Throughout the semester, it’s come to my attention how important ethics come into play in taking a photo. Whether it’s the portrayal of women in fashion, or pondering if a picture would do a family justice, ethical debates are constantly being brought up, even among the most “innocent” of photos. To that, I really respect the overall care that the photojournalists we studied put into their work. For example, when Ashley Gilbertson spoke about Bedrooms of the Fallen, and how he worked with each family to produce a final product, our ethical questions regarding whether it was appropriate to photograph very personal spaces was answered. Similarly, in photos of dying subjects or of those about to die, I learned that it’s often times appreciated to have that memory preserved for not only the family of lost ones, but also for a photo to serve a purpose as evidence to achieve a greater good. I find it truly inspiring that the work of a photojournalist expands far beyond the camera. To that, while the photojournalists we studied seem to be capturing mere reality, these moments in time can ultimately help achieve something greater– like peace, or justice. That in itself is extremely profound.
Spring 2016
Author: Mia S Jacobs
Go to this site!
http://msj3328.wix.com/foodnyc
After coming across Starved for Attention, I began thinking about how to bring about change without asking for donations. Something that we talked about a lot during the discussion about Starved for Attention was the site’s use of a petition. We came to the conclusion that the petition was a good idea, but some parts of the website were not entirely convincing enough (i.e. the amount of content on the site, stereotypes of women and children) to prompt a viewer to enter their name into a petition and support their cause.
For my final project, I was inspired to tackle the idea of hunger in New York City. Like Starved for Attention, I thought that creating a site that ultimately encourages users to sign a petition would be an effective way to present a problem, and a call to action. I then realized that impoverished around the world tend to grow their own foods, despite having little to no money. The opposite is true in New York City. The more I thought about it, the more I understood that people living in poverty in New York City are more likely to buy unhealthy and nutritionally lacking fast food rather than fresh, pure foods. That is because seemingly basic items, like tomatoes, lettuce, radishes, etc. can be considered luxury items, and a privilege if one is able to afford them.
The cost of living in New York is excessively high. According to the Council for Community and Economic Research, groceries in New York cost between 28% and 39% more than the national average (Wallace). To that end, New York City sees elevated levels of poverty. In 2015, New York City reported an 18.3% poverty rate, compared to statewide poverty rate of 15.9% (NYSCAA). With necessities like food costing significantly more than the rest of the country, and considering the poverty rate in New York City, I wanted to explore the cost of food in New York City and try to find a solution to help those of low socioeconomic statuses to be able to attain healthier foods. Clearly, those who are impoverished are not doing anything wrong when they buy fast foods. But for a dollar in New York City, one could buy either an entire meal at McDonald’s, or a single, raw vegetable at a market—if that.
At first, I created a website to demonstrate the price of food in New York. I attempted to contrast food that can be bought at different price points, such as $1.00 pizza and McDonald’s, versus a Russ & Daughter’s lox and bagel board, or farmer’s market vegetables. For the sake of my own aesthetic style and also to dignify the food at all price points, I attempted to make each photo look as appealing to the viewer as possible.
Once I created that, I had decided that I proved a point, but in emulating Starved for Attention, I needed a potential solution to the issue and some call to action. I immediately thought that community gardens placed in empty lots in low-income neighborhoods would not only help to beautify the city, but would also help to educate and empower people who may not be able to afford fresh foods. Similarly, community gardens are sustainable, and would ultimately save its residents money.
In an NPR podcast titled, There Goes The Neighborhood, an organization called Arts East New York had created art installations in an empty lot, which served to educate the community and bring people together. This is exactly my intent for advocating the development of community gardens. However, the lot mentioned in the podcast was taken over by developers under Mayor DeBlasio’s 80/20 affordable housing project.
This development program, titled, the Mandatory Inclusionary Housing program creates new buildings (often in low income neighborhoods) that guarantee a certain percentage of housing to be allocated for low-income buyers. While this is a great idea in theory, the podcast mentions that many of these new buildings are going up in areas where gentrification is happening. To that, if predominantly young, well-off residents move into these buildings and gentrify the area, this will create bigger disparities in the community, and original residents will continue to struggle. We can see this through the opening of “high end” grocery stores like Whole Foods, which cater to a much higher price point than many can afford.
As a result, I decided that my call to action would be to petition Mayor DeBlasio. While his development plan has been approved by the city council, the goal of my website is to convince him to allocate a certain percentage of lots in low income neighborhoods to be developed as community gardens.
In order to convince website visitors to sign the petition, I’ve also included two resources that demonstrate how to create a community garden. The first, called Urban Reviewer, is an interactive map created by 596 Acres, a nonprofit aiming to create community spaces in New York’s empty lots. This feature could be used to demonstrate the number of empty lots in New York City, but could also encourage viewers to find an empty lot near them. Additionally, I provided a link to an article that explains how to start a community garden in New York City. It attempts to make the process easy. Ena McPherson, a woman who works at two community gardens in New York, states, “You don’t need money to start [a] garden, you just need to get yourself hooked up with the [city] agencies, the resources out there to get you started” (Evelly).
In the end, I hope that my website serves as a good starting off point for people to begin thinking about the benefits of a community garden. I think that my choice of digital format is necessary in presenting multiple issues. The photos that I took for this project are only a starting point. Through a well-organized, visual experience, I would hope that the simplicity of the website that I created would ultimately help to convince people to sign the petition.
Works Cited:
http://www.starvedforattention.org/
https://smartasset.com/mortgage/what-is-the-cost-of-living-in-new-york-city (Wallace).
http://www.wnyc.org/shows/neighborhood/
http://www1.nyc.gov/site/planning/plans/mih/mandatory-inclusionary-housing.page
http://www.urbanreviewer.org/#map=12/40.7400/-74.0012&sidebar=plans
McCurry’s photos capture a beautifully natural way of life in India. His photos depict an extremely diverse society that ultimately differs so much from our own. McCurry focuses on India’s infrastructure in cities, architecture in holy sites, and the Indian people. He presents themes which address the gradual modernization of India, like Bollywood movie posters, but also captures aspects of Indian and Hindu culture, like Holi and various gods. Similarly, McCurry photographs poverty in a very aesthetically pleasing way. His use of saturated color and well-composed photos somewhat contradict the more desperate nature of some of his subjects. This in itself blurs the lines between documentary, and fashion photography, but also presents questionable motive for the photographer himself. McCurry’s highly aestheticized pictures are reminiscent of Ron Haviv’s work, specifically when he captured young girls in Darfur on their way to retrieve water for their families.
Perhaps the most stunning of McCurry’s work in India are his portraits. In a photo depicting a young girl wearing beautiful clothes, and has a pierced nose. There is no context to the photo, and while the girl in the photo is decked in colorful, shiny garb, there is no way for the viewer to know the context behind the photo. As a result, the viewer focuses merely on aesthetics. The girl herself is beautiful, and her eyes capture light so that the viewer is immediately pulled into her gaze. Her hands are gripped at her chin as if she is resting her head. The girl’s facial expression is emotionless but intent at staring straight into the camera. The use of color in this photo is important to giving the photo depth. In contrast, a black and white version of this photograph would not be as impactful, since small details and color contrasts would be lost.
The lack of context in this photo is interesting because the viewer is forced to focus on purely the aesthetic beauty of the shot. For all the viewer knows, this girl is well-off– but this may not be the case. McCurry’s photo can be contrasted to Haviv’s similarly composed shot of three girls fetching water in a desert in Darfur. The photo is presented in color, and there is no context besides the three girls, and one acting as the focal point of the photo. She is dressed in beautiful clothes, and the viewer may focus only on the aesthetic beauty of the shot. There are many opinions on Haviv’s photos, with some saying that the aesthetically pleasing qualities of his work yields more to fashion photography, or even toward staged portraiture. The use of saturated color in the photos leads the viewer to see the subjects as staged models, rather than regular people. I believe that while the loss of color would make the photos less aesthetically beautiful, but the use of monochrome may create more empathy between the viewer and the subject since the subject wouldn’t be seen as a model. The same goes for McCurry. If his portrait of the young girl was in black in white, her hand position may be seen as “begging”, or even “scared”. This would create more emotion with the viewer and shift the focus away from aesthetics.
Similarly, in a documentary-style photograph depicting a woman and a child outside a car window appearing to be begging caught my eye. On the inside of the car, McCurry is taking the photo of the girl and the child she is holding. On the outside, the woman and her child are exposed to the rest of the world, it is raining, and they are begging him for food. The photo itself is beautiful. The viewer’s eye turns immediately toward the woman and her red clothes, which is contrasted by the darkness around her. I find it interesting that McCurry chose to capture poverty in such a visually pleasing way. At the same time, this photo could also be easily staged, and based on the other photos he has taken (like the portraits), this seems possible. Primarily, my concern with this photo goes back to the idea that he is portraying people in a more model-like, aesthetically pleasing way, rather than in a documentary style. While there is no given context to the photo, the viewer can infer that the girl is a beggar and is looking into McCurry’s car to ask for money.
There are blurred lines between documentary photography versus fashion photography between both McCurry and Haviv. McCurry’s work tends to follow the same logic as Haviv from a visual standpoint. The difference between a photo that focuses merely on aesthetics versus a photo that is entirely free of any staging becomes unclear through both McCurry’s photos and Haviv’s. At the same time, Haviv says that his photos are documentary, which does extend to creating photos with highly aestheticized qualities to them.
While Haviv’s photo of the Serbian paramilitary member kicking a civilian was taken in 1992, its implications as documentation of war crimes has had continued effects beyond the nineties. The photo, which has been mentioned in Time Magazine, NPR, and The New York Times, among other sources, has been analyzed by media outlets. Similarly, these critiques often yield to criticisms of Haviv, rather than merely the photo that he took.
Today, Haviv is credited with capturing a war crime or a genocide, and is primarily looked at in a positive light. He is seen as a hero of sorts, due to his willingness to risk his life to capture moments that reflect the horrific nature of Arkan and his men. In a 2015 interview with Anthony Feinstein of the Canadian Globe And Mail, it is stated: “Twenty years after the photograph was published, Bosnians still respond to Haviv in a way that amazes him. “I’m so happy to meet you … I appreciate everything you did. And then they start crying”’. To that, Haviv’s photos have created a lasting legacy on the Bosnian people. Although he captured gruesome and violent scenes, the Bosnian people still appreciate his work because it helped expose aspects of the war to the rest of the world.
While Haviv’s goal was to expose Arkan’s men and objectively capture what was happening, these efforts may have not been enough to sway the actual indictment of the paramilitary members after the war was over. In the Balkan Transitional Justice, an article titled, Arkan’s Paramilitaries: Tigers Who Escaped Justice, delves into the idea that justice has not been fully restored to the region more than twenty years after Haviv’s photos were taken. The article states, “many believe that Arkan’s men have not been prosecuted because of their leader’s links to Serbian police officials, politicians and organised crime”.
In other modern instances, the photo has become so popular that it has been misappropriated. In a Time Magazine article from 2014, author Josh Raab states that Haviv’s “photo recently went viral on Facebook and Twitter, with a caption claiming it portrayed Ukrainian soldiers in Crimea”. Due to the popularity of the photo and the striking impact that it has on an audience, the photo was easily transformed into a provocative representation of the events of a different era, and place. Although the photo was used to sway an uninformed audience, the visual aspect of the image itself still created a profound impact on its viewers.
To that, it is important that as many people reflect on this image as possible, on the terms that the image is used correctly. The image should be used as a representation of war crimes, and should serve as a reminder of genocide with hope that these actions will not be repeated. As far as critical analysis, I believe that Haviv’s interpretation and opinions of this photo should be held to the highest regard, since he shot the photo in the first place and was present when this occurred. Similarly, articles should focus on the triumph of capturing this photo and the impact that it has had on others, rather than stating that the photo itself was not enough to sway opinion and outcome. While the photo was meant to be influential, a single, objective work cannot be expected to change the world entirely. Rather, it serves as yet another piece of evidence to the atrocities of the world.
Sources:
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/national/capturing-a-war-crime/article25016202/
http://www.balkaninsight.com/en/article/arkan-s-paramilitaries-tigers-who-escaped-justice
Susan Meiselas’ Nicaragua series not only depicts bloody images of war. Rather, she chooses to capture images of daily life that don’t necessarily yield to violence. However, in the context of the series and through the idea of looming violence, these otherwise “mundane” images can have dark connotations. For example, Meiselas’ photo captioned, “Marketplace. Diriamba.” depicts a typical outdoor market scene. There are women with children holding hands, and baskets of vegetables in the background. The primary focus of the piece is a young boy in the center of the photo. He carries a white sack and he kneels below a merchant who holds out plastic soldiers. The boy’s eyes are fixed on the soldiers, and his eyebrows are furrowed as if he’s frightened. It doesn’t seem like the boy wants to buy the soldiers—rather, he merely looks at them from below.
NICARAGUA. Diriamba. Marketplace.
In the context of the rest of the Nicaragua series, this photo is interesting in that the boy seems to be scared of the plastic soldiers. The imagery of the soldiers holds a significance since they connote violence. With the ongoing conflict between the Somoza family and the Sandinistas, the viewer can disregard the seemingly “normal” nature of the photo and can apply a more negative view on the context of the photo. The soldiers loom above the boy and can be seen as symbolic to the nature of the conflict: violence can occur anywhere, even in a marketplace like the one depicted in Meiselas’ photo.
In the context of Meiselas’ interview, Connectivity, with Drake Stutesman, Meiselas speaks about providing context to photographs through captions. In Nicaragua: June 1978- July, 1979, Meiselas does provide captioned photos, but these are placed at the end of the book so that the reader judges the image for themselves before becoming influenced by a caption. In the interview, Meiselas says, “But of course I’ve made photographs that just stand along and live along and I’m intrigued by that, too, and by what the viewers are then forced to bring to it from their imagination, rather than responding to the image re-contextualized by either sound or text”. This notion of a non-captioned photo could provide a brand new context to “Marketplace. Diriamba.” if the viewer wasn’t aware that the photo was taken during the Somoza regime, and the civil war.
Although the photo in focus is vaguely captioned as “Marketplace. Diriamba.”, Meiselas’ piece was presented in the context of her Nicaragua book which pertains to the war in Nicaragua. To that, if this photo were to stand alone out of the context of the other photos in Meiselas’ collection, the viewer may have a completely different perception of the scene, since nothing in the composition is telling of violence. The colors in the photo yield to a pleasant environment. These colors are primarily brought out by the clothes that the people in the background are wearing. Similarly, these clothes don’t indicate any sign of warfare or hardship. People are walking, rather than running; children are present. The boy kneeling in the center of the photograph can have a face of determination, rather than a face of fear.
The photographers at the Vii collective represent a multitude of backgrounds, and similarly, they are stationed around the world from Chile, to Cameroon, to Bangladesh. Since Vii was established in 2001, their photos are shot primarily in digital format, as opposed to Magnum’s use of film throughout much of the collective’s industry. To that, Vii presents photos in both black and white and in color. Vii covers current events like “Iowa: Republicans”, by Danny Wilcox Frazier, but also focuses on “visual storytelling” of cultural focus through pieces like “A Detroit Requiem”, also documented by Frazier. The small size of Vii makes for a more exclusive feel within the group itself, but I find it interesting that the collective also advertises their multitude of partnerships, alongside workshops that are open to the public.
The two photographers I chose to focus on are Danny Wilcox Frazier, and Sim Chi Yin. As Wilcox Frazier is based in Iowa, I found the contrast between him and Beijing-based Chi Yin to be interesting. Despite being stationed on opposite sides of the world, both photographers portray political photographs in their own right, and both capture the everyday lives of ordinary people, often times in poverty-stricken areas. I found Wilcox Frazier to be unique in that he’s based in the Midwest, rather than a large city. Similarly, Chi Yin is one of the only women in the Vii collective, making both photographers unique from a “typical” male, city-based photographer that we so often see in both Vii and Magnum.
The first photo by Wilcox Frazier is from his series, “A Detroit Requiem”. The series depicts the East Side in “America’s poorest largest city”, with photos of decay, murder, and poverty-stricken communities. The photo itself depicts Da’Rius Brown, a toddler, running “through garbage in the driveway of an abandoned house that sits next to his home”. The boy is almost naked—he wears just a diaper. The photo is shot in black and white and assumedly in digital format, but the entirety of the composition is blurry and depicts movement. For me, the photo resonated with the work of Robert Capa on D-day and during the Spanish Civil War. Wilcox Frazier’s series does depict a “warzone” in a way. With high murder rates and abandoned property with debris, Da’Rius is running through and toward danger whether he wants to or not. To that, life still continues for the people who live in this area of Detroit. The fact that Da’Rius is wearing only a diaper speaks to his vulnerable state. Similarly, his parents are not in the photo, which yields to a certain feeling of chaos and freedom that speaks to the larger themes of Detroit.
Da’Rius Brown runs through garbage in the driveway of an abandoned house that sits next to his home on the East Side of Detroit, Michigan. Da’Rius has lost two uncles, De’Erion Sherrors and Chaise Sherrors, both shot to death on Detroit’s East Side.
The second photo I chose from Wilcox Frazier is from his series titled, “Iowa Political Circus”—a series in which he follows various US presidential candidates’ campaigns around Iowa in the days leading up to the caucus. The photo depicts a café in Iowa City, Iowa captioned, “Supporters and voters listen as New Jersey Governor Chris Christie speaks at the Hamburg Inn No. 2”. The photo depicts a crowd of predominantly white men gathered in the Hamburg Inn facing leftward, but Chris Christie is noticeably not in the composition. The photo becomes political only in context. Normally, the viewer would merely see this photo as just a crowded café, but in this case, Wilcox Frazier’s caption gives the photo context since its purpose is not self-explainable on its own. When the caption provides the viewer with knowledge that the people depicted in the photo are listening to Chris Christie, an opinion is automatically formed. To that, the viewer perceives the photo based on their own view, despite the photo being objective and lacking a central focus. To the uninformed viewer, the people in the photo are merely present (the black and white image doesn’t allow any particular person to stand out), but the caption itself gives the viewer insight into these peoples’ ideologies, which yields to judgment.
Supporters and voters listen as New Jersey Governor Chris Christie speaks at the Hamburg Inn No. 2 in Iowa City, Iowa.
The first photo I chose from Sim Chi Yin is from her series titled, “The Water Seller”. The series is set in a quickly-developing Myanmar, but Chi Yin follows the lives of water-sellers who rely on Myanmar’s lack of bottled water to make a profit. The color photo that I chose depicts Chit Min Oo, a water-seller, drawing a “tattoo” on his arm in ballpoint pen. The photo states that Min Oo “can often be found either smoking cigarettes or doodling. He has a reputation for being good at doodling on the train, other water-sellers often ask him to tattoo them with his ballpoint pen”. The design of the tattoo itself could be influenced by Western culture and the idea of globalization that is contributing to Myanmar’s development, but it certainly serves as a contrast to the normally grueling workday that water-sellers endure. This photo gives character to Min Oo, who may only be viewed in a one-dimensional way by the (likely Western) viewer. The photo also speaks to the idea of an innate human nature to find free time and enjoy leisurely activities—this is common among everyone, and the viewer can resonate with this photo in some sense.
The second photo I chose from Chi Yin is from her series titled, “The Great Divide”. The series exposes the huge gap between rich and poor in Beijing—an issue caused by a lack of socioeconomic mobility within the city. The photo is captioned, “A worker talks on the phone in front of an advertisement for luxury goods”, and depicts a modestly dressed man on a (non-smartphone) cell phone leaning on a cart in front of a photo of an Omega watch. Compositionally, he is at the bottom of the image and the ad of the luxury watch towers over him, larger than life. At the same time, the worker and his cart take up almost exactly half of the photo, allowing the viewer to note his presence and the watch equally. There is no middle-ground in the photo, which can point to the idea that Chi Yin is trying to portray within the series—the disparity between rich in poor creates a huge gap in Chinese culture. To that, the worker depicted in the photo will likely never be able to afford the Omega watch behind him.
I’m currently a freshman in the Liberal Studies Core Program, but I’m planning to transfer to Gallatin. I’m not entirely sure what my concentration will be, but I’m thinking of incorporating marketing, journalism, and photography together. I currently intern at Milq, which is a social media site focusing on user-curated playlists in both music and culture. I’m always on Instagram, and I have an unhealthy obsession with tacos, Vampire Weekend, and Ray’s Candy Store.
The Magnum collective overall represents a vast variety of photos which differ not only in style, but content. Magnum’s front-page photo collections demonstrate the collective’s ability to be in touch with current events, exemplified through pieces like, “Syrian Refugees in the US”, “Kurdish Offensive in Sinjar”, and “Paris attacks”. At the same time, Magnum also seems to be interested in smaller scale occurrences that still resonate with relevant themes like portfolios covering a “Gay Synagogue in New York”, and “Unselfies”, a series which photographer Alex Soth takes the conventional selfie and distorts his own face. Thematically, Magnum covers a diverse range of topics, from the serious issues of global warming, child labor, September 11th, to topics like The Laugh, Creative Spirit, or extreme sports. All of these photos are compiled by a diverse group of contributors currently stationed around the world, from John Vink, based in Cambodia, to Michael Subotzky, based in South Africa, to Alec Soth, based in Minnesota. To that, most current photos featured on the website are in color, as opposed to the black and white “standard” that Magnum’s founders accepted.
Regarding the two photographers in focus, I chose Henri Cartier-Bresson, and Michael Christopher Brown. I was interested in viewing the work of Cartier-Bresson since he’s one of the founding members of Magnum, additionally because he mentioned that he disliked the use of color film. I thought that it would be interesting to see his use of light and contrast in his photos in order to make a good composition. In my opinion, it is harder to create a more compelling photo in black and white since grey-tones can often blend together and lose contrast, creating an uninteresting photo. In contrast, the second photographer I chose to focus on is Michael Christopher Brown, since his work is more current and he produces work in color. His series, “Honduras, Deported from the US” was featured in the “Latest Stories” section of the website and I was interested in his use of saturated color pictures, as well as his portrayal of the topic itself.
The first photo by Cartier-Bresson is from his Soviet Union portfolio. The photo was taken in Talinn, Estonia in 1973, and the image is captioned, “Cellulos industry. Training for dance championship.” The composition of the photo presents two focuses—a couple ballroom dancing behind a doorway in the left-third of the photo, and a quote from Vladimir Lenin facing toward the viewer which takes up the right two-thirds of the composition. This quote, which partially translates to, “We are the future of the party” serves as communist propaganda. Similarly, it is set alongside a series of empty chairs, which hints at a more common portrayal of the USSR from a Western perspective. Western media portrayal of Cold War-era USSR is one that reflects a bleak lifestyle under an oppressive regime. To that, glimmers of everyday life were not the primary focus of the Western media. While quality of life was arguably poor, Cartier-Bresson’s photo depicts a glimpse into the leisure-aspect of this era, a notion that is often looked over.
SOVIET UNION. Estonia. Tallinn. 1973. Cellulos industry. Training for dance championship.
Cartier-Bresson’s second photo in focus is from his Mexico portfolio, taken in Mexico City 1934. Its caption states, “Prostituées. Calle Cuauhtemoctzin”. The photo depicts a portrait of a prostitute in Mexico City leaning out of a cutout doorway. The older building with its cracked-paint doorway can be juxtaposed to the young woman, whose eyes lie just above and to the right of Cartier-Bresson. The subject of the photo itself is interesting in that she is clearly a young woman, but her pursed lips and and almost furrowed brows indicate hardship. Similarly, there is a darkness under the woman’s eyes that age her. At the same time, her hair is made-up and she wears a “revealing” top, which indicates that she is soliciting customers. Cartier-Bresson creates a composition that lets the viewer draw their eyes toward the woman’s face, as opposed to her other features. Cartier-Bresson chose to capture everyday life, but his choice to photograph a prostitute is unconventional, and serves as a somewhat unspoken approach to the on-goings of a city.
MEXICO. Mexico City. Prostituées. Calle Cuauhtemoctzin. 1934.
The first piece I chose from Michael Christopher Brown is from his featured portfolio, “Honduras, Deported From the US”. The photo was taken in San Pedro Sula in 2015, and is captioned, “Plagued by gang violence, the city has had the highest murder rate in the world for the last four years.” The photo itself depicts a body wrapped in plastic inside of a bloody van. The photo’s colors are very saturated, and the vignette around the borders of the composition draw the eye straight toward the center, where a bloody foot sticks out of a body bag. The use of color as opposed to black and white makes the photo more powerful, since blood is present. Brown’s photo series follows the life of a man who was deported from the US as he returns back to Honduras. To that, while Brown’s photo in focus does not depict the deported man himself, it is telling to the dangerous lifestyle that he faces as a result of being deported. While the photo is not opinionated, its imagery helps the viewer to not only empathize with the deported man, but to form an opinion on deportation itself. Deportation in the US is often times viewed as an implication-free act, but Brown’s photo shines a light on to the issue.
HONDURAS. San Pedro Sula. 2015. Plagued by gang violence, the city has had the highest murder rate in the world for the last four years.
Lastly, the second piece from Michael Christopher Brown drew me in because of its composition. The photo was taken in Goma, Congo on December 14, 2012. It is captioned, “Abandoned planes are a common site at airports in Africa”. The photo functions on two different levels. First, it is a portrait of a young boy who sits a top of a rusted plane part. The warm colors draw him forward in the composition, so the eye is guided there at first. Secondly, below the boy is an abandoned airplane. Upon further inspection, children hang from the plane’s windows and another boy walks alongside the wing. The sky takes up another portion of the photo, and since its composition fits inside a square, every portion of the photo has something going on. Brown’s use of color allows the eye to travel almost in a circular motion around the photo, starting from the top boy, to the clouds, to the plane. With that said, Brown notes that “One is generally prohibited from photographing this airport but […] nobody was guarding this section of the airport. Children guided [him] through the planes”. The photo is beautiful in itself, but knowing the context is important simply due to the danger that was associated with the makings of this picture.
CONGO. Goma. December 14, 2012. Abandoned planes are a common site at airports in Africa. At Goma Airport, in the Democratic Republic of Congo, planes left due to wars and volcanic eruptions over the past two decades have become a playground for street children, some of whom sell the parts which are made into stoves and other items to be sold on the streets of Goma.
One is generally prohibited from photographing this airport but in mid-December, 2012, after the M23 rebel force which occupied Goma left and before the FARDC (military of the D.R.C.) returned to the city, a security vacuum meant that nobody was guarding this section of the airport. Children guided me through the planes, which were later discussed by my Congolese fixer:
“In January of 2002, the volcano (Nyiragongo, just outside Goma) exploded and the lava blocked the planes. I helped move this plane after I and many of my friends living near the airport lost our homes to lava, on the first day of the eruption. On the second day, we saw the lava moving towards the planes. I and others were just watching the lava flow getting closer to the planes and we decided to move one of them, this newer one. There were at least a hundred people there pushing the plane for about 300 meters. A friend mine, who was there and whose house was also destroyed, had a childhood dream to be a pilot. But his parents were too poor and all the schools were expensive, so he could not hold onto that dream. He forgot about it, but then on that day, when we needed to move the plane, he told me to help him inside so he might steer it! We all pushed the plane as my friend waved his arm out the window, in the cockpit. We then climbed in the plane and saw the lava flowing down the volcano and into town.”
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