Kris Kerehona
Army, Photographer
“I remember sitting in a rowboat in a river. Dad was rowing and I sat between his legs. I could only have been about two years old. As Dad rowed, I watched his wiry arms straining at the oars. My eyes were riveted on a light patch visible on his left arm. It was a band-aid. My earliest memory contains my father’s protective arms around me and the sharp definition of light against dark.”
Both light and dark would always remain an imperative part of Kris’s life.
Although born in New Zealand, Kris grew up in the Blue Mountains in NSW. By day he ran free with his friends in the bush, building rock walls and forts and playing war games. He wanted to be just like his dad, who had fought in the Vietnam War. In the pristine environment of his childhood, Kris would be drawn to exploring the texture, colour, light and shade of the trees and plants in the mountains. He saw their beauty with the purity of a child’s eye.
His dad told stories of Vietnam where he had been posted to Nui Dat with the 161 Field Battery, Royal New Zealand Artillery.
“His stories included respect for a formidable enemy who fought with primitive weapons against the most powerful group of allies in the world.”
Sadly, Kris’s father was most likely infected with Agent Orange, telling his son, “The shit was sprayed all over us”. He was sick for 20 years and was later diagnosed with leukemia and died when Kris was an adult. Kris still feels this loss strongly.
Kris tells us of his love for cooking class during high school.
“Mostly because I was always hungry. I love food,” he laughs.
Joining the army in 1988, the decision was simple and he trained to become a chef. Kris remained in the Australian Defence Force (ADF) until 1991 and, after his discharge, rose rapidly in a hospitality career, which included the Ritz Carlton Hotel in Sydney and a role as Executive Chef for the Brassey Hotel in Canberra.
Kris then began Media Studies at university and started work with the Australian War Memorial as its official videographer and cinematographer. In this role, he was deployed to Bougainville with the ADF in Operation Render Safe. His role was to photograph the work of the Explosive Ordinance teams who were clearing the island of bombs, remnants from World War II. At first, he was frightened by the danger. But this wore off quickly as he worked with such highly professional soldiers.
His next assignment was to the Philippines, again on a humanitarian mission. Here, he felt helpless as he documented, in still photographs and film, the devastation a typhoon had caused to people who had very little, even before the disaster. They had lost everything. At the same time, there were armed rebels in the mountains, always ready to attack the Australians who didn’t carry weapons. His photos from this deployment are now in the National Collection in Canberra and he comments that he is proud of his country.
“We were looking after our neighbours.”
Kris has become an award-winning artist, particularly for his documentary filmmaking. However, his focus has expanded and now he always carries a camera with him.
“It is an extension of who I am,” he says, quietly.
He holds dear the photographic documentation of the last years of his dad’s life. His father hated having his photo taken but tolerated Kris capturing natural poses. It was a special time for both of them. The contrast of darkness and light are strong in this series, as strong as the unbroken bond between father and son.
“I had to do it. It was about honouring my father”.
Kris takes pride in one particular photo, titled My Father’s Spirit Arrives. This was taken at the Australian War Memorial, a place where his father’s war service is recorded and immortalised.
“While I was taking this photograph, the Last Post ceremony was being conducted. I had this notion that my father’s spirit may still be with me and that he’d appreciate that I was taking him to the place where his legacy, and a part of him, can live on.
“When photographing, there’s a moment of looking and getting nothing. Then I’ll take a few more steps and I’ll get a feeling. I just know. It’s innate. I’m excited and I can’t wait to get the photo.
“Sometimes, I look at the image with both eyes open, away from the camera. I let the image go into my heart. Light and dark and the beauty of the moment is paramount.”
@kris_kerehona
