Winds Shadows

to Myanmar’s beauty and

to a more open, less paranoid political system.

Falise, too, faced many challenges in his tireless efforts to give the outside world a glimpse of “life behind the Bamboo Curtain,” as he puts it in the subtitle of his book. His subjects are mostly those whose lives have been shaped by the harsh realities of poverty, conflict and repression that for half a century or more have been the dominant forces in Myanmar society. As his title suggests, they live in the shadows—not as mere victims, but as dignified human beings struggling to find their way through the darkness.

Uda’s image of wind—to describe not only himself, but also the forces of change at work in Myanmar—evokes a less claustrophobic space. And indeed, his photographs, which are organized geographically rather than thematically, like Falise’s, also capture the beauty of Myanmar’s landscapes, which somehow helps the viewer to understand the stoic strength of those who must endure the often tragic circumstances of their lives.

Both wind and shadows are transient, and like them, the country depicted in these two books is likely to change immeasurably in the years to come as influences, both good and bad, flood in from the rest of the world. Perhaps these books, which are above all studies in resilience, give us the best guide we could hope for to decide what is worth preserving of the country as it now exists.