the elements in-between

i've been watching a lot of lie to me.

and i'm surprised.

usually i'm not into crime scene investigation series, or any series involving the FBI, red-haired-man-with-sunglasses one-liners or any kind of jurisdiction.

but seeing the lead role played by tim roth- a.k.a pumpkin from the diner shoot-out scene in pulp fiction- gives this series just that little bit more acting credibility, for me.

and i enjoy the frequent inclusion of famous lying faces.

i've actually never been more interested in micro-expressions and lying before, something that i'm now more aware of, and hoping to make second nature in my subconscious experience of expressions.

scratching your ear?

you're lying.

mouth shrug?

yes, lying.

and quite unexpectedly, this facial movement exposure has now also contributed to my own analytical appreciation of photographs.

like the ones i went to see at the pretoria art museum last week, current host of the "south african photography: 1950-2010" exhibition.

a collection of pre and post struggle pictures from the south african political past, everything from ANC rallies, sophiatown shutdown and even sartorialist- style, black-and-white street snaps of township ladies in skirts and 1950s cat-eye shades.

and some others that i recognized, from years of post-apartheid high school history lessons, and a year as a history researcher.

including the world renowned sam nzima shot of mbuyiswa makhubu carrying a bullet-hit and bleeding hector pieterson to some kind of help after the june 1976 soweto uprising police shootout, with his sister antoinette sithole holding her hands hands up next to him, in a gesture that i saw as "pushing away" or defiance.

and even though i'd seen this photo many times, in textbooks, online, and in blown-up poster size, i'd never seen the other two nzima photographs before, from the same day, the same time.

the photos next to the iconic one, juxtaposed on gallery poster board.

the one where antoinette is throwing her head back and screaming, with other people running behind them, looking desperate, shocked and fearful.

or the one where makhubu is trying to get pieterson into the back of a car, the place where the photo caption says he took his last breath.

i'd never had this kind of wider-angle perspective on this incident before, being previously and unfortunately numbed by over-exposure and desensitization to a past i didn't exist in, and only saw from a mediated perspective.

but this time i bit down on my finger as i looked at the three photographs in succession, denying the warm emotional swell behind my eyelids.

and when i looked at the iconic nzime shot again, i realized something.

i'd always interpreted makhubu's facial expression, taught, with mouth stretched sideways to a grimace, as blind determination.

but when i looked closer at his eyes, i realized that it isn't only determination that shows on his face at all.

it's despair.