Interview: Mark Menjivar
If "you are what you eat," then you're kind of gross
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Mark Menjivar: I’ve only had one person say no. It was the wealthiest person that I’ve met in the project. The project is set up almost as an economic evaluation. On one end, I have a woman who lives on a $413 fixed income. She’s way out there: extreme mental illness, on and off the streets. Her apartment was pretty shocking, the conditions she was living in. On the other end, I have this anesthesiologist, a multimillionaire on this 10-acre plot of land outside Dallas. And there’s everybody in between on that economic scale. I just did a guy who’s a bar backer, so he carries 10 thousand beers a night. He’s on a total reverse schedule from the world. He goes to bed at 8 or 9 a.m. and wakes up at 5 or 6 p.m. and goes to work. His refrigerator had 17 to-go containers. It was like solid Styrofoam and enchilada plates in tinfoil. It stunk so bad, I had to close the fridge three times. He had put a stick of incense inside and let it marinate, so it was pretty nasty. Coming up I’m photographing a bounty hunter’s refrigerator.
Photo of the author's refrigerator.D: Can you guess what someone’s fridge will be like based on talking to them, or deduce something about a person based on their fridge?MM: In some ways, but there are always surprises. Usually if somebody’s young and hip, they’re going to have a bunch of organic stuff. People living in poverty, the food is not very nutritious. One of the questions I’m looking at is, “What do we share?” You find butter in almost everybody’s refrigerator, whether it’s a tub or margarine or a stick of unsalted Central Market whatever.
D: Are you hoping to raise awareness about issues of malnutrition?
MM: I’d be lying if I said that there wasn’t some of that in it, because I’m definitely curious. It’s [a question of] stewardship—not only of our bodies, but how we take care of others. It’s crazy to see the little amounts of food people live on, and to know there are children living in that household. Where our food comes from is another. I’ve messed around at different times with being a vegetarian and a flexitarian, and discipline comes up again and again. I’ve been doing a food log since March 6, 2008. I’ve written down everything I’ve eaten and I’ll do it until this March 6, so it will be one year of everything I’ve eaten. I value food grown locally—but man, if you look at my food log, I’m lazy. I eat a good amount of fast food. I drink a lot of beer and a lot of nasty stuff. It’s embarrassing. There’ve been nights that I’ll read it out loud, like poetry.
D: How do you decide what information goes on the placards accompanying each image?
MM: I include the adults in the household, their profession, city and state, and the last one is a quirky statement, something I found interesting. That’s so subjective. Sometimes it relates directly to the image, like the vegetarians [who had just started that week], or the Red Cross board member who says he sleeps with a loaded .45 on his nightstand. Some are humorous, some are very serious. One woman weighed 390 pounds, which is disabling. She wept when we talked. A refrigerator is a very private thing. One person likened it to being asked to pose nude, which I thought was an interesting parallel.
D: What’s the weirdest thing you’ve seen so far?
MM: I’ve seen all sorts of weird things: a snake, pubic hair, gnats and flies. I’ve seen placentas from home births. One guy who lives out in the middle of the desert—he was the owner of a defunct amusement park—is a food hoarder. He was a soldier in Hitler’s S.S. He was with the Nazi army and got captured and thrown into a P.O.W. camp and almost starved to death. His father actually died of starvation, so he’s a food hoarder. I lost count at twenty-something boxes of food he’d stacked in the hallways from the food bank, and the refrigerator was completely stuffed with expired food. Every day he goes Dumpster-diving and fishes out more.