{"id":5959,"date":"2012-03-08T06:34:37","date_gmt":"2012-03-08T12:34:37","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/smithjan.com\/blog\/?p=5959"},"modified":"2012-04-17T07:30:40","modified_gmt":"2012-04-17T12:30:40","slug":"aftermath-of-disaster-cape-times-interview-with-artist-jan-smith","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/smithjan.com\/blog\/2012\/03\/08\/aftermath-of-disaster-cape-times-interview-with-artist-jan-smith\/","title":{"rendered":"Aftermath of Disaster – Cape Times Interview with Artist Jan Smith"},"content":{"rendered":"

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Aftermath of Disaster: \u00a0Meditating on the Risks of Nuclear Energy – Cape Times, South Africa, March 8, 2012<\/h1>\n
$\"\"$ <\/a><\/p>\n
Art critique and columnist, Suzy Bell, of the Cape Times interviewed me while I was in South Africa presenting my work at the Erdmann Contemporary Art Gallery<\/a>, and working with the Koeberg Alert Alliance.<\/a> \u00a0The interview was very complete, but only a condensed version appeared in the paper. Here is the entire unedited interview.<\/p>\n
[CT]\u00a0 Are you working and living mostly in Mexico, where in Mexico? Have\u00a0you documented any environmental issues in Mexico? Which are they?<\/strong><\/p>\n
[Jan] I spend about 3-4 months per year in Mexico City, the rest of the time I am usually working on a story. \u00a0Ironically, and perhaps to a fault, most of my personal work in Mexico is non-environmental. \u00a0Instead I have focused on privately commissioned work for NGOs.<\/p>\n
[CT] Have remote and isolated modern-day ruins always fascinated you\u00a0even as a child? If not, at what point in your life did this fascination take hold and why do you think it did at that specific time or was it a gradual, growing \u2018fascination\u2019\/ area of concern?<\/strong><\/p>\n
[Jan]\u00a0 In a geographic sense, remote and isolated imply a certain dose of adventure in the unveiling of a story, and I certainly find that alluring. \u00a0This is very subjective interpretation however, and I am more interested in stories that are remote and isolated in the metaphorical sense. \u00a0Remote because it is hard for us to understand them, and we therefore push them away from us, making them smaller on the horizon of our thoughts. \u00a0Isolated because, regardless of their magnitude, they appear only occasionally, if at all, in our daily dialogue and memories. \u00a0It is not every day we think of Chernobyl or Fukushima although the size of the events, both geographically and in terms of the impact on human life is enormous.<\/p>\n
[CT]\u00a0 How did you get involved with Koeberg Alliance? I know you are here as a guest of the Global conference questioning nuclear power in Africa this March, but did they approach you directly and invite you here?<\/strong><\/p>\n
[Jan]\u00a0 I met Peter Becker, Chair of the Koeberg Alliance, at the Yokohama\u00a0Conference for a Nuclear Power Free World, in January, where we were both speakers. \u00a0We had an immediate corresponding interest in creating an informed dialogue on nuclear power on various levels. \u00a0Art, and photography in particular have the ability to converse on many levels and help make a very complicated topic, more accessible. \u00a0The Koeberg Alliance wanted to establish an art platform that complemented the conference. \u00a0Peter also wanted a more intimate perspective into nuclear wasteland than what is usually offered in main-stream media, and he felt my work provides that.<\/p>\n
[CT]\u00a0 You were invited to speak at the conference for a Nuclear Power\u00a0free world in Yokohama this year, with lessons from Chernobyl and\u00a0Fukushima, are you often invited to talk? What was the response of artists to your work in Fukushima? Or the conference delegates? Did it result in any potential collaborations with other artists\/photographers from Fukushima?<\/strong><\/p>\n
[Jan]\u00a0 My speaking about nuclear energy is relatively new,\u00a0if only because\u00a0the issue of nuclear energy per se, has only returned to mainstream socio-political discourse after Fukushima. As we approach the symbolic one-year marker after the disaster, there are many more venues addressing the topic of nuclear energy, many of which are looking to establish a very early dialogue in the arts. \u00a0This has certainly created an interest not only in my work, but that of others dealing with all things nuclear.<\/p>\n
The response has generally been very supportive. \u00a0My work in Japan was only possible thanks to the help and unselfish cooperation of artists, journalists, photographers, academics, NGOs and dozens of private citizens. \u00a0The list of collaborators is quite extensive. \u00a0Of course detractors exist. In Fukushima, there was sometimes the concern that I am dealing with a topic that is still too recent and too raw. \u00a0I disagree, however. \u00a0It is important we explore the issue quickly and robustly because there are over 500 nuclear reactors world-wide, most of them aging, and what just happened in Fukushima could happen tomorrow in any of these places.<\/p>\n
[CT]\u00a0 Your strong stand against nuclear power is pretty self-evident through your art and text but specifically what is your comment on SA\u2019s plans to order 6 more nuclear reactors this year?<\/strong><\/p>\n
[Jan]\u00a0 I think any society that already has or is contemplating the use of nuclear energy should strive to have informed debates on the matter. Nuclear energy is often presented as the efficient and safe alternative to fossil fuel dependency. \u00a0In reality, it is a very expensive proposition, chiefly because of the enormous amount of investment required to develop it. \u00a0Equal investments in time and monies could be directed to alternative energy projects that are safer. Frequently, the issue of nuclear waste is not included in the cost of nuclear energy, and when it is incorporated into national budgets, the end cost is not necessarily cheaper.<\/p>\n
The discussion is not only about being pro or anti nuclear–that would dangerously pigeonhole the discussion. \u00a0It is larger than that. \u00a0It is about re-examining public policy and new energy technologies; re-structuring our energy consumption habits; and of course diving deeply into the risks associated with nuclear energy. \u00a0The answers can be surprisingly simple and easy to act on. \u00a0For example, on an individual basis, if we are more conscious and efficient in our consumption of energy, we reduce our dependence on both fossil fuels and nuclear energy. \u00a0This can begin with small actions at home–turning-off lights we don’t use, for example. \u00a0The pass-through and cumulative result of small personal changes in our behavior can have enormous positive effects regarding our adoption of safer and more sustainable energy generating technologies.<\/p>\n
[CT]\u00a0 There are many images that include discarded toys, which is naturally highly poignant with the loss of innocent play for children and the fact that the children may have died or are now ill and can no longer seek the comfort of their toys. But interestingly, you take the emotive concern to the toy\u2019s point of view as in the toy\u2019s being discarded and radioactive in the image you took of the Chernobyl disaster in the Ukraine. Why the empathy with the toys, am curious? It is novel and very Toy Storyesque but I know you are an artist most concerned with deeper meaning so what did I miss here you can kindly share thanks?<\/strong><\/p>\n
[Jan]\u00a0 This is a complicated answer to give because it crosses many levels, and it is in itself the crux of that particular project, so pardon my lengthy response.<\/p>\n
“Igrushka” means toy in Russian, and it is also the name of the collection that has the portraits of toys. \u00a0I used the toys for a variety of reasons, and I was not consciously aware of all these motivators at first. \u00a0I developed the project over many weeks and visits to Pripyat, and therefore my feelings and motivation in the middle and latter days evolved and gained layers over my initial reactions.<\/p>\n
First off, the toys have to be put into a unique “archaeological” context. \u00a0The inhabitants of Pripyat (the city that was evacuated after Chernobyl) left most of their personal belongings behind. Nonetheless, these items are all gone 25 years later. \u00a0First, army decontamination crews removed them from apartments for burial. \u00a0The little that remained was then looted, to the point that few things actually remain in homes. \u00a0It is rare to find a book, or a piece of clothing or any sort of decortication or furniture. Schools are some of the very few places that offer any concentration of personal items, and even there, most schools are highly intervened. Visitors to Chernobyl are usually allowed to visit a handful a places under supervision and the combination of a limited access and 25 years of interference mean that is difficult to find something unique in the\u00a0city.\u00a0 I was fortunate in this regard.<\/p>\n
I was allowed to explore the city at will, and re-discovered the south western nursery. \u00a0It’s upper wings were barricaded behind a door with furniture in front of it. \u00a0When I cleared the rubble and entered, it was immediately obvious that little had been moved over 25 years. Toys abounded; clay figures still lay on desks where children left them, books still lined the shelves. \u00a0In terms of finding something different and “untouched” this was enormous! \u00a0I had a direct view into the way lives were 25 years ago–they way life stopped on the day of the accident. \u00a0This was no longer the same city, nor even the same country, and yet these toys were in the same place children had left them. \u00a0I was very excited!<\/p>\n
I also became aware of a cruel irony: the only things that survived in the same place for 25 years were items that had little importance, and yet to have little importance means to be forgotten. \u00a0Survival in exchange for anonymity. \u00a0Nonetheless, for the children who played with them, these toys must have had an enormous sentimental value. Children care little for furniture, decoration or clothes, but toys are sacred. \u00a0Had the children had the choice to take them away, I am sure they would have. \u00a0 The children didn’t have a choice, and adults placed toys on the bottom of the list of items to take in an evacuation. \u00a0Over the years, it was adults who looted the city, and they had little interest in old toys. \u00a0The toys survived because\u00a0nobody cared about them, and the only people who did–children–were\u00a0not there to defend them and take them home.<\/p>\n
Anthropomorphizing the toys was an easy next step. \u00a0Most of us did this as children with our toys. \u00a0We spoke to them, gave them names, and believed the toys had feelings and thoughts of their own. \u00a0I see nothing strange or naive with being able to tap back into that as adults. \u00a0To me, these toys were speaking and telling me a true story. In addition to casting light on Pripyat’s last days, they also offered insight into the games and customs of childhood in a Soviet culture. Their final position and arrangement in the classrooms told me volumes regarding how children played and what importance they gave to different toys, and therefore different values in Soviet and Ukrainian society.<\/p>\n
Once I had completed the toy portraits and began researching the fairy\u00a0tales and fables they represented, I showed the images to Ukrainian adults who were children at the time of the accident. \u00a0Spontaneously, they shared many discreet details of their lives. \u00a0The toys triggered all sorts of memories, becoming conduits to personal experiences and the first memories regarding Chernobyl. \u00a0In effect the toys progressed into a medium for accessing a collective past. \u00a0I later realized that most audiences could also connect easily with the toys because we could relate to them–after all, a toy doll is a nearly universal item.<\/p>\n
It was only later that I saw how the toys , for some people–and only outside of Ukraine–were reminders of the “child victims” you describe. \u00a0We’ve been conditioned by most media to associate these toys with dead or seriously ill child survivors–the infamous Chernobyl Children. \u00a0I think we are biased in this regard. \u00a0Despite the deaths and disease, most survivors of Chernobyl are healthy and productive. \u00a0If the toys represent something at all, it is a loss of innocence in Pripyat, a last generation of Soviet children, and the irony of surviving intact in Pripyat for so long. \u00a0I think this a fresh way of returning to the issue of Chernobyl 25 years later, and regard the transposition of empathy toward the toys as a valid means of accessing all of this.<\/p>\n
If you sense empathy for the toys, then I consider it a success, because it removes many rational defenses and allows us to connect with Chernobyl on a more sincere and common level.<\/p>\n
[CT]\u00a0 And in refugees from Pripyat you choose toys to symbolize the refugees, what made you choose more toy images, was it spontaneous or did it strike you immediately as being poignant and important to document it this way?<\/strong><\/p>\n
[Jan]\u00a0 The toys are actually paired with memories from children outside of Pripyat. \u00a0They are perhaps not direct survivors but witnesses to history and survivors by association.<\/p>\n
Second, the decision was spontaneous. \u00a0On a guttural level it felt right to develop a “Toy Story”. \u00a0I was aware of the clich\u00e9s this could create, and I wasn’t exactly sure what to do at first, but I immediately I had something very special in front of me that deserved my attention. \u00a0I spent nearly six months documenting, so the effect the toys had on me was profound.<\/p>\n
[CT]\u00a0 The accompanying text truly illuminates the images, did you do this\u00a0research yourself interviewing people? Did you do lengthy one on one personal face-to-face interviews, or did you skin down the narrative in each case to highlight the most poignant comments? Did you do this via email and social media?<\/strong><\/p>\n
[Jan]\u00a0 I interviewed over 200 people in all sorts of manners. \u00a0I had many\u00a0in-depth interviews that I latter filtered for pearls. \u00a0Some required help with translation. \u00a0Some were directly held in English, French or Spanish. As the project evolved I turned to email and social media. Igrushka had its own web site and social media pages, and I posted five questions that were relatively simple and fast to answer: \u00a0How old were you? \u00a0Where were you? \u00a0What is your name? \u00a0What was your favorite toy or memory at the time? What is your first memory of Chernobyl as a child? I also received many spontaneous emails, and many spontaneous answers from people who heard of the project through word of mouth.<\/p>\n
[CT]\u00a0 In a series of images, the theme of loss of schools\/school children\/family and infertility due to the radioactivity, was this your one of your key narrative layers of intention in documenting as you did?<\/strong><\/p>\n
[Jan]\u00a0 Off hand I don’t recall making any references to infertility due to radioactivity, but the references to lost childhood and family are of course there. \u00a0Asking people about their childhood in the context of Chernobyl sets the stage for feelings and associations of something lost, and I was conscious of this. \u00a0I think is an almost inevitable result–intentional or not.<\/p>\n
I deliberately wanted to stay away from the well-versed angles of cancer, death and mutation. \u00a0In limited doses, these approaches work, but too often they cause fatigue in the audience and among the protagonists. \u00a0Furthermore, this is not the full story. Not everybody who was there is ill, or dead. \u00a0What is true however is that for survivors and Ukrainians in general, collectively something was indeed lost. \u00a0Children then lived in a different reality–a Soviet reality. Chernobyl helped put an end to that time and ushered in a period of turbulent change and instability. \u00a0I wanted to address this, and in that regard, inserting, or relying on a sense of loss in my line of questioning was intentional.<\/p>\n
[CT]\u00a0 The melancholy mood of the interruption of lives in your Fukushima images are truly evocative. It must have been most overwhelming documenting these images, how did you cope doing this? How much time did you spend in Fukushima and how soon after the nuclear disaster \/ tsunami? And isn\u2019t your safety endangered in taking these images? Or do you dress in protective gear?<\/strong><\/p>\n
[Jan]\u00a0 I took the last of my Fukushima pictures on the 22nd of February. Most were taken a week earlier. \u00a0This is all very, very recent, and I entered the evacuation zones illegally to acquire many of the images. All in all I spent about 10 days in the Fukushima area this year, another two weeks in the tsunami affected areas further north, and four more weeks working in Tokyo.<\/p>\n
My accumulated dose of radiation is roughly equivalent to two mammograms. \u00a0Risk to myself at those levels is relatively low. \u00a0Using the mammogram as an example, it is a safer to be exposed to radiation in order to find breast cancer than not to have a check-up. \u00a0Could a mammogram cause cancer? \u00a0Perhaps, but it is extremely unlikely. \u00a0This does not mean these areas are safe! \u00a0Living there for a year is equivalent nearly 70 mammograms. \u00a0At that rate of exposure to radiation, the chances of one’s health being affected rises. \u00a0I knew the general I was being exposed to and therefore did not consider it necessary to wear any protective clothing. \u00a0In reality, the infamous white suits offer little protection against the worst types of radiation. \u00a0Less dangerous types of radiation are effectively blocked by our skin and clothes.<\/p>\n
I am not dismissing protective suits entirely however. \u00a0They certainly reduce the possibility of exporting radioactive particles that could later potentially be ingested and remain in the body or contaminate an otherwise clean area.<\/p>\n
I certainly feel strong empathy for the interrupted lives—indeed that is what motivates me to explore and showcase this story. \u00a0 Rather than overcome me it actually pushes me forward, and if I didn’t feel deep empathy I think I would fail in telling this story. \u00a0I feel responsible for telling\u00a0stories in a way that \u00a0lingers in people’s mind without resorting to shock tactics.<\/p>\n
Despite this, I must admit that on this occasion I was a bit distracted with the worry of being arrested.<\/p>\n
[CT]\u00a0 I like that the way in which you documented the Japanese doll festival was most unsentimental in not including portraits of the people but focusing on the inanimate objects that for the community hold such spiritual hope and power. Did you experiment doing both then discard portraits to focus on the poignancy of the dolls themselves or was your creative instinct to do this from the beginning? If you did choose not to use portraits with the dolls, what made you decide to do this? To show a new more subtle poignant less emotional\/sentimental focus compared to the brash media\u2019s style of documentation\/sensationalism?<\/strong><\/p>\n
[Jan]\u00a0 Thank you. \u00a0The doll portraits are actually some of my favorites. In practical terms I had nobody whose portrait I could take. \u00a0The owners of the homes where I found the dolls were evacuated. \u00a0Yet, if I had the choice, I would not choose to take portraits of the people–precisely because inanimate objects can envelop such power and communicate so much.<\/p>\n
I think the dolls in particular prove this point. \u00a0After my first encounter with the dolls I realized they were there for something other than one owner’s personal preference or collection. Furthermore, the way they were laid-out made it evident there was a symbolism to them. \u00a0I didn’t know what it meant at the time, but I could grasp that I was seeing something special. \u00a0It was only later, back in Tokyo that I learned what the dolls meant. I also learned that the doll ceremony is usually held the first week of March. \u00a0So in this sense, an inanimate object provided many clues, even to the point\u00a0of surrendering a date. \u00a0 They also held sufficient power to be recognized as special–even to an outsider–although the particularities of “why” were not originally known to me.<\/p>\n
I agree that portraits would perhaps be a more brash…or frontal? Way of exploring the topic. I generally find that approach unappealing because (at least to me) it leaves less room for visual exploration. The facts are quickly communicated; my mind understands it and wants to move on. \u00a0As a viewer I enjoy a subtle rapture with an image. \u00a0It teases, it haunts, it invites me to learn more, to understand it. \u00a0I think this is the allure of being subtle. \u00a0I think I often fail, but I do try to be softer. \u00a0When one succeeds, I think the result can actually be very emotional (without being syrupy) but in an honest and unadorned way that is stronger precisely because it is understated.<\/p>\n
[CT]\u00a0 Absence of people in your images is reflective of the after-effects of nuclear disasters and it is truly chilling when we know what the reason is for their absence. When you set out to document was it clear in your mind that this absence was crucial as you were reflecting the reality of this absence? Were you ever tempted to document portraits of \u2018survivors\u2019 or did that feel distasteful for you from the start due to the mainstream media\u2019s vulgar manner in doing just this and being highly sensational and alarmist and not going deeper into the communities less visible\/less obvious concerns. Is that why you chose instead to record their stories \/ comments voices\/personal histories instead?<\/strong><\/p>\n
[Jan]\u00a0 My interviews with evacuees and former residents were mostly outside of the zone. \u00a0It was a bit bizarre at times. \u00a0For example, I would be given instructions about where to go and how to get there, but then travelled alone or with only another photographer. \u00a0I would then come back and begin to understand what I saw through a new set of interviews.<\/p>\n
Occasionally, I would be escorted into the zone with a former resident\u00a0for a few hours. \u00a0Nobody lives there. \u00a0When that happened, they saw themselves as ambassadors of their communities and were keen in answering my questions about the place. \u00a0Personal anecdotes would of course emerge, but are mutual purpose was to tell a story that rose above individuality. \u00a0In this sense, I did feel it “vulgar” to use personal portraits to advance or help tell the story. \u00a0It felt like cheating. \u00a0And it also seemed a bit rude to choose one person’s face as emblematic of an entire town. \u00a0Ironically they would sometimes ask to have our picture taken together, but that is a private.<\/p>\n
[CT]\u00a0 The entire destruction or elimination of normal everyday life is inconceivable, when you met the community and spoke to them was there a common thread of response in expressing their loss? A common theme of concern?<\/strong><\/p>\n
[Jan]\u00a0 This is an interesting question because thinking back there were many different responses.<\/p>\n
Most of the evacuees I spoke to, or with whom I travelled into the zone with, were men. \u00a0The women and children stayed away or had evacuated to Tokyo or further south. \u00a0In contrast, in Tokyo I spoke to many more women, who conversely, had their husbands or brothers or sons still working near the exclusion zones. \u00a0The women were generally younger than the men. \u00a0In hindsight I realize each gender expressed and worried about different things.<\/p>\n
The men, in almost stereotypical Japanese fashion were more stoic, and\u00a0often communicated using silence and discreet posture. \u00a0They spoke of\u00a0the land, history, and alluded to their own awareness at being forgotten. \u00a0They seemed to accept their fate and were focused on reconciling loss with the pragmatic needs of building a new life. The women more readily expressed their anger and were more critical of the situation. \u00a0They spoke more about people and anecdotes.<\/p>\n
The evacuees from most towns generally agreed that the situation was\u00a0not solvable in their lifetime, and did not believe the government.\u00a0One exception to this was the city of Minamisoma. \u00a0Minamisoma had\u00a0about 60,000 residents and is now intersected by the evacuation zone.<\/p>\n
Half the city is restricted and the other half is open, but quite empty. \u00a0The town folk from Minamisoma are more stubborn in wanting to rebuild, decontaminate and return to their homes. \u00a0I got the impression they resented me, as if I was rudely underestimating their capacity to solve the problem.<\/p>\n
I think this was partially due to economics. \u00a0Minamisoma was a comparatively large city and rebuilding the city could restore a lot to the local economy. \u00a0Towns such as Namie and Itate were smaller, had an older population, and were more rural. \u00a0In some ways they were already fading.<\/p>\n
[CT]\u00a0 In raising awareness about the destruction of humanity and the\u00a0environment through nuclear disasters do you feel you tread a wafer-thin line of being an eco-activist and an artist or do you consider yourself most definitely playing the role of both and perhaps feel the more socially-politically active the artist the more arresting and significant the art?<\/strong><\/p>\n
[Jan]\u00a0 I have never considered my work as activist but can appreciate how it can help activist movements. \u00a0This is very different from creating work with the support of a particular cause already in mind. I don’t think art needs to be activist or opinionated to gain significance, but it is rewarding when other people find meaning in my work. \u00a0Such interpretation may emerge in ways that I did not originally imagine, but if the cause makes sense and I agree with it, I have no problem lending my art to promote the cause.<\/p>\n
[CT]\u00a0 May I ask who funds you to go to the sites of these catastrophic effects of nuclear disasters, or are you self-funded?\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n
[Jan]\u00a0 I’m mostly self-funded. \u00a0I recover my investments through gallery sales and the sale of my work to select publications.<\/p>\n
[CT]\u00a0 Tell me a little bit about Still, the organization you co-founded?<\/strong><\/p>\n
[Jan]\u00a0 It was an organization designed to help photographers based in Mexico to grow and gain exposure in the Mexican market. (they do not need to be Mexican) \u00a0I founded it with two other photographers in early 2008. We choose an annual theme to exhibit and invite emerging photographers to work and exhibit with us. \u00a0The exhibits usually start in Mexico City and then travel around the country. \u00a0We are still very small, but\u00a0have opted on working closely with a few people at a time.<\/p>\n
[CT]\u00a0 Are you an active member of any anti-nuclear organizations? Which one\/one\u2019s?<\/strong><\/p>\n
[Jan]\u00a0 I am a member of the Atomic Photographers Guild.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Aftermath of Disaster: \u00a0Meditating on the Risks of Nuclear Energy – Cape Times, South Africa, March 8, 2012 Art critique and columnist, Suzy Bell, of the Cape Times interviewed me while I was in South Africa presenting my work at the Erdmann Contemporary Art Gallery, and working with the Koeberg Alert Alliance. \u00a0The interview was … <\/p>\n
Read More “Aftermath of Disaster – Cape Times Interview with Artist Jan Smith”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[96],"tags":[1020,1023,185,1021,492,49,1022,1018,1019],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/smithjan.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5959"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/smithjan.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/smithjan.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/smithjan.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/smithjan.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5959"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/smithjan.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5959\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5963,"href":"https:\/\/smithjan.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5959\/revisions\/5963"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/smithjan.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5959"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/smithjan.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5959"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/smithjan.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5959"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}