Monday, April 1, 2019

Julia Oldham’s Fallout Dogs


We are proud to be showing the film Fallout Dogs by Julia Oldham in our film nook. It will be showing through the month of April. Come by to view the film anytime the library is open. Below is the trailer for the film and an essay written by the artist.



FIRST CONTACT: The Dogs of Chernobyl  Julia Oldham

On April 26, 1986, I was a child of seven, safe in rural western Maryland, when an explosion
ripped through Reactor 4 of the Chernobyl Power Plant, in what was then the Soviet Union.
Over the following three days this terrible accident would release about 400 times the amount
of radioactive material than the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima. Around 300,000
residents of the city of Pripyat and the settlements around Chernobyl would be evacuated.
Details of the meltdown would be kept secret by the Soviet government.

On May 6, 2018, I am 38 years old, and my partner Eric and I are climbing into a van in Kiev,
Ukraine to be borne away into the countryside, our destination the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone.
After a two-hour journey through dense forests and tiny villages with our driver Nikolai, we
arrive at the first Chernobyl security checkpoint. There’s nothing to see yet -- just a road, a
security kiosk, some tough-looking security officers, a traffic gate, a coffee stand, and a
souvenir shop. There is forest on both sides of the road. Here we are united with our guide
Ludmilla, a 36 year old Ukrainian woman with a shock of bright pink hair, punky clothes, blue
Adidas, and a pair of radioactive trefoil earrings. She gives me a big hug.

Ludmilla and I have been emailing for months in preparation for the creation of Fallout Dogs.
She knows the dogs in the zone better than anyone, having spent years feeding them, giving
them medications and minor medical procedures when they are injured. I have told her that I
want to create a portrait of Chernobyl that is led by the movements and behaviors of the dogs,
and that I want to go wherever they spend their time. We have five days to accomplish this,
which is about as long as a tourist like myself is allowed to stay in the Zone.

In half an hour we pull over to the side of the road and Ludmilla leads us on foot down a back
road to a rowdy pack of gorgeous mutts who are leaping, barking, dancing and delighted to
see her. She carries a plastic shopping bag of freeze dried liver, tracheas, kidneys, and other
kinds of goodies that she calls her “stinky stuff.” Everywhere we go, the crinkling of this bag is
a lightning rod for dogs.

“This is Samantha,” she says, pointing to a large shepherd-y looking dog who is dashing into
the forest. And she points to another big dog with a puppyish gait and huge feet, and says,
“And this silly-pants doesn’t have a name yet. What should we name him?” I suggest Mr.
George, and he is dubbed Mr. George Silly Pants forever after. “Silly-pants” is Ludmilla’s pet
name for all the dogs with the goofiest personalities.

Following our new dog friends, we walk along a path that leads to the abandoned village of
Zalissia, my first glimpse into the haunting remnants of human life in the Zone. The Zalissia
Town Hall was once a beautiful wooden building, and inside it there is a stage for public
presentations with a delicately ornate but decaying proscenium. Above the stage is a large red
sign that says in Ukrainian, “Long Live Communism, the Future of Humanity.” The floor is
partially gone, so we walk gingerly along the remaining planks, not wanting to fall through and
break our legs. The dogs join us and scamper around in the town hall, wrestling and trying to
get Ludmilla’s attention. This space is now theirs.

As we continue walking through Zalissia, we pass traditional Ukrainian village houses that have
been empty for over three decades, an old Lada Zhiguli car rotting away in what was once a
driveway, openings to root cellars, and scattered possessions, like kid’s shoes, left behind. The
most poignant moment for me is when I come upon an old dog house sinking into the earth,
and a ceramic food bowl just outside it, filled with leaves, soil and rainwater. The heartrending
duality of this abandoned dog house alongside the presence of the joyous and energetic strays
sets the stage for Fallout Dogs and the portrait of Chernobyl that I want to share. This is the
beginning of my story.


You can read Julia’s bio and find out more about her artwork by visiting her website here.

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