment.
“Twice-Taken Pictures” is currently on display at
the Fowler Museum, open Wednesday through Sunday, noon to 5 p.m.
Thursday from noon to 8 p.m. Admission is $1 for UCLA students with
ID. For more information, call (310) 825-4361.