Recently in Photojournalism Category
Alas, nomenclature is sadly lacking in the field of 'art'. Am I a news photographer? A press photographer? A photojournalist? An artist? I deplore the latter moniker because the word is so misused. For me, art is the melding of form and content, and as that is what I strive to do then perhaps 'artist' is correct. But I'm happy to be called a photojournalist!
Sometimes, when things get hard to witness, I use my camera as a shield. It creates a space for me to work -- and distance to keep my eyes open and my feelings in check. But Miller had no use for a photojournalist. He needed a helping hand.(via Exposure Compensation)
Ashley Gilbertson has been photographing in Iraq since 2002. The latest issue of The Virginia Quarterly Review features a long, detailed article by Gilbertson and his wife called "Last Photographs" covering various experiences in Iraq, all centering on death and photography in some way. "Last Photographs" refers to the times Gilbertson has been the last person to photograph someone before they died, whether a US soldier or an Iraqi matriarch. In June, he was interviewed on NPR to promote his new book, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. The interview sheds some light on Gilbertson's motivations, including how his pro-intervention views have changed after years of covering the conflict. Photographs from the book will be on exhibit in October at Gallery Bar, 120 Orchard St.
Suaada’s dentures by Ashley Gilbertson
For comparison, listen to this interview with Time photographer Christopher Morris, from July 2003. At that time, according to Morris, photographing the wounded was allowable, but release of such photography was delayed to allow for notification of families.
Morris covered the ethnic cleansing in Bosnia, and like a lot of the photojournalists that covered that war, was outraged that the US did not act faster to intervene and put a stop to the genocide. Asked whether the US intervention in Iraq represented a change for the better in this regard, Morris squirms and says "I don't know if my role in society is to give my opinion." That strikes me as an astonishing position for a photojournalist to take, but maybe not for a modern Western journalist who believes journalism truly can be, and is, wholly objective and the only opinions that appear in a paper are on the editorial page. Compare to the position of Philip Jones Griffiths from a generation before: "To me, there is no point in pressing the shutter unless you are making some caustic comment on the incongruities of life. That is what photography is all about. It is the only reason for doing it."
He goes on to say, "We have bit off more, ah, than we can handle in the sense that we are in a region, as part of the world where we are not liked. No matter what we do, what good we do, what our intentions are, it will be turned against us. And I think we have opened a very serious can of worms that we will have to deal with for a long time." That was in the summer of 2003.
Two James Nachtwey shows are reviewed in today's NY Times.
Beauty is a vexed matter in scenes of suffering, cruelty and death. The difference between exploitation and public service comes down to whether the subject of the image aids the ego of the photographer more than the other way around. The two are not mutually exclusive.
I recently commented on War Photographer, a documentary about Natchwey.
The Sacrifice
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This comes a bit late, as do my Christmas cards, but nevertheless, a 2006 "Best Photos" roundup:
Time magazine
NY Times
Washington Post
Newsweek/MSNBC
Christian Science Monitor
Chicago Tribune
Reuters
The Time and NY Times photos are the best of the lot. The Chicago Tribune's are particularly provincial in topic and treatment.
UPDATE: For a much more comprehensive list, check out the 2006 roundup.
Two weekends back, I was astonished to find a long and prominent article in the Wall Street Journal (page 1) about the history of a single photograph. The photo depicts the execution of Kurds by Islamic revolutionaries and the article traces the history of the photograph in an attempt to identify its photographer, hidden for years by a shroud of anonymity for fear of retribution by the Iranian government. After being unable to find the article for free online (or the images), Google has helpfully pointed me to other folks more 'Net savvy than me.
Firing Squad in Iran, 1979 by Jahangir Razmi
No real time to comment beyond a couple of thoughts. First, though the article indicates that the photo was reprinted far and wide and generated great international condemnation of the revolutionary government, the lack of real action and change further underlines the limits of photojournalism even as powerful as this. Second, the visceral reaction to this particular image and why it was picked from a couple rolls of film to represent this event seems to be its similarity to "great execution art" of the past, as illustrated below. The aesthetic elements of even repulsive imagery simultaneously attracts our attention while dulling our understanding that such a picture represents a true event.
The Third of May, 1808: The Execution of the Defenders of Madrid, Francisco de Goya
The Execution of Maximilian, Édouard Manet
On Sept. 11, 2001, I worked about a mile north of the World Trade Center and watched from the middle of 5th Avenue as the north tower collapsed. It seems a small and insensitive thing to call out, but while I always carried a digital camera to work, the batteries were dead and I have no photographs from that day. I remember saying to a colleague after the first plane hit (and we were under the impression it was a small private plane) that I'd have many days to shoot that gaping whole as it'd take months to repair. Now, the camera has become my talisman - leaving home without one is an invitation to disaster.
In the Sept 3 Times, Garrison Keilor review's Watching the World Change, David Friend's meditation on photography's role in recording 9/11 and its aftermath. From the book:
As the morning crept on, New Yorkers poured into the streets, many to help, many in flight, all of them aghast. Out, too, came their cameras. Men and women by the hundreds, then thousands — bystanders with point-and-shoots, TV news teams, photojournalists by the score — felt compelled to snap history, fiery and cruel against the blue.
Keillor, as a writer, plays up the limitations of photography and a bit of disdain for the photographic impulse (and later, the commercial impulse to sell those images) but perhaps this is only a good counterbalance to Friend's cheerleadering for photography and its redemptive effects on memory. Maybe memory alone is not enough, yet there are some things about that day that some found just too much for photography's cold, eternal gaze. In any case, the act of putting the viewfinder to your eye amidst those events still seems an insensitive and self-absorbed response, but it was a necessary and good thing in many other ways. I'm guilty of a fascination with recording the event, too.
Particularly critical to our memory of what happened is the effort by Joel Meyerowitz to record the destruction and recovery efforts that started on Sept. 12th. After discovering that no photography was being allowed in the vicinity of Ground Zero (I ran into this several times over the course of the next few months.) In describing his impetus, Meterowitz says, "To me, no photographs meant no history." Now, putting aside the question of how we can understand history in pre-photographic times, it's a powerful project he undertook to catalog the clean-up effort, recorded in 8X10 negatives under the auspices of the Museum of the City of New York. The Guardian has a review...
