On Determination

I came home yesterday with two books and I think they warrant a blog. The first is Josef Koudelka’s Prague Invasion and the other, Nicholas Nixon’s The Brown Sisters.

Koudelka’s book is a collection of images taken during the 1968 uprising in his own country. It has been published in different forms over the years but never in such depth and breath. This edition by Thames & Hudson, is longawaited, and my only regret is that – it should have been a hardcover. Those familiar with this body of work will know that he went through a lot of personal danger to get them out.

Nixon, to me, is obsession-personified. For 33 years and more, he photographs the same four sisters. You see them age and change. So much of it is in the images, but even more lies beneath the surface. I want to know what went through their lives, their relationships with each other, with the external world, with Nixon. I love this simple project the first time I saw it more than 10 years ago and I am just glad I am now a proud owner.

Koudelka’s book took 40 years, Nixon’s project is in its 30++ years. There is something in them that makes me even more determined to stay the course.

Thank Goodness There Are Pictures

I have spent the last five days in Bangkok, in the comfort of a five-star hotel, and my daily routine involved a two-hour massage and three good meals. Three hours from I was, is Rangoon and Sichuan Province, where many people have died, lost everything they had; or trying to make a difference.

Should I be feeling guilty?

Just before you accuse me of being an indifferent individual, hold on.

Every night, I went to bed while listening to the news updates on either CNN or BBC. Every morning, I ate my breakfast accompanied by IHT, Bangkok Post and South China Morning Post.

I thought, from time to time, if I should cut short my holiday and head to one of the two disaster zones.

But would I be able to make a difference?

For the record, I received a call from an old contact at a NGO wanting to know if I wanted to go to Chengdu for them. I didn’t say no, I just said I was in Bangkok and won’t be back for another few days.

Earlier, a friend from Shanghai had asked if I would go with her. She felt that she had to do something to help. Later, I would read on her blog that she has decided that going to the disaster zone without a concrete plan would just add to the inconvenience of others, and she advised others against just heading west.

I am torn between wanting and not wanting. And let me try to explain why.

Some years ago, I was very active as a volunteer of a NGO in Singapore. I was their photographer for a year and when the Asian tsunami happened, my role was expanded into that a photography coordinator, where I got to decide who went where. It was in this capacity that I witnessed the best and the worst of photographers (and wannabes).

I met young people who insisted that they be dispatched into the “war front” though they wouldn’t even lift a finger to help move a box in our base in Singapore.

I also worked with photographers who went under our organization’s flag but were using our contacts to do magazine assignments they have gotten on the side.

One of the worst cases was a photographer who demanded that I switch an assignment so he could be in a place he wanted.

I had also the displeasure of dealing with schools that sent a whole bus-load of students (with catered lunch boxes no less) to our collection center, only that they were causing more fiasco than anything. And don’t laugh, the school even alerted the media about their participation.

Thinking back, I realized why so many of my worldly friends were less than encouraging when I told them about my NGO links.

Personally, I still want to help in whatever possible, but I am going to be patient about the whole episode. When the hype has died down, when I believe I can contribute positively without feeling that I am just another hawk, I would.

For the time-being, I am satisfied to be an arm-chair media critic, dishing out my opinions on the disaster coverage.

First, I would have to say the The Straits Times, my hometown newspaper, did exceedingly well with China. I was left speechless with the way words and images were used to put across the situation. Although shocking, the front page picture on May 14 (Wednesday), of a man holding the hand of a dead child, says so much for me.

I was looking for letters protesting the use of those images in ST, similar to those I read in the South China Morning Post, but there were none. I don’t assume that nobody in Singapore is unhappy with those gruesome images.

In all fairness, I didn’t think any of the pictures used made me feel as if the papers were trying to boost circulation.

I am, however, more cynical about the way the Chinese leaders are portrayed in the media. Though I applaud the apparent open-ness, I should point out that the open access to the Chinese leaders were mainly restricted to the Chinese press (at least according to the Wall Street Journal).

Instead of being critical about this and just dismiss them as staged photo ops, I rather subscribe to this other thinking: now that the leaders have set themselves such high standard, they are subjected to higher level of scrutiny. At some stage, I am sure someone will ask: were they for real?

I would hate for them to do a Rudolph Guiliani, who so shamelessly touted his role in 911, during his brief presidential bid, only for many who knew the truth to out him.

At least for now, we can be happy that good and important images have been coming out of Sichuan. I personally believe that as long as the rescue work is not finished, the world needs to be reminded, however painfully, there are still people who need help.

After all, can we ever say that the people viewing the shocking images are in more pain than those trapped under the rubble?

Too Busy For Posterity

This blog is inspired by a recent column by Financial Times columnist Anthony Haden-Guest. As my mark of respect for him, I have adopted the same headline for my entry. First thing first, read him regularly at www.ft.com/arts/columnists/hadenguest. He knows his stuff.

In this Oct 5 article, Haden-Guest, whose specialty is in collecting art, wrote about the late British photographer Terence Donovan but I feel that what happened to him could happen to anyone.

Donovan is not a name likely to pop up instantly when we talk about British photographer, but he was contemporary of David Bailey and was, in his own ways, a great success.

Donovan’s problem was probably common. Caught up with his busy commercial shoots and commission, he had no time to think about his place in art and history. He left behind a lot of works which were uncatalogued. And we all know this – if they are not indexed in some ways, they don’t exist. And if they don’t exist, it means nobody know about them.

I think we can agree that an acceptable measure of a photographer’s success should contain some of the following elements – his wealth, the volume of his life work, his influence, his place in history. But can we assume that the most “successful” ones are the ones who have everything?

Moving out of photography, football fans will probably remember some late English star died broke, and before his death, a precious medal he won had to be sold to pay for his debt. He had no wealth so to speak, but no one could deny his place in footballing history.

I had to go to the dictionaries to check out the definition of ‘posterity’. The word ‘future’ appeared a few times in my searches. But we all know the true meaning of the word, implied or otherwise, carries a much heavier weight.

Posterity would probably mean, in this case, the responsibility to leave behind a meaningful trace of existence, so that the future generation would be able to refer back in time and say that half a century ago, a certain Terence Donovan was making some of the best glamor images of his time.

It doesn’t stop here. Many would argue that photographers are, in their current pursuits, writing history for the generations to come.

However, in reality, the issue is much more complex. For a start, who, other than the most confident of the lots, would dare to think about his place in history, without fear of being called egoistical?

Posterity, unlike fame and wealth is also a more ambiguous concept. I think, for a start, stripped of all the grandeur, posterity is just a proof that one exists/existed.

But starting from this standpoint has its problems. Does it mean every photographer has the obligation to carefully archive all his works, providing ample documentation so that future researchers will be able to get the who-what-where-when-why-how answers?

Or should one start thinking of posterity when he is certain that he already earned a place in history and that he better provides accurate documentation of his life and work?

When I went to the Jacques Henri Lartique retrospective in Pompidou some years back, I was struck by how Lartique himself was a compulsive chronicler of his own life. The volume after volume of his sketch books, visual diaries, shed so much light about what he was thinking. But more importantly, they also provide useful insights to the time he was living in.

Who are we trying to impress?

Most of you know that for the past few days, I have been living in the world of Facebook. After getting past all the gimmicks, I was determined to make it work for me. Sure, chitchatting and getting reconnected with old pals is great but I am happy that I discovered a few things that are bringing me closer to what I think is nice. One such example is the ability to play Scrabble online. For those of us who work from home, you know what I mean: life can be lonely when you are processing 1000 images. Yesterday, I did something on FB which yielded some interesting findings. After posting some very unobjective images of Myanmar, I had a few instant reactions. A mom-to-be, who is more used to me sending her cute pictures of my nephew, said she couldn’t go on after looking at six pictures. A few wanted to know more about the context. Unsurprisingly, all who commented were not photographers. They seem to be mostly concerned citizens who are genuinely upset/concerned about the state of the world, compared to most photographers who who usually asked if I shot film or digital. I think it is also not far-fetched to predict that if I post my images in a public space like FB, more people click on them than if they were on my personal site. Well, it doesn’t bother me at all as long as they are seen, and hopefully, result in something positive. In fact, I should be pleased that I have now, the opportunity, to reach out to new audience. After all, shouldn’t my world be bigger?

Photographing Funeral

Early this week, a business associate asked if I knew of any photographer who provide funeral photography service. After searching my phone book thoroughly, I couldn’t find a single person who I believe would do it. Actually, I thought, why not? Why is photography limited to the happier (which is itself subjective) events like wedding. Shouldn’t the passing of someone at the right time and age be celebrated too? I wondered if it has anything to do with superstitions? I photographed funerals of my grandparents without much difficulties. I guess the difference might be that they both died at the ripe old age of 95. The difference is also that they are all closely related to me and since I am the better photographer in the family, if I didn’t do it, who will? Would photographers be more ready to accept such commission if they know that the family is relieved despite their loss? Would they be more prepared to shoot the final moments if they know that those images will mean a great deal in helping to remember and celebrate?

Collective

I just suddenly came to the realization that writers never have any agency/collective. Only photographers and some artists do. Am I correct? If so, anyone know why? I still don’t really know what are the real advantages of being in a collective, other than if you belong to one of the big names, you can say so and so is in same company as you. Ideally, collective can hire managers to do things we photographers don’t like, but then, if you don’t have enough business, how do you sustain the payroll. Comments anyone?